Page 5 of Told You So
I clear my throat, the timing of her call while Bethany is inside, waiting for me, shrinks the world in around me a little, and I feel uncomfortable. “You didn’t want to do the long-distance thing, remember?”
“Yeah, but...” she sighs. “That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I knew how hard this would be.”
I peer out at the dark street, watching what few cars are on the road pass, at a loss for words. We’ve gone around and around about this so many times, and it always ends the same. We try it out, it’s too hard for her, so we put an end to it. We take some time apart and somehow, we keep ending up where we started. I can’t do it anymore. As much as I care about her, I need some sanity too. “It’ll just—it’ll take time to get used to everything,” I tell her. I feel like a broken record, but she’s buzzed, and I’m not sure anything I say will matter all that much. “But I’m glad you called, and I’m glad you’re having fun...You deserve that, at least.”
“It’s not the same though,” she says sadly.
Shoving my cold, free hand into my pocket, I glance inside again to meet Bethany’s curious gaze. She quickly looks away and brings her phone to her ear.
“Nick,” Savannah says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Savannah.”
“Do you, really?” she asks hesitantly. “You sound...different tonight.”
“Yes, of course I miss you, but this is how things are now.”You’re the one who left.
Whether it’s my tone or that she knows deep down this isn’t a helpful conversation to be having, she finally says, “You’re right. I’ll let you go.” After an exhale, she adds, “Happy New Year, Nick. Tell everyone I say hi, would you?”
“Of course I will... Happy New Year.”
We hang up after a few seconds pause, and just as I’m about to head inside, the door swings open and Bethany and Jesse step outside, adjusting their coats.
“What’s up?” I ask, glancing inside to see what the rush is all about. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. We just need to get home. My mom’s worried.” There’s an unexpected distance to Bethany’s voice and all the walls she’d let down earlier, all the laughing and openness, is gone. “I already paid, so you don’t have to worry about it.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It was Jesse’s idea to come here, and it’s the least I can do for all your help tonight.” She flashes me a smile, but it’s a smokescreen. The distance she’s putting between us is too reminiscent of the past. I don’t like it, not after everything that’s happened tonight.
“Our ride’s here,” she says and gently urges Jesse toward a blue sedan parked at the curb. “Climb in where it’s warm, J.” Her tone brooks no argument as she pulls her blonde hair out of the collar of her jacket.
“So, you’re leaving, just like that?” I’m not sure if I’m more upset or confused.
“I need to get Jesse home,” she says, digging around in her purse. “It’s late, and my parents—well...” She shrugs.
“They didn’t seem too worried earlier,” I remind her.
She’s tapping something into her phone as she walks to the sedan.
“Hey—” I say, and reach for her arm. “What’s with you all of the sudden?”
Finally, she looks at me. Her lips are pursed and her delicate eyebrows are drawn together. “Thank you for your help tonight, Nick. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I mean that.” But her brow furrows even more and she gets into the car without another word and shuts the door.
Just as suddenly as she appeared in my life this evening, she disappears again. And like always, I’m left standing there with my mind spinning and the all too familiar sting of disappointment.
Seven Years Ago
“See. I told you it was a good idea to come.” Walking into the kitchen, in a new track home with fancy furniture and large rooms I’ve never been in before, I peer around at the swarm of people, appraising the party. Everyone is here—the jocks, the skaters, the theater geeks—but it’s not surprising; it’s the first party this school year. With a couple pre-game beers already in me, I smile at the possibilities. Baseball...girls...beer...If this party is any indication of how Junior year will be, I’m already loving life. “This place is crackin’.”
“Sure it is,” Reilly grumbles behind me, but I just smile at his typical Reilly response, Mr. All-American Good Boy, who doesn’t like living anywhere near the edge. I don’t give him any grief, though. Knowing what he has to go home to every day, I don’t blame him for being less rebellious than the rest of us.
“You only live once, Rye. Try to have some fun. You’re staying at my house tonight, anyway, so you don’t have to worry about anything. My parents will be in bed by nine.” I pop a potato chip into my mouth. “Want a beer yet?”
