“That you got h-hurt.”
“That, too.”
Ryan takes a sip of his beer, but I can tell he is thinking long and hard about something.
“It’s n-not about forgiving you. That’s a g-given, and you d-don’t need to ask.”
I let that sink in, already feeling my heart slowing and easing. “Then why can’t you stand to be around me?” I hear my voice crack, and Ryan glances over at me.
“Everything t-turned upside down that night. What I th-thought, how I felt—about you and her. But even more so about myself. I need time to g-get over that.”
“What can I do, Ryan?” I stare down at my bottle.
“N-Nothing. Every day I ask myself a n-new question. Did you encourage it? D-do I still trust you? Why d-didn’t I notice what was happening? But I need to f-figure out those answers myself.”
“Do you? Trust me?”
“With everything b-but her. I don’t think even you c-can trust yourself where she’s concerned.”
My hand shakes as I set my drink down on the hood. It really sucks that he’s right.
Ryan notices the tremble, so he steadies my hand with his own. He doesn’t know how not to be kind, and damn, I love him for it.
“Scale of one to ten, h-how bad are you hurting?” he asks.
I hold up both my index fingers so he knows it’s an eleven.
Later that night, I wake up and Ryan is standing next to me.
“Y-you were having a n-nightmare,” he says.
I rub my forehead, trying to grab onto the last remnants of the dream. I only know that Elizabeth was there and so was my mom.
“Scoot over,” Ryan says, and he crawls in next to me.
It’s nice having him there as I drift back to sleep. I take a full, deep breath for the first time in months, and it feels good.
Elizabeth
Sam is looking back and forth from her poker cheat sheet to the cards in her hands. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Seriously? You just got a five-fourteen on your MCAT and you can’t figure out a full house?” I tease.
“Girl, stop peeking at my cards.”
“You’re holding them too low.” I grab her hands and tilt them up.
“Congrats on the MCAT, by the way,” Angel says. “Amazing. Are you sending in your apps this summer?”
Sam grips her cards tightly. “Yep, and into the fall. Then it’s a waiting game.”
Somehow it’s May already—three months since I last saw Jude or Ryan. I miss them both, for very different reasons. I miss Ryan’s easy, quiet laughter and affection. But Jude—I miss him soul-deep.
I’m not sure how I made it through the spring, but I know the two girls sitting next to me were a big part of it.
“What about you? You never told me how your interview went,” Sam says to Angel.
“Fine. Felt like they kept talking about how important they were the whole time—like I was lucky to be there. Yuck. I think I’m going to try a start-up instead.”
I discard two cards. “I don’t care where you work, as long as you stay local. And when you both make your millions, can you please remember your poor nurse friend, caring for the sick and elderly of society?”
Sam laughs as she throws out almost her entire hand. “We got you covered. And the next few years are going to be hell for me, so you bitches better give me an amazing summer.”
“Definitely,” Angel says, throwing money into the pot. “Just glad we’re all hanging out again.”
I recoil, thinking about how much I pushed Sam and Angel away this year. “Sorry about that. I got really wrapped up in it all.”
“Ready for someone new? I know some cute nerdy guys I could set you up with.”
“Not yet.” It feels too pathetic to tell Angel that I dreamt about Jude again last night.
“What about you and Will?” Sam asks Angel, saving me from having to wade too deeply into this discussion.
“He’s interviewing for a job in Seattle. Even if he doesn’t get it, I need more.” Angel’s focused on her cards, but it’s obvious she’s thinking about something else. “I’m ready to move on—take more risks.”
“So what’s going on for graduation?” I ask Angel.
“Megan and I are having a small party over here. Her parents are going to be in town, so she wants to keep things low key. You guys are obviously invited.”
Sam folds, throwing her cards down—faceup. “Fuck this game.”
“You would have beaten me,” I say, showing her my cards.
“Oh, crap. Do over.” With that, she sweeps the tiny pot toward her, as though she won a jackpot.
I love these girls. No matter how lonely I get or how dark things seem sometimes, I know there is so much to be thankful for and even more to look forward to. Losing Ryan and Jude was monumental, but knowing I had the strength to do what was right—for myself—feels even bigger.
I picture that moment in the lake years ago, when the weight of the water pulled me down, its icy fingers caressing me and lulling me to sleep. Finally, I am fully awake.
Ryan
My cap and gown are making me sweat. The May sky is crystal blue, and the sun burns hot. Person after person gets up to give a speech; all of them sound the same.
