My attention jerked to what he’d just said. “You would do that?” I asked. It was at least an eight hour drive, and though we often exaggerated, something in his voice told me he was serious.
“Of course, I would. You’re my best friend.” A pause. “But you didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I answered. “Scared me, though.”
“I bet. What did he want? Wait, let me guess. The ‘other woman.’”
“Yeah, apparently she ended things, and it’s my fault. He said he wanted to catch up, but...” I shuddered. “But then Dave drove into the parking lot,” I continued, “and he backed off.”
“Dave your sister’s boyfriend?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure he even saw us, but it was enough to make Spencer let me go.”
“I’m seriously considering driving down there. He has no right to keep showing up n and...” He trailed off, like he couldn’t think of the words he wanted. After a few seconds pause he finished: “hurting you.”
I knew that with one word from me Aaron would be on the road headed South to me. I had never had someone I could depend on so fully, but as much as I wanted to see him, I didn’t want it to be like this, with Spencer somehow still tangled up in it.
Neither Aaron nor I had said much for a few minutes. These silences were not abnormal for us, nor were they weird, but Aaron, always perceptive, picked up on something in this one. “Are you okay, Brooke?”
I was still trembling a bit, still scared that Spencer would somehow find where I lived and come back for me. A glance at the clock told me it was about the time Aaron’s and my conversations usually ended, which did nothing to allay my fears. “Just don’t hang up, yet, okay?” I said.
“I’m here all night if you need me.”
I didn’t need him all night, as it turned out, but we did talk for another hour or so. Aaron steered the conversation to himself--something he rarely did--which helped get my mind off the night’s events. By the time we said our good nights and hung up, I felt much calmer, and, shockingly, fell asleep with ease.
Chapter 17
I slept much later than usual the next day, probably because though I had fallen asleep okay, nightmares woke me up more than once. I couldn’t remember anything specific, but Spencer was in them, that sick smile leering down over me. One look in the mirror confirmed that it had been a rough night. Black mascara ringed my eyes, my face was still red and blotchy from crying. I wasn’t sure how to calm the fear pounding in my chest or how to reconcile that with the warmth I felt when thinking of Aaron’s offer to drive 500 miles to defend me. Too many emotions for so early in the morning. But I knew I could fix my outward appearance, so I started there.
From there my day was wide open. I decided to do some planning for the upcoming school year. I convinced myself that it was a productive way to spend the day, but really, it gave me an excuse to stay inside behind the safety of the locked door. I couldn’t explain my fear because I didn’t really think he would do anything to me, but I couldn’t get past it either. After a few hours my eyes were tired and my neck hurt from crouching over my books, so I decided to hit the gym. Since I made it there without incident, I thought I’d venture into the grocery store. All clear.
It had been a productive day, maybe too much so, because even after putting away the groceries and prepping some of the food for later, it was nowhere near dinner time. Bored, I opened my laptop and logged onto BEsocial. The first message in my queue ambushed me, bringing hot tears to my eyes.
YOU ARE SUCH A SLUT. BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE.
I had deleted Spencer from my circles once we broke up, but obviously he still had access to my main page. I was so taken aback by the attack that I almost didn’t see the conversation that followed in a series of comments.
AARON: Leave her alone already.
SPENCER: OOOHHH ARE YOU THE OBJECT OF HER SLUTTINESS?? BETTER WATCH OUT.
AARON: Seriously, man, stop it. You gave her up. Sorry if you are regretting that choice, but she is over you. Quit trying to hurt her.
SPENCER: OR WHAT? YOU GONNA COME HURT ME? WHO ARE YOU? SOM FB PLAYER WANNABE?
AARON: smh. You are such a jerk. Brooke didn’t deserve to be treated the way she was, and now that it’s over, she deserves to be left alone.
SPENCER: YEAH RIGHT. THAT SLUT OWES ME FOR FOUR YEARS OF NOTHING. NO WONDER I HAD TO GO FIND SOMEONE ELSE.
SPENCER: SLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUTSLUT SLUTSLUT!!!!!!!!!!!!
Below that last comment was another, separate message, this one from Aaron:
Brooke, I’m sorry I responded to that idiot. All I did was give him a chance to insult you more. Not what I intended. I’m really sorry.
Above all that craziness the private message alert was flashing. Nine new messages, all from friends of mine from the Spencer days, all of whom had quietly continued friendships with him after the breakup.
Each message was similar in its apology, expressing how they had believed his side of the story (whatever that was; I had no idea what he had told them), but were no longer sure why. That they couldn’t believe he would say those things and that they knew they weren’t true. I appreciated them all, but they did little to ease the pain.
