Across the Distance

by Marie Meyer

  “I don’t know why,” Sarah interjected.

  “He’s only my friend.” It was better that way, I reminded myself. Why complicate things? “He has a girlfriend.”

  “Good, I’d hate to lose my girl to some dude that lives…” Brandon looked at me. “Where are you from?”

  “Glen Carbon, Illinois,” I answered. “About fifteen minutes east of St. Louis.”

  “Maguire.” A voice shouted from behind us.

  Sarah and I started at the deep voice and turned in its direction. Brandon sat his beer down on the deck’s railing and walked around us. “Hill, good to see you, man.” The two guys gave each other the customary guy-hug—a few slaps to the back.

  “You too, man.” Backing away from Brandon, he smiled at Sarah. “Sarah, nice to see you’re a permanent fixture this year.”

  “Yep. Now Brandon can’t get away with anything,” Sarah said, knocking her hip into Brandon’s side.

  “Who’s this?” Mr. Deep Voice turned to me and smiled.

  “This is my roommate, Jillian,” Sarah said.

  “Nice to meet you, Roommate Jillian.” He smirked and offered his hand in greeting.

  “Nice to meet you, Brandon’s Friend,” I retorted, placing my hand in his. He gave it a firm and confident shake, never averting his gaze.

  “The name’s Ryan.” He reminded me of a California surfer boy. His blond hair stood out against his tanned skin, and his body suggested he spent an ample amount of time riding the waves. His cerulean gaze burned like the hottest part of a flame. It was almost a certainty that anyone who got involved with this guy was sure to get burned.

  “When did you get back?” Brandon asked him.

  Ryan flashed me a smile and turned his attention back to Brandon. “Yesterday.”

  “Cool. You get moved into your apartment?”

  “Yeah, my parents sent most of my things to the apartment while I was in Chicago.”

  “Oh, that’s right; you had that internship this summer. How was that?” Brandon asked.

  “It was pretty fucking cool. Kept me busy, though.”

  “An internship doing what?” Sarah asked.

  “My dad hooked me up with an architectural firm in Chicago. He called in some favors.” Ryan shrugged.

  “Impressive,” Sarah said. “That will look great on a résumé.”

  “I hope so. You want another beer?” He asked me, completely disregarding Sarah.

  I looked down at my full glass. “No thanks, I’m good.”

  He placed his hand on my elbow and leaned in closer. “You want to go find someplace quieter?”

  My throat tightened and my heartbeat quickened. I looked at Sarah, hoping she’d save me.

  “Come on, Brandon. These shoes are killing me. I need to sit down.” She took Brandon’s hand and led him toward the house. I knew I was on my own when she giggled and nodded her head, indicating I should go. Thanks a lot, Sarah. Very subtle. She and I were going to have a long talk later on.

  “Um…” Before I could come up with a convincing reason not to go with him, my phone buzzed. I pulled it back out. A sweaty picture of Griffin doused in stage lights illuminated the screen. “I’m sorry. I really need to take this.” I gave Ryan an apologetic smile and took off in search of that quieter place without him.

  As I walked toward the back of the house, I answered the call. “You buy a helmet yet?” I shouted over the pounding bass, making my way toward the quieter backyard.

  “Hello to you, too. Where the hell are you?” he shouted back.

  Once I was clear of the house I could hear him better. “Hi, Griffin. Thanks for saving me. Even eleven hundred miles away, your timing is impeccable.”

  “Where are you? Saving you from what?” he asked again. He sounded worried.

  I found a secluded corner in the back of the yard and plopped onto the grass. “My roommate, Sarah, talked me into going to the Phi Psi party tonight. I’m here now.”

  “Be careful, Jillibean, fucking frat boys can’t be trusted.”

  After meeting Ryan Hill, I thought Griffin’s animosity toward frat guys was warranted. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “I’m okay, but I’m not going to lie, it completely sucked ass having to start classes today.”

