by Mila Gray
Tristan takes me by my shoulders and stares at me. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I don’t want to do a long-distance relationship.”
My breath catches in my throat. He doesn’t want to even try to stay together. He wants to break up.
“Come with me,” Tristan whispers, his arms tightening on my shoulders.
“What?” I whisper.
“Come with me,” he says.
I stare at him, and it takes a second to realize that he’s not breaking up with me. The relief almost bursts out of me in a sob, but then the reality of what he’s asking sinks in. How can I come with him? How can he even ask me to? He knows I can’t leave my mom and Kate and Cole, especially not now. But, oh my God, it would be a lie to say I’m not tempted.
He’s staring at me, an almost desperate, pleading look in his eye, and I’m momentarily caught up in a dream of what that life might look like. Florida. The two of us, living together in a little house that’s just ours. I can picture it as clear as daylight. The cozy bed with clean white sheets, the vase of flowers on the kitchen table, the coats and shoes by the door. Tristan waking up each morning and heading off in his uniform to pilot school, me packing my backpack and heading to college. I think of waking up in his arms every morning, my head on his chest, and going to sleep with him every night, curled on my side, his arm flung over me, anchoring me in place. But it’s just a fairy tale. And just like a spell cast by an evil witch, it all evaporates before my eyes.
“Please,” Tristan says. “Just think about it.”
I shake my head sadly. “I can’t go,” I tell him.
His jaw tenses as he grits his teeth in frustration. His arms drop from my shoulders, and it feels as if he’s left invisible weights behind, pressing down on me.
Tristan backs away, an expression on his face that breaks my heart all over again. He looks hurt beyond measure, and angry, too, as though I’ve wounded him. I’ve never seen him look that way before, and it shocks me. He can’t expect me to choose between him and my family, though. That isn’t fair. And besides, he’s the one choosing to leave, not me. I don’t blame him. He’s choosing his career over me, just as I’m choosing my family over him. And maybe that’s it. Maybe that should tell us something.
“Maybe,” I say to him with a shrug, “it’s for the best.”
Tristan frowns at me, and instantly I regret saying it. The hurt in his eyes grows, and he takes another step back from me. He doesn’t say anything, and we’re disturbed by a knock on the door. We both startle, but neither of us moves to answer it. We keep staring at each other, words pressing against our lips but neither of us saying anything. Both of us too afraid, perhaps, and reeling too hard. How has this conversation veered so far from where it started to end up here, at this dead-end place?
“Zoey?”
I turn. Kate has opened the door and is peering around it. “We’re late,” she says. “I thought you said two minutes.” Her smile fades as she takes in the look on my face, and then, frowning a little, she glances toward Tristan before turning back to me. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she says.
“No,” I say, finding my voice at last. “I’m coming.” And with that I run after her, not even glancing back at Tristan or saying good-bye.
TRISTAN
She just broke up with me. Or did I break up with her? What the hell just happened? I pick the letter up from the floor where Zoey dropped it. The problem is I want one as much as the other. I want Zoey, but I also want this. I’ve wanted to be a pilot since I was a kid. I’ve been waiting on a spot at pilot school for a year. It’s a rare opportunity, and if I turn it down it’s unlikely they’ll offer it again. I know Zoey gets that, but I don’t get why she can’t come with me. It’s the perfect solution. As soon as I said it out loud, I knew it was the only one that made sense, but I’d do long-distance if I had to. It’s not what I want, but it’s better than breaking up. I never wanted that.
I’m so confused. What did she mean that maybe it was for the best? Has she been having doubts about us? Was I just a means to an end for her? Did she just need someone to make her feel safe?
My phone buzzes. I’m hoping it might be Zoey as I reach for it but see that it’s not her; it’s Walker. He’s outside waiting. Shit. I’d forgotten. Kit’s bachelor party starts in twenty minutes. I race around, grabbing clothes and my wallet and keys, my mind too distracted to remember what I need. I almost think about bailing, because I’m not sure I can sit all day and pretend happiness when I feel like the world just got ripped out from under my feet. But I can’t bail. It’s been planned for months, and what kind of a friend would I be if I did?
