“No, I’m sorry.” I try to walk past him, but he gently places his hand on my arm; there’s no force in the move, but he clearly wants me to remember. “We met at Lindsey’s party, back in December. I’m Tyler. Tyler Cole. You really don’t remember me? We, umm …” As his words trail off, my stomach drops to the floor.
It’s him.
Maddy sees the look of fear and sickness -that passes across my face. “Are you okay, Melanie? Do you want to get out of here?” She loops her arm through mine so that we’re locked at the elbow.
I can’t really get any words out of my mouth, but I know that I need to get away from here. I want to run. I need to move my feet, but they’re super-glued to the floor. As my stomach returns to where it belongs and my brain starts to function again, my desire to run fades. Swiftly, I realize that I do want to talk with him. I have to know exactly what happened that night. I feel like it’s the only way I’ll ever be able to move past it.
Pulling my arm from hers, I finally get my mouth to work. “I’m good; I promise. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She just nods and waddles out to a bench that is set up in between two kiosks.
“Can I get you anything?” Tyler asks as he walks me over to the table that Maddy and I just vacated.
I shake my head and opt for bluntness. “That night fucked-up my life pretty good, you know.” Tyler recoils from my words and his brows knit together. My anger, though outwardly directed at him, is inwardly focused on my own stupidity and shame.
A puzzled and hurt look washes across his face before he says anything. “Okay,” he draws out the word, clearly shocked by my anger. “I don’t really know how, though.” He folds his arms across his broad chest and leans back in his chair.
The nothingness of the last six weeks flashes before me and anger boils like lava in my veins. With a strangely even and calm voice, I manage to speak rather than yell. “You don’t know how sleeping with you when I had a boyfriend screwed things up for me?”
“Whoa! Wait a second,” he blurts out loudly enough to catch the attention of a few people standing on line. Realizing his little outburst, he leans across the table and adjusts his volume. “We did not sleep together.”
No one could mistake the look in Tyler’s eyes for anything but honesty and sincerity.
“What did you just say?” I demand, instantly needing him to clarify his statement.
His eyes scan my face, searching for any sign of me playing around with him. When all he finds is uncertainty, he takes a deep breath and rakes his hand through his platinum hair. “I said, ‘we did not sleep together’. We met at the party and started talking. We were actually having a great time, until you got some text or call. Then you got plastered.” Pieces of that night start to fall in place. He’s right. We were legitimately just talking until Courtney texted me. I still can’t place the rest of the night, so I silently prompt him to continue.
“Well, when you could no longer stand on your own, I helped you over to a couch and that’s when you started talking about your ex-boyfriend,” he admits sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say, ex?” I’m sure that my face is twisted in confusion.
“Yeah, at least that’s what you told me. Look, I wouldn’t have kissed you if you said you had a boyfriend. I’m not a douche like that.” Tyler holds his hands up in front of his chest in a sign of mock-surrender. His eyes convey his honesty yet again and I can’t not believe him.
Holy shit! I can’t believe this. Could this whole fuck-up with Bryan really have been avoided?
“So, you’re telling me the truth? We never …” I motion my hand between the two of us as if that somehow clarifies what I mean to say.
Tyler laughs sympathetically and shakes his head. “No, we didn’t. Believe me, I wanted to. We started fooling around and you were talking about finding another room, but you couldn’t even stand up. You clearly weren’t with it and like I said, I’m not a dick like that, so I wasn’t going to take advantage of you.”
I gasp and my hand flies to cover my mouth as I realize that he’s right, we didn’t sleep together.
“Do you believe me now?” he questions apprehensively.
Speaking through the fingers that are still covering my mouth, I nod and say, “Yes. Oh my God! I can’t believe that I thought …”
Recalling visions of that night, the line of events becomes crystal clear. I was drunk. He was kind. We made out. Maybe we fooled around a little. I passed out. And then he drove me home. That’s it. No sex. No cheating. Just me stumbling through my front door in the middle of the night and Reid helping me to bed before I woke anyone else up.
