5. Summer 19
Unable to shake the events at the barbecue last night, I opted to go for a run to clear my head. Despite being awake before the sun, I waited for it to rise before finally going out the door. It wouldn’t be the same going for a sunrise run on the lake without Rebecca.
As I step out the door, I press a few buttons to set my watch. When it gives me the approving beep, indicating the GPS has connected to the satellites to track my mileage, I take off.
It feels weird to run again. Somehow, despite this being such a big part of my life for so many years, nine months off made me forget what it feels like to run. The movement feels foreign and wrong. Is this the way my legs always moved? Am I heel planting or running on the balls of my feet? Are my hips supposed to feel this way?
My music drifts into the background, my conscious mind completely unaware of it as I recount the events of last night. I left the barbecue early after not getting a single chance to talk with Andrew alone again. As I was helping Mrs. Martin set out the display for the s’mores, I noticed a family-size bag of Starburst, and memories from many summers ago flooded back to me. Rebecca was initially disgusted at the thought of roasting Starbursts over the fire, but she came around to them and even asked for them the following year. The memory only made me think about how she wasn’t here, and Andrew was mad at me, and everything was all messed up. Once I was in the quiet safety of my bedroom, I burst into tears, unable to catch my breath. How did things change so much in less than a year?
I approach the end of our road, which diverges into two directions. The left is a shorter road, but the right takes me to the other side of the lake, and I’m not ready to go over there just yet. I make a left and find my thoughts going to Andrew. How did I already screw things up so badly? It seemed like we were in a really good place right before Rebecca’s accident. Then we stopped talking for months, and the first time we talked again, I completely insulted him with things I didn’t even mean. I’m such an idiot.
An idea pops into my head. I know how I’m going to fix things with us, besides apologizing profusely. I hit one and a half miles and turn around to head home. I’ll need to grab my car and head into town once I get back.
I feel a little more at ease on the way home. The movement no longer feels so foreign. My legs are a little embarrassingly fatigued, and my breathing is a bit heavier than it used to be on a three-mile run, despite doing other forms of exercise throughout my time away from running. Even so, it feels good to be back. I didn’t realize I missed running until now.
I step onto the porch, open the front door, and grab my keys off the ring to the right of the door. Without even stepping into the house all the way, I’m already headed back out.
The nearest bookstore is a thirty-minute drive from here. There are some closer shops near the lake, but they’re more for groceries, necessities, and knick-knacks for the tourists. When I pull into the parking lot, I realize this is one of the few places at the lake that isn’t tarnished by memories with Rebecca. It’s refreshing. She would never be caught dead in this place. Books were one thing I couldn’t really talk with her about. She’d listen if I was excited about a plot because she was a good friend, but she never really cared like Andrew did. Great, now I’m thinking about Rebecca.
I focus my mind instead on the task at hand. I need a book for Andrew. It has to be something he hasn’t read, which normally wouldn’t be too difficult to find, but considering we haven’t spoken in nine months, I don’t know what he’s been reading this year. Knowing his taste, I can at least make some guesses. I head straight toward the middle left of the bookstore, where the fantasy books are. I smile as I remember the first time Andrew brought me in here. Finally, a good memory! That might be the first memory I’ve had since being back that hasn’t made me want to burst into tears.
I begin browsing through the bookshelves, looking for something Andrew would like. It needs to be something adventurous and creative. A newer book might be my best bet because it’ll be less likely he’s already read it. I shuffle some books around, picking one up, reading the back, and placing it back on the shelf.
I move on to the next shelf and immediately know this is the one. It’s a new release written by the same author of the book Andrew got me when we were eleven. The author has moved away from preteen novels over the years, and his new material is really good. This one is loosely based on Greek mythology, which I know Andrew is a total nerd for. Best of all, the main character’s best friend is named M. It’s not quite Em, but it’s close enough. It”s perfect.
I bring it to the register, check out, and drive back. When I pull into my driveway, I debate going inside to shower first. I probably smell awful after sitting in my sweat for the past hour and a half, but I want Andrew to know I ran. I want him to see it for himself.
I head inside the house and dig around in the storage closet for something to wrap the book. Once it is satisfactorily wrapped in delicate blue wrapping paper, I head over to the Martin’s house. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, but I’m almost certain Andrew is up.
I walk to the far side of the house and plop myself into his bedroom window well. I peer into the window, checking to see if he’s in his room. Sure enough, he’s lying on his bed with a book in hand. I knock on the window, and he looks up with very little surprise when he sees me.
