Never Let Go

by Anne Carol

  “For what? You did nothing wrong. That wanker is asking for it though, if I ever get my hands on him. Were you able to get my letter back?”

  “Yeah, thank God.”

  “He just handed it back to you?”

  “Well, no. Rick sort of grabbed it out of his hands when he shoved Mark against the lockers.” There, I was getting good at this honesty thing.

  He was silent, save for his heavy breathing.

  “And how did Rick know you were in trouble. Was he following you?”

  “No, I think he heard me screaming,” I stated matter-of-factly.

  I heard a loud thump through the phone line and then silence.

  “David, are you alright?” Did he faint?

  There was some rustling around on his end, and I could only assume the phone had been dropped. Finally he came back on the line.

  “I’m alright,” he assured me, after I silently freaked out. “Just suffering a minor heart attack, that’s all.”

  “Why?”

  “Let’s see, because your ex-boyfriend, who abused you in my opinion, is defending you against an even worse piece of rubbish. Need I say more?”

  “No, not when you put it like that. But I really don’t think Mark will bother me anymore. Rick took care of him.”

  “Well, isn’t he quite the hero?”

  I suddenly got it.

  “Is this a jealousy thing? Because if it is, you’re being ridiculous. Would you rather leave me defenseless?”

  “No, of course not! But why him? Why does he have to protect you?”

  “It’s not like I planned it.”

  “I know, but I’m afraid …” He sighed. “Afraid you’re going to forget about everything he’s done to you.”

  “David, that’ll never happen. The way I see it, this is his way of paying me back for all the crap he put me through.”

  “I suppose.”

  “But you’re still not comfortable with it?” I sighed.

  “I’m sorry, but no. It’s not natural, he’s your ex-boyfriend.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, hon.”

  “I don’t mind that he keeps an eye out for you at school, as long as he does it from a distance. Frankly, I’ve seen your feisty side, and other than the more aggressive sods, I think you can take care of yourself.”

  “What? I’m feisty?”

  “You can be.” He chuckled. “But that’s what I love about you. You have a strong spirit. I miss being around you, Beth. The way we fit together, it’s perfect.”

  I took a seat on the floor and leaned against the cupboards “This is so hard. The physical separation, that is. I want to kiss you so much it hurts sometimes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve dreamed about kissing you.”

  “Yeah? I often dream about our afternoon in the country. I can feel you beneath me, your warm breath on my skin and your hands gripping my back, and I can still picture your relaxed expression after …”

  My face was in flames, knowing he dreamed about that. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t dream about that moment of passion between us.

  We did a bit more reminiscing before we finally wrapped up the impromptu phone chat. By the time I hung up, I felt about a thousand times better than before he called. I guess I should’ve expected that the strain of being apart for over a month would get to us, especially when you throw in an ex-boyfriend to complicate things. All I could do was pray that David would relax about everything, and that he’d trust Rick to protect me while respecting my boundaries.

  The following Monday I was sitting on a bench with my nose in a book, nibbling on a granola bar, when Rick came over and took a seat next to me.

  “Hey,” I said, wondering why he was here.

  “Hi.” He took in a deep breath. “So, you’ll never guess who called me last night.”

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “What? David called you? Why?” Oh, no.

  “To tell me to back off, to stay away from you.”

  I gasped. “He didn’t …”

  “Don’t worry, he was polite about it. Just very matter-of-factly explained that the long-distance thing is hard enough without having an ex hanging around.”

  “Unbelievable,” I stated, not knowing how to take this. “How’d he even get your number?”

  “I asked him that, and he said he tracked it down through Information.”

  “Wow, bet that caught you off guard. How did you respond?”

  “I told him I’d give you more space, but that we’d still be working together as lab partners.”

  I bowed my head. “Oh no. I never told him that we were partners. I didn’t think he needed to know.”

  “Yeah, well he knows now. He asked me how it happened, and I told him we were assigned.”

  I sat in silence, my head spinning from this new development.

  “Anyway, I just thought you should know. Hope I didn’t freak you out, Beth.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me.”

  He got up to leave, only to turn around. “Hey, I think that guy really loves you,” he said, and when he did, I couldn’t ignore the hint of sadness in his eyes.

  Guys are the most confusing creatures ever. That was my first thought. I mean, when you want them, they take you for granted; when you don’t want them, they pay you all sorts of attention; and even when things are going well (in your opinion), they do silly things like call your ex-boyfriend for a heart-to-heart. The whole situation made me want to run to my girlfriends and ditch the testosterone party.

  But after thinking about David’s strange, and kind of possessive, behavior, I had to admit I didn’t blame him for what he did. I had my own moments of wondering who was catching his eye, especially when he was performing with his band. The mere thought of my hot boyfriend strumming his guitar turned me on, and I’d be naïve to think I was the only girl who was attracted to him.

