Anything Less Than Everything

by Adkins, Heather

  “Well, honey, it’s just that no one is perfect, but you seem to think this young man is. Your feelings for him, platonic though they may be, make it hard for you to see his bad points.”

  She was right, and I had thought about this. Surely Aaron had issues beyond talking in his sleep or whatever else Brandon had mentioned on the phone that night, but I kind of liked him perfect, even if it was an illusion.

  “I’m just afraid,” Caryn continued, “that one day you’re going to discover something wrong with him and be terribly disappointed.”

  Good point. I’d never thought about it that way. He knew my flaws, I think, but I’d never really asked him about his, probably because I just didn’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss and all that.

  “So what did you find?” I asked.

  “Nothing. He really does seem as perfect as you think he is. And that means one of two things,” I looked up at her. “Either he is, as you think, perfect, in which case you should be dating that boy and making him fall in love with you, or he’s hiding something big.”

  “And which do you think it is?” I asked. I was nervous for her answer. Aaron hiding something had never occurred to me. I mean, I didn’t think I knew everything about him, but that’s not the same as hiding.

  “Option one,” she said, sighing. “I’m a pretty good judge of character, and everything I read about him matches up with what you have said about him. He seems like a genuinely good person. A person so good he would call your sister’s boyfriend and have him wait for you in the parking lot when you got off work and call your boss to ask her to keep an eye out for your lousy ex-boyfriend.”

  My eyes drifted out the door, and sure enough, there was Dave’s car parked right next to mine. Warmth filled my heart at this gesture--from both Aaron and Dave--and I smiled, embarrassed.

  “So,” Caryn said, “have a great trip. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winked at me as she moved toward the back room.

  A message on my BEsocial page that night said only “six days.” The next morning I added one to his page that said, “five days.” Friends kept commenting, asking what was happening in however many days, but we ignored them.

  Chapter 19

  Each night Aaron and I would talk, and each night I would get more and more excited about seeing him.

  The night before he was going to leave, two nights before I did, we had an intense conversation about what we each wanted out of life.

  “I just want to be that teacher for some kid,” I said. You know, the one you think of years later as a person who impacted your life in some great way.”

  “You want to be remembered,” Aaron said. I thought about it for a second before replying.

  “Not necessarily. I mean, being remembered goes along with it, but I just want to shape kids’ thoughts. If they become better human beings but can’t remember my name, that’s okay.”

  “So do you think you’ll always teach?” he asked.

  “I guess so,” I said. “I never considered not teaching. It’s what I have always wanted to do. They’ll probably have to cart me out between fourth and fifth periods when I’m ninety,” I added.

  “See, that’s something I’m jealous of,” he said.

  “You’re jealous of me potentially spending my entire adulthood working? You’ll be able to retire at thirty and never need to work again.”

  “Well, that’s it, kinda. I know I can’t just have one career. I mean, football has a pretty definite expiration date on it. What happens after that?”

  “Whatever you want to,” I answered. “Or nothing at all. All those million dollar paychecks from the NFL might not be able to buy happiness, but they do give you options.” He considered this for a minute.

  “Okay, Brooke. So if you made millions a year, would you still teach?”

  “Today? Yes. But later, when I had kids or something? Well, like I said, options.”

  “So if money weren’t an option, you’d be a stay at home mom?”

  “Not necessarily. I guess it would depend on a lot of things, but money wouldn’t have to be one of them. Think of it this way: if you had five million dollars in your hand right now, what would you do with your life? No football required.”

  “If I said ‘talk to you,’ would that be too corny?”

  “Yes,” I said, making sure my eye roll could be felt across the phone lines, “but it would also be flattering.”

  “Okay, so a little less dramatically, I’d just do things that made the people who are important to me happy. Like for you, I might buy books for all your students.” (Which I’m pretty sure is both #22 Respects me and my ideas and #23 Values learning.) “I’d help Sara start a photography business, build Maggie the ultimate playground.”

  The more he talked, the more nervous and excited and every other emotion possible I felt about our visit. The butterfly flutters Aaron sometimes caused had been growing steadily over the last couple of weeks, and it was all I could do to shove them away. He needs a flaw, I thought, thinking of Caryn’s warning to me. Something to bring me back to reality.

  “You’re making me feel like a materialistic moron,” I said.

  “What? How?” he said. He sounded genuinely shocked. Maybe even hurt.

  “You will most likely be a bajillionaire this time next year, and you’re only thinking of how to spend it on others. I’m all for philanthropy, but if I’m being honest, my first thought would probably be a new car. Something European. Possibly a convertible. So now I feel about two feet tall. And don’t apologize,” I said before he could.

  “You know me too well, Brooke. And for the record, I probably would buy myself a new car, too.” Now I could tell he was smiling, as I’m pretty sure he often did at my little outbursts.

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad to know you have at least one almost flaw.’

  “Just one?” he asked.

  “Almost one,” I answered. “I’m still waiting for an actual one to show up.”

