I tried not to think about him. But it was hard. Everything seemed to carry with it a memory of our time together. We hadn't been a couple for long. The time from when I had met Clay Reed until the moment of our separation was a blip in the grand scheme of my life. Or at least I tried to tell myself.
But the truth was he had bulldozed his way into my life and there was no going back. Though I had worked hard to convince myself that ending things with him-(okay, so I didn't have much say in any of that, but it's amazing how you can warp things in your mind to make them palpable-) was the right thing to do, it didn't erase how incomplete I felt without him.
I thought I had done a semi-decent job of pretending I was okay until I opened my locker after school on the Monday, three weeks post break up, and a piece of paper fluttered to my feet. My heart seized up, my stomach dropped to the floor. I was hit by a wave of de ja-vu.
With trembling hands, I lifted the paper from the floor and unfolded it. Butterflies. Of course. What else would it be? And along the bottom, in Clay's frantic hand were the words, I have learned that sometimes “sorry” is not enough. Sometimes you actually have to change.
Gah. What was I supposed to do with this? My eyes darted around the empty hallway, looking for him. But he was nowhere to be seen. Should I call him? Should I crumple up the drawing and forget about it? I was stuck with uncertainty.
So instead, I folded it up carefully and put it in my book bag. When I got home, I couldn't resist taking out the picture and tacking it to my mirror. I stared at it for a long time. The ice around my heart crumbled a bit. But I didn't call him. I just couldn't.
The next day I found another picture in my locker. This one was of my face. I had no idea when he had drawn this one. It wasn't one I recognized. My hair was swept over one shoulder and I was looking off into the distance with a dreamy look on my face. The beauty of it took my breath away. There was nothing written on this one. I felt sad and torn.
Each day was a different drawing. Some with sayings on the bottom, some without. But each one conveyed Clay's longing in a heart stopping way. On Friday, I found a picture of what could only be the swimming hole, where we had gone on that first day. Clay had written The most perfect memories are the ones too painful to forget.
I didn't hear Rachel come up behind me. She grabbed the paper from my hand before I could hide it. I swallowed thickly as she looked at it, her brows furrowed. “Is this from him?” She asked before handing it back.
I nodded. “Yeah.” I answered, shoving it into my book bag. “What's that all about?” She asked me as we left the school. I shrugged, not bothering with a verbal response. “Mags, it looks like he's trying to win you back. You aren't going there are you?” She asked me angrily.
I stopped in the middle of the side walk and faced my best friend. “I don't know, Rachel! All I do know is I feel like I can't breathe! I'm miserable without him!” I said, trying to get her to see what he meant to me.
Rachel sighed. “I know. But you can't forget how miserable you were with him either.” She said. I knew she was right. But that didn't stop my heart from swelling up at the thought of him wanting me again.
Yeah, I was an idiot.
I was about to suggest to Rachel that we go see a movie, anything to get my mind off of my drama, when my cell phone chirped in my pocket. I pulled it out. Even though I had erased his number, I recognized it instantly.
The text read, Will you meet me at the swimming hole? I need to see you. Fuck. What do I do?
“Who was that?” Rachel asked suspiciously. I tucked my phone back into my pocket and gave her the fakest smile I could muster. “My mom. She just wanted to know what I'd like for dinner.” I lied. Rachel gave me a look that said 'you are a liar.' “Then why didn't you text her back?” Rachel asked me. I gave the most insincere laugh possible. “Oh, yeah. Duh!” I pulled out my phone and pretended to send a reply.
“Mmm. Chinese.” I said lamely. Rachel frowned but didn't push the issue. “So, I'm guessing you have plans with your parents this evening then?” Yeah, I wasn't fooling her in the least. I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah, looks that way. I'll call you later.” I said, heading toward my car. My heart was thudding in my chest.
“Hey, Mags.” Rachel called out as I got into my car. I turned around, plastering a smile to my face. “Yeah?” I yelled back. “Just be careful. You know, with your parents.” She said and then turned around to get in her own car.
I got into the driver seat and sat there for a moment taking deep, calming breaths. When that didn't work, I turned on the radio to try and settle my jangled nerves. I got out my phone and punched in a quick reply to Clay's question.
Sure. Be there in ten.
I waited for a moment to see if Clay would text anything back, but my phone stayed silent. Okay. Well, I guess he'd just meet me there. I pulled out of the parking lot and made my way to the swimming hole. What did Clay want? A million different scenarios went through my head. I wasn't sure I was emotionally strong enough to resist him if he told me he wanted me back.
I had missed him so much. I literally craved him like I craved caffeine in the morning. But I forced myself to remember the way he had treated me the last time I saw him. I also thought about how he had effectively shut me out when I had wanted nothing more than to help him.
Rachel had said she'd never want a love like that. But did I?
I pulled into the field by the swimming hole and parked beside Clay's BMW. He was already here. Of course he was. I got out of the car and took a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing.
I stomped through the tall grass and went into the trees. After a few more minutes, I got to the river. I saw Clay sitting on a rock by the water. He looked up when I arrived and I had to stifle a gasp at his appearance.