by Brit Benson
I fucking love this woman.
The ride back to Ivy and Jacob’s house is ominously quiet.
Ivy plans to stay at her mom’s tonight, and she and I will drive back early tomorrow, so she can make it to sit for her 9 a.m. LSAT. I completely forgot about her test, and I’m surprised she’s so calm about it. When I pull up outside of the house, Ivy sends Jacob inside, and the sense of unease I’ve been harboring grows.
Fuck. This won’t be good.
“Thanks for being there today. I really appreciated it.” Her voice is almost robotic.
“Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”
Ivy takes a deep breath. The unfeeling coldness of her blue eyes punches me right in the gut before she even opens her mouth.
“Kelley, I don’t think this— you and me—is a good idea right now. I think we need some distance.”
I’m dumbfounded. “Distance.”
“Yes. Distance.”
“You need distance from me.” I reiterate, and my eyes fixate on her fingers fidgeting in her lap. It’s the only sign that this might be difficult for her.
“I really appreciate you coming with me today, but the truth is that this likely wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so distracted over the last few weeks.”
“Distracted. I’m a distraction.”
Ivy at least has the decency to wince, but it’s gone in a flash and back is her pointed stare. “Yes. I’m sorry, but yes. I’ve neglected Jacob entirely and that’s unacceptable.”
“Ivy, what happened with Jacob today was not your fault.”
She shakes her head. “I was negligent, and this fight was the result. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse. I thought I could do this, balance everything and you. I thought I wouldn’t fail in the other areas. But I was wrong, and I did fail, and it’s because I lost focus. I have a plan, and I can’t afford to waste time on a fling.”
“A fling?” I spit the word. “That’s bullshit, Ivy, and you know it. This isn’t a fling. You’ve enjoyed every moment you’ve spent with me these past few weeks.”
“Enjoying the time with you isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is? Because from where I’m sitting, it feels like you’re running. I’ve made you feel too much, and you don’t know how to balance it, so you’re gonna push me away. I put your emotions into overdrive, and it terrifies you.” She looks out the window, refusing to meet my eyes. “This thing with you and me,” I continue, “was never a fling. It’s always been more, and that scares you because you didn’t plan for it.”
“You’re right,” she sputters. The anguish in her voice fucking crushes me. “I didn’t plan for it because it can’t happen. I can’t let myself lean on you again, Kelley. I can’t get lost in you. I can’t need you. Not again.”
“What do you mean again?” Her eyes are clamped shut, brow furrowed. “Prom? Are you talking about prom?” I watch as she tries to take measured breaths. “You said you’d forgiven me for that.” The pain in my words is loud, echoing through the car.
“It’s not...” she shakes her head and takes a deep breath, “It’s not that. I just can’t have a relationship right now. It doesn’t fit. You don’t fit.”
I feel like she’s slapped me.
“I don’t fit? Where? In your life? In your plans? Where don’t I fit, Ivy?”
“Anywhere,” she croaks. “Not right now. Not like this.” Her voice is a broken whisper, her eyes brimming with tears she’s fighting hard not to shed.
“Ivy,” I plead. “I won’t...I can’t... I cannot go back to just being your friend. Not after having you like this. I can’t. If you’re saying what I think you’re saying...”
My voice trails off and Ivy dashes another tear away from her cheek.
My chest physically aches. This is what real heartbreak feels like. I thought I’d felt it before, the first time she left, but I was wrong. The resigned, decided look that takes over her face? That is heartbreak.
“It’s my decision,” she clips out. “If you don’t want to drive me in the morning, I understand. I will take care of it.”
I gape at her, hurt and angry and fucking wrecked. As if I would leave her hanging. As if I would ever leave her hanging.
“I’ll be here at seven.”
She nods curtly, all-business. “Okay. See you then.”
And then she leaves me without a backward glance.
Again.
18
One Month After Senior Prom
I watch Ivy walk by the soccer field, but like the cowardly, prideful asshole I am, I say nothing. We haven’t spoken since prom. She hasn’t reached out, and neither have I.
It’s fine. I’m pissed that she left me for that lame-ass twerp after our argument in the lounge. I am definitely in the right, and she’s in the wrong. Right? Like, she basically shit all over our friendship by choosing Butt Munch Tyler. I said some shitty things, and yeah, I felt terrible afterwards, but I dumped Shelby after prom, and Ivy still won’t even look at me.
How are we supposed to fix things if she won’t even look at me?
Yeah. This is all her fault.
But that still doesn’t stop my eyes from tracking her every move.
“Trouble in Ivy and Kelley’s perfect paradise?” I didn’t even hear Preston come up next to me. “Can’t help but notice you guys ain’t been talking. Or sitting together. Or riding to school together,” he pries. “D’you finally fuck her?” He laughs, and I snap my eyes to him.
“Shut the fuck up, Preston.”
“Whoa, man, just asking. You’ve been laying that groundwork for years. Just thought maybe you’d finally pumped and dumped.”
“What the fuck, dude?”
He laughs loudly, oblivious that I don’t find his joke funny.
