by Amanda Cowen
“No. No. We fight all the time,” I look up slightly upon hearing her muffled laughter. “Maisie. This is not funny.”
“I beg to differ. Are you that oblivious? Even you have to see how naïve you sound. I mean, of course Ryan is happy you got your dream internship. He’s been rooting for you since freshman year to become this big-time animation artist. But that was before he realized he has feelings for you. Can’t you see he’s terrified of losing you? You’re up and leaving him in three weeks just when he thought you two could finally have something real this time. In his mind, I’m guessing he feels you dumped him when you chose to leave for an internship that can wait. You never even gave either of you the opportunity to have a conversation about where you stand. He’s right, Ella. You are impulsive and you never think of consequences, which is exactly how you ended up in this situation with Ryan,” she says, pausing for a second and continuing. “Listen, you two are meant to be together, which is exactly why I told him about your dad’s wedding. And he dropped everything, including Alodie, and booked the next flight to Oregon so he could be with you. People who love each other fight sometimes. And whether you want to accept it or not, you and Ryan shouldn’t be just friends. You should be together. You need to kiss and make up and somehow work through this.”
I rub my face with my hands and sigh. “Please stop making sense. My life is confusing enough right now without you making it worse.”
“Come on, just admit you love him. You both fucked up and you need to accept that you should call him to talk things out. Don’t you want to be with him?”
Of course, I want to be with him. I want him like my next breath, but I’m also a realist. Our lives are going in two different directions. Besides, I can’t call Disney and ask to push back my start date to the original one, especially not after I practically begged Ms. Bright to let me start as soon as humanly possible. The last thing I want is her to question my work ethic, or worse, question her decision to hire me.
Despite what Maisie thinks - that life is some ridiculous romance novel – it isn’t. Life goes on, feelings get hurt, and just because two people are meant to be together doesn’t mean they always end up together.
I look up at her. “The timing isn’t right. It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late, Ella.”
“Yes, it is,” I retort. “Ryan couldn’t handle being faithful to Alodie for an entire summer while he was in Australia. How the hell is he supposed to handle three solid years apart from me while he attends Yale law school? I’ve had zero serious boyfriends. And like you said, I have no idea how to be in a real relationship. We’ve had sex more times than actual dates. The probability of us working through this before I leave is slim to none. In fact, it’s probably best if I just keep my distance from him, and accept that things will never be the same between us. It’s over. We're nothing, just like he said.”
Maisie studies me with a frown. “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t so jaded.”
“I am not.”
“You are so,” she stands up. “And I know your parents’ divorce has everything to do with your cynical outlook on love. But you aren’t your parents. You can be with someone who isn’t going to hurt and leave you. You deserve to be loved, and you deserve someone like Ryan.”
I look at her with wide eyes, feeling goosebumps rise along my skin. I’m not sure whether I want to laugh or crawl into a hole forever. I hate how Maisie can see through my cracks. I struggle to find my voice. “You’re romanticizing again,” I tell her and stand up as well. “Ryan and I are nothing. And you need to accept that we aren’t your little matchmaking project anymore.” I don’t mean to sound flippant, but I do.
She blinks away, looking torn. I stand up and walk into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.
The next two weeks pass by the same way. Ryan hasn’t called or texted me once. He even visited Rosie in Sacramento without asking me to tag along. How do I know this? Because Maisie told me. She finds it necessary to tell me everything little thing Ryan is up to these days, even though I’ve asked her not to. I also know he refuses to talk to Maisie about what happened between us in Oregon.
Jayce and Kale are now fully aware Ryan and I slept together. Maisie also told me he is indeed moving to Sacramento for the summer. He’s grown a stringy beard, binge-watched two entire Netflix series, and last weekend he was awarded a trophy for lacrosse at the university’s year-end sports banquet. And apparently, he ate an entire box of pizza alone in his bedroom last night instead of going to the club with Kale.
