“No, I can’t Tristan,” I turn to him.
This is not what he had expected to hear. I see the fire and hope in his eyes disappear. Disappointment sets in.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“Tristan, this was nice. Really nice.”
“Nice? Are you crazy? This was amazing.”
“Okay, yes, it was.” I give him that. “But I don’t think it’s right for us to get back together. Not now.”
“Not now?” he asks. I see that I’ve given him hope. That’s not what I meant to do.
“Not ever,” I say definitively.
“Why?” Tristan asks. He puts his arms around me, but I push him away.
I don’t know why. It doesn’t feel right. I try to figure out why.
“You’re in a tough spot now, Tristan. I get it. And I’ll be there for you as a friend. A really really good friend. But you just want to get together because you’re lonely or anxious about the future. You don’t have to be, I’m here for you. But I can’t be your girlfriend again just because you’re going through a tough time.”
Disappointed, he walks away. But stops at the door.
“I don’t want to be with you because of the money. It has nothing to do with that. You asked me why I came to the cabin. It was because I was worried about you with Simon, but that wasn’t all of it. And I didn’t come up because Tea and I broke up. I came to see you because I missed you. And I want you back. I made a mistake, Alice.”
I nod. Take a breath. But I don’t go to him.
“Alice, I was a real jerk. I shouldn’t have ever broken up with you. There was nothing wrong with us. I just did it because I didn’t think that we should be so serious in college. I thought we were too happy. Like it couldn’t possibly last because we were too happy. I was so stupid, Alice. Childish. I wanted to date other people. But when it came right to it, I couldn’t. Not really.”
“Thank you,” I say after a while. “I understand now.”
I am grateful for the explanation. I didn’t know it, but I’ve waited for the truth about why we broke up for a long time. And now, it was out there. I had closure.
He’s waiting for me to come to him. To forgive him and say that I love him and that everything’s going to be okay. His arms are to his sides. He’s shown me all of his cards. I know that he’s telling the truth. But something’s holding me back.
“I love you, Alice,” he says. It’s his last attempt.
“I love you too,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry. But I just can’t.”
Tears cloud my eyes. One large one breaks free and rolls down my cheek. My throat aches from sorrow.
47
It’s finals week. Where did the time go? Halloween and Thanksgiving were a blur. I went home for Thanksgiving, but I hardly remember any of it. Thankfully, my finals are spread out and aren’t stacked up like Dylan’s and Tristan’s. I don’t have any double final days and have at least a day to study for the next one. It could be worse, of course. But it could also be better. I look at Juliet. She’s practicing breathing for her breathing class. I wish I had a breathing test instead of three final papers.
I haven’t talked to Tristan for a couple days except for a brief “hello, how are you?” The more time goes by, the stronger I feel that my decision is the right one. I can’t even begin to express how nice it was to be with him again. But life isn’t just about what happens in bed. It’s more than that. And despite what he says, I’m not entirely sure this isn’t some sort of freaking out moment for him. Maybe he took the break up with Tea harder than he’d thought. Maybe he’s upset about losing all that money. Either way, he’s not in the right state of mind to make a decision as big as this one. I’m sure he’s just confused. I’m pretty sure. But then that voice in the back of my head stirs up. I don’t want to hear it. But it’s there. What if he’s right? What if he just wants to be with me? And all those other things just happened to happen at the same time?
American Lit is my first final of the year. Many people finish early, but I write practically every thought I have in the little blue notebook. I write until my hand cramps, un-cramps, and cramps again. I go through two notebooks, but finally get every last bit of knowledge that I have about The Invisible Man, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Catcher in the Rye onto paper. Tea and I are the last people to finish. I follow her out of the classroom. She looks tired and worn out. And it’s the first day of finals! I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror. But I know that she looks a lot better than I do. She’s at least wearing jeans and a proper sweater. Whilst I’m dressed in the same sweats that I’ve slept in.
“How do you think that went?” I ask.
“As best as it could’ve.” She gives me a weak smile.
“Yeah, I feel the same way,” I commiserate with her.
“Hey, listen, I heard about you and Tristan. Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” She nods. “He just wasn’t all there. I don’t think we were ever right for each other.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. I’m trying to find out what happened. As if more details are going to give me a better understanding about my own decision.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “He never really wanted to be with me. He said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I should’ve listened to him. He was telling the truth. I just couldn’t see it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s the only thing I can say.
“It’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. You know what’s funny? After it was over, after I broke up with him, I thought I would feel terrible. But I didn’t. I felt relieved. So I guess that was the right decision.”
“Yeah, seems like it.”
We say our goodbyes. Give each other a warm hug.
“Have a wonderful Christmas,” she says.
“You too,” I say. “And don’t forget to let me read your book when you’re done. I know it’s going to be amazing.”
“You’ll be the first.” Tea smiles.
