Memories of the summer before we left for college nagged at me, though. He had been moody. His friends and I had joked he was like a thirteen-year-old girl with PMS. He’d laughed it off. But had he really? We were all so busy, getting ready to leave home. Everything was different, so it didn’t seem so weird that he was acting a little different, too.
“He used to get down sometimes,” I said, “but he always snapped out of it in a day or two.”
She nodded. “That was part of it.”
“Why…why wouldn’t he tell me?” It was silly to feel hurt, but that’s what I felt. He should have come to me. He should have trusted me. He should have…lived.
“You know how he was. He didn’t want to show a weakness. He didn’t want to show that he wasn’t in control.”
“I would have understood.” The need to be in control was something we had in common, the one reason we ever butted heads. If anyone would have understood, it was me. He knew that. He should have known I’d understand. Even though we’d grown apart, I would have been there for him.
“I know. He was just so sensitive about it. His sister and I are the only ones who knew he was on medication.”
“What medication was he on?” I knew a bit about anti-depression medication since my parents made me talk to that therapist last summer. I had researched and learned that certain medication had strange effects on teens specifically and could actually make them more suicidal. So if Tyler’s doctor put him on medication despite the risk, then he must have been really bad.
“Different ones. I don’t remember the names of all of them. His doctor kept switching them to find one that worked.”
“Is that why he…?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She sighed. “I should have had this conversation with you much sooner, but I’ve been afraid, unable to face things.”
She wasn’t the only one.
I took a deep breath. “I can’t help but wonder…” I trailed off as my chin started to quiver and tears threatened to fall again.
“Me, too,” she said quietly, squeezing my hand. “There are so many ‘what ifs’ running through my mind.”
“What if…” Oh God, I didn’t know how I was going to say it. “What if we hadn’t fought?” I choked the words out. “We yelled at each other. That’s what his last conversation was—me yelling at him.”
Mrs. Pullman went still for a moment. Then she shook her head slowly. “It’s not your fault.”
I broke.
“I did it.” I sobbed, nearly hyperventilating. “I killed him. I killed Tyler. I’m the reason he—”
She grabbed me by the shoulders. “Stop. I want you to stop this instant. Don’t say that, don’t think it. It is not your fault.”
My shoulders sagged as the air left my lungs. She said it again softly, “It was not your fault.”
“I should have known. I should have seen it.”
“I’m his mother. Don’t you think I’ve told myself the same thing? I want to tell you something, and I want you to believe me.” She looked me in the eye. “It was nobody’s fault.
“Here’s something else I learned recently,” she went on, “which is why I’m finally cleaning out this room. Life goes on. I was watching Alicia play volleyball the other day. They changed her position. She’s a middle blocker now because she’s gotten so tall. I thought about how proud Tyler would have been of his little sister. And it just hit me. Life goes on. And Tyler would want it to go on. No matter what his own troubles were, he wouldn’t want me to lose myself like he did. And he wouldn’t want you to, either.”
“I started dating someone,” I blurted out.
Her eyes widened in shock for a split second and then she smiled. “Good.”
“I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“I want you to move on with your life,” Mrs. Pullman said. “I hope you never forget about Tyler, but you’ve got to live.”
I shook my head vehemently. “I could never forget about him.”
She smiled. “No, I don’t suppose you could. He was a great guy.”
“The best,” I agreed in a shaky voice.
We sat in quiet for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Then Mrs. Pullman cleared her throat and wiped the moisture from her eyes. “I hope this new guy is treating you well.”
I looked down. “I sort of messed it up, so it’s over now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, especially if he made you happy.” She rose. “I’ll leave you alone again. Come downstairs when you’re ready.” She shut the door softly behind her.
I looked around the room slowly, taking in everything that represented the boy I’d loved.
Memories flooded my mind. Tyler giving me a salute when he scored a goal. Bringing him chicken noodle soup when he had the flu. The two of us babysitting his sister. Posing for prom pictures. Adjusting his graduation cap so that the tassel lay just right.
Part of me would always love him. That was okay. I’d accepted that.
But it was time to let go.
I stood in the doorway and took one last look. “Good-bye, Tyler.” I closed the door behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Jonathan, this is Cori. She’ll be shadowing you this evening.”
I smiled at Jonathan, a skinny redhead who looked to be several years older than me, before taking a seat next to him. The cubicle we were sitting in was empty except for a phone and some motivational posters.
“Do you need anything else?” Mrs. Young, the Student Counseling Center director, asked. She wandered off before I had the chance to answer, her mind obviously on other things.
“Have you started the training yet?” Jonathan asked.
I shook my head. “The next session starts after winter break, so Mrs. Young said I could observe for a while to make sure I really want to do this.”
He nodded, tapping a pencil on the desk. “A lot of people don’t make it through the mock calls.”
We sat quietly for a few moments. I read the poster hanging in front of me titled Warning Signs of Suicide. Some of the signs were obvious, like talking about wanting to die. Not so much for some of the other signs, for instance, sleeping too much or too little and increase in alcohol consumption. Didn’t that apply to the majority of college students?