Tired of it all, I snapped my laptop shut and lay on my bed looking up at the ceiling. Would I never be rid of this parasite? I had finally gotten my family off my case about him, and then he decides to force his way back into my life. I needed to call Aaron because I knew he’d be upset at what had happened and worried he’d hurt me, but I just wasn’t ready to delve back into it. Instead I found my notebook and a pen and began writing, but not on the awkward poem. This time I just wrote. When I stopped I had a list of words that somehow had formed themselves into a new poem:
reinvented
recreated
from nothing
something--
no, everything
smart, strong, sure
ready to succeed
in life
in love
but
never
ever
compromising
The words had flowed easily, without me having to think about them. According to my professors from college, that’s when the best writing happened. And since these words wrote themselves without my help, I had no choice really but to believe them.
Dinner time had long since passed, and even though I’d regained some of my confidence, my appetite had not come with it. It was time to call Aaron. I knew he wouldn’t call--he wouldn’t want to push me, but wait for me to be ready to talk.
Not even a full ring finished before he picked up the phone.
“Hey, Brooke.” His voice sounded sad, wounded. Unsure. It made me want to cry all over again because I had never heard any of this in Aaron’s voice before. Laughter, excitement, even anger, but never sadness.
I couldn’t stand the way he sounded, so I jumped right into what I needed to tell him. “I’m not mad at you.”
He didn’t answer right away, no doubt surprised by my greeting. “You’re not?”
“Of course not.”
“But I egged him on, gave him a place to keep hurling insults at you.”(# 9: Willing to admit when he is wrong--even though he wasn’t.)
“Aaron. He left the first message, and I have no doubt he would have left many more if he hadn’t been commenting instead.”
“I saw that this morning and knew how much it would hurt you when you saw it. But there was nothing I could do to protect you from it.”
“But you defended me (#29). No one has ever done that for me, especially not publicly. I was actually honored that you cared enough to say something.”
“Of course I care, Brooke. More than I know how to tell you over the phone.” My heart screeched to a stop and then was immediately overtaken by that damn herd of butterflies. I concentrated on slowing my breathing and shoving those emerging feelings down somewhere deep. I needed to
say something before it got weird. Our silences were famously not uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to change that, to let on that his words had affected me. But he spoke again before I had a chance to decide what to say. “I wish I was down there and could take all the hurt from these past months away. I wouldn’t know where to start though.”
“A hug might help,” I ventured.
Aaron laughed his soft, gentle laugh. “I could handle that. I’m an excellent hugger, you know.” I bet, I thought.
The mood had lightened, but I needed to tell him something before we moved on completely. “Aaron?” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“You have. Taken the hurt away, I mean.”
“But what about last night? And today? I’m not there to stop it.” I could hear the frustration in his voice.
“But you’re there to fix it. Always. Without question and without condition.” I pushed on before I lost my nerve or he stopped me. “I’m not sure how or why we became friends, but I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you, for this. And I may sound like a stupid sap for saying it, but I need you, Aaron, I need our friendship.” I waited for him to reply, hoping he wouldn’t hang up or, worse, allow the conversation to end and then never call again.
“I was willing to drive through the night to kick that sorry excuse for a man’s ass last night, Brooke. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Do you really trust that I won’t just wake up one day and decide I don’t need you as my friend?”
“Yes,” I said a little too defensively. Memories of my reaction to the fake texts popped into my head. That night I’d been so quick to accept what I thought was him saying goodbye. He’d assured me he wouldn’t do that, and I did believe him, but something about the fact that we only talked, never hung out or whatever made our friendship seem temporary in a way I couldn’t explain. It would be so easy for it to fade away if we let it. It’s not like we’d be running into each other around town or anything.
“Okay, so I guess I do fear our lives eventually getting in the way,” I said. “Right now it’s summer, and our time is pretty much our own, but when school starts back next month...”
“Things will look a little different,” he finished for me. “But that’s life. We will just have to work to keep our friendship going. That’s not a bad thing.”
“No, I guess not. I really cannot believe I’m telling you all this,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve had a State of the Friendship talk with Marcie or anyone before.”
“Maybe those weren’t as important for you to hold onto,” Aaron said quietly. He was right. I enjoyed spending time with my girl friends, hanging out, gossiping, but though I might miss them for awhile, allowing those relationships to die would cost me little.
Still, there was something different with Aaron. Something more than just him--us--being important. But allowing myself to go there could mean losing him altogether, and that was not something I was willing to risk.
“Okay,” I said finally, ready to move on before I said too much, “now that we’ve established that we are pretty important to one another, can we talk about something not so serious?”
“Absolutely.” There was relief in his voice. This was the first time we had really discussed our status, and doing so forced each of us to make ourselves very vulnerable. And while I was glad we’d had the conversation, I was ready to move on for now.
“So,” he said, “if you were plan your last meal, what would it be?” These questions were much safer territory, so I launched into a description of food that sounded so good I regained my appetite.
Chapter 18
What could be the polar opposite of Wednesday and Thursday? Whatever that would be, that’s what Friday was. I woke up early, met Marcie at the gym, did some research for the next Dwell class I was scheduled to teach, and came home to the most exciting message on my answering machine possible. Mr. Reynolds, my principal, had asked I call him concerning an opportunity he hoped I would consider. Teachers don’t really get promotions, so I had no clue what he had in mind. But curiosity (and a desire to stay in his good graces) led me to call him back immediately.