When I get back to my room, all I want to do is plop down on the bed and listen to an unhealthy amount of Adele. Someone on our floor is blasting Christmas music, and though I hate to admit it, it puts me in the holiday spirit. I only have two more finals. Then I’m done. First semester of college finished. I can’t wait to be free!
I grab a can of soda out of the refrigerator before heading to my room. I’m about to walk in when something on the dry erase board outside on our door catches my attention.
Can we erase everything and start all over, again? – Tristan
I read the words carefully, to make sure that I’m not dreaming.
I feel him come out of his room, stop right behind me.
“Tristan, what are you doing?” I ask. “I thought we’d gone over this.”
“I know we did. But the thing is that I don’t think you believe me. I think you think that I want you back because of Tea or losing all that money. But I don’t. I want you back because I’m an idiot. I just realized that I never really stopped loving you. And I never will.”
I clutch my bag. He doesn’t shift his weight from one foot to another, the way he usually does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. Instead, Tristan stands up straight, his eyes fixed on mine. At this moment, not even an earthquake can break him away from me.
“I love you too, Tristan.”
“So, what is it? Do you not believe me?”
“No, I do believe you.”
“So, why can’t we be together?” he asks.
“Because I’m afraid.” I take a deep breath. “I’m afraid of going through all this again, Tristan. Getting over you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And, honestly, I don’t think I can do it again. I’m sorry.”
I go into my room and close the door. I want to be with him more than anything. I want him to take me into his arms, tell me that everything’s going to be okay. I want to believe him. But I now know that this requires a big leap of faith. The kind of leap of faith that I’m not sure I’m capab
le of. Not now. And there’s something else. There’s a sneaking suspicion in the back of mind that this burning desire to be with me might blow over after finals. I hope I’m wrong. But I just can’t know. Either way, I can’t think about this anymore. I have two more finals to worry about.
48
Two sleepless days later, I’m finally done with the semester. When I come back home, I find Juliet tossing all of her notebooks and papers from the semester into the trash.
“You’re getting rid of everything already?” I ask.
“ASAP. I’m done!”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I say. I’ve never been one to throw away all of my notebooks, not even in high school where this was practically the ritual every June.
“What if you need to review something later on?” I ask.
“And why would I need to do that?” she asks. “Finals are over!”
I don’t have a good answer. I want my academic life from this semester out of sight as well, but I opt to drop all the papers into the bottom drawer of my desk.
“We’re all going out later to get drunk,” she says. “You in?”
“Of course,” I say. “My flight home isn’t until later tonight.”
“Awesome. I’m going home tomorrow. I think that’s when Dylan’s leaving too. Not sure about Tristan.”
I nod. “Oh hey, so how are things with you and Dylan?”
“They’re good, actually.” She smiles. “It was just a fling. But being friends is best.”
“So, is he back together with Peyton?”
“Oh, I have no idea,” she laughs. “I thought he was, but then he said that he wasn’t. Those two are addicted to each other. He told me that they’ve broken up and got back together like 10 tens! So much drama.”
“I never thought I’d hear that from you,” I laugh.
“Oh, I like drama. On stage. On screen. A little bit in my life. But his level of drama is out of control. No, not for me.”
We crack up laughing. As different as Juliet and I are, I know that I’m going to miss her over break.
“So you never told me, what are you doing for next semester?”
“What do you mean?”
“Weren’t you planning on moving out? Not living with your ex again?” she asks.
“Oh, that. No, I’m planning on staying. We’re in a good place now,” I say. “Honestly, I completely forgot to even file the paperwork.”
“Well, that’s good. For me, at least.” Juliet smiles. “’Cause I kinda like you as a roommate.”
“Oh really? Well, I kinda like you as a roommate, too.”
Later that afternoon, while we wait for Dylan to come back from his last final, I decide to pack. As I pull the suitcases out of the closet, all the clothes from the top shelf fall on me.
“Great. Just great,” I mutter and start sifting through them.
I need some warm clothes, but not that many. Definitely don’t need the really warm sweaters or the snow boots. Unless, of course, I go skiing, which is a possibility. Shit. I’m going to have to lug all of this crap back home. I start tossing all of my favorite clothes into the bag. I should be rolling them like my dad showed me, to maximize room, but I’m not really in the mood to organize. What will fit will fit and that’s it. I have more clothes at home, clothes that I didn’t wear for four months. Might be a nice change.
As I rummage through the closet, I work up quite a sweat. I decide to open the window to let in some fresh air. I don’t see the box of thank you cards on the windowsill and they go flying out.
“Shit! Oh my God!” I scream. But it’s too late. They are already half way down the building. Since they weren’t thank you cards that I ever planned on mailing out, I didn’t bother with the envelopes. They open up mid-flight and take on air. Most take their time and fall at a leisurely pace, letting the wind take them on an adventure.
“What’s wrong?” I hear someone yell back up to me. It’s Tristan. He’s standing at the bottom of the building.
“My cards!” I scream. “They’re going everywhere!”