He comes to the window, pops out his screen, and helps me crawl through. He smells clean. His wet, combed hair and lack of a shirt indicate he just showered. He must’ve just gotten back from weight training with Brendan. I’m lucky I caught him. The two of them can spend half a day at the gym together.
“I came to apologize and give you this,” I say, handing him the wrapped book.
He takes it and inspects the wrapping paper. “Are you trying to buy me?”
I see a small twinge of a smile forming on his lips, giving me hope.
“Just open it.”
I sit down on his bed as he does the same, beginning to tear into the wrapping paper. “Andrew, I—” He holds up a finger as he continues unwrapping.
When he finally gets the wrapping paper off, a grin spreads wide across his face. This has to be a good sign. “Thanks, Em. It’s perfect! This one has been on my to-read list since I heard he was writing it like six months ago. You’ve always done a good job at picking out books.”
Silence follows. I can tell he’s still guarded. “I’m glad you like it.” I shift nervously. “Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday. It was hard coming back here after all this time. I thought I was handling things better than I am, and it was sucky to have you point that out to me. I know you loved Rebecca more than anyone, and I shouldn’t have questioned that no matter how much I’m hurting. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand on my thigh, and with that little gesture, I can tell I’m forgiven. “I don’t know what your reasoning is for not talking to me during the school year, and I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt me, but I’m willing to at least hear you out. I know you better than to believe you had bad intentions while doing so.”
He leans his head on my shoulder for a moment, and I freeze. His touch charges me instantly. I’m almost certain the next thing I touch will receive an epic shock. I want to pause our conversation for another time and just stay like this. The world feels right again knowing I have his forgiveness.
“I may not have been the most eloquent with my words yesterday either,” he admits, disrupting my tender thoughts. “I’m not saying I’ve been perfect, far from it. I’ve had moments when I’ve been so sad over losing her that I couldn’t even get out of bed, but I have to try to move on because I can only imagine how disappointed she would be to see me like that. I have to be better.”
“You were right. You are right. I hate that,” I cross my arms and pout my lower lip, trying to hide the chuckle that’s slipping out. “I need help being pushed. I always have.” I pause for a moment, taking in his reaction. His deep blue eyes stay focused on me as he waits for me to continue, knowing I have more to say. “I went for a run today.” I hold out my arms to show him all my sweaty glory.
“You’ve had a busy morning. How was it?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to run to the other side of the lake because of all of the memories, but it felt good to get back out again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
He wraps one arm around me. “Even so, I’m proud of you. It’s a start. If you need me to, I’ll run with you this summer. It’d be good for me to do some endurance training this summer for track.”
“You’d do that?” I’m stunned.
“Em, you know I’d do anything for you.” He rolls his eyes, oblivious to the fact that he’s melting my heart right now with his words, sweeter than chocolate.
“So about not talking to me last year…?”
He shifts in unease before responding. “I thought I was doing the right thing. A lot of my best, and some of my worst, memories with Rebecca involve you too, and all I wanted to do was cut ties with all the memories that were bringing me pain. I thought the only way I could heal was alone.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “I learned pretty quickly that I needed people, but I still didn’t think those people should include you. I guess I just thought you’d make it too hard. I was already hurting so badly… I’m sorry. It kills me to say it, so I can only imagine what it must feel like for you to hear it.”
He winces at me as he takes in my reaction. A whole world of emotions is filling me, sadness for Andrew’s pain, hurt that he felt he needed to cut me out, and hope that we can move forward.
“I see I was wrong now. Seeing you yesterday made me feel like I was home again, until you were an absolute brat to me.” He winks and leans his shoulder into mine teasingly. His touch once again makes me shiver. “I saw a counselor, and she’s helped me start to lean on my family and friends again. I’m doing okay now. I just take it day by day, and I’m trying as hard as I can to live my life for both of us now. There are so many little things she didn’t get a chance to do.”
“I want to do that too. I always held us back. I don’t want to live in fear anymore. I want to live boldly like Rebecca.”
He pulls me in tight with one arm and presses his lips to my forehead. I know this is just a friendly gesture to show he cares, but I close my eyes and take a moment to feel his love.
He pulls my chin up so my eyes meet his. “I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that. You never held us back.” His eyes bore into mine, making sure I get the message. I nod ever so slightly. Satisfied, he continues, “We can help each other.”