  The difference was that I trusted him, and by David taking things into his own hands, it made me feel like he didn’t trust me. Plus, the fact that this was done behind my back didn’t sit well with me. I’d never expected David to be so devious. I didn’t want to take all this as a sign that our relationship wasn’t as firm as I pictured it. Yeah, I struggled with the physical distance, but maybe he was having an even harder time.

  I needed to sort this out with him as soon as possible, so the moment I walked in the door, I asked my mom if I could phone David.

  “Sure, but try to keep it brief, okay? The phone bill last month was astronomical.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She gave me a look that said “you’d better,” and I escaped into my parents’ bedroom to use their extension.

  “I’m glad you phoned,” he said when he picked up the line. “You’re not cross with me, are you?”

  “Not really. I just want to iron out some things with you.”

  “I assume you’ve spoken with Rick?”

  “Yes. He told me about your phone call.”

  “Angel, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I’m afraid I might’ve crossed a line. You must think I’m a lunatic.”

  “Well, that might be a stretch. No, the only thing that bothers me is that it feels like you don’t trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Beth. I don’t trust him. The mere fact that he’s around you every day, let alone that he’s come to your rescue on multiple occasions, makes me uneasy. Try putting yourself in my shoes.”

  “I have. I imagine all the girls at your music performances more than I care to.”

  “But what if my ex was showing up to all of my gigs?”

  Crap, he’s got me there.

  “I’d be a basket case.”

  “Now do you understand why I want him to keep his distance?”

  “Of course.” It made sense once he brought up his ex. I’m pretty sure if she was making the moves on David and I had access to her number, I’d be giving her a “back off, bitch” phone call. “I
f Josephine made a pass at you, I probably wouldn’t be as polite as you were with Rick.”

  “That’s my girl.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about that. My heart belongs to you.”

  “And mine to you. I promise I will not let Rick get under my skin, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks for not being angry.”

  I wasn’t angry with him, but I had a feeling that until we were on the same continent, there would be an undercurrent of trust issues, for both of us. But I planned on doing everything I could to prove to David that he was the only one for me. And that meant keeping my distance from Rick.

  I also wrote him frequent letters, including pictures and even short stories every so often. He, in turn, sent me beautiful love letters which were often accompanied by pictures of his mom’s roses. He said that this was his way of sending me flowers. There was no questioning our love and commitment to each other, even though our phone calls were a bit strained. I longed for the kind of connection we had the last night I was in London.

  As October chugged along, I was approaching the two-month mark of leaving David’s side. I’d almost forgotten the smoothness of his skin, the texture of his hair, and his distinct scent. Melissa and Susie knew that I was desperately lonely for David and wanted to cheer me up, but I tried not to complain openly, since I was the one who chose to pursue a long-distance relationship.

  Still, the ample time I spent reading and writing letters, doodling David’s name on my notebook, and staring off into space was obvious to them. Perhaps they missed a little of the “old” Beth, the one who was content being a part of the high school community, rather than constantly looking ahead to next year when I could be with the man I loved.

  Then I recalled something my mom said about enjoying my girlfriends while I could, that after this year there was no telling how often we’d be together, if at all. So I made a conscious decision to make more time, physically and mentally, for my friends here. I needed to establish a suitable balance between maintaining my relationship with David and investing in the friendships I hoped to keep for life.

  Melissa and Susie were important to me—important enough that when they told me they were taking me out for a fun night the last weekend in October, I didn’t even ask where, I just knew I had to go. I had in mind a disco club or something, so I dressed in casual but sexy evening clothes, and of course, wore my dancing shoes.

  But when my two best friends appeared at my door dressed like rocker chicks, I got the idea we weren’t going dancing.

  “Where are you guys taking me?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’ll see. I think you’ll like it,” Melissa answered cryptically.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Alright, I trust you two.”

  As we drove through the center of town and entered a strip mall, my eye caught the sign of a local bar and grill known for its great live music.

  “Danny’s, huh?” I questioned. “Who’s playing tonight?”

  “A band called Firefly. I overheard a girl in my English class talking about this gig. Her boyfriend is the lead singer.”

  “So, what kind of music is it?”

  “What else? Punk rock.” She looked radiant, like she couldn’t wait to tell me.

  Ah, now I understood. They were trying to bring me a little of David by going to hear “his” music. I was touched by their thoughtful gesture, so much so that tears nagged at my eyes.

  Now the real test would be whether I could sit through the show without bawling my eyes out. Inevitably, the event brought to mind David, which made my heart yearn for him. I had to remember that I was here to spend quality time with my friends, and I wasn’t about to spoil the mood with my drippy eyes.

  Unfortunately, I forgot all that by the second song.

  It didn’t help that the guitarist was a dead ringer for David. I couldn’t help but stare at him; and when he noticed me fixated on him, he gave me a huge smile, just like David would.

  That did it, I had to get out of there. I jumped up from the table, nearly knocking the chair over, mumbled a “sorry,” and tore out of the room before my friends could stop me.

  Bursting through the door, I began charging across the street, when out of nowhere I heard screeching tires and was nearly blinded by headlights. Bracing for the impact, I froze in my tracks and shrieked at the top of my lungs.

