Letting Go

by Jessica Ruddick

  He looked across the table at me. “Hi, Cori.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t form the words, so I nodded.

  “Hello, Luke,” Amber said, her voice dripping with malice. I kicked her under the table. She looked at me and mouthed what?

  Don’t I mouthed back. She huffed, but softened her expression.

  I pulled out my cell phone so I would have something to do. What I wanted to do was scurry out of there with my tail between my legs, but that was the old Cori, the one who didn’t face her problems. The new Cori was going to be an adult and face them head-on.

  Right, an adult with a cell phone for a shield and a petite blonde as a guard dog.

  I glanced up from my cell phone to sneak a look at Luke. He’d cut his hair since the last time I’d seen him. He was back to fuzzy mode, as I called it. He was wearing a navy blue sweater that intensified his blue eyes. He was also clean-shaven. I averted my gaze as I remembered the feel of his fuzzy hair under my fingertips and the smell of his aftershave.

  Nope, I wasn’t going to do this. I was new Cori, non-obsessing Cori.

  Focus.

  If Luke was fine sharing custody of our mutual friends, then I wasn’t going to be weird about it. He was chatting with Brad and didn’t seem bothered at all by me sitting across from him. It was like nothing had ever happened between us, like there had never been an us.

  Ouch.

  I needed a distraction.

  I looked over to Josh and Tabitha. What was the attraction? With her spiky haircut and goth style, she had nothing in common with any of his other conquests. Come to think of it, though, most of the girls he dated didn’t have much in common. His type was female. Unfortunately, he always seemed to choose poorly, and based on the sour look on this girl’s face, he’d stayed true to his streak. Poor Josh.

  My phone vibrated, startling me so badly I almost dropped it. It was a text message from my boss at the restaurant wondering if I could work tonight.

  Hell, yes, I could.

  “I just got called in to work,” I said apologetically and stood. “See you all later.” I didn’t look at Luke as I said this. Even Adult Cori did not want to repeat this awkwardness anytime soon. That wasn’t immaturity. That was just being smart.

  As I turned to leave, my eyes met Luke’s before I could stop myself. His eyes were so familiar and distant at the same time. It made me sad, but I didn’t feel any tears coming on.

  Progress. I was going to be okay.

  …

  It was a mad scramble to get home to change and make it to the restaurant before the start of my shift. The restaurant was packed, which was surprising because a light snow was falling outside. I figured that would keep people in, but it was so busy I didn’t even have time to take my break. Right before closing, though, the manager had the cook whip me up some chicken tenders and fries, so I figured I came out ahead on that deal. I even puppy-dog eyed him into a brownie pie for dessert.

  While the servers finished wiping down the tables, I rolled silverware. My feet were aching. Even though I’d bought more comfortable shoes, I wasn’t used to standing on concrete floors for hours at a time. I took a break from the silverware to slip off my shoes and massage my arches. Ah, heavenly. The only thing better than a foot massage was having someone else give you a foot massage. I’m just saying.

  It was nearly midnight before my manager finally called it quits. I’d rolled all the silverware there was to roll half an hour before, but the rule was that everyone left together. I wasn’t complaining. I was on the clock, and I didn’t have anywhere to be.

  My manager handed me my schedule for the next two weeks as we headed out. I was working three days this week and four days the next. Score!

  “When are you working?” Christie, one of the servers, asked me. She was older than me, probably late twenties.

  I showed her my schedule.

  “Mondays are slow,” she said, “but Tuesdays get busy for kids’ night. Friday nights are also pretty busy.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “How long have you worked here?”

  “Too long.” She stopped next to a rusted pick-up truck and fished around in her purse for her keys. “I took a semester off too many years ago to count and now here I am.”

  “You could always go back.” She probably hadn’t heard that gem of advice before.

  “Maybe I will, someday.” She unlocked her door—with the key, not a clicker—but stopped before climbing in. “Isn’t that your car? Do you know that guy?”

  I looked up to see Luke leaning against my car, ankles crossed and hands stuffed in pockets. There was a light dusting of snow on his shoulders. What the hell. Why was he here?

  “Yeah, I…know him.”

  “Okay, just checking, ’cause you never know with creepers these days. Anyway, I have Monday off, so I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  After she drove away, I slowly walked to my car.

  “Hi,” I said, only it came out more like a question.

  “Hey,” he said. That was all he said. Then we just stood there. What was his deal? It wasn’t awkward enough at Thirsties, so he came to get an extra dose?

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “A while. I wasn’t sure what time you got off.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can we talk?”

  I eyed him suspiciously. His ambivalence toward me at Thirsties and his showing up now were totally throwing me for a loop.

  “Sure.” I wiped at a spot of snow that had fallen on my face. “We can sit in my car, I guess.”

  I clicked the button to unlock the doors. Luke opened the driver’s side door for me and closed it after I’d gotten in, then crossed in front of the car to get in the passenger side.

  We were inches apart. I could smell his deliciousness and my heart rate quickened, my palms dampened. I tried to inconspicuously breathe through my mouth.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  “Okay.” Not really, but I wasn’t about to tell him I’d spent my entire winter break trying to get over him, that I considered not crying after I’d seen him earlier a small victory.

