by Ginger Scott
Ty filled Cass in for me, and if she’s heard anything from Rowe, she’s keeping it a secret. She comes in while Ty and I slide our bags next to our beds, and all I can do is laugh when I look around at this stupid pink room. She’s gone and painted herself everywhere I look—there’s no escaping. I lie back and laugh harder, because she’s all over my bed, too.
“Are you having a breakdown on me?” Ty asks, flipping my foot from my bed.
“Yeah…I think I am,” I say, my hands pressed to my eyes, trying to block everything out. “You hear anything?” I ask, looking right at Cass now.
“Nothing. I sent her a text yesterday and this morning. She has to take her finals, though, right?” Cass asks, and I just shrug. Rowe doesn’t have to do anything. I pull my phone from my pocket and check to see if she’s sent me anything, but my message alert is empty. “Fuck!”
I don’t do outbursts, but all I want to do right now is scream. Days ago, I had everything, and now the only thing I feel is sickness and regret. If I just knew she was okay, that she wasn’t back to being lost… I think if I knew that, I could get through this.
“I’m going to the cages. I’ll be back…I don’t know…later,” I say, pulling on my ball cap and pushing it low over my eyes so I don’t have to look at anyone. I hear Ty and Cass talking softly behind me when I leave, talking about me, I’m sure, but I don’t care. My state right now is something to talk about, and maybe they’ll come up with some answers for me.
During my walk to the batting facilities, I pull out my phone and text her again, because something has to get through. Are you at least taking your finals?
There—a truly simple question. She can send me back two or three letters—no or yes—and I would be thrilled. I push the phone back into my pocket and jog across the street. A few guys are already hitting, so I go to the locker room and pull out my gear, getting my helmet and gloves on. I’m not really dressed for much of a workout, but there aren’t any coaches around, so I just stay dressed in my jeans and long-sleeved baseball shirt—Rowe’s shirt, because I like to torment myself.
I nod to a few of the guys, then take the cage at the end, flipping the switch and watching a few of the pitches go by before I step in and swing. Crack! The first one stings. I’m hitting like shit, not concentrating. I’m hitting angrily. I step back and watch two more go by and take a deep breath before stepping up to the plate again. I line the next four balls, some of the hardest swings of my life, and then completely miss the fifth. This isn’t working. I don’t know why I thought it would. I shut the machine back to off, kick the balls to the end of the cage, and flip my bat to the ground.
Pacing doesn’t get me anywhere either, and after a few long breaths with my hands clasped behind my head, I clean up my failed batting session and return to the locker room. When my phone buzzes, I almost drop it in my rush to get it out of my pocket; my heart goes from feeling high to the pit of my stomach in a fraction of a second because the message is from Ty.
Ty: Dinner. Sally’s. Cass is buying.
Me: OK. Be there in 20.
I slam the locker shut, and pushing my lock back in, I nod to one of the guys walking in as I leave. I almost wish I never met her. But that’s a lie…because even those few weeks, months, were worth it all. I’m approaching Sally’s when my phone buzzes again, and I pull it out to tell Ty I’m there, when I stop cold. It’s her. Yes. That’s all she says. Yes. She’s taking her finals. She’s not fully gone. She isn’t quitting—at least not completely. She will be here—in our building—for at least one day. My girl isn’t gone. And she hasn’t completely shut me out. Three letters, the three greatest letters ever. That’s all I needed.
Chapter 30
Rowe
The hallway is empty. Most of the rooms are locked up, the students already gone for the holidays. My mom called my advisor and was able to get all of my finals pushed to the last two days in my professors’ offices. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I was pretty prepared before I decided to change my plans mid-Thanksgiving break. For one, all I needed to do was turn in a paper, so I wasn’t too stressed.
Cass is still here. I ended up calling her to let her know I was coming, and she said she had a final at the very last possible time slot, so she would be here too. I was glad—I didn’t want to stay here alone.