  “You’re funny,” he said. “I have more than enough flaws. Plenty.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I pressed. “Name them. And sneaking around behind your best friend’s back to set up personal security doesn’t count.”

  He sighed. “I asked Dave to be discreet. Okay, then, my biggest flaw is that I’m over protective. Sara is probably glad we don’t live in the same state, otherwise no guy would dare ask her out.”

  “Not a flaw,” I said.

  “It could be.”

  “Nope, endearing. Try again.” He paused for several seconds. At first I thought he was trying to think of a flaw, but then I realized he was more likely trying to decide how to say whatever was on his mind.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “This may come as a surprise, but I have almost no self-confidence. Nada. I doubt myself constantly. In fact, I’m doubting whether I should be telling you this right now.” This did come as a surprise. Aaron was expected to have a stellar season as the captain of one of the most highly rated football teams in the country. He was almost certain to be drafted into the NFL. What did he have to doubt about himself?

  He took my silence as an invitation to keep going. “My success has not come easily, and I’m terrified of failing, of letting people down, but more than that, of letting people see me fail. I’m really self conscious.”

  “Which is why you hate seeing yourself on TV.”

  “Yep.”

  Another thought came to me. “And why you don’t date.”

  “Yep again. I don’t trust people not to hurt me. The more distance I keep between myself and others, the less chance they can do that.”

  “But what about--”

  “You?” he finished for me. “You I cannot explain. I never really intended to become close to you, to let you in, but I guess my over protective side was stronger than my scared side that night I first called you.

  “Over protective?” I asked.

  “Those two days I spent with you, I watched you hurt with no one to help
you. I couldn’t believe what your family members were saying about you and to you, what that idiot ex of yours did, and you seemed so alone in all of it. I wanted to protect you from that hurt, like I would for my sisters (okay, not really what I wanted to hear). But as I did that, I didn’t really anticipate becoming friends with you. I mean, I was leaving the next day. So I shared some things with you hoping to make you feel better. You were safe because there was an automatic distance between us.”

  “So you only hung out with me that night because you knew it wouldn’t matter?” I asked the question slowly, my stomach in knots, afraid of the words he would speak. Afraid that our entire friendship was based only on the fact that it didn’t matter.

  “No! I mean, part of my ease in talking to you was that if I came across as an idiot, I wouldn’t have to face you later, but it was sincere, Brooke. I promise.”

  I knew it was, of course. Something didn’t add up, though.

  “But you called me,” I said at last.

  “I know.”

  “Why?” I was nervous, afraid I wouldn’t like the answer. My mind ran through all of our conversations over the past few weeks. Could I trust them? Yes. Just like I knew Aaron was sincere in his desire to protect me, I knew also that our friendship was real. Yet I feared his next words.

  “I’m not really sure, Brooke. Once we were apart, I felt it, you know? The absence? I needed to know you were okay, needed to know more about you. And the more I got to know you, the more impossible it became to say goodbye.” He paused. “But before you start thinking that me calling a girl I barely know disproves my feelings of inadequacy, you should know that I did dial your number three times before I got up the nerve to press send.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But I’m glad I did.”

  “Me, too.” Wow. What if he hadn’t called? What would this summer have looked like? But now Caryn’s idea of him hiding something crept into my mind. “So, the take charge Aaron I know, the guy who’s cool and calm with the press, are you saying that’s just an act?”

  He thought about this for a second before answering. “No. Especially not with you. I never feel the need to be someone I’m not when I’m talking to you. But it doesn’t come naturally for me. I really have to work at being confident in my decisions, around people.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “Interesting.”

  “That’s all I get?” he asked.

  “I’m trying to decide what to think of all this new information,” I said.

  “Maybe that you’re relieved now that I am in fact a real person so we can still be friends. That’s what I hope. What I’m scared of is that you’ll hang up.”

  “Oh, please, Aaron.” But I was relieved because I now felt a little less embarrassed about all the times I was afraid I’d scared him off. And even this supposed “flaw” gave me another opportunity to know him better, to understand him. His fear that I would be upset over his conversation with Spencer made more sense now, and also the fact that he’d called from football camp, but never suggested getting together.

  After we hung up--earlier than usual since he was driving home the next day--I decided to start packing. For some reason I always start with my carryon bag. I found a magazine and the book I was reading to put in there, and then looked around for my notebook. It was in the drawer of the bedside table, with the list marking my place. Since I had been thinking of it a little while earlier, I opened the paper and scanned the items. I had still not found anyone with all of those qualities (not that I had really looked), and I still had not found one quality that Aaron did not possess. Shove. Feelings. Down.

  Just before I folded the list back up, though, something at the bottom caught my eye. It looked like another item, a number fifty-seven, that I must have erased for some reason. I held it up to the light, squinting to make out the indentations in the paper, gasping when I realized what it said.

  #57: loves football.

  And that’s when I knew/realized/admitted/whatever: I was in love with Aaron Davidson.

  Chapter 20

  This knowledge could have led me to several different scenarios. 1. I could tell Aaron how I felt. 2. I could wait for the feelings to pass (yeah, right). 3. I could do absolutely nothing. I decided to go with option three.

