Chapter 32
I’ve always loved you
Jitters invaded me as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. “You can do this, man,” I told my reflection. “Today is the day. You’ve bid your time and are ready to see Melinda Shepard again. Am I right?” I nodded at my reflection.
It’d been six weeks since I last talked to her, and the truth was that I missed her like crazy.
My feelings for her hadn’t faded during the time we were apart.
In fact, her absence had only solidified what I already knew.
I was in love with her. The hole in my heart her absence had created had only deepened over the last few weeks.
All I longed for was to be her sidekick again.
To rejoice with her when she had a good day and celebrate her victories, no matter how small or inconsequential they might seem.
To be her support system when she had a bad day and needed some cheering up and to be her shoulders when it became too much and she had to cry it out.
I prayed a month and a half had been enough time for her anger and hurt to have waned and her common sense about us to have returned.
Every week since she’d been gone, her parents had updated me about her well-being.
I’d spent so much time at her house over the last few weeks that I’d had breakfast there twice.
I’d even helped her dad hang a giant wreath from the cedar gable bracket the week before Christmas.
They’d invited me to dinner once, too, but it had felt strange being there while their daughter was away, getting treated for an eating disorder.
They missed her—how could they not? I did too—and had driven to see her for Christmas, but she had refused to talk to them.
They’d warned me it was part of the process.
That it was normal for her to reject the people who cared about her most at first. They said that, in time, she would get better and the anger would fade.
“I love you,” I told the mirror, pretending it was her.
“I’ve always loved you. I’m done standing on the sidelines.
If you love me too and you think what we have is real and worth fighting for, then let’s figure this out together.
I wanna be by your side while you fight this.
I believe we can work out our shits better if we do it together as a team.
If you’re not ready for more, there’s no rush.
We can go back to being friends. I’m okay with that too.
Take all the time you need to heal and feel better, but please don’t push me away again.
I’m right here… I’ll be right here when you need me.
If a part of you believes we can be much more and you’re ready to take a leap of faith, I’m asking you: Melinda Shepard, will you go out with me? ”
My heart thundered in my chest, and my hands felt clammy. I exhaled. I could do this.
Before they left to pick her up in Traverse City three days ago at her aunt and uncle’s, her parents had reassured me that Melinda was doing much better.
She still had a long way to go in her recovery, but they were confident she would get through it.
She’d even been given the green light to start training with the swim team again, as long as she kept up with therapy and her weekly meetings with a nutritionist and continued having her sessions and meals monitored.
My heart beat wild in my chest. Seeing Melinda again after all this time apart felt like a big deal, and I didn’t wanna look desperate, yet a part of me yearned to see her with my own eyes to assess whether she really was recovering.
Sometimes, I wondered if she missed me too.
If she missed what we had…or what we were…
I’d never contacted her like she’d asked, and I knew for a fact she’d never reached out to Paige either.
When she’d come over for dinner two days ago, Paige had confided that she was just as anxious as I was to have her best friend back in her life and to see where they stood.
At night, when I was alone, missing her, I wrote her letters. I found it helped untangle my messy feelings and thoughts—and it made me feel closer to her in a way. There were a dozen of them stored in a shoebox under my bed. I still hadn’t decided if I would give them to her one day.
I gave my reflection a thumbs-up, fixed my tousled hair, and dressed in a pair of jeans and a vintage-looking white T-shirt I’d bought during one of our shopping sprees, one she’d approved of.
We had spent an hour at the arcade that afternoon.
I hoped she remembered the day as much as I did, and that the sight of the shirt would trigger her memories of what we used to be.
Back then, I thought she was being cute when she’d suggested we skip dinner so we could catch a movie and cuddle in the dark.
Even though Mom told me multiple times Melinda’s disorder wasn’t on me and I wasn’t responsible for her struggles, I still loathed myself for not realizing sooner that she was suffering in silence.
“Ready?” Craig asked as I passed him on the staircase on my way downstairs.
“As much as I’ll ever be.”
“Did she try to contact you after she made it home last night?”
“No. I swear it took all my inner power to stay away. I almost knocked on her door at nine because I was becoming restless. I didn’t want to look like a creep, so I didn’t spy next door like I craved to.
Maybe it would have been smarter to ring their doorbell and not wait until we were at school to talk to her… What do you think?”
“I think you’re worrying too much. Her parents told you she was doing better.
If I were her, I’d be anxious to come back to school after everything.
She wouldn’t be back if it was bad, no? Paige had been pacing her own bedroom all day yesterday, hoping for a call that never came. I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. It still feels like a big deal, though.”
“I know. I’ll root for you, Mase. I’ll root for you two. I know she’s the one struggling right now, but I swear she’s good for you too. You’ve dropped the act since things started becoming serious between you guys. I feel like I’m getting my brother back—the real him.”
“Don’t get all sappy on me, man.”
“I’m not. I’ve just missed the guy, that’s all.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” We fist-bumped, and I reached the landing with a jump.
“Mason,” Mom warned. “There are stairs, use them. No need to start an earthquake this early in the morning.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek while I grabbed the protein shake I’d made earlier from the table.
“You’re in a good mood this morning. I’m glad the gloomy attitude you wore during the entire break is gone. I’ve missed my happy son.” It seemed like my whole family had missed me while I’d been here the entire time. Go figure.
“It is, Mom. And don’t call me your happy son. It’s lame.” I winced. “And disturbing.”
“Your brother is the serious one, Mason. You’re usually the laid-back one. Chillax. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s one of your most endearing qualities.”
“Whatever. And don’t say chillax either. You’re too old to talk like that.”
She blinked. “To talk like what? Am I not cool enough for the likes of you?”
“You’re cool enough usually, but no weird teen slang, please.”
“Teen slang? I just made up the word. I’ll say Easychill instead.”
“Nope. No more made-up expressions.”
“Fine. Anyway, like I was saying, I’m glad happiness is back in your life. It broke my heart to see you blaming yourself for Melinda’s disorder. You can help her much more if you’re in a good mood than if you’re miserable. The girl will need all the positivity she can get, now that she’s back.”
“I’m choosing to let go of the guilt and the pain and to look at the future with a positive outlook. I think I can help her out. Let’s just hope she gives me a chance to be there for her. See? I’m trying to be Mr. Optimism.”
“I love this new mindset.” She turned, studying me with a frown. “How are you really doing? The truth. There are shadows under your eyes. I can tell this whole situation is weighing heavily on you, and I worry about you.”
I averted my eyes, but she cleared her throat, and I brought my focus back to her.
“I’m fine… I think… Melinda returned last night, and it took all I had not to go over there...
I stayed awake hoping she would reach out.
She never did. After that, I didn’t sleep well.
There are millions of scenarios playing in my head every day.
I have no clue if she still wants nothing to do with me.
It’s hard not knowing where we stand. I’ve missed her like crazy, and…
I-I hope she misses me too…and that she’s healing.
I hate the idea she did this to herself and thought I would like her more if she looked different. I want her to be healthy, you know?”
“Mase, we’ve already discussed it. It’s not on you.
And it’s not up to you either. Eating disorders are serious, and it’s more than just a warped-up perception of physical appearance.
It’s a mental health struggle, and it impacts self-confidence too.
Melinda put herself under a lot of stress last fall, and with her health history, it just became too much, and she cracked.
Don’t blame yourself for not seeing it. And don’t blame her either.
Instead, be there for her if she lets you in.
Be her moral support, her confidant… I know I would have wanted someone in my corner if it had been me in her shoes at that age.
Someone I could have been honest with and who I knew had my back, no matter what. ”
“Okay.”
“Have you talked to her at all while she was away?”