If Only We (2 page)

“Maybe we can’t have what we used to have anymore. Some people can move past those moments in time and continue as if nothing ever happened. We didn’t. So,” he says with a shrug, “maybe we weren’t really friends to begin with.”

My heart breaks with how easily he speaks those words. I try to keep my composure as I struggle with what to say. “What? No. That’s simply not true. How can you say we weren’t friends?”

“Because friends talk to each other. Friends stay in touch. Friends don’t run away without a goodbye.” He counts each down on his fingers like a list. “Friends are there for each other.”

“Sometimes even good friends lose touch with each other.” Out of nowhere, I recall something important that might change his mind. “Remember what I talked about at graduation?”

He nods, looking down at his shoes. “Yes, I remember. You said you didn’t want to lose touch with me.”

“I didn’t. And I still don’t.” I want to touch my hand to his arm, reach out to him and draw him back to me.

“Well, you did.” He sighs, shaking his head. His eyes meet mine. “You can’t just erase and rewrite what happened. What’s done is done.”

I blink and swallow. The hand that wanted to touch his arm closes into a fist. “I know, but what about forgiveness?”

He looks over at the line of trees, thinking over what I said. Then he turns to me, and says, “Why should I when you couldn’t forgive me?” The look on his face says it all. Standing before me is a person I care for deeply. I would do anything for him. I would risk everything for him. It doesn’t make a difference. He turns away from me. “Just go.”

My hand absently clutches my heart. My legs can’t move. My tears are near the threshold. I say, “Chevy, please.”

“Just leave, Adrienne. We’re done here.”

Taking a small step back, I take one last look at him. Forlorn. Broken. Hopeless. It takes everything in me to turn and walk away. I don't look back. I can’t look back. This can’t be it; I shouldn’t be walking away from him. He needs me as much as I need him. My mind tosses me a glimpse of what we could have if we were together. Still, I can’t will myself to turn around. Deep down I want to, but I can’t look at him again.

Once I am over the hill and out of his sight, I break into a run and keep running until I reach my car. I get in and drive. I keep driving until I reach the abandoned barn just outside of town. When I park in the overgrown driveway and turn the car off, it happens.

I break down.

The tears drown as the sobs choke. Everything I kept bottled inside comes out in them. Everything from that moment at graduation through the horrible summer up until this moment. Memories tumble over the mess created today. Words left unsaid on top of the words said. They push at me, rip me up, tear me apart. A sharp pain crashes into my heart. It is unbearable. The culmination of the last couple of months collides into my body, taking away my breath. Regaining control will likely continue to elude me until further notice.

Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I can't believe what I've done. I allowed this to happen when I could have prevented it. Mistake after mistake added up to where I am in this moment.
It doesn’t make a difference.
That’s what I said to myself back there. It doesn’t make a difference what I did or didn’t do. Turning back the clock wouldn’t change a thing. Part of me doesn’t want to believe it would not make a difference. All it takes is one mistake. That one mistake was
my
mistake.

That one mistake cost me everything.

Chapter Two

Saturday evening, August 22
^nd

I remember the first time I saw Chevy.

It was the middle of sophomore year. His family had just moved to Hamilton. News through the grapevine was traveling fast about the new kid. It was hard to decipher with the different impressions everyone had in their encounters with him. Some claimed he was cool, others said he was weird. There was only one thing they all agreed on, and that was that he was gorgeous. The girls were swooning while the boys wanted to punch his lights out for causing the girls to react that way. I never put too much credence into what girls say about boys. Their definition of attractive usually wasn’t relevant since most of the good-looking boys were jerks. Due to this fact, I never wanted to date.

Everything changed the instant he entered my morning study hall. I glanced up from my notebook at the tardy person, irritated. That look was instantly wiped from my face. Standing in the doorway was Chevy Thompson, the new kid. He
was
gorgeous; I had to admit they got that part right. His hair was a sort of wave coupled with bed-head. He was more dressed up than most boys bother in an argyle dark blue vest over white shirt and khakis.

