First and Last (21 page)

My eyes squeeze shut listening to the harsh truth of how I made her feel. “No, that’s not what that was.” I can’t even meet her eyes I’m so disgusted and ashamed with myself. “When we went back to your room and started arguing, I’ll admit I knew then I was going to walk away. But I had to love you one last time before I went. I wanted to remember us the way we were, even if it was short-lived. To feel your love and our connection. It was selfish and wrong, but in that moment, I needed you. I collapsed on top of you and had to hold back the tears because I knew what was coming next. It killed me to do that to you and I’ve never been the same since.”

We hold each other’s focus for a while. Neither of us even blinking as we digest everything that has happened today. It’s been unexpected to say the least.

“So what happens from here? I’m not over everything and I don’t trust you completely. I know I can’t pick up where we left off if that was what you were hoping for.”

I shake my head. “I broke your trust and don’t expect to have it right away. That’s something that I’ll have to earn back if you give me the chance. And no, I know we can’t pick up where we left off. I just want you in my life. I want to be able to call you and laugh at stupid jokes or bitch about stupid people. You’re the jelly to my peanut butter and I want my friend back. Would you be okay with keeping in touch after this?” I hold my breath as I wait for her to respond, terrified she’ll tell me to fuck off.

She swallows hard before nodding the tiniest bit, but it’s enough confirmation for me. I couldn’t stop the huge smile that spreads across my face if I tried. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve had in years and I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. It’s liberating and freeing. No, things aren’t back to the way they were, but I’ll take it.

“You coming home for the summer?”

“Yeah. I have to be out of my apartment by next week, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. I guess it depends on how long it takes me to get a job.” She takes a sip of water the waitress had brought over.

“Where have you applied?”

“There’s a spot in New York that just opened, and I have applications out in Georgia, North Carolina, and Florida.”

Wow, those are all pretty far. “What did you end up majoring in? Journalism or social work?”

“I went with journalism.”

When we were in high school, she talked about going into social work to help kids in her situation that maybe weren’t as fortunate. Her mom decided she couldn’t take care of Mia anymore, and if it weren’t for Mr. Avery, who knows what would have happened to her. A lot of kids don’t have someone else to take care of them and go into the system. So I’m a little surprised to hear she didn’t pursue it. “Really? You were always a good writer, so I guess it makes sense.”

“Yeah, I saved your ass on a few papers if I remember correctly,” she says with a smirk.

I let out a chuckle. “Well, if
I
remember correctly, someone was going to fail the eighth grade if it weren’t for my amazing math skills.”

She laughs too. “Okay, we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

June 2006

A
fter I got back from seeing Mia at her graduation, we started texting each other here and there. At first it was maybe once a day, but the frequency slowly increased to several times a day. I’ll hand in my man card if I need to, but every time my phone would ping with a new text, I’d grin like an idiot. I can’t help it, she makes me happy.

It wasn’t long after that, that we started actually talking on the phone, and a few weeks after she moved back to Tennessee, we decided to meet up for some coffee as friends. So that’s what I’m doing here, waiting for her to walk through the door.

I’m normally not this nervous to meet up with a friend, but none of them are Mia. I grab us a quiet table in a corner and sit facing the door. My knee bounces as I anxiously wait for her to get here. After going three years without seeing her face, these last four weeks have been torture.

You have to play it cool, Blake. Don’t make this more than it is. Just two old friends having some coffee and catching up.

My mind tells me this over and over, but my heart beats furiously against my chest, knowing the one it belongs to is close by.

The bell above the door dings, catching my attention. Mia searches the room before her eyes fall on mine. I swear every time I see her is like the first time. She’s stunning even in her jeans and tank top.

“Hey,” she says cheerfully.

“Hey,” I reply back. I don’t know if I should stand up and give her a hug, a handshake, a wave, or just sit here. Man, this is so awkward.

“Did you order already?”

“No, I was waiting for you. What do you want?” Mia and I weren’t coffee drinkers when we graduated high school, so I have no idea what she’ll order.

“A regular coffee, black, please.”

“Like it strong, do you?”

She shrugs. “Worked faster when I needed to stay up for finals.”

I place our orders and bring them back to our table when they’re ready. We both sip from our cups, careful not to burn ourselves. My eyes fixate on her lips momentarily as they blow on her hot coffee. I can clearly remember the last time we—

“So, what have you been up to this summer so far?” she asks.

I blink several times to get my head back where it belongs. “Nothing really, just working. What about you? Do you have any plans?”

“Nope, just trying to get a job.”