Nate’s room looks dark though. I didn’t message him again after the first time. I just didn’t know what to say. The way I left his parents house…I was embarrassed. But I also was still so angry about everything. Whenever I thought about the times he and I were together, all the times he knew, I just got madder.
“Yayyyyyyyyy!” Cass is jumping on her bed when I unlock the door and pull my small bag in with me.
“Uh…yeah. Yay,” I say, tossing my keys on my bed and dropping my bag to the floor.
“I saw you walking up out the window. I knew you were coming. I haven’t really been jumping this whole time. That would be weird,” she says, jumping down to the floor. The room smells like nail polish, and she’s wearing cotton in between her toes.
“Pedicure?” I ask, gesturing to her feet.
“Oh,” she pulls her toes up in a curl away from the floor. “Yeah, I forgot. You like?”
She walks closer to me and wiggles them; I realize she has them painted like snowflakes. It makes me smile.
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“I can do yours. You want?” She holds up a bottle of dark blue polish, but I just shake my head no, and she places the bottle on top of her dresser. “Hungry? I waited, in case you wanted to eat.”
My stomach grumbles at the mere mention of food, so I shrug and pull my purse from my bag. Cass locks the door behind me, and we walk to the elevator bank, my eyes zeroing in on Nate and Ty’s door the entire time.
“They left. Had to go home yesterday,” she says, brushing her arm into mine. “But he wanted to stay. I…thought you should know that. He wanted to stay.”
All I can do is smile and nod. I don’t want to talk about him. Not with Cass. But I also want to know how he is, what he’s said about me, and what he thinks about everything I said and did. We take the elevator down to the main floor and walk to the cafeteria. The entire school is like a ghost town, and there are maybe four or five other students in here.
“Is everyone gone?” I ask, looking at all of the empty tables and chairs—so different from the last time I ate here.
“Yeah, pretty much. Most people were done two days ago, and they didn’t waste any time. Paige left already. Bitch.”
I laugh when she says that, and she smiles at me as we grab our trays and slide them along the counter. I pick out a sandwich and an apple and then fill a glass with milk. Nothing sounds appetizing, but I know I need to eat. My stomach is empty, and if I want to do remotely well on my exams, I need food.
Cass’s tray is loaded with junk food, and it makes me laugh at the contrast between our two dinners. “Hunkering down for winter?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as we walk to the table in the corner. Cass doesn’t even ask; she knows where I like to sit.
“Hey, I have been good all year. But my language final is stressful. I’m stress eating,” she says, dropping her tray and pushing the straw into her chocolate milk before tearing open the package of small donuts with her teeth.
“You took sign language,” I say, just blinking at her, and she stares back for a few seconds before finally huffing.
“Yeah, and guess what? Turns out, it’s hard. Like really hard. Like my fingers this way means something totally different from my fingers this way,” she says, contorting her hands into signs I don’t know, before pushing an entire mini-donut in her mouth, a few crumbs falling down her chin.
“What does this mean?” I say, holding up my middle finger and doing my best to hold my grin in. It slips out in seconds though.
“Yeah, fuck you too,” she says, throwing a donut on my plate. I pick it up and eat it; she laughs lightly.
We both finish our dinner
s quickly, eating silently, and then we make it back up to our room. I take a fast shower and change into my pajamas. I pause when I walk out of the shower room, lingering in the hallway and remembering the first time we met. I feel a small pang that I’m not wearing Nate’s shirt, and not sleeping with him in his room. Cass is already watching MTV when I come back, so I snuggle under my blankets and do my best to get lost in the show we’re watching. Some girl is yelling at a guy about dating someone else for most of the show, and it all seems ridiculous after too long, so I pull out my phone and send my parents a text goodnight. I also sweep down to the list of messages from Nate, and I go through every one of them.
“Have you talked to him yet?” Cass’s voice surprises me, and I flip my phone off quickly and hide it from her view.
