Bear
Becca sounds a little like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons I used to watch with Carleton as a kid.
I know she’s saying shit I need to hear. I know I should be latching on to every word, nodding, letting her know I hear her and I understand what she’s saying.
But I can’t.
Everything feels distant, foggy, like I’m on a cloud of having an out-of-body experience as I sit next to her on the bench by the reflection pond.
It’s hot and muggy and so far from what December was as a kid growing up in Pennsylvania.
It doesn’t feel like Christmas is around the corner. It doesn’t feel like winter.
And it definitely doesn’t feel like Becca is breaking up with me.
But she is.
And I can’t even find the words to try to convince her not to.
“Are you even listening to me at all right now?” she asks, waving her hand in front of my face before she lets it fall to her thigh with a slap. She sighs, sitting back on the bench, shaking her head with her eyes on the pond. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“I’m listening.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I turn to her then, pinning her with my gaze. “What more do I really need to hear past the part of this conversation where you said you don’t want to be with me anymore?”
Becca swallows, eyes softening, her eyebrows tugging together to meet in the middle of her forehead. “You do realize I don’t want to break up with you, right?”
“Not what it seems like right now.”
“What choice have you given me?” She throws up her hands, exhausted.
“Bear, that Friendsgiving shit… that was the most embarrassing moment of my life. My roommate and my best fucking friend hang out with you for the first time — this guy I’ve been telling them I’m so head over heels for — and you show your ass being possessive over some other girl.
” She holds her hand out like she’s serving me my own ass on a silver platter. “Do you see how this is a problem?”
“I wasn’t being possessive.”
To that, she only scoffs and crosses her arms, tonguing her cheek when she tears her eyes from me and focuses on the pond again. “Unbelievable.”
Shame and guilt sizzle in my chest, like I’ve just thrown my heart on a grill. I know it’s a lie just as much as she does. But I refuse to admit it, because if I admit it to her, I’d have to admit it to myself.
That I care about Erin.
That I care about her as more than just a friend.
That I can’t stand to see her with someone else, even if I’m with someone else.
That until I work through my feelings with her, I can’t be with anyone.
I keep my mouth shut, zipping my lips tight in an effort to keep all those thoughts hidden forever. I’d rather die with them buried inside me than live with them out in the open.
“Look… maybe you should go home for the holidays. Work things out with your family. With yourself,” she adds, turning and waiting for me to look at her before she continues.
“And then, maybe, we can talk about being together when you get back. But I don’t want to be with you if your heart belongs to someone else, Bear.
That’s not fair to me or to her. So… if you want her, maybe you should tell her that. ”
My stomach sinks so violently that I nearly retch, because I care for Becca so much that it makes me physically ill to think she can see right through me, that I can hurt her so badly without even meaning to.
“I want you, Becca,” I say, voice cracking.
“I know. But you love her,” she says matter of factly, with a shrug in her shoulder. “And as long as that is true, you can’t have me.”
I suck in a stiff breath, shaking my head as emotion strangles me from the inside. My chest is tight, my jaw thick with tension, my knee bouncing uncontrollably.
I have to stop her.
But I can’t.
She’s right.
But I can’t admit it.
Slowly, Becca leans over, wrapping her arms around my neck. She presses her lips to my cheek, and I close my eyes at the contact, savoring what I know will be our last touch.
“You’re a good man, Bear,” she whispers. “But you can’t keep running and hiding from your truths.”
When she pulls back, it’s with a sniff and a swipe of her hand over her cheek to wipe away her tears. I wish it was my hand wiping them away, but it’s not me who gets to comfort her anymore.
I’m not sure I ever really did.
She doesn’t say another word. The goodbye doesn’t ever come. She just stands and bolts, her feet carrying her quickly away from me as I watch her go.
I let out a gasp, one that I can’t replace with my next inhale. I’m trying to get oxygen into my lungs and failing every time. Scrubbing my hands back through my hair, I let out a loud, lung-collapsing scream that echoes across campus.
And once again, I am alone.
***
I somehow make it back to my room at the Omega Chi house.
I somehow manage to peel my damp clothes off, the ones I sweated through, and drag myself into the shower.
And when I finally collapse into my bed, I somehow pull out my phone.
And I call Erin.
My heart is in my throat as the line rings, over and over, again and again, with no answer. I hang up when her voicemail clicks on, immediately redialing her number.
“Please,” I beg, rolling my lips between my teeth. “Please pick up, Erin.”
When her voicemail clicks on again, I sigh, sitting up and moving to the edge of my bed. My legs dangle over, and I stare at my bare feet, waiting for the tone.
“Erin,” I say when it clicks, and just saying her fucking name has that same tight emotion gripping my throat. I let out a shaky breath, and with it, anything else I could have said.
Please, I need you.
Come over.
Help.
Instead, I hang up, and dial Skyler.
It takes less than five minutes for her to show up at my door, and she doesn’t knock. She just pushes through it, kicks off her sandals and climbs into bed with me.
Usually, it’s me curling around her, or holding her to my chest, but this time when she climbs over me, she drags my back to her chest and wraps her tiny arms around me as best she can.
Never in my life have I ever been the little spoon, and I almost laugh out loud at the stupidity of it.
But that laugh comes out as a sob.
And with it, I break.
Skyler doesn’t try to shush me as I fall apart.
She doesn’t try to control my shaking body in her arms or my piercing wails as they rip through the quiet night around us.
And if any of my brothers hear me — which I’m almost certain they do — they’re wise enough to stay away, to not ask, to pretend like they didn’t hear a thing.
For the first time since I was a kid, I cry myself to sleep.
Skyler is still there holding me in the morning.