  Here’s the thing: I was in love with Aaron. I knew that with the same certainty that I knew I’d never have a class where every student had their homework. But that knowledge had nothing to do with his feelings for me. Aaron was not in love with me, and if I told him about my feelings, or acted on them in any way, the best that I could hope for would be extreme awkwardness. The worst case (and most likely) scenario is that our friendship would end. And that wasn’t an option. I had to have Aaron in my life, so I was going to have to shove those feelings down (again) and ignore today’s realization. And while I was very aware of the fact that doing so would mean keeping something from Aaron, something important, I really had no choice.

  Someday I would find someone else. So would he. In the meantime, I decided, I would just act like I always had with Aaron.

  Except I wasn’t sure that was possible.

  Aaron texted me when he arrived in Wisconsin. I was thankful for the format: I could choose my words carefully, revise as needed, and avoid those sounds and pauses that Aaron would definitely pick up on as weird. He was going to dinner with his family and playing a pick-up game with some high school buddies. With no phone call to occupy my time, my brain took over. I couldn’t not think about him. Seeing his profile picture on BEsocial sent pleasant shivers through me. But I could do it. I could be Aaron’s best friend--a role I had cherished all summer. That was becoming my new mantra. A mantra I repeated to myself most of the night while I was not sleeping.

  I must have drifted off at some point, though, because the phone ringing the next morning woke me. I pawed around on the table until I found it, then answered groggily.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Ugh. He was not going to make this easy. “Late night?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “How’s the family?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Wonderful. Maggie is driving me nuts asking when you’re going to get here.” Now my butterflies were changing from lovey-dovey ones to oh-crap ones. Not only did I have to play it cool with Aaron, but I also had to impress his five-year-old sister. No easy task.

  “I hope I don’t disappoint,” I said. There was no humor in my voice; I was nervous.

  “You? Disappoint? Impossible. Besides, I probably won’t share you enough for it to matter. If I only get to see my best friend for a couple of days, I’m going to take full advantage of it.” Best friend. Yes, best friend.

  “I can’t wait,” I said. And I couldn’t. Even though I was nervous about my ability to convince us both that my feelings for him were completely platonic, I was beyond excited to see Aaron again. It felt like two years since I had seen him, not two months. And I kept forgetting that I had actually only spent a few hours in his company.

  “So what are your plans today while you can’t wait to see me?” I laughed. Aaron didn’t show his silly side all that often, which made it even funnier when he did. It seemed sharing more about himself during our last call had given him the confidence he claimed he lacked.

  “Work. Last minute errands. Dinner with Jill. Hopefully sleep.”

  “She taking you to the airport?”

  “Yeah. She’s spending the night so I don’t have to worry about her being late. She is not happy about the time of her wake up call.”

  “Tell her it’s my fault,” he said.

  “Oh, I already did,” I teased back, and Aaron laughed.

  “Do I get to talk to you tonight?” he asked. “Or do you have too much going on?”

  “Of course you get to talk to me,” I said. “I’ll be home by eight. Call me whenever.”

  “Good,” he said. “Hey, Brooke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “One. More. Day.” He hun
g up before I had time to reply.

  I spent the rest of the day running. I spent a few hours at Dwell, setting up some new displays. Caryn hugged me as I was about to leave, telling me to have a great time. From there I snuck in a workout as an attempt to relieve some stress, then picked up some last minute things at the store. Next were mani-pedis with Marcie and dinner with Jill (the least I could do was buy). When I finally made it home, I went straight to my room to pack.

  Being at home was a relief. Each person I’d spent time with that day had questioned--no interrogated--me about my true reasons for going to Wisconsin. It’s not that they didn’t believe me about the conference, but they doubted it had anything to do with my excitement.

  Well, they were right about that.

  I’d been brushing off such questions all summer, but before denial that I felt anything but friendship for Aaron had been true; now it wasn’t, and the questions were making me squirm.

  “Just don’t forget that I need you here,” Caryn had said. “I can’t have you running off to wherever to follow some guy.”

  I’d rolled my eyes. “Aaron is my friend. I’ve told you that a million times,” I said.

  “Yes, honey, but that is one gorgeous man. I wouldn’t be able to stay just friends with a fine looking specimen like that. And I’m afraid all that talking and not seeing him has made you forget that.”

  I hadn’t forgotten. Not many items on my list focused on looks, but I was certain that Aaron would #53, look sexy in a baseball cap. Hopefully he wouldn’t wear one while I was visiting.

  “It’s not relevant,” I said. “Aaron is my best friend. Dating him would just ruin it, so why bother?” It was the closest to telling anyone about my feelings for Aaron I’d come, and my cheeks reddened at the revelation.

  “All I’m saying, Brooke, is to go with the flow. Don’t hide your feelings. It will only mess things up in the end.” I’d nodded, but I knew that not hiding my feelings is what would ruin things. And it wasn’t really about hiding my feelings, it was about ignoring them until they went away.