“Ah, Miss. Burrows,” he said in his trademark super chipper voice. “I’m so glad you got back to me. I have something I want to run by you.” This was exactly the way Caryn had started the conversation when she asked me to teach at Dwell.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The school district has found some money and it needs to spend it.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” I replied.
“For the most part, yes. But this money came with some strings attached, and it can only be spent for teacher development.” He paused, and I think I was supposed to say something, but I couldn’t think of what it would be. Unfazed, we went on. “Now don’t tell your colleagues this, but I find you to be one of our most promising young teachers, and I think using this money on you would be a wise investment.” Wow. Reynolds was always super pleasant, but he had never complimented me like that before. I felt the sudden urge to go do lesson plans or something.
“That’s very nice of you to say, sir. So what is it you want me to do?” He was a smart man; after that compliment I’d say yes to almost anything.
“There’s a National conference for English teachers in a couple of weeks I’d like you to attend. All expenses paid, of course. You’ll go and learn all you can to use in your own classroom and, hopefully, do some sessions with the other faculty to share that knowledge. How do you feel about teaching adults?” I silently laughed at this, at how full circle my summer was becoming.
“Piece of cake,” I said.”So where exactly is it I’m going?”
“The lovely city of Milwaukee. Ever been there?”
Oh. My. Goodness.
I couldn’t wait for the night to tell Aaron all this, so I decided to leave him a voicemail telling him I had exciting news to share. When he answered instead of the recording, it took me by surprise. “I thought you were working,” I said.
“I am, technically, but it’s raining. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just had a question.”
“Shoot,” he said.
“How far is it from Milwaukee to your house? Your parents’ house I mean.”
“Bout an hour. Whhhyyy?” He drew that last word out in an overly curious voice.
“Are you planning to go home before school starts?”
“Yeah, I want to. Where is this going, Brooke?” I was too excited to draw it out any longer, and so I told him about my call from Mr. Reynolds and my plans to be thiiis close to him in a matter of days. “You’re kidding, right?” Excitement filled Aaron’s voice.
“Nope. A week from Sunday. So I thought that maybe, if you happened to be visiting that week, we could meet up and have dinner or something. If you want to,” I added for effect.
“Uh, yeah!” he exclaimed. “But what if I go one better. What if you fly in a few days before your conference. You can stay at my parents’ house, so the school shouldn’t care. I’ll have you back in Milwaukee in time for your first session.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Of course. My mom loves playing hostess. She’s always trying to get me to bring friends home.” But probably not friends who are girls, I thought.
“I don’t want to impose...”
“You won’t. I promise.”
“Okay...,” I said, still hesitant. “When were you thinking?”
“Well, I have to work Tuesday, but that’s it up here. Why don’t I leave after work that day, spend Wednesday with the family, and you fly in sometime Thursday?”
“Hang on,” I said, flipping open my laptop. “There aren’t many Nashville to Milwaukee flights that day. Uh...okay, here’s one that arrives at 10:45 in the morning. Would that work?”
“Perfect,” he said. “That will get us back in time for lunch. What time does it depart?”
T
he answer to that was “too early,” but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Instead I said, “doesn’t matter. I’d rather spend the day hanging out with you than waiting for a plane to take off.” And that was true. “So that works for you?” I asked.
“Yep.”
I clicked a few keys on the computer. “Booked,” I said.
“Really?”
“Really.” And as I said it, I let the words sink in: after two months of not seeing him, I would see Aaron in less than a week.
He was excited, too, and we both talked non-stop for several more minutes, only hanging up when the rain stopped there and it became time for work here. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror as I was getting ready to head into Dwell, I saw a silly smile that I could not wipe off my face.
Caryn had no problem with me needing a few days off. I’m sure she realized that my “real” job trumped my part time summer gig.
“So you know what’s going to happen, right?” she asked.
“Noooo...,”I replied. “What?”
“You’re going to go spend the weekend with Mr. Wonderful and come back even more convinced that no one else is good enough for you.”
“I will not!” I said, defensively. But my cheeks were growing redder by the second, and I feared she was right.
“Of course you will. And it’s probably true that no one else is good enough, which is why, as I’ve said before, you need to just date this boy.”
“Caryn, I’ve told you, we’re--”
“Not like that. Yes, I know, I know. But maybe you should be. He’s obviously very special to you, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same. And I Googled him: cutie pie on top of all of that.”
“Caryn! I cannot believe you Googled Aaron. Okay, I can believe it.” I shook my head at her, but I was laughing. “So, you wanted to see what he looked like?”
“No, I wanted to find a flaw in him.”
“What?” Why in the world would someone go looking for negative information about another person? My emotions vacillated between anger that she would do that and fear of what she found. My previous experience with friends Googling Aaron had not gone well.
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