“Being an adult sucks, right?”

“It really does. It’s weird. I mean, I’ve been living away from home for the last four years, so I should feel grown up by now. But it’s sort of hitting me now that I have a degree and this sense of
what now?
”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I take another drink of my coffee. “Tell me about school. What’s your favorite memory?” I ask, trying to keep things light. I would know this about her already if I had been there. Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue about the last few years of her life.

“Favorite memory . . .” She trails off, looking up at the ceiling. “I moved off campus my sophomore year with Claire and her boyfriend, Stephen. We had a lot of good times, but the first one that comes to mind is when we had a party for Stephen’s birthday. We had a couple friends pick us up two kegs since we weren’t twenty-one yet. It ended up being way too much beer and we never even tapped the second keg. A couple weeks later, our friend Will comes over and we decide to open this thing. I guess Stephen had never opened a keg before because he turned the tap the wrong way and beer shoots out everywhere. It was like Old Faithful in our living room. Beer was all over the ceiling, the floor, everything.”

“Oh, man,” I say with a slight laugh.

“Stephen is trying to power through it to fix it so it’s spraying all in his face and he can’t even open his eyes. He finally gets it on right and everything is good. Except now the beer is all shook up, so it’s only pouring foam. But Stephen and Will didn’t care and drank it anyway.”

“Did you drink it?”

“Ew, no. I’m not a huge fan of beer anyway, so warm foam is definitely out of the question. Anyway, so they eventually decide to do some keg stands. Will braces his hands on the edges of the keg and kicks his legs up. Stephen catches them and he lifts him up in a handstand. Then he drops him!” she says, wide-eyed. “He bounced off our hard floor and just laid there and we all died.” Mia starts laughing just thinking about it, tears filling her eyes and she gets red in the face. “I don’t know why, but that was the funniest thing to all of us.” She dabs at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.

I laugh with her. “Was Will okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just a damaged ego.”

I smile warmly at her. Her whole face is lit up thinking back on that night and it makes me wish so bad that I was there with her to experience it. I wanted to be a part of all her good memories. “I’m really happy you had fun while you were there.” It was my biggest concern I’d hold her back. I wanted her to have the full college experience, and I was afraid she couldn’t have us both.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy, and it took me a while, but I got there.” She looks at her coffee mug and traces the rim of it with her finger.

“What ever happened with Petey?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“Uh,” she hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

“I saw you two together, so you can talk about him. It’s not a secret or anything.” I try to put her at ease, hoping I sound relaxed despite my internal need to beat his face in.

She swallows before speaking. “We didn’t work out.” Her eyes remain on her cup, refusing to meet mine. “We dated for a while, but eventually went our separate ways my sophomore year.”

I want to pry and ask why. Ask her if her feelings for me have anything to do with it, but I don’t. “Are you guys still friends? Do you stay in touch?”

She laughs softly, but there’s not humor in it. “No, definitely not. He’s not exactly my biggest fan.” Her gaze comes up and meets mine. She must see the questions all over my face because she continues. “And before you ask, I don’t really want to go into the details, but he said he got tired of always competing for my affection. He couldn’t deal with being my heart’s second choice, so we broke up and never spoke again.” She shrugs like her confession didn’t send my heart soaring.

Her heart’s second choice.

The importance of those words hits me full force, giving me hope.

We talk some more, changing the topic, and before I know it, two hours have gone by. Mia checks the time on her phone. “Wow, I really should be going. I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”

“Yeah, I better go too.” I stand up and help her from her chair before walking her out the door. “I’m parked this way.” I point to the right.

“I’m over here.” She points to the left.

“Alright, well, I had a good time. It was nice seeing you again.” My hands go in my front pockets and I rock back and forth on my heels awkwardly.

“Yeah, you too. We’ll have to do it again sometime soon.”

“I’d really like that,” I say with a smile.

“Okay, well, bye,” she stammers out. At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what to do or say here. She holds her arms open and pauses, asking if a hug is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s wanted—needed.

Mirroring her gesture, I walk toward her and wrap her in a tight hug. My eyes close as I take in her scent. A scent that brings back so many memories. All too soon, she’s pulling away and I’m forced to let go.

“Text me,” she says.

“I will.”

And she walks away.

How can it feel the same but be so different? Certain moments felt like no time had passed at all. It’s as if we were never separated and I had never acted like a dick. But each new story was followed by a space of awkwardness, and you could tell we were trying to fill the void. That used to never happen to us. Maybe in the future it won’t always be this way. Maybe in the future, we’ll be more.