I, on the other hand, signed my contract with Disney and submitted all the paperwork to Ms. Bright’s assistant. They provided me with an early start date, just as I requested. I will leave on an early Sunday-morning flight for Los Angeles, just a day after our graduation ceremony. I’ve already secured a place to live: a tiny apartment a few blocks west of the studio. I even paid a moving service to pack up and haul my belongings.
My mom is flying down to Los Angeles to help me get settled, and she will stay with me for an entire week. She’s doing really well these days, and I’m really looking forward to spending some quality time with her.
Maisie and I are walking back to our apartment from a shopping trip, carrying bags full of makeup, groceries, and other random items. I needed to grab a few more things before I started packing. The pressure of having my entire life packed up and ready before Saturday is really starting to stress me out. The last thing I want is to be frantic and disorganized when the moving van shows up.
We turn down the street where Jayce, Ryan and Kale’s apartment is. I spot Liam in front of their building, tossing his belongings into the back of a beat-up Volkswagen.
“Hey, stranger!” Liam nods in my direction and slams his trunk shut. “Maisie, good to see you too,” he smiles over at her.
“Hey, Liam,” Maisie says, shifting the weight of the shopping bags in her arms. “What’s going on?” She looks at a few cardboard boxes beside the tire of his car.
“Yeah, I’m moving out today.” He answers. “I, ah - met someone.”
“Who?” Maisie asks, curious.
“Do you remember Tiffany Collins from Newport Beach?”
We both nod in unison.
“We’ve, ah, well… we’ve kept in touch.”
Although I find this news both shocking and a little irritating because I can’t stand Tiffany, I also can’t help but think they might actually be good a match. They are both free-spirited, and enjoy the outdoors. She’s over-the-top flirty, and Liam enjoys someone who is willing to give him constant attention. Instead of saying something, I just wait patiently for him to tell us more.
“We really hit it off our last night in Newport,” he continues. “You know the time we played beach volleyball, and you and Ryan stayed back at the beach house?” He raises one of his eyebrows and looks at me.
Of course, that’s a night I’ll never forget. I swallow hard, his knowing smile not lost on me.
“One thing led to another, and I went back to her hotel room with Kale. We’ve been talking ever since. I’ve been driving down to LA over the past few months to see her. But when the distance just wasn’t working anymore, I got a new bartending job in LA, and now we are moving in together.” He smiles the biggest, happiest smile I have ever seen on a man admitting he’s about to move in with his girlfriend, and I feel so happy for him.
“And I guess I have you to thank for everything, Ella,” he adds, his voice sincere. “If you hadn’t ended things between us, I wouldn’t have given Tiffany a chance.”
I feel a little shaken by how honest he’s being. I’d been nothing but dishonest with Liam, sneaking around with Ryan. My mind is muddled with memories of the past four years with Ryan. All the good times are creeping up on me, especially the moment I knew I loved him. Suddenly my chest hurts, and the realization of how soon I’m leaving causes panic to rise in my throat.
“Wow, I can’t believe this,” Maisie gushes. “Jayce never to
ld me you were dating Tiffany.”
Liam winces. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping it hush-hush. She was worried about what Ryan would think, you know, because they dated before.”
My temper flares something fierce when he says this. The thought of Ryan feeling any sort of jealousy over Tiffany makes my stomach turn.
“But you know guys. They never asked who she was, and I never told them,” he adds.
That moment at Royal Shots when Ryan accused me of seeing Liam suddenly makes sense. He thought Liam was sneaking around with me, never once suspecting Tiffany.
“Ella, I heard you got that Disney internship.” He pulls open his car’s passenger-side door and shoves a few boxes inside.
I nod. “Yeah, I leave Sunday morning.”
“Congratulations,” he smiles. “Way to go. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” I say hesitantly. “We should probably get going, though. These bags are getting heavy.” I glance over at Maisie and she nods in agreement. “Good luck with everything. Your new job and Tiffany and all that.”
“Thanks, Ella.” He reaches forward and gives me a quick hug.