“I’ll get them!” he yells.
“I’ll be right down!” I yell back, pulling on my Uggs and grabbing my coat.
With just my luck, the elevator stops at practically every single floor. People are done with finals. They’re happily chatting away. On two occasions, I have to tell them that I’m in a hurry as they hold the elevator open saying their goodbyes. I should’ve taken the stairs, but it’s too late now. I tap my foot anxiously. My cards are probably all over Manhattan now. Ten minutes later, I finally get onto Broadway. Tristan stands at the corner with a thick stack of cards, reading one. I look around the street. Don’t see a single one.
“Hey, that’s private!” I say loudly, so that he could hear me over the sound of afternoon traffic. An ambulance rushes by, deafening me to the point where I can’t even hear my own thoughts.
Tristan doesn’t look up. It’s like he can’t hear me.
“That’s private,” I say, walking up to him. He looks up.
“It’s addressed to me,” he says.
From the cover, I can tell that he’s reading the last card I wrote. Why did it have to be that one? I wish more than anything that he were reading any other card.
“It’s still private. I didn’t mean for you to read it. I was never going to send it.”
“Dear Tristan.” He ignores me and starts reading. I try to get the card out of his hand, but he lifts it above his head, continues to read out loud. “Dear Tristan, I’m just writing to say thank you. Thank you for coming back into my life as a friend. Thank you for saying all those things you said. I’ve been waiting for you to say them for a very long time. I love you too. And I’m going to love you for as long as I live. You were the best first boyfriend that a girl could dream of. I don’t think I’m ever going to be ready to say goodbye. But that’s what I’m doing now. I know you said that you want me back. But I’m afraid. Afraid of going through all of this again. The thing is, Tristan, I need a sign. I need a sign that getting back together is the right thing to do. And until then, I’m going to say thank you and good-bye. Love, Alice.”
“That was private,” I say.
“I know,” Tristan says.
He hands me the stack of thank you cards and walks away. Slowly, the rest of the world comes into focus. Cars are honking. An ambulance is blaring. People are darting around me. The whole world that was nothing but background noise a minute ago, floods in. There’s no room in it for me.
I ride the elevator back to the dorm completely numb. Doors open and close. People get in and out. They laugh and embrace and say goodbye. I see everything happening, but I don’t understand any of it. They look like two-dimensional people. Characters. I wonder if they’re real. And how anyone would know for sure.
49
Juliet, Dylan, and I go out for drinks with a few other people from our floor. Apparently, Tristan texted Dylan and said that he’ll be by later. I don’t want to go, but I don’t want to explain why I’m not going either.
The numbness finally starts to wear off after my second martini. And just at that precise moment, Tristan reappears. I see him standing in the doorway of the crowded bar full of celebrating college students. He’s looking for someone. I turn to Juliet, trying to hide in my seat.
“Tristan’s here!” Juliet and Dylan say almost simultaneously. Everyone cheers.
“Come join us, man,” Dylan says. “You’re about two drinks behind.”
“Hey everyone,” he smiles. “But I’m actually here to steal Alice away for a few minutes.”
“No!” everyone replies jokingly. “Boo!”
“Alice.” He comes closer to me, touching my back lightly. “Can I talk to you?”
I shake my head. Every time we’ve talked, things got worse and worse. Now, I’m not sure that our frail friendship will survive another one of our talks.
“Please, I have to talk to you,” he whispers.
I
sigh, take a sip of my martini, and eat an olive.
“You okay?” Juliet mouths to me silently. I shrug and follow Tristan out of the bar.
“Tristan, I want to apologize to you,” I say, wrapping my scarf around my neck and zipping my coat. The air smells fresh and new, the cold’s nipping at my nose. Every tree on the street is lit up in yellow lights. The city is screaming that Christmas is just around the corner.
“I do, too,” he says. “But before we do any of that, I want to show you something. Will you come with me?”
Begrudgingly, I agree.
We walk back to our dorm, ride the elevator all the way to the top. I’ve never been this high before. He opens a small passageway with stairs leading even higher.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask.
“The roof.”
“I didn’t even know this place existed. Or that we could go here,” I say.
“We can’t. Not really. But I know one of the janitors and he let me up here before.”
We walk out onto the roof.
“What do you do up here?” I ask.
“Think, mostly. It’s a nice place for that. Quiet. Peaceful,” he says.
Darkness falls with a vengeance in New York, quickly and without apologies. It doesn’t dilly-dally. One minute it’s daytime and the next it’s nighttime and the world is lit up by lights.
“It looks like Christmas all the time here doesn’t it?” Tristan asks.
“What do you mean?”
“The lights. There are so many lights here. It’s like it’s Christmas all the time.”
I’ve never thought of it that way before. But he’s right. Every night, when the lights come on, the city seems to celebrate. Rejoice.
“Alice, I brought you up here because I wanted to show you something.”
He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. I wait.
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