  “I’m sorry, Bean. I wish I could be there with you, but I know how strong you are. You’re going to do great.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence.” I sighed, running my fingers over the thick grass.

  “Damn right I have confidence in you. You’re the strongest person I know.”

  I smiled, picturing him giving me a stern look; his forehead creased, eyes pinched. He always was my biggest cheerleader. “Thanks, Griff.”

  “I don’t need thanks for telling the truth. Are you alone?” he asked. “Where’s Sarah?”

  “She’s off somewhere with her boyfriend. Did you start classes today?” A warm breeze whipped some of my blue strands of hair into my face. I brushed them away, careful not to get blue chalk on my face and fingers.

  “Yeah, I had one. The guys and I spent the rest of the day rehearsing.” He sounded tired. He was the most driven person I knew. I hoped he wasn’t pushing himself too hard.

  “Do you have a show tonight?”

  “Yeah, but I wanted to call you before we went on.”

  “I miss you, Griff.” I suddenly felt very alone.

  “I miss you too.” The timbre of his voice dropped. “I may not be physically there, but I’m still with you, Bean.”

  “Promise?” I waited for his usual reply.

  “I’m sorry, Bean, I’ve got to go.” he said hurriedly. “The guys are waiting. I’ll call you later.”

  He didn’t say “forever,” like he always did.

  “That’s okay. Knock ’em dead.” I tried to sound excited, but the lump in my throat served as a cork, keeping the excitement bottled up inside.

  “Be careful, Jillibean. I mean it.”

  To keep from crying, I busied myself tearing at clumps of grass. “I will. I promise. Bye, Griff.”

  “Bye, Bean.”

  Before the line went dead, I could hear the repetitive beat of drums in the background. For the second time tonight, I watched Griffin’s picture fade to black before I slipped it back into my pocket.

  The sun had set while I was on the phone. Dozens of darkened silhouettes filled the backyard, oddly lit by the light spilling through the windows of the house. Hearing Griffin’s voice reminded me of how much I missed him. I didn’t have the energy to join the masses anymore. In retrospect, this party wasn’t such a good idea.

  I poured the warm beer in cup onto my tiny mound of grass clippings before I stood up. I was ready to go back to the dorm. I hoped Sarah wouldn’t be too upset.

  Pushing through the crowd, I pulled open the back door and went inside. Only a few people stood in the kitchen, but when I entered the main room, it was filled with tons of horny co-eds looking to score, and countless drunks. It seemed when people got wind of a party the news spread like kindling over dry brush.

  “Sarah?” I yelled over the booming music. I stretched up on my tiptoes and craned my neck, hoping to get a better view of the room. Sadly, my five-and-a-half-foot frame didn’t offer me any advantages. Great, that’s all I needed—to lose my roommate at my first college party.

  In the distance, I thought I saw a girl wearing bright red heels and a black dress, sitting on someone’s lap. I squinted, trying to see through the dark. Sure enough, my eyes hadn’t deceived me: it was Sarah sitting on Brandon’s lap, their heads connected at the lips.

  When I was a few feet away, I called her name. “Sarah.” By her lack of response, I could tell her thoughts were elsewhere. “Sarah,” I tried again. I really didn’t want to tap her shoulder, but she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Hey, it’s Roommate Jillian.”

  Behind me, I could hear Ryan Hill’s deep voice approaching. Shit. Why wouldn’
t he leave me alone? I turned around and there he was, standing right in front of me. “It’s just Jillian,” I corrected.

  “Where’d you run off to earlier?”

  “Nowhere. If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my roommate.” I turned around, hoping he’d realize I wasn’t interested.

  “Sure thing, babe. I can take a hint,” he replied sarcastically. “You didn’t look like you’d be a whole lot of fun anyways.”

  “Dick,” I mumbled under my breath. As much as I wanted to turn around and flick him off, my desire to leave won out. I tapped Sarah on the shoulder and prayed he walked away. “I’m sorry to ask, but would it be okay if we left?”