When I rush outside a few minutes later and see Walker in his Jeep, which is loaded with fishing poles and coolers, I decide that I need to put on a brave face. I can’t ruin Kit’s bachelor party, so I force a smile as I jump in beside Walker.
“Let’s get this show on the road!” I shout as he guns the Jeep’s engine.
ZOEY
What happened? Did you guys argue?” Kate asks as I drive.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Is everything okay?” Kate presses.
I take a deep breath, unsure whether to tell her, not because I want to keep a secret from her, but because I’m afraid if I talk about it I’ll start crying, and I really, really can’t afford to cry.
“Did you break up?” Kate asks.
I don’t answer.
“Oh my God,” Kate whispers. “You broke up. Why?”
“One of those things,” I say, blinking away the tears and focusing on the road. How can I tell her the truth—that I couldn’t leave and he couldn’t stay? That she and Cole and Mom are the reason?
“But you guys seem so happy,” she says in shock. “You’re so good together. I don’t get it.”
“He’s going to Florida,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Kate asks.
“He got into flight school, and it’s in Florida.”
Kate looks at me, confused. “So?” she asks. “It’s not like it’s a one-way mission to Mars. There are these things called planes. They’re long metal tubes that fly through the sky and take you from A to B, B being Florida.” She reminds me of Tristan when she says things like that. It’s like she’s picked up his humor by osmosis.
“It’s not that,” I say. “I don’t want to do long-distance, and neither does he.”
“Why not?” Kate asks.
“It never works,” I say, looking at her pointedly.
Kate shuts up at that, unable to argue with me.
“Besides, it’s for the best,” I say, repeating myself from earlier, though the words sound hollow even to my ears.
“How is it for the best?” Kate asks.
Now it’s my turn to shut up, because I have no idea how to answer.
We ride the rest of the way in silence. Kate seems sulky, her arms crossed over her chest, her mouth pursed. My hands grip the wheel so tightly, and I’m trying so hard not to cry that it hurts every time I breathe. I wonder how I will get through today as we pull through the gates at Emma’s house.
Kate breaks her silence finally as I round the bend and the house appears. She lets out a gasp. “Oh my God …”
I look up at the pink- and champagne-colored balloons bedecking the pillars, making the house look like it’s wearing a frothy tutu.
“This is the most amazing house I’ve ever seen,” Kate says, amazed.
I park. Kate nervously smooths down her dress, one that I bought for her as a gift. It’s turquoise and brings out the brilliant copper tone of her hair. She looks stunning, and for a brief moment the happiness I feel at seeing her giddy excitement cuts through my unhappiness and makes me smile.
As we get out of the car and walk across the gravel driveway toward the house, the door flies open and Dahlia and Didi rush out, throwing handfuls of confetti over us, as though we’re the bride and groom. They sweep us up and carry us inside, across the cool entrance hall a
nd toward the French doors at the back of the house that lead to the garden.
Kate drags her heels, staring around in wonder. Dahlia links her arm through Kate’s and starts peppering her with questions as they walk. This is the first time they’ve met, but Tristan must have told her all about Kate, because I can tell she’s determined to make sure Kate feels welcome. I watch Dahlia introduce her to Emma, and I see Kate blush and stammer a hello, feeling another surge of happiness for Kate rush through me. Vegas and Lis might be becoming distant memories for her. I wonder if that will ever happen to me. Will I ever forget Tristan and move on? I don’t think so. It feels as if a fundamental part of me has shattered.
The back of the house has been decorated with balloons as well, and a variety of floaties cover the surface of the pool, so that I can catch only the vaguest glimpse of glittering blue water between them. There’s a unicorn, a giant pair of red lips, and a flamingo. A dozen sun loungers surround the pool, and on each of them rests a neatly folded pink bathrobe with our names embroidered in gold thread.
Vases filled with stargazer lilies are set on tables alongside cupcakes decorated with sprinkles. There’s a chocolate fountain and a tray of sparkling champagne flutes. Didi offers me one. “Nonalcoholic this time!” she says when she sees me hesitate.