“No,” I say, letting my eyes fall to the floor while I lay my head flatly along my hands. “I don’t know what to say. Everything is all…I don’t know…messy?” I look back up and stare at her, and we both just sit in our locked gaze, cheeks against our hands and eyes tired.
“Yeah. But—” she starts, but then pauses, pushing her lips tightly.
“But what?”
Cass rolls to her back and holds her arms and legs up in the air, then bends her knees and draws them into her body, hugging them tightly before rolling back to face me. “It’s not like he was trying to hurt you. I mean, I know, you probably feel a little betrayed.”
“Very betrayed,” I butt in.
“Right. I know,” she continues. “But he was sort of put in a really crappy position. And he’s been a wreck.”
I know I shouldn’t be happy about that. But I am. Not that he’s suffering, but happy that he’s feeling. I dreamt about him last night. I dreamt that he showed up in the middle of my final exam and pulled me from some strange office and lifted me into his arms. And when I woke up, I was sad that it wasn’t real. I want to forgive him. But I also want to yell at him. And I still see Josh’s face in the middle of it all, and it makes everything confusing.
“Hey, guess what?” Cass asks, her cheerful voice a change.
“I don’t know…what?” I respond, leaning more over the edge of the bed and letting my arm swing back and forth so my fingers graze the carpet.
“I’m going to tell Ty I love him,” she says. I freeze, then let the smile stretch my entire face. Hearing Cass say that, especially after going home with Ty and seeing new sides of him, makes me feel hopeful for a lot of reasons.
“Yeah?” I say, looking up at her. She’s biting her lip and soon she starts kicking her legs excitedly, and hiding her face in her pillow.
“Yeah. Can you believe it?” She’s still hiding, but peeking at me with her eyes barely above the pillow.
My smile softens, and I roll onto my back and look at the ceiling, then nod slowly. “Yeah, I can.” I remember talking to Ty, telling him how disappointed Cass was that he didn’t invite her home for Thanksgiving, and I remember the look on his face when I told him. He loves her, too. I just hope he’s ready to admit it.
“I’m happy for you,” I say, keeping my eyes focused on the ceiling so Cass doesn’t see my smile fade. I am happy for her. But I miss Nate. And I’m jealous that she’s in her honeymoon phase. Mine was cut short, just like every major milestone in my stupid life. Problem is, as much as I miss Nate, I also miss my box of Josh memories. And I’m not so sure there’s room to miss them both.
My exams take most of the next day and the full next morning. By the time I get back to our room, Cass has her luggage packed, and she’s almost ready to walk out the door to head to the airport.
“So, this is it, huh?” I ask, looking at her and almost wanting to kidnap her and put her in my suitcase so she can come home with me.
“Stop it. Don’t you dare get mushy on me. We’re not criers!” She pulls me into a hug, and I giggle lightly, doing my best to mask the tears also threatening to come. Because truth of the matter is Cass and I are criers. We just don’t want anyone to know.
“Have a happy Christmas!” I say, sitting back on my bed while she pulls the straps of her bags up on her shoulders.
“You, too. And I’ll see you…in a month, right? You’re coming back?” I nod yes and offer a tight smile, but my stomach twists because I’m not so sure. When I fly back, I’ll be staying with my grandparents, where my parents are staying through the holidays until they settle in at San Diego. I’ve thought about transferring, that way I can live at home with them. But that’s not really home either.
“Oh, and I have something for you,” she says, pulling a folded envelope from her pocket and tossing it on my bed next to me. “I’m leaving now, so I won’t get to see you get pissed at me for sitting on that for two days. But I had very specific instructions. And…well…I love Nate’s brother, so I sort of felt like I owed him one. You know, by extension? Anyhow, whatever. Read it. I did. Again, get pissed when I leave. Okay, love you. Bye!”
She’s out the door with a barrel of noise and activity, her bags hitting every wall on her way out and down the hall. I hear the elevator ding, and when I know she’s gone, I turn my face to look at the envelope, my heart pounding so heavily I’m convinced if I looked down I could see it beating through my sweatshirt.