I fiddled with my watch. Only ten minutes had passed.
“So, do we just sit here?”
“Yup. The phone doesn’t always ring.”
My shoulders slumped. “Oh.”
He laughed. “Don’t be so disappointed. Think of it this way. The less calls, the less people are suicidal. It’s just important that we’re here if someone does need us.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since I was a junior, so four years now. I’m a second year grad student.”
“Have you ever, you know, lost someone?”
His brow furrowed for a moment, and I thought I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Not on the phones, no.”
I knew what that meant.
He pulled a thick paperback, some fantasy novel, out of the backpack at his feet. “The first rule for manning the phones is to always, always bring something to do. There’s usually a lot of sitting around.”
I pulled out my criminology notes. I’d gotten custody of the front row seats in the class. I wasn’t even sure Luke was still attending class until I saw him slip in to the back row at the last minute the other day. I didn’t bother approaching him. He was obviously going out of his way to avoid me.
There was no news from the Luke front. Amber was still dating Brad, but Luke didn’t come around when she was at the house. The one time Josh came to class and I asked him about Luke, he got an uncomfortable look on his face and went mute. I guess I should count myself lucky the boy code allowed him to associate with me at all.
A whirl of scarves flew by the cubicle, then circled back.
“Miss Elliott, is that you?” Dr. Nantis peered over the c
ubicle wall.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I just started.”
“Started doing what?”
“Volunteering.” I took a deep breath. “I’m going to train to work the suicide hotline.”
“Interesting.” She paused, her eyes inspecting me. “Did you get that”—she waved her hand to show how superfluous she thought it was—“pageant taken care of?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I ducked my head a bit under her scrutiny.
No. I worked my tail off for that pageant. I wasn’t going to let her make me feel ashamed of it.
Sitting up straight, I looked her in the eye. “Actually, I won.”
She nodded her head slightly. “Congratulations.” She paused for a moment. “Stop by my office tomorrow and I’ll find some extra credit for you.”
I felt something I had almost forgotten about—hope. I didn’t know how much extra credit she’d give me, or how much it could improve my grade, but I’d gladly take whatever she was willing to give me. It couldn’t hurt.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Thank you.”
She was off before she heard my reply, a flurry of magenta and teal silk trailing in her wake. Did none of the women around here wait for responses before flitting away?
Jonathan looked up from his book to gaze at me curiously. “You won a pageant?”
I nodded. “Miss New River Valley.”
“Huh,” was all he said, and he was back to his book. I suppressed a smile. I guess Dr. Nantis wasn’t the only one who wasn’t impressed by my crown.
The phone rang and I jumped. My eyes widened and my heart pounded. I placed my palms flat on the table, my knuckles whitening. Here we go.
Jonathan calmly put a paperclip in his book to mark his place and picked up the phone. “Student Counseling Center. This is Jonathan.”
I watched as he listened. He rocked in his chair, making murmuring sounds every few seconds or comments like, “I understand,” and “That’s tough.”
I gnawed at my thumbnail, only stopping when I tasted blood. God, how could he be so calm? Someone’s life was on the line. I could hear the caller was female, and I pictured a scared girl clutching a phone.
After a few more minutes, he said, “Have you shared those feelings with her?” Another pause. “I definitely think you should.” Then he laughed. Actually laughed. “Well, my name’s Jonathan. I’ll be happy to talk to you again. Take care.”
I pounced as soon as he hung up the phone. “What happened?”
He rolled his chair back a few inches. I think I scared him.
“She had a fight with her roommate and needed someone to talk to.”
“But was she…” I gulped. “Suicidal?”
He shook his head. “Probably not, but you can never be certain. The fact that she’s calling a suicide hotline shows she’s at least thought about it, though. So maybe if next time is serious, she’ll reach out to us again.”
“Oh.”
“Most of the time, the people who call aren’t actually suicidal. They just need someone to talk to and don’t know where else to turn.” He picked up his book and opened it.
“My high school boyfriend killed himself,” I blurted out. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want anyone else to go through that.”
I felt like a burden had been unloaded. I’d avoided talking about it for so long and kept it a secret. I was still getting used to not doing that. It felt good to get it out in the open.
Jonathan looked up from his book. “My sister,” he said quietly. “A lot of people who volunteer have had someone close to them commit suicide. You’re not alone. And now you’re doing a good thing here—you’re making it so that others who feel alone don’t have to.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“Don’t be. You’ll go through training and learn everything you need to know. And I can tell you’re going to make it through.”
I looked at him questioningly.
“You already have the things that can’t be taught, compassion and empathy,” he explained. “Without those, you’re nothing but an empty voice on the phone.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Jonathan.”
Pulling a twenty out of his pocket, he grinned and said, “How about you go get us something to eat? I’ve always wanted to have an underling.”
I looked pointedly at his red plastic name tag that read Volunteer. “We’re on the same level here.”
