Tell Me Not to Go

by Victoria De La O

  “Aren’t we just torturing ourselves, dragging it out?”

  “No day with you is torture.”

  She turns into me and holds me tight. I love the feel of her arms around me, like she has to try extra hard to reach.

  “I want you to be there when I graduate. Is that selfish?”

  “No,” I say. “I want to be there, too.”

  “Twenty days, then.” She sounds dejected.

  I don’t feel any better than she does. So, I make love to her in the fort, because it’s the most truthful thing I can do.

  Chapter 23: Sam

  7 Days Left

  “Does this dress make my ass look big?” I eyeball my profile in the mirror, inspecting the way the bright blue fabric of my dress clings to my rear.

  Lizzie purses her lips as she looks me up and down. “Yep. Like two juicy summer peaches.”

  “Excellent.”

  Lizzie high fives me. “You nervous about meeting everyone?”

  I try to stop my eye roll. “Can you blame me? Based on what I’ve seen so far . . .”

  All of Jeff’s coworkers and clients will be at this party. Let’s hope my mouth doesn’t get ahead of my brain, and that I don’t have to resuscitate anyone tonight.

  “Just smile and nod and eat all the amazing food.”

  Lizzie fidgets with my hair, and I let her. Sometimes when I’m with Lizzie I get a glimpse of what I’ve missed out on by not having a sister or brother. If I married Jeff, Lizzie would be my sister. I crush that thought so hard that my neck goes tense from the strain.

  “My brother is going to wet his pants when he sees you in this dress,” Lizzie says, pulling me from the edge of a meltdown.

  “That’s the goal.”

  It reminded me of Jeff the minute I tried it on—conservative in the front, almost nonexistent in the back. A little safe, a lot exciting.

  Lizzie is smiling, but her thoughts are elsewhere, and her expressions is shuttered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looks away. “Nothing.”

  I pull gently on her blond ponytail. “Spill it.”

  “What are you two doing? What’s the plan here?”

  I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”

  I understand exactly what she means, and she knows it. But this is the last topic I want to talk about.

  “You’re graduating in a week. You’ve been spending every night together. And now you’re just going to let each other go?” She grabs my brush off the dresser and fiddles with it.

  “We have to. You know that.”

  Lizzie’s scowl makes her look like an angry toddler. “I don’t know that. You could make it work somehow.”

  “Lizzie . . .”

  “I know. Neither of you believe you want a commitment—probably because you’re both scared. But I hate this. You’re in denial about how much it’s going to hurt. You both are.”

  A burning lodges in my chest, but I push the pain away. “Then let us be in denial. Let us enjoy the time we have left together.”

  Lizzie nods, defeated. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

  “I know.”

  She throws the brush down and pulls me in for a hug. “Okay. Then go blow his mind.”

  It doesn’t literally blow his mind, but the dress does make Jeff go a little stupid when he sees the back. He keeps running his hand down my bare skin like he can’t help himself. Credit card debt—totally worth it.

  “Wow, this place is so cool,” I say, the Presidio stretched out around us.

  Jeff’s work party is in the Log Cabin building, which is exactly that. It used to be part of the army post, but now the Presidio is a national park. Weathered, exposed beams run the length of the room, while candles flicker in glass jam jars on sturdy wood tables. There is a large dance floor, where people dance to live music.

  But it’s the outside that steals the show, because in the distance are the star-bright lights of San Francisco. The evening is just warm enough to mingle outside and enjoy the breeze coming off the bay.

  Jeff wraps his arm around me, keeping me toasty.

  “Hey, Tyler,” Jeff says, as a good-looking middle-aged man approaches us. This guy could be in one of those erection ads, where attractive, rich old couples stroll hand in hand on the beach—their jeans rolled up at the cuffs. Shut it down, girl.

  “Glad you made it. I want you to meet the guys from Qualify.” Tyler turns to me. “Sorry to dive right into work talk.”

