Page 96 of The Longshot

Her face softens under my touch as I’m compelled to find the strength to keep going.

“Which includes your boyfriend. You do know that, right?”

Chelsie swallows—hard. It's as if she knows exactly what I’m about to bring up. You know, the troubling question of why, when we were with my family, we weren’t a couple, but now that we’re with hers, we are?

I don’t get it.

I don’t understand it.

I’m trying to let her guide the way, but Christ, I’m being spun in a million and one directions here.

Are we together? Are we not? I can’t play this game anymore.

“Gary,” she stumbles as she says my name. “I… I’m sorry, I just?—”

“Do you like me, Chelsie?” I cut her off, taking the liberty to ask the blunt questions for a change.

She looks at me as if I’ve just grown two heads. “Like you?” she sputters. “That's a silly thing to ask, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” I protest, leaning back onto my hands. “I mean, it’s quite a simple question. Do you like me, yes or no?”

She narrows in on her stare, raising her voice ever so slightly. “Why would you even ask me that, Gary? Of course I like you. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.”

“Fine then,” I straighten my spine, ready to rephrase the question. “Answer me this instead. Do you want to be with me?”

“Be with you?”

“Yes, be with me,” I repeat. “And no, I don’t mean to be around me. I mean be with me, as in my girlfriend. Like, be with me because you can’t stand being without me. That’s what I want to know, Chelsie. That’s what I need you to tell me. Do you want to be with me?”

With a slow, controlled shake of her head, she stands up, dusting off the grass that clings to her dampened skirt. “You make it all sound so simple.”

I’m quick to my feet, stopping her before she can walk away.

“It’s because it is simple,” I debate. “I want you, Chelsie. I want everything about you. I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you. See how simple that was? It’s simple because it’s how I feel. It’s you, Chels. It’s only ever going to be you. How do you feel about me?”

She aches to break away from me again, stumbling backward. “I… I can’t do this. I really can’t have this conversation. I’m sorry.”

For a moment I let her go, allowing her to turn around and make her way slowly back up the hill, but my patience wears thin as I shout out, “I don’t want to keep doing this, Chelsie. I can't keep doing this.”

She comes to a stop and slowly, she turns around. “Keep doing this? What do you mean by that?”

“I can’t be in this in-between with you anymore,” I admit. “I want to work at your pace… I’ve been trying to work at your pace, but Christ, I feel like I’m giving all of myself to someone who won’t give me that in return. It’s killing me.”

“And don’t you think it’s killing me too?” Chelsie stomps her way back down the hill. “I don’t want to keep doing this to you either, Gary. It makes me feel terrible!”

“Then talk to me!” I tell her. “Tell me what’s holding you back!”

“What’s holding me back?”

“Yes! Tell me, please, because I’m dying here for just a slither inside your mind. One you won’t seem to let me into?—”

“I'm broken, Gary,” she cries out, cutting me off as she rubs her face in distress.

Everything around us goes silent.

“You want the truth, then there it is. I’m broken. I’m so broken that I’m afraid of committing to you. I’m afraid because the last time I trusted someone, I…” Her voice breaks down just like the tears as they come streaming down her face, and all at once, she struggles to breathe.

“Chelsie…” I’m left soothing her body as she trembles in my arms. I’m kissing her hair repeatedly, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she pulls back, forcing herself away.

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