“If you’re done with her then can the rest of us have a try?” He’s taunting me. “Nice tits, big ass.” I’m seething, and when he cups his junk like a douche, I lose it, and attack him. He’s so surprised that I get three good punches in before he reacts.
The rest of the soccer team has to break us up, but not before I blacken Preston’s eye, bloody his nose, and fuck up the left side of his abdomen with a fuckton of knuckled body shots.
* * *
High School Graduation
I spent the last week of school on suspension for kicking Preston’s ass. No one seemed to care that he deserved it, but I didn’t care that I was suspended. At least I didn’t have to see Ivy. Seeing Ivy hurts. I missed a call from her last week after the fight, but she didn’t leave a message. I haven’t worked up the courage to call her back yet.
She spoke to my parents briefly after the graduation ceremony today. Her salutatorian speech was amazing, and I had to fight to keep my eyes off her.
There’s a huge graduation party out at Shelby’s tonight. Despite the fact that I beat the fuck out of him, Preston wants me to go, but I’d rather avoid my ex. Plus, I don’t want to see Preston’s dumbass even if his black eye and fat lip lighten my mood.
I tell myself my lack of enthusiasm for attending this party isn’t because I know Ivy wouldn’t be caught dead there. I turn my phone off and watch a stupid fucking horror movie and fall asleep by 11 p.m.
The next morning, I’m bored and watch a bunch of Instagram stories from the party. In the back of one of them, I see Ivy. I know it’s her because I’ve watched the fucking thing twenty times. It’s from around 10:30 p.m., and there’s not another sighting of her the rest of the night. I even went and stalked other people’s stories. Anyone who I thought would be there, including Shelby and Ivy’s ex, Tyler, I creeped on their damn social media, but nothing.
I wait five days before my curiosity gets the better of me and I drive to Ivy’s house. Her phone has been going straight to voicemail, all of my texts are unread, and I’m done waiting. This has gone on long enough. I know she broke up with Tyler after prom. It’s fucking stupid that we’re avoiding each other. We need to just fucking forget everything happened and
move on. We’re going to college together, for god’s sake. We can’t hate each other forever, right? She can’t stay mad at me forever. Right?
Jacob is playing outside when I pull up, so I ask him if he can grab Ivy for me.
“She’s gone,” he tells me with a shrug. I ask where and for how long, and he says he doesn’t know, and probably for the summer.
Okay, fine.
The summer. I’ll give her the summer.
As soon as college starts in the fall, we’ll fix this.
* * *
Freshman Year at Butler University
She’s not here.
I’ve searched faces at every freshman welcome assembly. Stalked every fucking dorm. Even checked over the student directory until my eyes practically bled.
She’s not here. She’s not at Butler.
Her phone is disconnected. I know because I’ve tried calling from mine at least a hundred times and from my roommate’s probably a hundred more.
The next weekend, I head back home and straight to Ivy’s mom’s house. No one answers, so I go to the diner where her mom works.
I ask where Ivy is. I ask what happened to her cellphone. I ask why she’s not at BU on academic scholarship like she should be.
“Ivy needs distance,” her mom says. “Stop trying to contact her for now, okay, Kelley? She’s going to be gone for a while. It’s best you leave her be.”
Distance? What the fuck does that even mean? She just up and left?
Shit. How did I fuck up so badly?
I drive back to campus that night, go to the first frat party I can find, and get absolutely trashed. And then I do it again the next weekend. When I find a blonde girl with blue eyes, I bring her back to my dorm and fuck her. I fumble through it, make a total ass of myself, and I’m not sure, but I think I called her Ivy.
And then I do it again the following weekend.
Then I start going out on Thursdays.
Then Wednesdays, too.
I move up from hooking up with only blondes to pretty much any girl who is willing. I get tanked on weekdays. I give zero fucks about anything else. Just getting wasted and hooking up. “Booze and broads,” Preston says. He loves hearing about my downward spiral. I think it’s probably the only reason we still talk. It makes my stomach churn, but I ignore it.
Then I get a letter informing me that I’m on academic probation. The same day I turn up to soccer practice blitzed off my ass and the coach kicks me off the team.
My parents are fucking pissed, I’m embarrassed as hell, and Preston thinks it’s the funniest fucking thing ever. Ivy would be so disappointed in me.
So I go out and get tanked again.
* * *
First Semester of Sophomore Year
at Butler University
Samantha and I are leaving the student union, coffees in hand, and we’re chatting about our geology professor. It’s an elective we both have, and though we’re in different sections, the material and assignments are the same.
I met Samantha over the summer, but we’ve only been dating for about a month. After my parents threatened me and forced me to pull my head out of my ass, I took a summer semester to make up the credits I lost when I was being a drunken dick bag. If they hadn’t stepped in, I most definitely would have failed out. Almost did.
As Samantha and I head down the steps toward the quad, a blonde girl with a messenger tote and Chucks catches my eye, and I about trip over myself. Without thinking, I walk toward the stranger.
It can’t be.
It probably isn’t.
But I need to know, just in case.