  “This is my girlfriend, Sam,” Jeff says, his hand moving to my lower back. That little gesture, combined with his use of the word ‘girlfriend’ makes my brain go lights out for a second.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” I manage to say as Tyler takes my hand.

  “Pleasure’s all mine. Jeff’s one of our best. Utah’s loss was our gain.”

  “You don’t need to sell me,” Jeff laughs. “Sam is my sister’s best friend. She already knows the ugly details.”

  Tyler winks at me and turns back to Jeff. “You’re a brave man. Speaking of which, I need to go find my wife. She’s talking to Carter’s wife, and those two can get crazy.”

  “Well, he’s a charmer,” I say as Tyler maneuvers toward a beautiful fifty-something brunette in a red dress. She’s Viagra ad material, for sure.

  “There’s a reason he’s so successful. He’s nice as hell but also brilliant.” Jeff pulls me closer to him. “You developing a thing for older men, Samantha?”

  I like when he calls me that, because it’s what he usually calls me in bed. He totally knows it, too, which is why he’s giving me sexy eyes. It feels a lot warmer under this dress.

  “I’m already with an older man.”

  He squeezes my waist. “Brat.”

  “Long time no see,” a voice behind me says.

  It’s Eli, with Rebecca in tow. I’m relieved to see these particular familiar faces.

  Rebecca straightens the strap of her short silver dress. “Can you blame her after that shit show in Tahoe?”

  Eli’s been asking us to go out with them since we got back. I’m not avoiding them because of how the trip went. I just feel bad making couple’s friends when Jeff and I aren’t a real couple.

  The dance floor is full by the time we get back inside. I see Rajiv and Alyssa out there, right next to Keller. He’s dancing crotch to crotch with a blonde in a strapless dress that’s held up by a pair of grade-A hooters and a prayer. She seems right up Keller’s alley—almost literally—and I do a mental high five with Andrea for getting that monkey off her back.

  Speaking of which, Andrea is at the buffet table, which is where I need to be.

  When Jeff gets engrossed in a discussion with a client, I make my escape. Then I do what Lizzie told me and get way too much food. I figure the number of spring rolls I’m eating is just between me, the caterers, and my creator.

  “Hi, Sam.” Andrea says.

  Her hair is in a perfect bun, her long white gown spotless. If I wore white, it would look like a Jackson Pollock within an hour.

  “This is quite a spread.” I take one more spring roll to be safe.

  “Yeah. Lots of business gets done at these things, so they go all out.”

  I stare at Jeff as he schmoozes with a young hipster guy who’s probably a millionaire. Jeff’s not very animated as he talks. Instead, he leans in with complete focus. He looks good in his blue suit, with the crisp white shirt underneath. His shoulders look wider, his waist narrower.

  As I start to conjure naughty boardroom fantasies, I notice Andrea is staring at Keller, who’s grinding on the dance floor with his hands in interesting places.

  “Classy,” Andrea says, shaking her head.

  “Yeah. Nice thing is, she won’t have to get a mammogram for a while.”

  “What the hell was I thinking?” Andrea covers her mouth as she laughs. Her laughter turns desperate, though, and she starts to shake.

  “You okay?”

  She pats her lips with her napkin.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry, by the way. For getting in your face the night Keller went to the hospital. I didn’t know you were pre-med.”

  “No worries. I was mostly faking it anyway.”

  She shakes her head. “You were not. Jeff said you got into UCLA. That’s impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  I should probably hate Andrea, but it’s not her fault she wants Jeff. Who wouldn’t? Except, once I’m out of the picture, what’s to stop her from getting him? Nothing, that’s what.

  I set down my plate, the spring rolls suddenly inedible.

  As I head back to Jeff, Keller blocks my way.

  “Hey there, Steff.”

  I give him the widest smile possible. “Hi, Terry.”

  “You know damn well what my name is.”

  “And you know mine. Probably hard to forget the girl who slapped you several times in one night.”

  “I only remember the first one. And barely.”

  “That’s not an excuse.”