Holy mother of freaking shit!
Remembering one piece of information, I whisper, “But then how did I end up in a guy’s shirt and bra-less?” Honestly, when I woke up the next morning in someone else’s shirt and my bra was missing I just figured everything not nothing had happened.
“As I was driving you home, you pulled it off and threw it out the window.” He laughs, and adds, “You were actually trying to take off your shirt too, but I managed to stop you before you got to that point. All of the moving around must have made you sick because you threw up. I had my gym bag in the back and I helped you change out of your shirt.” Tyler smiles sympathetically at me and then quickly sobers when he realizes the sad look on my face. “Are you okay? You don’t look so hot.” Tyler’s friendly tone brings me back to the here-and-now.
Quickly recovering, I stammer, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Numbly standing from my chair, I vaguely catch a glimpse of Maddy through the window. “I just have to go now.”
Tyler stands and walks me to the door. As Maddy walks over to us, he seems like he wants to say something more, but honestly, at this point, I just need him to go. So I dismiss him before he can say anything else. “I guess I’ll see you around, Tyler.”
Awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets again, he says, “Um, yeah sure. See ya.” And then he turns and walks away.
Maddy wastes no time in her interrogating. “What the hell was that about? What happened?”
Because no amount of explaining will clear the air, and because one small word can answer both of her questions, I simply say, “Nothing.”
* * *
The rest of spring break goes by too quickly. And before I know it, I’m heading back to Ithaca for the final month of school. I was quick to take Mom and Evan up on their offer to drive me back. Evan came over a few nights during the week and it was a little weird having a man in the house, but seeing how happy Mom is when he’s around, it was pretty easy to get used to.
One night when Evan wasn’t over, Mom confessed that she talked to him about their ‘relationship’. She used air quotes that time. Much to her surprise, but not to mine, he felt the same way. She figured that since he had never been married, that he wouldn’t be interested in a serious relationship. He stunned her into silence when his only answer was that he hadn’t met the right woman yet.
About ten minutes into the drive, Evan turns down the radio and makes eye contact with me through the rear-view mirror. “So, Melanie, what’s your major? Your mom never mentioned it.”
I lean forward and rest my chin on Mom’s shoulder. Poking her in the arm, I take the opportunity to joke around with her. “Why’s that, Mom? Don’t want to talk to your boyfriend about your boring daughter?” I draw out the word boyfriend to emphasize their newly and officially defined relationship.
She calmly places her hand over mine which rests atop her shoulder and pats it gently. “No, my dear.” She quips with more than a little bit of sarcasm. “I didn’t tell him because you never told me.” She sticks her tongue out at me and smirks.
Her words sober me. I really have been out of touch. Having only recently decided on my major, it’s something of which I’m very proud.
Beaming from ear to ear, I share my plan. “I actually just declared my major at the beginning of the semester. I’m going to study early childhood education
with a focus on children with special needs. I start doing some field work next semester.”
Mom twists in her seat and her face is beautifully lit up with pride. “That is a wonderful choice, Melanie.”
“That’s great,” Evan chimes in. “What made you decide that?”
Neither one of them knows about Emmie, but she is the reason I made the decision. “I just figured helping kids who might not have all of the advantages as everyone else is a pretty good way to spend the next thirty years of my life.”
“Oh, that’s perfect for you, sweetie. You’re so great with kids.” Mom folds her hands across her lap, seemingly unable to contain her joy.
Evan places his hand atop Mom’s and he laces their fingers together. It’s a sweet gesture that makes my heart spill over with happiness. Meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror once again, Evan’s face is decorated with a proud look not unlike Mom’s.
“A buddy of mine from the fire department has a kid with Autism. She goes to a summer camp right near Ithaca every year. If you’d like, I can call him and get some information for you. Maybe they need a counselor or something like that.” Anyone else might mistake his offer as one meant to try and win me over, but I can see the honestly in his eyes reflected to me in the mirror. He’s being genuinely kind.
