Savannah
I stood at the base of the steps to Nathan’s apartment for a long while, debating whether or not I would actually press the buzzer. Rain falling in cold, fat drops rolled down my forehead and balanced on the ends of my eyelashes while I stared at his name next to his doorbell. The last three weeks had been awkward. No, they were awful. After three days of dealing with him ignoring my calls, I stopped calling. I’m sure he was further irritated by my avoiding him in class. Not my finest moment of maturity, sure. But, I was confused. I was reliving our whole friendship in the framework of an entirely different paradigm than the one I’d been operating.
Buzz.
I pressed the buzzer, waiting nervously. What if he wouldn’t let me in?
“Who is it?” Nathan’s tired voice nearly knocked me off balance.
“Nate, it’s me ...” No one ever called him Nate. Not since we were about thirteen and he deemed it to be childish. But, that’s how I was feeling. Like the thirteen-year-old girl that had a boy best friend who meant the absolute world to her.
“What do you want, Savannah?” His tone would have seemed cold if I didn’t hear his voice shaking a little.
“We need to talk.”
There was a dreadful silence before a sigh.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed to be having this conversation through a speaker. “Please, Nathan. I … look, it’s cold and raining out here, are you gonna let me in or not?”
“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled before I heard another buzz, and the door click, allowing me access.
Shaking raindrops from my coat as I walked to his second floor apartment, I saw his door pop open. Walking through, I found Nathan leaning back against his kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. I tossed my coat on the table by the door and ran my fingers through my hair a few times, trying to dry it out a bit.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Savannah, you’re all wet,” Nathan huffed, walking toward his bathroom. He returned with a towel that he held out in front of him.
I felt his eyes on me as I ran the towel over my hair. “Thank you.” I sighed as I set the towel on top of my jacket and made my way to the couch.
“So,” he shrugged, “what do you want to talk about?”
Tilting my head to the side, I spoke gently. “Come on, Nathan, sit.”
He stared at the space next to me for several seconds, a battle playing across his eyes, before he sighed and sank next to me.
“Look,” I started before he could, “we’ve been friends for ten years. You’ve always made me feel safe, protected …” I trailed off, watching his face.
He swallowed hard but didn’t quite look at me.
“Anyway,” I continued, “I need you to understand that I’m not upset that you’re not gay. That’s ridiculous. I just … it’s just that I shared some things with you that, honestly, I wouldn’t have told you if I thought—”
“If you thought I was straight?” His tone was clipped. Irritated.
“It’s not just that, Nathan.” I wrapped my hand around his, but he didn’t respond. It sat flat in my palm. “If I thought that you liked me … I wouldn’t have ever gone on about the boys, the kisses, the breakups.”
“But I wanted you to, Savannah.” Nathan grumbled a little as he ran his hand over his face.
“Okay, but if you liked me …”
“I still wanted to be your friend, okay? I figured out pretty quickly that you didn’t feel the same way about me. I just didn’t realize it was because you thought I was gay. Did you not feel that way about me because you thought I was gay, or …”
Christ, he really wanted an answer. I had to go back and search some pretty early memories of Nathan to figure out when it was I thought he was gay. And how I felt before that.
“Well, I obviously had a crush on you the second I saw you. I was ten, for God’s sake.” I laughed a little, but he didn’t. “I don’t know, Nathan, that’s asking me to forget the last ten years and pretend I’m seeing you again for the first time. I can’t do that.” Suddenly, I felt tears stinging my eyes. I could see on his face that this was breaking his heart, and that’s not what I came here to do. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
That’s all I could say. There was too damn much to sort through if we really wanted to. But, I didn’t. He was my friend and I wanted to keep that relationship, if I could.
“Don’t be sorry, Savannah,” Nathan sighed as he pulled me into a hug. “I had years of chances to come clean with you about my feelings. I didn’t. That’s not your fault.”
“Wow, we’re a mess.” I sniffed and chuckled.
He laughed, too, this time.
“I still love you, though, okay? I don’t ever want to see you get hurt. Especially by Fitzgerald.”
I tensed instantly and pulled away from Nathan’s body. “What are you talking about?”
“Savannah …” He rolled his eyes and looked exasperated.
“Nathan,” I arched my eyebrow, “I told you—I’m not in love with him.”
“Yeah? And how long are you going to tell yourself that?
I stood, holding out my arms. “What the hell is your problem all of a sudden? He’s our professor. I see him three times a week for an hour. And, he’s a pompous ass.”
Nathan shook his head at me then spoke in a low, urgent tone. “Everyone’s been talking about it, Savannah. Everyone has seen how you two interact.” His eyes narrowed at me as he spoke.
I dropped my jaw. “Are you standing here, right now, insinuating that I’m having an affair with my professor?”
“Well, if you’re not, I suggest you figure out what it is, exactly, that you want from him. Before not dealing with your feelings at all leads one of you to make a huge mistake.”
Silence.
My cheeks betrayed me as they heated under Nathan’s words. Slowly looking up at his face, I saw him wince a little. Maybe at what he said. Maybe at my reaction.
Either way, he took a slow step toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder.