28. The Truth
Somehow I lived through the rumors of what didn’t happen between Drew and me. I was mortified when one of the girls from the basketball team asked, in front of everyone in the locker room, if Drew and I had sex at Kelli’s. Jill tried to defend me, and it worked for the most part with my teammates, but it didn’t have the same result with the rest of the school. No one else asked me to my face, but I heard the whispers when I walked down the halls. Sara’s urging me to “just ignore them” only confirmed what they were whispering about.
I wasn’t invisible anymore, and there was no point in trying to fade away again. More people recognized my promotion in the social hierarchy and were bold enough to try to talk to me. At first it was just small talk, to which I awkwardly responded with short answers. Then I was invited to parties and out with a group of people I would never have known if they hadn’t approached me. I always deferred to Sara to plan our weekends.
I remained trepidatious with my ghostly comings and goings through the house. I didn’t know how long my absence was going to be accepted without an explanation of where I was coming from and going to. My stomach still dropped at the sound of her voice, anticipating the moment she’d notice me again. But as the month progressed, I was still just an occupant in their home, without any expectations besides the Saturday morning chores.
I missed seeing Leyla and Jack. I heard their voices in the distance, but rarely saw them. I convinced myself that this was better for them - that way there wouldn’t be a chance of my world disrupting theirs again. It made the hurt more bearable, especially when I’d hear Leyla’s excited stories from behind the closed door of my room.
During the first week of February, Anna and Carl announced that they were taking Sara and I to California during our school break to visit colleges. My coach arranged meetings with a few schools that were interested in me. Carl spoke with George to approve the trip, which I’m sure raked under Carol’s skin. I hoped retribution wasn’t waiting for me when we returned.
Sara was beyond excited with thoughts of us going to college together in California. I was thrilled as well, doing everything to ignore the fact that we were going to be in the same state – actually staying in the same city - as Evan.
His nightly hauntings became less frequent. I would think I finally escaped him, just to cry out in the night, propelled back to the dark bedroom sobbing. Sara stopped asking about the nightmares. She’d silently watch me recover from the bed across from me.
It was hard to heal when I saw my brokenness in streaks of red and orange displayed on the wall of the Art room. Ms. Mier praised that it was my best piece yet and said she was proud of my honesty. I absorbed her words without reaction. I’d hoped that releasing it on the canvas would help me move on, but I knew I was never going to put him behind me.
I allowed my heart to remain silent. It continued to ignore Drew’s touch. But I embraced the warmth he ignited within the rest of me and the enrapturing swirls of excitement that clouded my head whenever we had a moment alone together.
It was easy to get lost in the breathing and kissing. But over time, the urgency increased. His hands wandered more, seeking the touch of my skin, gradually inching up or down. I felt like I was constantly redirecting his creeping hands and trailing lips. He wouldn’t say anything, but I knew he was hoping I’d just give in and stop resisting. Instead of talking about it, I started to avoid being alone with him.
My evasiveness roused a wave of guilt. I tried convincing myself that it was because I wasn’t ready, and it had nothing to do with Drew. We didn’t have another conversation about our relationship after Kelli’s party. We never discussed our feelings or expectations.
I took what we had at face value. We liked to be around each other. We easily found something to talk about, and he still made me laugh without much effort. The public affection and the moments of breathlessness confirmed our attraction to each other. So what was there to talk about?
“You still like me, right?” Drew asked while we sat on the couch in Sara’s entertainment room. Sara and Jill had gone to the store, and we were waiting for a couple of Drew’s friends to arrive for a night of horror movies. We had decided to stay in since our flight left for California first thing in the morning.
“Of course I do,” I answered in alarm, my stomach dropping at the unprovoked question. I gently pushed his foot with mine as I sat facing him on the couch with my back against the arm. “Where did that come from?”
Drew shrugged, but remained serious. I tried to connect with him, to make him smile, but he avoided looking at me. I was so confused.
“So, why don’t you want to be alone with me anymore?” he asked after a moment of silence.
I sat up straighter, suddenly fearing where this was going.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You seem to always find an excuse. If you like me, then why don’t you want to be with me?”