“Wow, yeah, that would be great, Evan.” I’ve really come to like Evan this past week based solely upon how he treats my mom, but seeing that he wants to do something nice for me as well, that he wants to develop a relationship with me too, makes me soften to him even more.
The rest of the drive is filled with laughter and fun conversation. And when we pull into the parking lot at my building, I’m happy to see Cammie, Lia and Peyton’s cars are already in the lot. Evan carries my bags for me, and Mom and I walk up to the suite before him. I lean into her side and whisper into her ear, “I like him.”
She smiles coyly in return and replies, “So do I.”
Hearing our girlish giggles, Evan clears his throat. “What are you two laughing at up there?”
We say, “Oh, nothing,” at the same time which only adds to our little giggling fit.
When we walk into the suite, the girls are busy doing a whole lot of nothing. Actually they’re lounging on the couch sipping cosmos, watching my Sex and the City DVDs. When they realize that Mom and Evan are with me, they get a little nervous. That nervousness evaporates immediately when Mom claps her hands excitedly and runs to the couch. “Oooo, is this the one when Mr. Big and Aiden have that pissing match and wrestle in the mud?”
Lia and Cammie move to the sides of the couch and make room for Mom to slide in between them. It doesn’t take long for the three of them to start arguing over who Carrie should be with. It’s a pointless conversation, really. Because after all of the hardships and trials, Carrie ends up right where she belongs – in the arms of her true love.
Cammie, Lia and Peyton are all over twenty-one, but even if they weren’t, Mom would never turn down a girl’s night like this. I’m not going to say that my mom condones underage drinking, but she’s not naive. I won’t lay out all of the times I’ve been drunk, but she knows this is not my first drink and she seems fine with it.
I call out from the kitchen, “Mom, can I make you a drink?”
She peers over the back of the couch and looks at Evan. “Is it okay if we stay for a while, Ev?”
Evan’s lips quirk up into a goofy smile. I doubt he likes the idea of spending a night with some cosmo-drinking, Sex and the City-watching twenty-somethings, but, I see it in his eyes – he’d do anything to make Mom happy.
“Of course we can stay. I’ll run out to Wegman’s and grab something to make for dinner while you girls enjoy your sex show, or whatever the hell it is.”
As I walk him to the door, I say, “Thank you” and plant a quick kiss to his cheek. I think the display of affection catches him off guard, but he smiles at me nonetheless.
After I hand Mom her drink, I make my way over to the large armchair where Peyton is sitting and she moves to the side, making room for me to wiggle in. She squeezes my knee and we share a knowing smile. I feel like this week has done me good and I think she sees that change in me.
When the episode wraps up, Lia situates herself so that she can make eye contact with all of us. “So, I’ve got good news.” We all eye her cautiously. “Good news” with Lia can mean that she picked up a cute pair of shoes on sale.
When she doesn’t say anything right away, Cammie holds her hands out in front of her. “Care to share it with us?” she prompts.
“I found us all an apartment for the summer and for next year! Off-campus housing, here we come!” Lia pumps her fists into the air, but my eyes immediately go to my mom. Can I really spend the whole summer away from her?
Mom looks directly at me and mouths the words, “It’s okay,” before saying aloud to the group, “That’s fantastic, Lia. You girls will have so much fun! Where is it?”
“It’s right behind the school on Coddington Road, right across the street from that cute little Italian place,” Lia answers Mom’s question and I know exactly what house she’s talking about because the Italian place that she’s talking about is Bella’s.
All of us chat excitedly about the possibilities that this new beginning will bring. While we’re making our second round of drinks, Evan comes in with some groceries and immediately begins cooking a quick meal of chicken fajitas and rice.
