Page 63 of Summertime Friends

It’s on tails.

I wanted it to be heads.

I pick it up carefully, shielding the coin and my hands from Emerson. Slyly, I flip it over to heads. Reaching out my hand to her, I open my palm.

“Heads. You’re up!” Her eyes go expressive.

“I hope you’re ready for it.” I wink.

“What are you thinking?”

“You’ll see.” As if I hadn’t known exactly how I wanted the day to end.

26

EMERSON

Now

Do you know how hard it is to get rid of an indentation of someone? This isn’t a foam mattress where the indentation goes away on its own, where in five minutes, you wouldn’t know that someone was lying on it earlier. No, we’re talking about a rough, callused, ridged indentation so deep that there isn’t a ladder to climb out of it or a way to fill it in. All of this is from someone who, every time you see them, speak to them, and sleep with them, you are the one who makes it more profound.

Liam’s indentation lies in my heart.

A recess the size of the Grand Canyon that I don’t think will ever be filled because he took some of me with him. And I was the one to hand it over. How are you supposed to fill in the indentation when you don’t have those parts of you to fill it back with?

I’ve tried.

I’ve tried my best to get over Liam Hayes. To fill the void. But getting over someone like him isn’t that easy—it’s nearly impossible. When I think I’ve made progress, some memory creeps into my mind and plays like a movie you can’t tear your eyes away from.

Until yesterday, it was at least a dull pain. Subtly there. Easy to ignore with practice—and I’ve gotten damn good at practicing. At least, I thought.

You live day after day, knowing it’s there, but you finally decide you enjoy it, so you stop trying to fix it. That pain becomes part of everyday life.

Missing and loving Liam is a part of everyday life.

The morning after we slept together for the first time, while we were twisted in the bedsheets, he let me know he made arrangements with work. Liam planned to join me for the remainder of my trip. He set aside everything to be with me. Liam chose me how no one else had.

My stomach dips and twists with thoughts about that decision and what transpired to get us here. Everything about Liam, that trip, and the years after is something you’d find in a book on my shelf.

My head throbs from crying all night. I don’t think I slept for a minute. All because I thought I had finally filled that indentation in with Brandon.

I woke to a text this morning from Brandon. He said he’ll swing by with my things from his place this afternoon. It won’t be much, only a few articles of clothing and bathroom products.

Our lives were never thoroughly combined. Retrospectively, that was probably a sign that it wouldn’t last.

He also said he’s not angry at me, which is a relief because I’m angry at myself.

I’m angry that I’ve been so naive about these feelings I’ve harbored.

Angry that I hurt him.

Angry that I’ve wasted so much of my life on someone.

And I don’t even know if I’m talking about Brandon. . . or Liam.

That’s how I ended up with Chloe on our way to Natalie’s.

27

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