It was strange but I felt attracted to him. For the first time in my life, I was attracted to a boy and he was a complete stranger.

I learned something in that moment. When you fall in love, the rest of the goings on in the world appear in peripheral. Nothing shakes or disturbs the train of thought. Your smile isn’t thrown on to hide how you really feel. It
is
how you feel. Happy. Content. As if something has finally gone right in your life and all the suffering up until then had a reason. The reason was him. It was childish of me to fall for somebody when we were not even dating. Yet, who are we to choose the circumstances? Chevy was special. I knew it deep down then, even though I didn’t know all the hows or whys yet.

Mr. Shapiro told him to find an empty seat to study. In a classroom with thirty seats, four of them were empty, including the one next to me. I was still smiling when he made eye contact. He smiled back and sauntered over to that seat. He said, “Hi.” I said, “Hi.” From that day forward, we were friends.

I asked him later why he chose to hang out with me. He said, “You were the first friendly face I encountered.”

The beautiful weather from the afternoon turned into thunderstorms in the evening. Rain continues to pitter-patter on the roof as I lay awake in my bed. Squirming to get comfortable, I glance around my room. A strange feeling comes over me that something isn't right. I grew up in this house—everything in it is as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Somehow, it feels foreign, like I’m at a sleepover in a friend’s house I’ve never been to after dark.

Not that falling asleep was an option after what happened today. I continue replaying the events from earlier over in my mind. The words, his voice, my heart. The day comes together and falls apart in a whirling sequence. I can’t stop it. I can’t change it. It just is.

When did everything go wrong? Maybe if I trace back through my memories I can pinpoint the exact moment. I sift through the day one more time. It was clear from the start he did not intend to make peace with me. I doubt there was a chance to change his mind, no matter how I pleaded with him. Over the summer, I had no contact with him.
He
attempted to contact
me
though. Perhaps if I had picked up the phone or replied to an email he wouldn't have been so upset. We could have talked, but he probably would've asked me why I left. And I couldn’t tell him the reason why...

My throat tightens. The reason. That's when everything went wrong. I never would have been gone if not for my pride. That one moment, seemingly harmless in the pursuit of growing up, was the moment my world shifted.

It took me nearly two and a half years to get the courage to talk to him about my feelings for him. There was a possibility the day of graduation was my only chance. I would be seeing him over the summer, and even in the fall. We were both attending colleges nearby. Why did I believe it was my only chance? Earlier in the month, he broke up with his girlfriend, Heidi Kane. Usually after a breakup, it didn’t take him long to find someone else. This time, however, he remained girlfriendless. Not just girlfriendless though. There was a difference in the way he spoke to me. The way he was around me. He made a point to touch me more than normal. A light tap on the shoulder, a slight bump arm to arm walking down the hallway. I felt as though it was possible he was giving me a sign. I had to take the risk. I had to talk to him.

I remember every single excruciating word…

“
There’s something I want to talk to you about,” I had said after the ceremony.

His casual demeanor proved he had no idea what was coming. “Sure, what is it?”

My heart was thumping wildly. Taking a deep breath, I recited the speech I'd memorized: “Graduating high school is the last big step before becoming an adult. It's easy to lose track of everyone when we all start to go our separate ways.”

“
That's true.” He was nodding in agreement. He couldn’t see where I was going yet. I couldn’t continue with my full speech without wasting time.

Since I couldn’t afford that, I decided to cut ahead to the end. “I don’t want to lose touch with you.”

My heart sank when he replied, “Of course we can stay in touch! You have my number. We can hang out anytime.”

He still didn’t get it. I was nervous to say exactly what needed to be said. “I want to do more than just hang out.” Too ambiguous. He didn’t understand. I finally spelled it out. “I want to go out with you.”