I didn’t respond, knowing what he was really asking
Drew leaned forward and grabbed my calves, pulling me across the couch, draping my legs over his. He put his arms around my waist and inched me closer until our faces were less than a foot apart. The entire move happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to react.
“I want more from you,” he stated softly, gently brushing his lips against mine. “I want you to want me too. I want you to need to be with me as much as I need to be with you.”
He pressed his lips to mine, lingering. I could feel his breath quicken. I listened in shock to what he was really asking me, too panicked by his words to feel his lips.
“I know you want me,” he whispered, our lips inches apart.
When I still didn’t kiss him, he pulled his head back to look me in the eye. Concern washed over his face.
“You don’t?” he asked cautiously, slowly sitting back against the arm of the couch.
I couldn’t answer. My hesitation caused him to narrow his eyes, examining my stunned face. He looked away, not liking what he saw.
“Hey!” Jill exclaimed when she and Sara reached the landing.
I quickly pushed myself off of his lap and scooted to the other side of the couch. Drew forced a smile to greet Sara and Jill. Jill began loading the small upstairs fridge with beers. I stood from the couch and offered to help get things together in the kitchen. Sara tossed Drew the remote and told him he was in charge of picking the first movie.
“What happened?” she asked, sensing my mood change.
“He pretty much just asked me to have sex with him,” I responded quietly as I dumped a bag of chips in a bowl.
“No way!” Sara exclaimed in shock. “What did you say?”
“I couldn’t answer him,” I confessed guiltily.
“You didn’t say anything?”
“I was trying to figure out what the answer was when you two arrived.”
“So now he thinks you don’t like him at all, right?”
“I told him I liked him,” I explained. “But he said he wanted more from me.”
“Are you ready for this? With him?”
“I like him. But…” I shrugged.
Sara smirked, and said, “I know.”
“What should I do?”
“Just treat him like you normally would, and try to avoid being alone with him for now. But you have to talk to him about it eventually. He’s going to see right through you anyway when you keep rejecting him, and it won’t matter.”
I was confused. “What do you mean?”
She smiled. “If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then I can’t tell you.”
“Sara,” I pleaded, “you’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?”
“Here, bring these bowls of chips upstairs, and kiss him or something so it’s not awkward all night.”
Jill entered the kitchen, and I hesitated before grabbing the bowls from Sara’s hands, still trying to decipher her message. I climbed the stairs slowly, figuring out how to approach Drew. I decided aggressive and direct was best.
I set the bowls of chips on the table and intercepted Drew’s view of the television screen while he flipped through movie titles. Reluctantly he looked up at me. I moved closer and straddled his legs, hovering above him. He raised his eyebrows in reaction to my forwardness.
“I want to be with you,” I whispered, looking down at him. I placed my hands on the back of his neck, running my fingers into his hair. “But I’m just not ready.”
He looked at me in confusion, obviously expecting a different answer. He was about to slide out from under me when I quickly added, “Right now - but, soon.” I didn’t know why I lied to him. It was easier than admitting the truth.
I leaned down and firmly pressed my lips against his. Before I could pull back, he had his hands on my back and he quickly flipped me over onto my back so that his body was on top of mine and my legs were wrapped around him. He continued to search for my lips as my breathing quickened. He tried to roll me on my side, but the momentum forced us to roll off the couch and onto the floor.
I started laughing, deflating the intensity, as he groaned beneath me. He looked up at me and smiled. I pushed myself off of him and slid back on the couch as the voices of the guys with Sara and Jill neared the top floor.
During the movies, Drew and I laid on oversized pillows on the floor, in direct sight of everyone, so he couldn’t get away with too much. Everyone else was scattered on the couch and loveseat, making comments about the pathetic girls wandering alone in the dark and warning the guys to look behind them right before they were slaughtered. I had my head propped against Drew’s taut stomach while he played with my hair. I fell asleep during the middle of the second movie.
“Evan?” the voice asked, crashing from my nightmare back to reality.
I shot up and looked around the dark room. I woke on the floor, under a blanket and tried to place where I was. I was in Sara’s entertainment room I realized - then I remembered watching the movies.