  He shrugs, his slick hair brushing against his shoulder. “Wasn’t making one. You’re too uptight.”

  He scans my body, and I reflexively cross my arms, which is annoying.

  “What can I do for you, Keller?”

  His eyes are still roaming. “Nothing.”

  “Then you should go back to your date.”

  “Yeah, she’s something, isn’t she? But she’s not permanent. Because I’m moving up, just like your man.” He gestures to Jeff, who’s still across the room. “And we won’t get loaded down with dead weight.”

  Keller smiles at me, but it’s nasty and toothy like a shark’s.

  “If it hadn’t been for me that night in Tahoe, the dead weight might have been you. Right about now I’m wishing I had let you drown in your own vomit.”

  I tip my water over and it lands on Keller’s crotch. He jumps back, his face full of thunder.

  “Whoops. Looks like you pissed yourself. Again.”

  And then I’m gone, heading toward Jeff, angry that I’m thinking of him as sanctuary. I want to get away from Keller—from the arrogance and the entitlement. The absolute “I-could-give-a-shit-less-about-others” mentality that sometimes increases with people’s incomes. When I go, this will still be Jeff’s world, and they will be the better for it. Because he will never be a Keller. He will be so much more.

  Except I won’t know how it all turns out, because I won’t be a part of Jeff’s story anymore.

  I smile and nod the rest of the night, but I’ve met so many people I don’t remember their names, and my heart isn’t in the small talk. It feels like everything is closing in on me—that this place and these people are killing precious minutes.

  “What’s up?” Jeff asks when I forget to nod in the right place during our conversation—again.

  “Nothing. Just distracted.”

  “We haven’t even danced yet. Let’s get to it,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me to the dance floor.

  He feels good against me—right. Like we were molded to fit together. We sway to a slow jazz song as he strokes his hands down my back. I’ll miss his hands, his smile, the way he looks at me like he’s excited I’m there. I won’t miss the times he shakes his head when I swear, or puts his hands on his hips when he gets annoyed.

  Except I will. I’ll miss that, too. Because someone else will be at the receiving end of his disapproval, his affection, and his annoyance, and I’ll be in LA, studying all day and night, going after my dream. Alone. Again.

  I want to cry—know I will any minute, in fact. And dammit, I don’t cry often, so I think I’ve earned it. I pull back and excuse myself to go cry in the bathroom alone. But when I’m almost there, a hand grabs my elbow and stops me.

  Jeff spins me around. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I open my eyes wider to stop the tears. I’ll be damned if I cry now. “Nothing.”

  “Like hell.” He takes my face in his hands. “You are a terrible liar. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

  I draw in a breath, but it’s no use. A tear tracks down my cheek. “Don’t.”

  He wipes my tear away with his knuckle.

  “There’s never enough time,” he says, finally catching on.

  I nod, because I can’t get words out. But what could I say to make this better, anyway?

  He takes my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You need to stay.”

  “We’ve been here long enough. C’mon.”

  Jeff leads us out, making sure to say good-bye to Tyler on the way. We drive in silence, Jeff holding my hand the entire way. We get to his house and he still doesn’t say a word. Instead, we slip off our shoes and climb the ladder to the loft.

  Then he fills the silence. The unzipping of a dress. A jacket hitting the floor. The rasp of fingers coasting over my cheek.

  “You were the most beautiful woman in the room,” he whispers, as he holds me.

  Just an embrace, nothing more.

  I will miss this most of all.

  Chapter 24: Jeff

  Last Day

  My favorite ladies are graduating today—my sister and my girlfriend.

  Except tomorrow, Sam won’t be my girlfriend anymore. And that’s unacceptable.

  It’s hard to know how losing someone will affect you until they’re gone, but I try anyway. The crater that she’ll leave is huge—like the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. No one to make a running commentary while I’m trying to watch a movie. No silky, dark hair skimming through my fingers. No smartass forcing me to laugh at myself when I’m being too stiff.

