Page 8 of Echoes of Us

“I think you’ve helped enough,” I said.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, so now this is my fault?” he asked, shaking his head.

I stared down at my lap. No, it wasn’t. Honestly, Ezra was the last person who deserved my wrath.

“It’s not,” I started to say.

He pushed off the bed. “You know, Att, sometimes you make it really fucking hard to be your friend. Did you know that?” he asked angrily.

I looked up at him, feeling shame grip me at the sight of his pissed-off face.

“I’m starving, so I’m going to get something to eat. Do you feel like pizza?” he asked in the same tone, still angry.

A smile tugged at my lips and then a chuckle bubbled through.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Finally.”

“I’m sorry. Pizza sounds great,” I told him.

He smiled. “I’ll be right back. It’s going to be okay, big guy. You’ll get over it. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will.”

I raised a shoulder in response, the smile slipping from my face. I didn’t think so.

The door closed behind him, leaving me alone with the patter of rain on the window. I rubbed my eyes, feeling the fatigue settle in. Six months had passed since he left, but it felt like a lifetime. Each day blended into the next, a monotonous blur of classes, training, and sleepless nights. I thought I’d be over it by now, but the ache in my chest said otherwise.

I stood up and moved to the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass. The campus looked almost deserted in the rain. Students with umbrellas hurried to their classes, heads down against the wind. I could see the running trail from here, now empty and slick with water.

I turned away from the window, feeling a lump rise in my throat. Ezra was right, though. I couldn’t keep living like this, stuck in the past and shutting everyone out. But moving on seemed impossible. He really had been everything.

Sighing, I sat back down on the bed, running a handthrough my damp hair. I laid down, staring at the ceiling, and let the sound of the rain lull me into a state of numbness. It was better than feeling the pain, even if just for a moment. He took off without a word and never answered his phone. That’s how he broke it off. It took me weeks to admit it was over, that he wouldn’t return or call or anything. He just left.

That day with Ezra gave me the push I needed to accept it and start moving on. It took me twice as many months to even look at anybody else, and almost two years to feel like I was over him.

After winter break in my third year, I was feeling much better. The crushing weight of the past years had started to lift, and I found myself breathing easier, smiling more. I hardly ever thought about him. If I heard his name, I could just walk away without listening. I had thrown myself into my studies and running, finding solace in the steady rhythms they provided.

There was a bittersweet taste in the air as I walked with Colin and Ezra to the clubhouse. It was their last semester on the team. Colin had debated returning, but Ezra had convinced him, as usual.

“There’s a start-of-the-term party on Saturday,” Colin said.

I groaned. “Fucking parties,” I muttered, and they both tittered.

“God, why do you have to be so boring?” Ezra asked.

“They don’t get any better. It’s the same people, drunk and sweating in a hot, dark room. Why would you want to go to that?” I replied.

“Because it’s our last first party,” he said.

“I don’t want to go. I’m not going. I hate these things. You know I hate these things,” I told him.

“Yeah, we’ve heard,” Colin said, looking down at his phone with a frown.

“We could go out,” Ezra suggested.

“I’m still underage,” I reminded him.

“God, you’re boring,” he said, but his smirk betrayed his words. “So I guess you just have to go to the party,” he added.

“Or I could just not go,” I said.

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