Swallowing hard, I pick up the envelope, which has clearly been torn open, and I can’t help but shake my head and smirk at Cass’s confession. The need to know is so strong that I don’t hesitate long, and I pull the folded sheets of notebook paper out. It’s written in pencil, and some of the lines have smudged, probably from my nosey roommate, but his handwriting is familiar, and just seeing it has me smiling.
I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I unfold the pages and smooth them out in my lap, pulling my legs up crossed in front of me, and begin to read.
33,
And begin. I’ve written the first line of this letter about a dozen times. Ty says I’m wasting paper. Every opening line sounds desperate and cheesy, so I’m opting for that one. Now that I’m this far in, I think I can keep going.
I love you. I also wanted to make sure that was said up high, should you stop reading. I hope you’ve read this far. Have you read this far?
I pause and run my arm under my eyes while I laugh. I can actually hear his voice while I’m reading, smooth and deep, and I miss him more.
I’m sorry. That’s the other thing I needed to make sure was said. I wasn’t sure what should come first—the ‘I love you’ or the ‘I’m sorry.’ I took a gamble and went with love, mostly because it’s happier.
Now, I also want to make sure you’re not angry with Cass for not giving this to you right away. I wanted to make sure you finished your exams first, and she had very specific instructions. Did she cheat and give this to you early? I hadn’t really thought about that until now. I guess there’s nothing I can really do if that happened.
Right, so what’s the point of this letter? Rowe, I’m so sorry I lied to you. Your dad was so concerned, and when he told me what life was like for you, right after the shooting, I didn’t want you to go back. But looking back on it, I think I was maybe being selfish. I didn’t want you to drift back into depression, because I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want you to become so distraught that you couldn’t be here any more, and the fear of that was strong enough to convince me that not telling you was the right thing to do. But I lost you anyway, didn’t I?
When you almost threw those pictures in the fire, it’s like my trance was snapped. I realized how selfish I was being. And I couldn’t let you get rid of those memories; not knowing they were all you had left. So I told you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I love you so much it makes me selfish—greedy for you. I want you all to myself.
Since you walked out of my parents’ house, though, all I’ve been doing is thinking about Josh. And I’ve come to a realization. I think Josh loved you just as much as I do. And if he’s the kind of man who can love you this way—see you for all the things I do—then he sounds like he’s probably a
pretty great guy. And maybe I’m all right with sharing your heart with a guy like that.
I have another confession. I know you wrote to him sometimes, on Facebook. I know because you accidentally sent a message meant for him to me.
I stop when I read this, my heart rate speeding up and my stomach feeling as if it’s full of rocks. I pull my phone from my purse and open my Facebook message to see, and when I go to my string to Nate, it’s there…the last letter I ever wrote to Josh. Nate read every word. Re-reading it makes me cry, remembering how hard it was to want to let Josh go, and how painful it was admitting to him—even in this way—that there was someone else. It takes me several minutes before I can put my phone away and open Nate’s letter again, but I finally do.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that sooner. I probably should have. But you were opening yourself up, and you were falling for me. And Rowe, I just didn’t want to stop that. I told you I’m selfish. I wanted you to fall. And I wanted to catch you.
But since you left, I’ve been thinking about that message you wrote. I bet there are more. You don’t have to tell me; those words are private, for you and Josh. But Josh hasn’t been able to write back. And the more I thought about you sending him messages, and not getting anything in return, the sadder it made me—for you.
So while this isn’t Josh writing now, and while I don’t have the memories of you at sixteen that he did, I do feel slightly qualified—as someone who loves you just as much—to speak on his behalf. You didn’t get to say goodbye, Rowe. But neither did he. If he did, I’m pretty sure these are the things he would want to say:
Dear Rowe (he would be more formal than me),
You were my first. And you were my only. And I am blessed because of that.