Page 83 of Told You So
By the time my bags are packed with as much as I can carry, I hurry for the door and I don’t look back.
Forty-Three
Nick
I’m practically walking on sunshine when I get to school Monday morning. I wasn’t sure I could sleep after Bethany left, but I was out like a light until my alarm went off at seven. I have no idea how this morning’s class will go, but I know I won’t be able to take my eyes off her, differently than before.
Heading toward class with fifteen minutes to spare, I figure a trip to the vending machine will be a good time-filler. When I see knotted blonde hair and the black and purple messenger bag I’ve stared at a dozen times, sitting on the bench, I walk over to Bethany, unable to resist my excitement.
“You came early,” I say, plopping down beside her. She startles and jumps, and when she peers up at me her eyes are red and puffy, like she’s been crying. I hadn’t been expecting that.
Bethany pulls her ear buds out one by one and blinks at me.
“What’s wrong?” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “What happened?”
She wipes at her eyes and shrugs. “I’m fine. Just tired. I got in a fight with my mom last night.”
About me.That’s the first thing I think of. “About what?”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, but I stayed at Anna Marie’s. She said I can stay with her for as long as I need. I just...I can’t be at home anymore.”
“Does Jesse know?”
She pulls the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands and swallows thickly. “I told him when I picked him up for school this morning. It’s not like I won’t be around anymore, I’ll still pick him up for school and stuff. He didn’t have much to say, but I think he understands.”
Although I’ve never met Bethany’s parents, I’ve known since middle school that I didn’t like them. “I’m glad you left,” I admit. “You can always come to my place.”
“Thank you.” Bethany smiles weakly and takes my hand, splaying our fingers together.
“You could’ve at least called me, you know?”
She nods. “I needed some girl time.” Bethany tries to downplay it all, but this is a big deal for her, leaving home, and I’m worried what this is really doing to her. “Besides, I don’t want my shit to be your shit. Not yet, anyway.”
“But I care about you, Bethany, and that means I’ll happily take on your shit too.”
She laughs but I’m serious. “Speaking of bullshit,” she says, and finally looks at me. “How are things with your parents?” Her eyes search mine, like she’s not sure it’s her business, but I would tell her anything. “I’ve been wanting to ask, but didn’t want to pry.”
“So, I got to pry, so now it’s your turn?” I wink at her and heave out a weighted sigh. Glancing around the quad, I search my feelings. The anger’s only simmering. The hurt is still there, but maybe that’s disappointment. Or, are they the same thing sometimes? “I don’t know.” I sigh again, trying to recall exactly where things were left. “For now, the farce continues. I thought they were pretending for me, but I guess it’s not only that. I think they’re lost. We’re having another family dinner next week, which is going to be weird as fuck, but it is what it is.” I pause. “I’m more worried about what I’m going to do after graduation. Now that I’ve decided Idon’twant to be an architect, I don’t really have a direction.”
“So, you’re certain about that, huh?”
“I’m certain,” I tell her easily. “It’s been a damned waste of time and money, and I hate thinking about it, but I haven’t been interested for a while now. I just wanted to make my dad happy. Now it all feels wrong, so...”
We sit in silence, my thoughts drifting to possible futures as Bethany sits quietly beside me.
“Everything is skewed when your eyes are wide open,” she says. “I’ve had this story in my head that I couldn’t leave my brother for so long, I don’t even know why anymore. That I couldn’t have my own place and go to school—that moving out was near impossible—but people do it all the time. Nothing is black and white.”
“True,” I concede.
Bethany groans. “I hate the gray areas though, too.”
“Until this year, my life has always been ‘white’ and my friends have always lived in the gray. Now, they’re the ones that are grounded and know who they are. They’ve already been through their shit. I’m the one that’s lost.”
Bethany laces her fingers with mine. I appreciate that we can be together like this now, comfortable and easy.
“Me, too,” she says. “We can be lost together.”
Grateful, I smile at her words and lean in for a soft peck on her lips. “Yeah,” I say, begrudgingly, “but we should probably at least find our way to class.”