He pressed the money into my hand. “You don’t even have a name tag.”
He had me there. Grumbling, I took the money and went in search of food. For the first time in weeks, I felt good. I actually had an appetite. I might have made a mess of things getting here, but I knew I was in the right place.
One way or another, everything would be okay.
…
I twirled the paper from my straw around my pinky finger, making it into a ring. The restaurant was empty and I was bored out of my mind. I didn’t know why it was so urgent for me to work as hostess tonight, but when the manager called and told me I could have the job if I could start in an hour, I didn’t question. I just put my ass in gear and made it there in fifty-four minutes. Jobs in a college town were hard to come by, and I was in desperate need of money. I’d cleaned out my bank account when I’d written a check to Mr. Pullman. I’d stuck it in the mail with no note—just thanks, but no thanks written on the check’s subject line. I couldn’t keep that money. My memories of Tyler were not for sale.
Almost everyone had left for winter break, so the only diners were a few locals—an older couple and a few professor-looking types. It was odd seeing the professors out and about. I guess when the students left town, they came out of whatever dark cave they’d been hiding in and reclaimed the town.
I was stuck in town for a few extra days helping Dr. Nantis. She had me typing up her notes for some conference she was going to. In exchange, she was allowing me to redo my essay test for a higher grade. I suspected she was going to make the new test much harder, though. If I was lucky, I could pull an A- for the class. If a miracle happened, an A.
I was never one to believe in luck. Or miracles. But I’d take it.
I leaned against the hostess podium and rotated my feet one at a time. I hoped it wasn’t too late for Santa to bring me some comfortable shoes for Christmas. The only black shoes I had were heels, and after only two hours of standing my arches were screaming at me. I wondered if there was a stool somewhere I could sit on.
I crept back into the restaurant a bit to see if I could spot one. As soon as I turned a corner toward the kitchen, I heard the jingle of the bells on the door. Figures. No one had come in for the past hour, but I step away for thirty seconds and presto! In come the customers.
I scurried back to the hostess stand and pasted a smile on my face. I recognized the guy from somewhere. He looked on the young side, but he had the faint air of cockiness about him.
I nearly snapped my fingers. Cocky Boy, the Beta Chi pledge. What was his name?
“Welcome to Side Streets. Table for one?”
Before Cocky Boy could answer, the opening of the door caught my attention. I looked up.
Luke.
My breath caught. My hand flew to my throat.
He hadn’t shaved. In fact, he looked downright scruffy. He pulled off his ski cap and I saw something else I hadn’t noticed from the other side of the criminology classroom—his hair had grown out a bit.
It was sexy.
His eyes were as blue as ever. They locked onto mine for a brief moment before he looked away.
“Hey man,” Cocky Boy said to him. Then to me, “There’s two of us.”
I blindly grabbed two menus and two sets of silverware. “This way.”
Was he looking at me? The hairs on the back of my neck stood on alert. I wanted him to look at me. I wanted him to see me.
I’d shared a classroom with him twice a week for the last three weeks and there’d
been nothing, no indication that he even knew I was alive. I kept watch, waiting for something, anything.
I’d gotten nothing.
I seated them at a booth in the back of the restaurant. “Is there anything I can get you until your server arrives?” My voice shook, but my gaze remained steady.
Look at me.
He finally did. His face was devoid of emotion, his eyes betraying nothing.
Nothing. I was nothing to him.
Was that better or worse than him hating me?
“We’re good,” Cocky Boy said, oblivious to the tension.
I nodded tightly and returned to the hostess station.
I put a hand over my eyes, my chin quivering. I couldn’t do this here. I needed this job.
Tighten up, Corinne.
I’d been through worse. So my ex-boyfriend was in the same restaurant with me. So what? I’d been through death. This was nothing.
Nothing.
Except it wasn’t. Not to me.
He’d walked away from me, but he didn’t have the full story. I don’t know if he wanted to know, but I needed to tell him. If I’d learned nothing else in the last few months, I’d learned the importance of closure.
I deserved closure. To hell with what Luke wanted.
I sighed. Who was I kidding? I still cared about him. He deserved to know the truth, or at least have the option to learn the truth.
I took a few steps back and peered around the corner to where he was sitting. I watched as he placed his order and handed the menu to the waitress. As the waitress walked away, his gaze scanned the room. I jumped back. A few seconds later, I peeked out again. He was talking to Cocky Boy. Why was Luke having dinner with him? He seemed like an odd choice for a dinner companion. Then again, it had been several weeks since we’d spoken. I didn’t know what was going on in his life. They could be BFF’s for all I knew.
He could have a new girlfriend already.
Shit. I hadn’t thought about that. I squeezed my eyes shut as images of him and every other girl I’d ever seen out at the Beta house flooded my mind.
Torture.
I spent the next hour darting back and forth between the hostess station and peering around the corner, watching. No, I had no shame. Yes, I was totally being a stalker. Or as Luke once would have said, I was being weird.
Letting Go Page 24