His refusal not only to believe it but also to acknowledge my feelings infuriates me. “It is true!” I cry, causing him to jump back. “I was pissed off at you for doing that to me. After all we have been through, you tell me no. And why? I have no idea why you wouldn’t be interested in me.”
He is looking at me incredulously, as if seeing me for the first time. He says, “Did I say I wasn’t interested in you?”
“No.”
“Then why did you jump to that conclusion?” Unable to come up with an answer to his question, I stand there staring. He sighs and says, “That’s a line, Adrienne, and you know it. I never said I wasn’t interested. You meant a lot to me. Taking that step with a good friend could compromise the relationship we already had. I didn’t want to damage what we had. You know, ruin the friendship.”
It's all I can do to keep my mouth from dropping. “'Ruin the friendship?'” I repeat slowly. “That's bull. Completely and utterly bull.”
“What do you mean it’s bull?”
“That’s the line! Not the ‘let’s be friends’ thing. When someone says they’re worried a romantic relationship will ruin a friendship, it is one of two things. Either he’s lying to protect the girl’s feelings, or he’s lying to himself. It doesn’t matter which because when those three words come out, the friendship is never the same. It inevitably ruins the friendship.” My hand closes over my mouth but I have already said too much. It’s not like me to blurt out things of that nature. He gapes at me. Some part of what I said struck a chord in him. My heart flutters in anticipation as to which part it was. Somehow, I know that no matter what the answer is, the reality is truly far different.
His face becomes indifferent again. “You’re right.” He glances over at the grave. “Sometimes you can never go back.”
“What are you saying?”
“Maybe we can’t have what we used to have anymore. Some people can move past those moments in time and continue as if nothing ever happened. We didn’t. So,” he says with a shrug, “maybe we weren’t really friends to begin with.”
My heart breaks with how easily he speaks those words. I try to keep my composure as I struggle with what to say. “What? No. That’s simply not true. How can you say we weren’t friends?”
“Because friends talk to each other. Friends stay in touch. Friends don’t run away without a goodbye.” He counts each down on his fingers like a list. “Friends are there for each other.”
“Sometimes even good friends lose touch with each other.” Out of nowhere, I recall something important that might change his mind. “Remember what I talked about at graduation?”
He nods, looking down at his shoes. “Yes, I remember. You said you didn’t want to lose touch with me.”
“I didn’t. And I still don’t.” I want to touch my hand to his arm, reach out to him and draw him back to me.
“Well, you did.” He sighs, shaking his head. His eyes meet mine. “You can’t just erase and rewrite what happened. What’s done is done.”
I blink and swallow. The hand that wanted to touch his arm closes into a fist. “I know, but what about forgiveness?”
He looks over at the line of trees, thinking over what I said. Then he turns to me, and says, “Why should I when you couldn’t forgive me?” The look on his face says it all. Standing before me is a person I care for deeply. I would do anything for him. I would risk everything for him. It doesn’t make a difference. He turns away from me. “Just go.”
My hand absently clutches my heart. My legs can’t move. My tears are near the threshold. I say, “Chevy, please.”
“Just leave, Adrienne. We’re done here.”
Taking a small step back, I take one last look at him. Forlorn. Broken. Hopeless. It takes everything in me to turn and walk away. I don't look back. I can’t look back. This can’t be it; I shouldn’t be walking away from him. He needs me as much as I need him. My mind tosses me a glimpse of what we could have if we were together. Still, I can’t will myself to turn around. Deep down I want to, but I can’t look at him again.
Once I am over the hill and out of his sight, I break into a run and keep running until I reach my car. I get in and drive. I keep driving until I reach the abandoned barn just outside of town. When I park in the overgrown driveway and turn the car off, it happens.
I break down.
The tears drown as the sobs choke. Everything I kept bottled inside comes out in them. Everything from that moment at graduation through the horrible summer up until this moment. Memories tumble over the mess created today. Words left unsaid on top of the words said. They push at me, rip me up, tear me apart. A sharp pain crashes into my heart. It is unbearable. The culmination of the last couple of months collides into my body, taking away my breath. Regaining control will likely continue to elude me until further notice.
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I can't believe what I've done. I allowed this to happen when I could have prevented it. Mistake after mistake added up to where I am in this moment. It doesn’t make a difference. That’s what I said to myself back there. It doesn’t make a difference what I did or didn’t do. Turning back the clock wouldn’t change a thing. Part of me doesn’t want to believe it would not make a difference. All it takes is one mistake. That one mistake was my mistake.
That one mistake cost me everything.
Chapter Two
Saturday evening, August 22nd
I remember the first time I saw Chevy.
It was the middle of sophomore year. His family had just moved to Hamilton. News through the grapevine was traveling fast about the new kid. It was hard to decipher with the different impressions everyone had in their encounters with him. Some claimed he was cool, others said he was weird. There was only one thing they all agreed on, and that was that he was gorgeous. The girls were swooning while the boys wanted to punch his lights out for causing the girls to react that way. I never put too much credence into what girls say about boys. Their definition of attractive usually wasn’t relevant since most of the good-looking boys were jerks. Due to this fact, I never wanted to date.
Everything changed the instant he entered my morning study hall. I glanced up from my notebook at the tardy person, irritated. That look was instantly wiped from my face. Standing in the doorway was Chevy Thompson, the new kid. He was gorgeous; I had to admit they got that part right. His hair was a sort of wave coupled with bed-head. He was more dressed up than most boys bother in an argyle dark blue vest over white shirt and khakis.
It was strange but I felt attracted to him. For the first time in my life, I was attracted to a boy and he was a complete stranger.
I learned something in that moment. When you fall in love, the rest of the goings on in the world appear in peripheral. Nothing shakes or disturbs the train of thought. Your smile isn’t thrown on to hide how you really feel. It is how you feel. Happy. Content. As if something has finally gone right in your life and all the suffering up until then had a reason. The reason was him. It was childish of me to fall for somebody when we were not even dating. Yet, who are we to choose the circumstances? Chevy was special. I knew it deep down then, even though I didn’t know all the hows or whys yet.
Mr. Shapiro told him to find an empty seat to study. In a classroom with thirty seats, four of them were empty, including the one next to me. I was still smiling when he made eye contact. He smiled back and sauntered over to that seat. He said, “Hi.” I said, “Hi.” From that day forward, we were friends.