  I love you, David.

  Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing. Am I dead?

  Then I heard a man shouting, “Hey, miss, get out of the road! What are you, crazy?”

  I slowly opened my eyes. There I was, standing in the middle of the street, staring at a car that was literally inches from grazing my knees.

  “Beth! Oh my gosh!” Susie’s hysterical voice called out.

  Within seconds, I was being led back to the sidewalk by my two hyperventilating friends, in addition to a third party—the guitarist from the band. Great.

  Apparently my hasty exit and near death experience caused a side show that completely disrupted the gig. I’d never been more embarrassed, especially since there was a crowd of people watching me lose my mind.

  “Are you okay?” the unnamed band member asked. My friends, meanwhile, appeared to be in shock.

  Upon looking at him, I decided he didn’t really look like David after all. David was much hotter.

  “Uh, I … I’m fine. Thanks,” I stuttered. I turned to Melissa, who’d driven us here, and mouthed, “Can we please leave?”

  I wanted to disappear; I couldn’t deal with what just happened.

  Thankfully, once Melissa and Susie calmed down and took me to the car, the band members and other bystanders went back inside to resume the show. No harm, no foul.

  I, however, was so mortified and upset I didn’t speak the whole way to Melissa’s house. The two of them looked at me with such “poor you” expressions, it was almost nauseating.

  “When we get inside, I’m making you the biggest hot fudge sundae ever, okay Beth?” Melissa announced through the rearview mirror.

  I almost laughed. Just as the English solved everything with a cup of tea, Melissa smoothed things over with her famous ice cream sundaes. Hey, whatever worked.

  “Just let it out, Beth,” Susie encouraged, as we huddled around the kitchen table with our sundaes. “I know you’ve been holding a lot in, but it’s okay, it’s just us. Stop trying to be strong.”

  Susie was rarely this blunt, so I knew she meant business. Consequently, my friends got an earful as I spent all evening baring my soul to them, mourning the separation from David. And they, being the wonderful friends they were, sat patiently and listened as I let it out.

  We were all in a group hug when I noticed the clock and saw that it was almost curfew. I was sad the evening had to end, yet grateful that I’d made time for them. Even if the first half ended badly, it was a night to remember because it made me realize how valuable my friendships were. Who else but the truest friends would sit around and listen to you whine about missing your boyfriend? Those girls deserved a gold medal for sitting through my meltdown.

  When I got home, I tried to slip in under the radar to avoid any questions about my red eyes.

  “Oh, hi, dear.” Mom greeted me from the kitchen as she stood in her nightgown drinking tea.

  So much for sneaking in.

  “How was your time with the girls? And where did you go?” Mom followed me down the hall.

  “Um …” I tried to keep from looking directly at her. “Went to hear a band, then hung out most of the night at Melissa’s.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Alright, sounds fun.” She leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Good night, honey.”

  “’Night, Mom.” Crisis averted.

  “Hey! How’s it going, cousin?” It’d been several weeks since I talked to Jenny, and I wanted to check in with her. She was sort of my eyes and ears, keeping tabs on David. Though last time we chatted she’d only seen him in passing, so there wasn’t much to tell.

  “Fantastic,”
Jenny’s typical bouncy voice answered. “So did you go out last night?”

  “Yeah, I went out with some friends.” I didn’t want to elaborate on my dramatic exit from the music show for fear she’d blab it to David.

  “I went out, too,” she said with a hint of mystery. “Know where I went?”

  “Where?”

  “A group of us went to see Vinyl Fog perform at a little club.”

  I sucked in my breath. “You did? How’d they sound?”

  “Fabulous. They’ve got several new songs, and two of them are about you.”

  “Really? How do you know they were about me?”

  “Let’s see … one’s called ‘Garden Valley Girl’, and the other is ‘An Ocean Away.’”

  “Yeah, I’d say those are David-written songs. Oh, wow.” I felt tingles up my spine. “Did you get a chance to talk to him?”

  “As much as I could.” She sighed, and then her tone became serious. “Beth, he’s not himself.”

  My stomach fell. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, as soon as he saw me, his demeanor changed. He looked lost. His performance was still fantastic, of course, but … he seems depressed. I think he really misses you.”

  I didn’t know whether to thank her for telling me or scold her for putting more worries on my shoulders. But then she went on, “It wouldn’t hurt to produce a few more love letters for your sweet man. I think he’d appreciate it.”

  “I’ll flood his mailbox.”

  Life had been busy over the past week with schoolwork and a project for the literary society, so I’d fallen off on my letter writing. Wanting to put a smile back on his face, I wrote to him every day for the next few weeks. Maybe it was a little overkill, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him being depressed. Of course, about two weeks into my letter campaign, which was a week after he’d started getting them, David made a comment.

  “Are you really that bored? I hope you’re not neglecting your mates.”

  “No, I’m not.” In fact, my friends and I were closer than ever after that Friday night incident. “I just like writing to you. I can stop if you want.”