He stared. I held my breath. My heart was anything but silent. It felt as though it was echoing through the room, bouncing off the walls and then fading into the air.

You know those statements, the ones where the person opens with a compliment then follows it up with a harsh truth? They are trying to soften the blow, like it is a kindness of them to do it that way. Say I’m going to trip and fall—while landing on the grass instead of a concrete sidewalk might feel better, the humiliation remains the same.

The moment dragged on for what felt like hours, finally ending with the words I never wanted to hear from him. “Adrienne, I like you, a lot. I really do. But I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to go out.”

Part of me knew. I flew on a high that caused me to forfeit the possibility of anything other than a happy ending. Impossible to imagine any other option except he and I being together. Instead, he crushed my soul with twenty-four words. My heart shattered in a thousand pieces.

A boom of thunder jolts me back to the present. I duck under the covers at the initial shock to my system. Then I reach down to my kitty plush, Coventry, lying on the floor next to my bed. My dad bought him for me when I was little. I spent years holding on to him to help me fall asleep. There was something about a stuffed animal that felt familiar. Knowing he was there was all the comfort a little girl needed to feel safe enough to fall asleep in a room without a night-light.

I need that comfort now.

Mom didn’t talk to me when I came home and I went straight to my room. Kaitlin, my stepsister, didn’t even say hello when she saw me this morning. Maurice, her father, courteously engaged in small talk with me. Yet that didn’t make the welcome back remotely warm. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

But never coming out of a hole will be impossible. I have school—college, actually—on Monday. I remember those days when I looked forward to this day with a gleam in my eye. There is something about it I dread now, although I can’t quite put my finger on it. The only thing I look forward to about college is my best friend Lyndsay.

She is not only my best friend but also my cousin. Since her mom and my mom are sisters, the nurse factor played a role in her life as well. Aunt Faith may have become a nurse but it wasn’t immediate. She got pregnant with Lyndsay right after high school, which ended up putting college on the back burner. Once she was able to, she became a nurse’s aide. My mom thought she could have done better than that. Aunt Faith was fine where she was and didn’t care what my mom thought. This created a little bit of a rift between them, but they have learned to get along for our sake. Mom was slightly vexed at Faith not promoting nursing to Lyndsay, but considered it a victory when she chose to pursue that career after all.

Lyndsay was the only person to comprehend why I ran away. She knew very well how I felt about Chevy. There were some times when I didn’t think she understood, but then she could see my connection to him had significance. Nobody else could see it in him. To the world, he was nonchalant; to me, he was compassionate. To the world, he was the person who would never settle down; to me, he was the opposite when given the chance.

I took that chance.

I needed to throw everything out in the open and let the chips fall where they may. He needed to know how I felt about him. I was never willing to admit it, except to myself. Even Lyndsay didn’t realize the full scope. He was always the boy all the girls were after. The one they all wanted to date. I was optimistic. I thought I had nothing to lose. I thought I knew him. I thought love would conquer.

Those high hopes led to an epic fall.

It's like exposing film to the light. All of the pictures are ruined instantly. Drained of all color, just like my face in that moment. I had just given him my heart. Bared my heart open. Wide open. Let him in. Allowed him to stomp down, shatter, crush, and tear to pieces the last of the love I had to spare in me.

He probably thought he was letting me down easy, leaving me with my dignity. He had good intentions is what they would say. The senseless girl believes he really does want to preserve the friendship. It wasn’t good intentions, or letting me down easy. That is what I told myself.

I knew better.

At least I thought I did. I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe it's possible he wasn't trying to protect me. The hurt in his eyes from earlier flashes back into my mind. The vulnerability. The despair. He claimed we were never friends to begin with but he was lying. He felt something—exactly what it was, I don't know. It's more likely he was protecting himself.

Now I'll never know.

All summer I attempted to push our memories out of my mind and fill the void with anything else. As much as I tried to fight it, to forget him, it was to no avail. The feelings lingered; they were in my heart, just as they are still.