“Goodbye, Liam,” I say, pulling away. “Safe travels.”
“Bye,” he says, pulling open the driver’s side door and getting in the car. “Don't be a stranger. Keep in touch.” He gives a final wave, then disappears down the road.
Our graduation ceremony comes and goes. The keynote speaker delivers an inspirational speech, hats are thrown in the air, parents cry, and diplomas are handed out. Because I graduated from the graphic-design program, my ceremony was earlier in the day than my friends’, including Ryan.
Maisie, Jayce, Kale and Ryan are going to a graduation party a few blocks west of campus. Maisie invited me, but I declined the invitation, not because things are still awkward between me and Ryan - which they most definitely are - but because my flight leaves early tomorrow morning. I’m not even close to done packing, leaving me zero time to party.
I’ve already said my final goodbyes to Maisie, Jayce and Kale, even though they are unnecessary. Jayce and Maisie are staying in Newport Beach for the summer, which is super close to Los Angeles. I plan on seeing them all summer long. Come September, they’ll both be back in San Francisco and at their new jobs. They will still be close enough that we can drive the distance or hop on a quick flight. Kale also secured an internship in the Los Angeles area, and like me, he’s hoping that it turns into full-time employment. We only live a few blocks away from each other, and will obviously keep in touch.
Ryan, on the other hand, is the only person in our group who’s moving across the country, and he’s the only person I won’t give a final goodbye to.
Why am I thinking about him again? I stuff another pair of yoga pants into a box. Nothing in my life has changed since Oregon. Ryan and I are no longer friends or sleeping together, and that’s just how it goes. We both made the decision to be nothing to each other, so that’s exactly what we are. The fact that I am leaving tomorrow and he’s out partying the night away shouldn’t throw me off so dramatically.
A few hours later, I finally finish packing my entire wardrobe into twenty big cardboard boxes, crawl into bed, and turn off the lights.
I wake to the sound of someone fumbling with the lock on the front door. I glance at my clock; it’s three o’clock in the morning. I immediately wonder if Maisie decided to come back instead of sleeping at Jayce’s. The lights are all out, so I move quickly through the living room, flicking on the light in the hallway.
When I tiptoe and peer through the peephole, I see him. Ryan’s bent over, with one hand braced on the wall. His dress shirt is unbuttoned, his tie hangs loosely around his neck, and his other hand has a key in it. I yank the door open; its squeaking hinges make him freeze, and his head snaps up.
His eyes meet mine and flash with uncertainty. He lets his hand fall away from the door, and he stands up straight.
My first instinct is to reach out and touch the slight stubble on his jaw, to tell him I’ve been a mess without him. Our time apart hasn’t lessened his hold over me at all. If anything, it’s made it stronger. More than anything, I wanted to spend my last night in San Francisco with him. I wanted him to be the one driving me to the airport tomorrow morning. I wanted him to be my everything.
With a sigh, I finally look up at him.
“Ryan, what are you doing here?.”
With the light coming through the hallway, I can see that his eyes are glossed over, and his feet are unsteady. “Liam left,” he simply slurs.
“What?” I ask, confused. “Jesus, Ryan. Are you drunk?’
“Apparently, he’s moving to LA too,” he says, his gaze on my lips.
The accusatory tone in his voice mixed with the slur from too many alcoholic drinks brings my irritation level to an all-time high. “What do you want?” I ask, sounding flippant.
“I saw you two talking in front of our house yesterday,” he exhales slowly through his nose. “Are you two back together? Is he moving to LA to be with you?”
I tell myself to calm down. He’s drunk, and obviously not thinking straight. “No, Ryan. He’s moving to LA to be with Tiffany Collins.” When he stares at me blankly, I add, “You know, the girl he’s been secretly dating.”
He stares at me for a few seconds. “What? He’s moving for Tiff?”
“Yeah. That’s what we were talking about. God, you are so ridiculous, and completely drunk.” I tell him. “Thanks for waking me up for nothing. I really don't have time for this. I need to get back to bed.” I take a step backward and slowly close the door on his face, but his hand pushes against it.