Before I even realize it, it’s time to say goodnight to Mom and Evan. I really loved having them here and I silently vow to make a much more concerted effort to both visit home and have them here more often.
I giggle as I watch Evan help a slightly stumbling Mom into his SUV. Thinking back over this week and how much it has healed my heart, I’m sad to see her go, but so happy to know that she’s got Evan now. Burying the last few weeks behind me, I’m suddenly looking forward to next few weeks and the hope that dangles out on the horizon.
13
By some miracle, and with a lot of Peyton’s help, I manage to pull my grades out of the gutter and I finish my first year of college with a 3.4 average. Not my best work, but all things considered, I’m more than pleased with the results. I’ve actually surprised myself in recent weeks with the whole “you don’t have to be perfect all the time” routine. A lot has changed since spring break, in fact. The most important change has been that I’ve actually grown to like myself much more than I used to. I’ve learned to forgive myself over what happened with Bryan. I still haven’t worked up the nerve to talk to him, though. I walked past the lab the other day. I didn’t expect him to be there so as I peered into the large window-lined wall of the lab as I walked past, I nearly tripped over my own two feet when his sad brown eyes met mine.
I wanted to go to him and ask him a million questions. How are things with his parents? How is Emmie doing? Is he excited about graduating? What are his plans for the summer?
Does he miss me?
But instead of doing that, I offered up a tight smile and a small wave. He nodded in return and then promptly busied himself with something on his computer. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he was just touching random keys to avoid looking at me.
I miss him a lot. But it’s not in that silly, pining, teenage girl way. I miss him in a way that actually hurts my bones. I didn’t realize it back when we were together, but the way he made me feel about myself was more than just special. And, no, I’m not talking about the physical stuff. He helped me see the value in myself that I should have seen a long time ago. He loved me not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And, yeah, I hate myself for having ruined that love, but it served as an epiphany of sorts. I was loved despite the flaws I thought I had, and in the process of growing that love, I found out that what I saw as some of my worst flaws were actually some of my greatest assets. I just wish I could have one more chance; I wish I could get a do over with him – with us.
I’ve thought about telling him what I learned f
rom Tyler, but I just haven’t been able to work up the courage. I’m not sure that it would make a difference anyway. I want to think it will change how he feels about me, like it will allow him to forgive me, but then his words about learning to love myself ring in my ears and I chicken out on talking to him again.
I’ve changed, but can I really say that I love everything about who I am?
Can anyone ever love everything about themselves?
Maybe the best you can hope for is learning how to appreciate who you are without paying much attention to who you aren’t.
Maybe that’s how I’ve changed the most. I’ve learned to love myself for who I am instead of hating myself for who I’m not.
And no, not all of my new-found self-appreciation has come from Bryan; that wouldn’t really be true self-appreciation anyway. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching and I learned to no longer define myself by my flaws. Everyone has flaws. I refuse to be defined by mere imperfections.
I think a large part of being able to forgive and love myself has come from talking to Mom too. I no longer feel like I’ve been a burden to her all these years. Seeing her with Evan has lightened my heart. In a way, it’s like I was holding back allowing myself to be happy until I knew she was happy.
I love that she’s moving on, and in a way, it’s given me permission to let go and move on as well. Well, move in actually. It’s our last week in the suite and I am more than excited to move into our new apartment.
Cammie, on the other hand, is not so happy. It’s her sad face that I see as I return to the suite from getting lunch with Peyton. She had to go work at the tutoring center and Lia is out shopping. I have no clue what else that girl could possibly need. When I asked her, she said “New clothes for the apartment, silly.” Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that?
Rather glumly, Cammie is packing up some dishes and silverware in the kitchen. As I close the door behind me, I walk over to her and hop up onto the pale blue Formica counter. “Based on the look on your face, I guess he’s sticking by his decision, huh?” I pull a tortilla chip from the half-eaten bag on the counter next to me and crunch on it as she contemplates her answer.
Let Love Heal l-3 Page 18