I take it from her and force another smile, realizing my happy face slipped for a moment.
“What’s going on?” Didi asks, narrowing her eyes at me in suspicion.
“Nothing,” I say lightly, and then, changing the subject, I gesture brightly at the sun loungers. “Did you organize all this?”
“Dahlia and me,” she says, grinning. “Just wait until you see what we’ve got planned for later. Jessa’s going to love it.”
She turns to me, and I smile so hard my cheeks ache. “It’s amazing,” I tell her.
“Have you been crying?” she asks.
Damn. I should have worn sunglasses. “No,” I say, lying through my teeth, feeling the acid sting of more tears gathering behind my eyes.
“It’s not your dad, is it?” she asks, worried.
I shake my head. “No. Everything’s fine. I haven’t heard from him. I think he’s decided to leave us alone.” I don’t know if I believe this, but it sounds good to say it out loud. Thankfully, before Didi can pepper me with more questions, Jessa appears on the patio. She’s wearing a pale pink sundress, and her baby bump is starting to show. She looks so radiant and glowing that my breath, still catching painfully every time I inhale, gets stuck somewhere in my chest. I tear up as I watch her walk toward us, smiling a little shyly, her cheeks dusted pink. She’s rushed by all of her friends, and in that moment, I turn and run, not wanting anyone to see the tears that are now falling freely.
I find myself by the pool house. The door is open, so I run inside, closing it behind me. I sink down on the sofa, and suddenly all the pain and hurt I’ve been holding in comes bursting out of me like an avalanche. There’s no way of holding it back.
It was the sight of Jessa that set me off, acting like a final hammer thwack to the crack in my heart that was damming all the tears. She and Kit are so in love, and I’m jealous. I’m jealous of their happy-ever-after. I felt a kick in the chest of anguish that I’m about to lose not just Tristan but his friends, too. I was just getting close with all of them, but the truth is they only invited me because of my connection to Tristan. I don’t know them well enough yet for our friendship to endure when they find out Tristan and I are no longer together.
The door clicks behind me, and I startle and look up. It’s Didi and Dahlia. “There you are,” Didi says.
“I’m sorry,” I say, avoiding their eyes, hoping the dim light will hide the state of my face. “I was looking for a bathroom,” I add, turning away as though pretending to look for one.
Didi comes toward me, blocking my path. “What’s the matter?”
I look up at her, my lip trembling. I thought I could hold it together, but I can’t. “Tristan,” I say, my voice cracking. “We broke up.”
Dahlia’s face twists in shock. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.” She purses her lips. “What did my brother do?”
I shake my head and sink back down onto the sofa. They sit beside me, one on either side, and put their arms around my shoulders. “He’s going away to Florida for pilot school.”
“Oh,” Didi says.
“What?!” Dahlia exclaims. “He never told me this.”
“Me either. I only just found out. But he’s known for a month.”
“I don’t get it,” Dahlia says. “Why are you breaking up?” She sounds like Kate did with her reaction back in the car.
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I admit. I feel like I’ve lost track of the arguments we both made. “It just seemed too far to make it work. He wanted me to go with him.”
Didi and Dahlia exchange a look. I make to stand up and put an end to the conversation. We need to get back to the party before Jessa wonders where all her guests have gone. “I’m fine,” I tell them. “I don’t want Jessa to—”
The door opens again. This time it’s Jessa.
“There you are!” Jessa says. “I was looking for you.”
Jessa’s smile fades the moment she sees Dahlia and Didi with their arms around me. “What is it?” she asks, concerned, rushing toward me the same way Dahlia did. I feel completely overwhelmed that I came in here to escape and now they’re all here and making a fuss.
“Nothing,” I say, smiling furiously, trying to bat them all away and walk to the door. “I’m absolutely fine. Let’s go.”
Jessa stops in front of me, hands on her hips. For a softly spoken, sweet-hearted girl, she suddenly reveals an inner core of steel. “You don’t seem okay. What happened?”