  “Uh, sure.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

  I shook my head no. I wasn’t okay, and if I didn’t leave now, I risked having a meltdown in the middle of all these fucking strangers.

  “Okay. Um…” I could tell she didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t ever seen me on the verge of a panic attack. She gave Brandon a concerned look and then stood up from his lap. “I’ll call you in the morning,” she said, bending down to kiss him one more time.

  When she straightened up, she appraised me. “Jillian, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good.”

  “I just need to go.” I needed to get out of the crowd, but who I needed most was back in Illinois.

  “Do you want me to drive you two back to the dorm?” Brandon asked Sarah.

  “No, I drove. We haven’t been here that long. Plus, you kept me pretty occupied. I never even got to finish my drink.” Sarah winked at Brandon.

  “I’ll walk you guys out,” Brandon said, standing up.

  The three of us shoved our way through the throng of people, to the front door. Once we were outside, I felt better. The breezy night air cooled my flushed skin and worked magic on my shot nerves.

  “Jillian, will you please tell me what’s wrong?” Sarah begged. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was really worried about me.

  “I’ll be okay. I promise. I just needed to get out of there.” I took a deep breath. Sarah gave Brandon another uneasy look, but didn’t ask me any more questions. I was thankful for the silence as we walked to her car.

  Brandon and Sarah held hands and I walked a couple of steps behind them, enjoying the night air. After feeling like the walls were closing in at the frat house, outside felt like heaven.

  When we got to the car, I climbed into the passenger seat, giving Sarah and Brandon a minute to say good-bye and most likely talk about my erratic behavior. I was sure they both thought I was Looney Tunes by now. I rested my face on the cool glass of the window and waited when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw I had a text from Griffin. It read: Forever.

  He knew he’d forgotten.

  Chapter Five

  Sarah pulled the driver’s side door open and started the car. In the side mirror, I saw Brandon walking back to the frat house.

  “Jillian, you really need to tell me what’s going on, because I am seriously worried.” She turned and looked at me, unwilling to move the car until I gave her some sort of explanation.

  I felt sick. All I really wanted right now was for Griffin to hold me. He’d gotten me through this day for the past eleven years. The only people I’ve ever discussed my parents’ deaths with were my therapist and him. I lifted my head from the window and looked at Sarah. Now that I was on my own, I didn’t know how to handle my emotions.

  The streetlights bathed the car in a soft glow, providing just enough light that I could make out Sarah’s features. Her eyes were wide with worry, the blackness of her pupils hiding the striking violet color of her irises. The corners of her lips were turned down. She waited for me to say something.

  “I’m sorry I asked you to leave. I just couldn’t stay in there.” Not after talking to Griffin. And definitely not after meeting Ryan-Jackass-Hill.

  “I’m not upset that you asked me to leave, I’m worried about you,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”

  I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.” I lifted my hand from hers and shifted in the seat, angling my body so I could see her better. “Can we go back to the dorm, please?” I asked, not wanting to open my old wounds in the car.

  With a defeated sigh, Sarah replied, “Sure.”

  I watched her pull the car onto the street. Her shoulders sagged as she leaned toward the steering wheel. I should give her a chance. Wasn’t that why I came here? To start over? Get away from my past? I needed to talk to her. “Sarah,” I whispered.

  She kept her eyes on the road. “Hmm?”

  “Are you tired?” I asked. If I was going to spill my guts, I wanted to get it all out at once.

  “Not really.”

  “Can we talk when we get back to the room?”

  She turned her head toward me. “Only if you want to.”

  I was pretty sure I needed to talk to someone. The one person I wanted to talk to wasn’t here, so maybe it was time I learned to trust someone else.

  * * *

  I was thankful for the quiet, five-minute drive back to the dorm. Somehow, Sarah must have known I needed that time to gather my courage.