I felt him sit up next to me. I knew in that moment what had happened, and I was afraid to turn around. I wiped the tears from my eyes and slowly faced him. He looked exactly how I feared – hurt and confused. But he also looked pissed, and I wasn’t expecting that. I stared at him, trying to calm my quickened pulse, but it remained heightened with the silent confrontation.
“Nightmare?” he finally asked.
I nodded, preparing for what was next.
“About Evan?” he bit. I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
“I get it now,” he whispered in agitation. I glanced at him as he shook his head slowly.
“Drew,” I pleaded. He stood to put his shoes on and grabbed his jacket. I couldn’t find the words to make him stay. The truth was… I didn’t want him to stay.
I remained on the floor, watching him disappear down the stairs. That’s when I noticed Sara on the couch wrapped in the arms of an unconscious guy. Sara peered over the arm of the couch with sympathetic eyes, having heard everything. I looked away.
~~~~~
“You did much better than I thought you would while we were in San Francisco,” Sara complimented on our flight back from California. “I was waiting for you to lose it.”
I was relieved I’d been so convincing. In actuality, I searched the face of every guy we passed, hoping to see him.
“I almost called him,” I confessed, unable to look at her.
“I’m not surprised, but he wasn’t there.” My mouth dropped open as I turned to stare at her. “He’s snowboarding in Tahoe with some friends for the week.”
“How do you know?”
“I asked Jared,” she confessed. “I called him when I found out we were staying in San Francisco for a few days, thinking maybe we could bump into Evan so you could get some closure. Don’t worry; Jared promised not to tell him.”
I didn’t know what to say. When I thought about it, I wasn’t exactly surprised that Sara did this.
I tried so hard not to think about him, but it was impossible not to when we were right there. It ate at me that he was so close and I could possibly see him at any moment. I picked up my phone probably a million times and hit 5. Every time I saw the preprogrammed Evan displayed on the screen, I’d hit Cancel. Now those agonizing moments of trying to decide if I could push the Send button didn’t matter at all. He wasn’t even in San Francisco.
“Speaking of closure,” Sara continued, “what are you going to say to Drew?”
“I have to say something, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you can’t avoid him forever. The school isn’t that big.” After a pause, she asked nervously, “You are over, aren’t you?”
I let out a short laugh. “Don’t worry, Sara, I won’t continue torturing you. You don’t have to pretend to like him anymore. It’s over.”
“I did like him,” she said, then thought better of it. “You’re right, I didn’t like him. Mostly because I didn’t –“
“Like me with him,” I finished. “I know.”
“He wasn’t right for you.”
“I know,” I answered honestly. “Drew is that guy. I’m pretty sure he would’ve broken up with me when he realized he wasn’t going to get anything. I think it’s pretty obvious we’re over.”
“You still need to tell him,” Sara urged. I didn’t know what I was going to say. The unavoidable talk was weighing on me more than I wanted to admit.
But there ended up being no need to worry after all. The whole school knew we were over before we’d even returned from California. I found out when I heard, “I can’t believe Drew dumped you for Katie,” as soon as I walked into school on Monday. Jill stared at me waiting for my reaction. She wasn’t expecting me to laugh.
It took a few weeks, but the rumors simmered, and I was able to return to my evolving world without any more distractions. Although the rhythm had changed since the beginning of the year, I was content with its predictability, and part of that was being alone – which I readily accepted. I also accepted the silence in the house when I retreated to my room each night.
I kept waiting for Carol to react in some way to my trip to California. But all I heard when I returned from Sara’s was about the trip George had surprised her with to Bermuda. I had a feeling George hadn’t told her about California. I had no problem putting up with her gloating; it didn’t leave bruises.
I concentrated on my classes, continuing to push myself to meet my overachieving expectations. I performed on the basketball court, helping our team finish the regular season with only one other loss. I laughed with Sara more than I used to, now that we were “weekend sisters,” as she liked to refer to us.
Even the pain that murmured in my chest and the nightmares that continued to wake me became a predictable part of my existence. I accepted them, and I moved on – I was still surviving.
Reason to Breathe
Rebecca Donovan's books
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