  “Amber said something about you volunteering at the Student Counseling Center.”

  “That’s right.” I lifted my chin up a notch. “This isn’t what you wanted to talk about, is it?”

  I was Adult Cori now, tackling my problems head-on.

  Except I wasn’t entirely sure Luke coming to see me was a problem. I just didn’t know what to make of it.

  He looked out the passenger side window. “Are you seeing someone?”

  I did a double take. “What? No.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re being weird.”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “Then cut it out.”

  “You don’t have a monopoly on being weird.”

  I certainly didn’t, because this was definitely weird, but it was nice being able to joke with him a little bit. Maybe I would still be able to hang out with my Beta friends after all.

  The silence stretched on, and I yawned. For someone who wanted to talk, he wasn’t saying much. I yawned again. “I should probably get home.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’ve had a long day.”

  “Yup. Driving six hours and then working a full shift just about did me in.”

  “I missed you,” he said suddenly, slowly. “I didn’t expect to, but I did. When Lindsey and I broke up, I guess I didn’t miss her because breaking up with her was the right thing to do. But you—” His eyes, soft and vulnerable, searched my face. This was the first time I’d seen anything but coldness or detachment in them when he looked at me since we’d broken up. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too,” I said quietly. I breathed slowly. Now what?

  He didn’t say anything. He surprised me by opening the door and getting out, tossing a small package wrapped in shiny red paper onto the passenger seat.

  “Merry Christmas.” He shut the do
or before I could say anything in return.

  I quickly flipped on my windshield wipers to clear away the snow so I could watch him walk to his Jeep in the corner of the parking lot. The headlights came on, but he didn’t pull away. After a minute, I realized he was waiting until I left.

  He always was a gentleman.

  I eyed the present as I drove home as if it were a hand grenade. It very well could be with the way he tossed it into my car and then scurried away.

  Okay, he didn’t scurry. He walked, but still.

  Once in my room, I laid the present on my desk and stared at it from several feet away.

  Then I snapped out of it and pounced on it. I ripped into the paper and tugged the box top off.

  It was a silver necklace with a four-leaf clover pendant.

  “Everybody needs a good luck charm,” I could hear him saying.

  I only hesitated about half a second. Then I grabbed the necklace and flew out the door.

  It was almost one a.m., but I didn’t care. If I didn’t go now I would lose my nerve.

  The snow was falling harder and the temperature had dropped significantly in the last hour. I wished I had taken the time to grab a scarf, hat, and gloves. The air inside my car was freezing. There might very well be icicles hanging from my eyelashes. I cranked the heat and slapped the dash, as if that would make it work faster. Its response was to sputter and die. Typical.

  I banged on the dash again. “I’ll stop hitting you if you just start working,” I pleaded. Its response this time? Cold air.

  Fudgetastic.

  I turned it off and gripped the steering wheel. At my current speed of twenty miles an hour, it would take me an hour to get there, but the snow was coming down so hard I didn’t feel safe going any faster. I’d probably end up with frostbite. Toes were overrated anyway.

  I was almost halfway there when I seriously started considering whether or not this was truly a good idea. I had two choices. I could press on and hope the roads were navigable, or return home on roads that I knew were somewhat passable.

  Suddenly, the rear of the car swung out to the side.

  Shit! Shit! It was like the car was moving in slow motion. I wished I’d paid more attention in driver’s ed. What the hell was I supposed to do in this situation?

  Instinct and fear took over and I slammed my foot on the brake. Wrong answer. The car started spinning. I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed, clutching the steering wheel for dear life. Not my proudest moment.

  I heard a thud and felt a jolt, throwing me into my seat belt. I took a few deep breaths and opened my eyes.

  The front tires were caught in a snow bank. I rolled down the window and leaned out to get a better look. My car was in a right turning lane, so I probably wasn’t in danger of being hit if anyone else was crazy enough to be out in the snow. I threw it in reverse and slammed on the gas. All I managed to do was burn a layer of rubber off my tires, which wasn’t good. They were nearly bald as it was.

  I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the steering wheel. “Fuck.”

  I fished in my purse and pulled out my wallet. Among all the random receipts and reward cards I found what I was looking for, my AAA card. My hands were shaking from the cold, but I managed to tap the number into my phone.

  After being put on hold for fifteen minutes, I was told that it would take about three hours for them to get to me. Apparently I wasn’t the only one stupid enough to drive in this weather.

  My teeth chattered as I climbed into my backseat searching for a blanket, a spare T-shirt, anything really. I came up with a box of tissues and a frozen bottle of water. This was perhaps the only time in my life I’d wished my organization habits were more like Amber’s. At any given time, a large part of her wardrobe, along with various snacks, were scattered all over her car.

  Amber! Amber would rescue me. I called her, but it went straight to voicemail. I left an urgent message for her to call me back and then texted her for good measure.

  Five minutes went by, then ten, then fifteen. I didn’t think Amber was going to come through for me. It was probably for the best. I was actually the better driver out of the two of us.

  Who else could I call that could come and get me at this hour and in these conditions? It had let up, but the roads were still covered in ice and snow.

