Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3)

? ? ?

Later that night, after a lot of arguing with myself, I called her. I half-expected it to go to voicemail—I wouldn’t want to talk to me if I were her—but she answered. That’s because she’s not a fucking six-foot-four chicken like you are.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

“I’m really sorry about today.”

Nothing.

“I feel bad about the way I left.”

Nothing.

Can you blame her? You’re not adding anything new to the conversation. You’re not offering her anything. Tell her what’s going on with you. And be honest, asshole.

“I…it’s been a rough night. Scotty had a seizure while I was at your place.”

She gasped. “Oh my God! Is he OK?”

“He’s fine.”

“A febrile seizure?”

“Yes.”

“Did he go to the ER?”

“Yes. My mom couldn’t reach me because my phone was in the car, and she didn’t have your number—which I feel horribly guilty about—but she called an ambulance. When I got to my car, I heard the message.”

“I’m so sorry, Levi. That can be scary.”

“It was. But he’s home sleeping now.”

“Good.”

Silence.

I opened my mouth.

Silence.

I closed my eyes.

Silence.

I clenched my fist.

“Well, I should go,” she said woodenly. “I’m very sorry to hear about the seizure, and thank you for calling.”

“Jillian, wait.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I felt so horrible when I left you tonight, and then this thing with Scotty happened and it made me question everything even more. I just…I need some time to think, OK? I already miss you, and I know I’ve probably fucked things up too much already, but would it be too much to ask for some time? I need to make sure my head is in the right place.”

“I don’t know, Levi. I want to say yes, but I don’t really get the sense that you’re ready to put your fears aside. It’s easier to put me aside. And I feel like you just want time to wallow in your guilt some more. Beat yourself up.”

God, she knew me so well. Too well.

She took my silence as confirmation she was right. “Goodbye, Levi.”

“Jillian, wait—I love you.”

I held my breath.

“I love you too,” she said, and I could tell she was crying. “It wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t. But time is not going to make a difference here. I’m done waiting on the outside.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

And she hung up.





I was miserable. Food tasted terrible. Sleep was even more elusive. Clock hands crawled. I caught Scotty’s virus and sneezed, coughed, and sniffled my way through, feeling like I deserved it. My mother brought me soup and helped out with Scotty while I lay on the couch watching horrible television and contemplating my wretched existence.

Even when I was physically healthy again I felt sick. Achey, listless, unmotivated to do anything for myself. I kept the daily routine going for Scotty’s sake but couldn’t bring myself to do anything extra. I didn’t go to the gym, didn’t call Jillian, didn’t even wear my new t-shirts. I wore the ugly, gray, stained ones and said ridiculous, self-pitying things to myself like, now your underwear matches your soul.

Even Scotty knew something was off, and this is a kid who struggles with affective cues. Two weeks after I’d last spoken to Jillian, Scotty and I were lying on the floor with pillows watching Up, one of his favorite movies, when he leaned over and rubbed my ear. Moved by the gesture, I took his hand in mine and kissed it.

“You have to smile,” he said. “Why didn’t you smile?”

My throat got tight. “I’m sad, Scotty.”

“Because Ellie died?”

“No, because I lost a friend. She…she’s my Ellie. She didn’t die, but I feel like I lost her.”

“But adventure is out there! The wilderness must be explored!”

That made me smile, if a little sadly, because I knew he wasn’t simply repeating the line for fun. Scotty recognized that, like Carl in the movie, I was missing someone, and parroting Russell’s lines was his way of communicating that he understood and wanted me to feel better. It might also have been his way of telling me to go look for her.

“Thanks, Scotty. I do want to explore the wilderness. But it can be scary.”

“What can be scary?”

I took a deep breath. “Love. To love someone like Carl and Ellie loved each other. You have to be brave.”

“We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly,” he quoted.

I smiled, a real one this time. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll try to remember that.”

That night I went to bed with those words still on my mind. It was almost like Scotty was telling me it wasn’t about bravery…it was about acceptance.

Fucking genius, my kid.

? ? ?