  Who in their right mind puts an exact expiration date on a relationship? Except I wasn’t in my right mind. I was burned out on passionless, long-term relationships. And I wanted Sam bad, worse than I even knew.

  For some ridiculous reason, I thought in ninety days we’d run our course. That, like all the other girls I’ve been with, I’d realize I was in a rut. That she wasn’t what I wanted, and I was going through the motions as I always do.

  Obviously, I was a moron of epic proportions.

  And now I can’t go and she can’t stay, and neither of us wants to try and maintain a relationship with someone who’s hundreds of miles away. So, we are at an end. But I have to believe I can convince her to keep seeing me until she leaves in July. We’d be stupid not to grab all the time we have left together.

  And then what? the voice in my head asks.

  Back to focusing on work, back to serious, back to boring. Because it’s not only Sam that’s exciting. When I’m with her, I’m more fun by default. Without her, my days will be bleaker, my nights will be emptier.

  But today is about her and Lizzie, so my feelings don’t factor into it.

  I get a text from Jude explaining where he is in the audience. Mercifully, he got to Spartan Stadium early to save seats—a lot of them. Because what Lizzie doesn’t know is that I flew my whole family out here to see her graduate—both of my parents, and our three other brothers.

  Dad insists on driving Mom to the graduation in his rental car, of course, and I take the boys—David, Carson, and Michael. We all meet in the parking area and navigate through the hordes of people flowing into the stadium.

  “There are as many people here as live in our whole town,” David says.

  “The crowds have been a big adjustment,” I admit.

  “How do you get anything done here?” Dad grumbles, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket. He probably hasn’t worn one since my graduation.

  “Carl, stop griping,” Mom says, looking pretty in a purple dress. I’ve always been envious that Lizzie got Mom’s green eyes. “And thank Jeff for flying us here to see our little girl graduate.”

  That’s a huge ask. Getting my dad to admit he needs help is like asking him to swallow glass. But Dad’s job in manufacturing has never afforded him, or our family, many extras, and the cost of this trip would have been a hardship.

  Dad nods and pats me on the shou
lder with one heavy-duty hand. “You know I appreciate it.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. What is it about this man that has always held such power over me? One nice word from him and I get choked up.

  “You doing okay out here?” he asks as we walk.

  “Yeah. I miss you guys. But it’s nice having some space.”

  His lips stay closed when he grins. “I can understand that. Why do you think I lived so far from your grandparents?”

  I spot Jude’s elevated head peeking over the top of the crowd, and we fight our way through the row to join him. Sam’s parents are there, along with Angel and other friends. Between us, we take up most of a long row.

  The cheering as the girls cross the stage is deafening, especially when Jude makes liberal use of his air horn. Lizzie looks out at us as she crosses the stage, but probably can’t see past the glare of the sun. Sam’s in on the secret, though.

  And then, there’s my girl. Crossing the stage like she owns it, her head held high, flashing the audience a peace sign. I look over and see Divina wiping a tear from Joe’s eye.

  It’s a madhouse trying to get to the girls after the ceremony, but we finally manage it. When Lizzie sees everyone, she drops her cap on the ground and covers her face. Mom grabs her and hugs her, and Lizzie “loses her shit,” as Sam would say. When Lizzie gets to me, she starts hitting me on the shoulder, hard.

  “You did this,” she says, tears in her eyes. “You jerk.” And then she hugs me.

  I see Sam watching us with a melancholy smile on her face, so I go over and scoop her into my arms.

  “There are so many of you,” she whispers. “Not like the Duggars or anything. But sort of like the Brady Bunch.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but congratulations.”

  And then I kiss her in front of her parents and mine, and sure enough, my dad lifts his eyebrow at me as we’re leaving. There is a ton of meanings in that gesture—all of which I ignore.

  Jude wanted to throw a huge party for the girls, and as we spill inside his house, I see he has outdone himself. There is a huge banner on his front door, colorful balloons and flowers strewn throughout the place, and a heap of catered Mexican food on the table.