She’s standing with one foot crossed over the other while reading a flier taped to a cement light post. I assess her as I walk. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a yellow sundress and black Chucks. A girl with black hair with pink streaks standing next to her says something to make her laugh, and when she turns to look at her friend, I catch a glimpse of a dimple.
When I’m standing about five feet behind her, I hear her voice, and it knocks the breath right out of my lungs. I reach up and clutch my chest, trying to rub away the ache. I might be having a heart attack.
“Ivy?” I don’t know how I manage anything more than a whisper.
She tenses, and then slowly turns to face me. Her familiar blue eyes are cautious, a tentative smile plays on her full, pink lips. I want her to smile bigger. I crave another sighting of that dimple. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until right now.
“Kelley,” she says back.
And for the first time in fifteen months, I breathe.
19
An hour after Kelley drops me off, Mom brings home burgers from the diner and we fill her in on the meeting we had with that jerkface Kyle, his parents, and Principal Grey. She apologized repeatedly for not being there; she was swamped at the diner and never even got the phone call.
She’s so, so, so sorry, and I’m just...tired.
I don’t know how I’m going to go away for law school and still be here for Jacob. I’m feeling guilty for wanting to leave, but I’m certain if I don’t do it now, I never will. And aren’t I too young to feel this exhausted?
“Ivy,” Mom calls from the kitchen after Jacob has gone to bed. “Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah?” I lean against the fridge and watch as she washes the dishes. She still hasn’t changed out of her diner uniform. She shuts off the tap and turns to me.
“I wanted to thank you for bein’ there today when I couldn’t.”
“It’s not a problem,” I brush off. It’s not a problem. It’s never been. And it wouldn’t matter if it was.
“It is a problem. You’ve shouldered too much here for too long, and I’ve leaned on you more than a mama should.”
“Mom, it’s okay. You did what you had to do.”
She sighs.
“I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become, Ivy Jean. So proud of the woman you’re growin’ into. You’re so strong. So smart. So much better than I was at your age.”
“Mom, no. I am who I am because of you. You’re the strongest woman I know. I’m where I am today because of your example, because of how you raised me.”
Mom wipes away a tear. My mom never cries. We’re silent for a moment, and then she wipes her hands on her apron and stands up straighter.
“Well,” she begins. “I want you to know that I’m gonna be home more with Jacob, so you won’t have to worry. The fight today...well, let’s just say it’s got me rethinkin’ some priorities. There’s a girl at the diner. I’m gonna promote her, and there’s also somethin’ I want to run by you. Somethin’ I think will help, but I want your opinion.” She eyes me seriously, so I nod. Oh boy.
“Okay, Mom. Let’s hear it.”
After talking with Mom, debating our options, and making a few pros/cons lists, I’m feeling optimistic. Cautiously optimistic.
Mom also reassured me that Bug’s actually been in a pretty good mood the last few weeks, and my absence really wasn’t detrimental to his well-being. He said as much, but I was so worked up after that meeting, full of guilt and frustration, that I couldn’t tell if he was placating me or not.
When Mom heads to her room for the night, I’m left lying on my old childhood twin bed doing my best not to think about Kelley.
Doing my best and still failing.
I’m not sure if I made the right call. I’m not sure about anything with him. I hate not being sure, and this throbbing pain in my chest hasn’t eased since he drove away this afternoon.
Ugh.
The fact is, I was spending so much time with him that my focus in other areas was shifting. I was thinking about him at work. I was leaving study hours early to be with him. I didn’t talk to Bug for over a week and barely noticed.
I never lose that much time.
Today in that meeting for Jacob, I realized how much I wanted Kelley there with me, and it was terrifying. I wanted to lean on him. Depend on him. Rely on him. I was start
ing to need him, and that’s not okay.
This thing with Kelley? It’s not practical. Relationships fail. They aren’t dependable. I can’t put so much focus and energy into something that’s destined to end. The sadness and loss I’m feeling right now is nothing compared to how badly it will hurt if I let this thing between us progress. If we go any further, when it ends, it will crush me.
I don’t know where I’m going for law school, and he wants to stay teaching around here. Then there’s what happened the other night when we tried to have sex...
I need to stop thinking about this because it’s confusing me and making me emotional, and I can’t afford to be emotional right now.
Heck, I can’t even focus on my LSAT prep and the exam is tomorrow. Instead of doing one last practice test, I’ve made three different lists of all the reasons why I can’t be with Kelley.
And all the ways in which we’ve ruined our friendship.
Again.
I’m writing furiously when a text buzzes through on my phone.
Kelley: Come outside
He’s outside? I stand up and look out my window, but I don’t see anything.
Kelley: I know you’re up. Your light is on. I’m at your front door. Come down here. We need to talk.
Frick. Maybe he’ll think I fell asleep with the lights on? I can’t handle this right now. I’m not ready for this yet.
Kelley: My messages say read Ives. I know you’re awake. You never sleep with the lights on.
Kelley: Please come downstairs. Give me twenty minutes.
I take a deep breath. I can do this. It’s Kelley, and I have to see him tomorrow anyway. I can’t avoid it forever.
Me: Ok.