“She and Tristan broke up,” Dahlia explains.
“What?” she says, aghast and looking at me. “Why?”
“He’s going away to Florida, to pilot school.”
Jessa shakes her head. “Why are you breaking up?” she asks, confused.
I open my mouth, and then I shut it again. Every time someone asks me this, I realize I don’t honestly know the answer anymore. If I ever did. “I don’t think it will work,” I say lamely.
Jessa makes a tutting sound. “That’s nonsense,” she says. “Kit was away for months and months when we first started dating.”
I cringe. How could I have forgotten that? My own brother is away for months at a time too. That’s the cost of being with someone in the military.
“We made the choice to stay together,” Jessa tells me. “It wasn’t even a choice, if I’m honest.” She says it gently, but I can’t help but blush. I feel so stupid to be talking about this in the face of what she went through with her brother and Kit. “It’s difficult,” she goes on. “I won’t lie. But at least you’ll be able to see Tristan. It’s only Florida.”
“Why don’t you go with him?” Didi asks.
“I can’t go. I’ve got my job here, and”—I shrug, embarrassed—“I’ve got friends.” For the first time in my life, I want to add but don’t. I like it here in Oceanside. It feels like I’ve finally found a home, but how much of that feeling is because Tristan is here?
“You’d make friends somewhere else,” Didi says.
“Especially if you started college,” Dahlia adds.
“And you’d come back and visit all the time,” Jessa says. “And it wouldn’t be forever. Just a year or so.”
“Plus, Florida is just like Oceanside. There are beaches everywhere! Just a few more alligators.”
I bite my lip, considering it, then shake my head. “I can’t leave Kate and Cole and my mom. They need me. I don’t know how my mom would cope without me. Not just paying the bills but taking care of Kate and Cole too. I can’t just run off and leave them, no matter what I want.”
As I say it, I realize that it is what I want. It’s the first time I’ve voiced it, either in my head or out loud. I do want to go with him; even though it’s terrifying and feels
like a huge leap, I know that I want to be with Tristan wherever he goes. The thought of traveling, of living with him and not being responsible for anyone else, is amazing. But it’s impossible.
“What?”
I whip around.
Kate is standing in the middle of the doorway. “What did you just say?” she asks. “Are you breaking up with Tristan because of me?”
“No,” I say quickly, “that’s not—”
“I heard you,” Kate shoots back. “You said you couldn’t go because you didn’t want to leave us, but that’s stupid. I don’t want you to stay because of me. You don’t need to.”
I don’t know what to say. I look at her and then around at the others, who are all silently watching me. I didn’t think I had a choice, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I do.
TRISTAN
Kit, Walker, and I are sitting at the back of the boat, lines cast. Behind us, Kit’s dad and Jessa’s dad are arguing politics, but in a way that tells me they’ve known each other for decades and can each take as much ribbing as the other is capable of doling out. They’re preparing the fish, gutting them like true experts, readying them for the grill. As I watch Jessa’s dad fling the fish guts into a bucket by his feet, I feel like I know exactly how the fish feels.
I stare at the choppy waves and the achingly blue sky and think about my choices. Sea or sky. I can’t have both. Or I can’t have both and Zoey. I get it—I understand why she can’t come to Florida, but I’m hurt she broke up with me because of it. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like one giant mistake I should be able to rewind. Maybe if I had a do-over, I could say the right things and they wouldn’t add up to a breakup.
I need to speak to her, but of course, out here, miles from land, there’s no cell phone reception. And besides, I shouldn’t be pleading with my girlfriend over the phone when I’m meant to be helping Kit enjoy this weekend. He seems to be having a good time so far—his feet are kicked up on the rail, there’s a beer in his hand, and he’s grinning like he’s delighted these are his last days of single life. It’s wrong to feel jealous, especially after what he went through. Kit told me once that Jessa’s the reason he made it home, the reason he’s still alive. I know that he and Jessa have faced a lot, but they’ve weathered it. They’ve survived and come out stronger on the other side. They’re getting married and having a baby, for God’s sake.