  I needed someone with a four-wheel drive. Perhaps a Jeep with massive tires.

  I pulled up Luke’s number on my phone and stared at it. What other choice did I have? If AAA told me three hours, that probably meant more like four or five.

  I pressed the send button.

  It rang once, twice, then three times.

  Please pick up.

  “Yeah?” His voice was groggy.

  I simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and felt a churn in my stomach.

  “Luke, it’s Cori. I’ve been in an accident,” I blurted out.

  “Shit, are you okay?” He was definitely more alert now.

  “Yeah, but I’m stuck.” I bit my lip. “I called AAA, but they won’t be here for hours.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Main and Graft.”

  “I’ll be there. Just don’t go anywhere.”

  Not likely—or more accurately, not possible.

  I tossed my phone onto the passenger’s seat and pulled my hands up into my sleeves. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked back and forth hoping the movement would warm me up. My breath came out in warm bursts and was the only thing above freezing in the car.

  Ten minutes passed. How stupid was I to race out in this weather? We didn’t get snow back home, but this wasn’t my first winter here. I knew better.

  And I’d paid enough attention in Women’s Studies to know I had just displayed the stereotypical damsel in distress behavior. Sorry, Dr. Nantis, but I was a damsel in distress.

  Twenty minutes. Despite the cold, I broke out in a sweat. I’d rushed out of the Alpha house figuring I’d come up with what I’d say on the drive, but I’d been so focused on keeping my little car on the road that I hadn’t given it any thought. What was I going to say to him?

  How did I know that the necklace meant something? He could’ve bought it before we split. Maybe he just gave it to me for closure.

  My gut told me that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t trust myself to properly evaluate the situation when Luke was concerned.

  Twenty-five minutes. I poked my fingers out of my sleeve just enough for me to gnaw at my cuticles. What was taking so long? God, I hoped he hadn’t gotten in an accident.

  Up ahead I saw two headlights slowly moving toward me. As they drew closer, I saw the outline of Luke’s Jeep.

  I sighed with relief. He was safe.

  And here. I gulped.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  He pulled up beside me and hopped out of the Jeep.

  I started to open the door to find that it would only open about six inches. I closed it and opened it more forcefully.

  Luke grabbed the edge of the door before I could do it again. “Don’t,” he said. “You’ll just make it worse.” He shut the door gently, then pulled open the rear passenger door, which opened with no problem.

  I blushed, feeling like an idiot. Maybe if my brain wasn’t frozen I would have figured that out.

  I not-so-gracefully clambered into the backseat with my ass in the air. On the way over the center console, I grabbed the necklace box and stuffed it safely in my pocket.

  Luke held out his hand, and I took it, stepping into the snow. I was still wearing my work shoes, a pair of ballet flats, and my feet sank immediately, getting soaked. I hissed from the shock of the coldness on my skin.

  Luke shook his head. “Come on,” he said, leading me toward his Jeep.

  “Wait.” I stopped. “What about my car? Can’t you pull it out?”

  He looked over at it and then at me. “There’s no way I can get it out now. It’ll have to wait for the tow truck.”

  “Oh.” I looked back
at my car, feeling somewhat guilty abandoning it. He was right, of course. The snow was coming heavier now, and my car was getting more and more stuck by the second.

  I used the door handle to pull myself up into the Jeep, and Luke kept his hands on my waist. Good thing, because my stupid wet ballet flat slipped and I would’ve face planted if he hadn’t steadied me.

  The warmth of his hands felt good and not just because I was freezing. They steadied me. He steadied me.

  God, I hoped my gut was right and that necklace meant something.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and I remained silent, thinking it would be better not to distract him from driving. He was a good driver, but then again, I had considered myself a good driver as well, and look where that got me.

  He turned the heat on. I almost cried.

  “Oh, thank God.” I put my hands up to the vents, hoping to regain some circulation.

  “How long were you stuck there?”

  “Over an hour. And my heat broke on the way.”

  He turned the heat up to full blast. I could’ve kissed him.

  I wanted to kiss him. That would warm me up.

  No dirty thoughts.

  He headed south on Main Street, rather than north back toward campus.

  “Where are you going?”

  He spared me a glance. “Beta house. I don’t know how bad the roads are the other way. Besides, even if we make it back to the Alpha house, sorority house rules mean I can’t stay there, and I don’t want to risk driving there and back.”

  “But I can stay at the Beta house,” I whispered. Our first impromptu sleepover hadn’t gone so well. How would it measure up to this one?

  “Yeah,” he said. I couldn’t read his expression.

  His posture was relaxed as he drove, slow and steady. No white knuckles on the steering wheel for him. Earlier at the restaurant, I’d seen a side of him I’d never seen before.

  Insecurity. That’s what it was. I’d never seen him insecure before. But now he was back to his confident self.

  What did that mean?

  I had no clue, and it was driving me crazy. Logic wouldn’t help me with this puzzle.

  Fifteen miles an hour and twenty minutes later, we were safely in the Beta parking lot. I dreaded leaving the warmth of the Jeep for the short trek through the snow in the parking lot.