Page 31 of Falling Backwards
It was almost exactly a month after I approached her and sparked off what should’ve been a bunch of nothing but became absolutely everything.And it was mere moments after her hushed gasp had me spinning away from Jayden, who’d accosted me to try to pry about my situation with her.He’d been blabbing about the logistics of it and we didn’t notice her creeping up behind us to surprise me with a bottle of my favorite soda, only to find out….
Even he had mumbled, “Uh oh.”
An enormous understatement.She had just been slapped by the very rude awakening of hearing I asked her out basically because someone dared me to, and the heartbroken betrayal exploding through her expression was a kind of violence I’d never seen before.It hit me so hard I thought I was going to be sick—even her heaving the bottle of soda at me didn’t hurt as much as the look on her face.
I almost feel sick again now.
I think the last time I felt this unsettled about it was in January of this year, during my first shift back at Lucent after taking a handful of days off for vacation.I was walking a drink down the bar to a customer when a pleasantly light laugh came from across the way and had me looking to the front of the house.And in the next second, it was like I had been punched squarely in the stomach, the chest, the face—suddenly weak and winded, I quit walking and just stared at Maggie.She was going in the direction of the breakroom, wearing sophisticated black clothes like the rest of the staff, unaware of me because she was having a warm conversation with the owner.Obviously, I didn’t have real confirmation yet, but I swear I still knew it right then: she had somehow started working there, too, while I was gone.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her since high school.I glimpsed her around town on more than one occasion, especially at Merritt’s.Those moments had affected me in their own ways, sure, since my anger about her retaliation hadn’t lessened, only sunk down out of sight…but it wasn’t the same as how that day at Lucent affected me.I wasn’t only freshly angry, I wasshaken.
If we worked at the same place, there would no longer be any such thing as sporadic glimpses that, if we were lucky, only one of us had of the other.At Lucent, she would take hard notice of me at some point, and I would be unable to ignore her.There would be shared shifts.We would probably have to talk to each other, at least sometimes.And we woulddefinitelyalways feel each other’s presence because there would be no way not to—just like nobody forgets the first person to ever hold their heart, nobody forgets the first person to shatter it.
Only she didn’t shatter my heart the way I did hers.When we get down to it, mine got shattered mostly by me.
As I try to even out my breaths and control the deep discomfort rising in me, I realize I’ve started shaking my head at that last thought.
Damn it, I don’t want to feel this way.
I don’t want this fresh flare-up of guilt, this heaviness, this emotion that burns almost like sad longing.Where is it all even coming from after all this time?Why is it coming up now?
The other side of the coin is easier to deal with.
My embarrassment and resentment over the hurtful flyers she posted about me still plague me, but it’s different from how those other emotions plague me, which means I prefer them.I used them as easy fuel for firing up my walls that first day I saw her at Lucent.And I use them now to ward away everything about her that makes me feel weak.
Immature,whispers that same voice from moments ago.You’re as stupid right now as you were eight years ago.
It’s also the same voice from when I was arguing with Maggie in the breakroom.And like then, it doesn’t do anything to improve my mood.
“Motherfu—” With an annoyed huff, I spring up from the couch.
Yeah, I’m not going to do this.Not a bit of it.
The past is in the past.What happened was messy and painful and a lot of other things, but for many years, I did well at not letting it eat me alive.I went on with my business.Maggie coming to work at Lucent reopened the wounds somewhat, and it led to a lot more head-butting since there wasn’t as much distance between us as there had been, and we both refused to quit our jobs or scramble our hours because of each other, but so what?There’s no need for all this shit I’ve been doing the last several minutes.There’s no reason to get in my feelings.Today was nothing remarkable, and I’m tired of it lingering with me and bringing up old stuff with it.
I forcefully shake out my arms and legs as I go to the refrigerator.Paxton and my mom are both busy until later tonight, so I’m on my own for now, and I’m determined to loosen up and calm down.
Once I’m back on the couch with a beer in my hand and the need for a comedy TV show finally in my head, I tell myself out loud, “Snap out of it, Luke.You can’t change what you did, so that means dwelling on it doesn’t do any good.”
I pick up the remote control and turn the TV on.
“You’re an adult, remember?Let go of her.You did it once and you can do it again.”
Much of me nods hard in agreement, claps in encouragement.‘Yeah, that’s right!Don’t let her dictate what mood you’re in!She doesn’t matter!Everything is awesome!’
And yet….
There’s another part of me—that whispery part….
I clear my throat loudly as if to interrupt what it’s berating me with now, even though it isn’t berating me with anything.It’s justthere.Like it’s quietly holding its ground.
Well, I wish it wouldn’t do that, but hopefully it’ll retreat over the course of this beer and an episode ofThe Good Place.
I take a swig, bring up the show, and kick back into my Saturday evening like I mean it.
CHAPTER
THREE