  Sarah parked the car and we got out. When I rounded the front of the car, she threw her arms around my shoulders, squeezing me in a tight hug. “Jillian, we may not have known each other long, but I’m always here to listen,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  Once we got to our room, we both ditched the party clothes for sweats and t-shirts. My well-loved, oversized, Mine Shaft t-shirt was too comfortable to pass up, and because it used to be Griffin’s, it sort of felt like he was here with me.

  I plopped down on my bed and pulled my comforter around my shoulders, waiting for Sarah to get back from the bathroom. What made me think that my past wouldn’t follow me here? No matter where I lived, no matter where I went, my parents would still be dead. College wasn’t the escape from reality that I’d prayed for. If anything, college was real life—real reality. For the first time ever, I had to survive on my own.

  The door creaked open and Sarah poked her head around, “It’s just me,” she said, tossing a towel into her hamper.

  I smiled half-heartedly.

  She climbed onto her bed. “If you’re too tired, we can talk some other time. I don’t want to force you…” She trailed off.

  I shook my head. “I need to do this.” Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I pulled the blanket tighter and took a deep breath.

  “You already know that my parents died when I was little and that my sister and I had to move in with our grandparents. I told you that this summer.”

  “I remember.” She nodded.

  That was the easy part. The rest of the words felt like barbs stuck to my vocal cords. I cleared my throat hoping to dislodge them. “When I was little, I collected snow globes. Every vacation, every trip, wherever we went, I had to get a snow globe. By the time I was six, I had ninety-nine different globes from all over the U.S., and even a few from other countries. My dad had a business trip in New York City and my mom went with him.” My voice wobbled. I didn’t want to cry, but as my therapist always said, tears were a healthy way to let go of the hurt inside of me.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks.

  I didn’t feel better. Even after all these years, it still hurt so damn much.

  Sarah got up from her bed, grabbed a box of tissues from her dresser, and moved onto my bed. She pulled a tissue from the box and held it out. I released the death grip on my blanket and took the tissue.

  “Thanks.” I sniffled, wiping my nose.

  “No problem.” She scooted closer and wrapped me in a fierce hug.

  Once Sarah let go, I blew my nose and continued with my story. “Before my parents left for New York, my mom promised she’d get me a snow globe from the city. As it turned out, my stupid collection would cost my parents their lives.”

  “That’s not true,
” she said quietly.

  I pulled another tissue from the box and pressed it to my eyes. I couldn’t stop crying. “Sorry.” I sobbed into the tissue.

  Sarah rubbed my back, trying to comfort me. “You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  I lifted my head from the tissue and looked at her through swollen eyes. “I know. But I do want to.” And I really did. “It just takes me a while to get through it. It’s not something I talk about often. Years of counseling have gotten me this far, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”

  “Oh, Jillian.” She sighed and hugged me again, pulling a tissue from the box and drying her eyes, too.

  “If I hadn’t asked them to get me that stupid snow globe, they wouldn’t have decided to meet their friend that worked at the World Trade Center.”

  Sarah didn’t answer right away. She bit her bottom lip and inhaled deeply, trying not to cry herself. “God, Jillian,” she whispered.

  “My mom called the night before and told me their plan for the day. They were picking up my snow globe and then their friend was giving them a tour of the buildings before the work day started. The fact that they had to buy my souvenir first made them schedule their tour at the exact wrong time.” I tore up the tissue in my hand and tossed the shreds on the bed. I hated the emptiness in my hands, so I pulled a fresh one from the box and repeated the cycle.

  “You want to know the worst part?”

  Sarah nodded, pulling out a wad of tissues for herself, giving in to the tears she’d tried to fight off.

  “My parents knew they weren’t going to make it out.”

  “Dear God,” she mumbled.

  “Jennifer and I were at school when it happened. My grandparents had just dropped us off and were on their way back home.”

  I had to pause for a minute. This was so hard. I rubbed my eyes and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “I need to get some water.” I choked.

  Without another thought, Sarah flew off the bed and went to the mini-fridge. She pulled out two bottles of water and came back to sit with me on my bed. “Here.” She held out one of the bottles.