“No, Ella. We need to talk.”
I look up at him, flabbergasted. “You’ve had since Oregon to talk to me.”
He lowers his head. My heart is beating so hard, and I’m so nervous because when he looks up at me, I can see the defeat in his eyes.
“I'm in love with you,” he whispers.
This admission uncoils something that has grown tight and tense in my gut. I feel like I’ve melted.
“What?” I finally exhale.
“I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear,” he says, taking a step closer. “But I needed you to hear it.”
Seeing him like this—anxious, and uncertain of my response—makes it hard for me to keep quiet. I’m panicking inside, and I can tell he is too.
“Probably not good timing, I know that. You are leaving, and I’m leaving—”
“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling the heat rise in my chest. Why is he doing this now, and just hours before my flight? Of course, I love him too, but saying it won’t change anything. It’s too late.
“I just needed you to know,” he says, taking another step toward me.
I shake my head. “This is so unfair of you.”
“Unfair of me?” His expression is unreadable in the shadows, but it isn’t so dark that I can’t see how his shoulders seem too heavy for his frame, or how drunk he looks. “I’m here, Ella. I’m at your door, pouring my heart out to you, and somehow I’m the one being unfair?”
“Ryan, you have no idea—”
He holds up his hand to stop me. “Don't.”
“—what your friendship has meant to me these past four years.”
He shakes his head and runs both hands down his face. “Come on. I want to be more than that, and I know you do, too.”
“I do.” I don’t resist when he reaches for me, and slides his hand up my side. “But I’m leaving four hours from now. You’re drunk. And you really need to stop making this so damn hard. You’re just panicking because things are changing. If you really wanted this, you would have talked to me when you were sober weeks ago. I’m sorry, I really can’t do this,” I say, feeling like I’m about to cry.
“What can’t you do?” he growls, his breath warm on my skin, his fingers slipping easily around the back of my neck before his lips linger over mine. “I can’t believe you were going to leave without
even saying goodbye to me. How can you leave without giving us a chance?”
I’m shaking in his arms with how much I want him. His fingertips feel like heaven; his whiskey breath is hot on my neck. I take a sharp breath and step back, freeing myself from the hold he has over me. I can’t let him change my mind. The second he touches me, I start thinking of missing my flight and giving up on my dreams. It scares the shit out of me.
I don’t want to, but I need to push him away.
“I can't even begin to explain to you how much I wanted to give us a chance, how much I care about you. The thought of not seeing you every day makes me not want to go, okay? I couldn’t even fathom saying goodbye to you. Leaving you behind is one of the hardest things I ever have to do.” I am breathing heavily as the tears finally stream down my cheeks. “Please, Ryan. You need to leave.”
"Ella, I love you,” he pleads. The expression on his face is part longing and part something that looks more like anxiety. At the border, awareness trickles in. “I completely fucking love you.”
I shake my head. “Ryan, please. Stop. This is just drunk talk.”
“No, it’s not,” he insists.
“You’re drunk—”
“Ella, please.” His voice is so low, it drips over me like warm honey. “Cancel your flight. Come with me to Sacramento. Be with me.”
I shake my head no, unable to find words. I am both physically and emotionally exhausted. He closes his eyes and my heart splinters at the thought of not seeing him again. Why did he have to show up here? I can’t give up on everything I’ve worked so hard for just to take a chance on love, even if that person is Ryan.
I want to pull him into my arms, and tell him I love him, too. God, I want to be with him so bad, but not like this.
“If I don’t take this internship, I might end up resenting you, and I'm afraid that—” I start, but my voice peters off when more tears tumble down my cheeks.
“Resent me?” he asks, confused.
I look up into his dark brown eyes. “That this would not be enough for either of us. I think we both need to go our separate ways and do what we had always planned, without each other. If we don’t, I'm afraid that in the long run, I won’t be enough for you.”