It’s hard to believe this day has finally come. It doesn’t feel like I thought it would, but it feels good nonetheless. When they start to call names, the ceremony begins to move much faster. They are in the “H”s now, so Angel Hernandez will be called soon. I don’t look at the audience when Angel crosses the stage, but I hear the shouting and clapping, and I imagine Lizzie out there cheering her on. My row is moving now, and my name is coming over the loudspeaker. I hear an air horn; that’s Jude, making his presence known. But I hear some other cheers, too, definitely girls, and I know Lizzie and Sam are wishing me well. Despite everything, that makes me happy.
It’s strange how the future you map out for yourself—sometimes over the course of years and decades—can dissolve instantaneously. Not that long ago, I had envisioned spending this day with Jude and Lizzie and my friends, and the night alone with her. I thought we might even go away for the weekend to celebrate. But then again, I thought we’d have lots of trips in our future.
I’ve spent the past months going back over our relationship, wondering where I went wrong. Then one day I was scanning through pictures of us on my phone—of us at the beach, her sticking her tongue out at me on my bed—and I realized I was thinking about it incorrectly. With Lizzie, I went so incredibly right.
In one of the pictures, she’s gazing at me with a small smile—the secret one she used just with me. That smile told me she wanted me. Lizzie gave me so much confidence, because she appreciated me and accepted me for who I am—no changes necessary. No matter what happened, I know Lizzie didn’t fake her feelings toward me. Her love for me may not have been enough, but it was real.
It’s time for Lizzie, me, and Jude to find happiness. As I exit the stage, I’m excited and nervous about my new future. It’s been too long in coming. I hope my mom and my uncle can see me somehow and know how much I miss them both. I can’t help but feel grateful to the people I love who helped get me here—out on a ledge, with the wind behind me and my future in front of me. And not a whole hell of a lot else.
Jude
I didn’t expect to feel so much pride when Ryan graduated—in him, but also in myself. An odd sensation, that. He’s a man now—or at least he’s on his way there—and I’m unnerved because I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself. But I’m excited, too. Maybe he and I can relate more as equals now. That might be a harder adjustment for me than for him, but it’s one I’m eager to make.
After the ceremony, I take Ryan, Brett, and Jim to Morton’s for steaks. We make a bunch of toasts and have a lot of fun, and Ryan seems particularly nostalgic. He is full of old stories about us as kids: the time he threw up SpaghettiOs because I let him eat three cans, or when my mom got so mad at us that she chased
us through the house with a broom.
“I notice you’re leaving out the Disneyland story,” I say. Ryan flips me off.
“Well, now you have to tell it,” Jim says.
“When Ryan was eight and I was twelve, my mom told us we were finally going to Disneyland. We went apeshit—totally mental. We printed out a map of the park a month in advance and planned all the rides we would go on and in what order. Ryan talked a lot of shit about how he wasn’t scared to go on anything, how he was going to do every roller coaster.”
“Every day we had to wait for that d-damn trip felt like an eternity,” Ryan says.
I smile at him. “Definitely. Disneyland day came, and we made my mom get to the gates before the park even opened. When they did, we ran to Tomorrowland and got straight to the front of the line to ride Space Mountain. The ride was short, but it was awesome—looping up and down in the dark, lights flashing all around us. Ryan screamed the entire time.”
“So did you—right into my ear.”
I shoot him a look. “Anyway, when we got off, Ryan’s face was flushed, and he was all happy and excited—until he realized he had pissed his pants. I laughed so hard that I practically peed my own pants, which made Ryan laugh until he cried. We had to go all the way back to the motel to change. It was worth it because it was funny as fuck.”
Brett and Jim chuckle as Ryan shakes his head.
“Mom thought we were total m-morons, but she was cool about it.” Ryan glances at me, knowing I’m feeling the same collage of happiness and sadness that he is.
“To your mom,” Jim says, and we all raise our glasses.
After we get home from dinner, Ryan thanks me and tells me he loves me. I give him a big hug and congratulate him again. Things aren’t completely back to where they were between us—maybe they never will be—but Ryan holds the hug longer than usual.
I wake up the next morning, my head aching from too much bourbon. I head out to the kitchen for water, surprised that Ryan’s not already awake. I head down the hall, noticing that we need to do some painting, and I knock on his door. When he doesn’t answer, I get a strange feeling in my stomach, like I’m back on Space Mountain trying not to puke. I open the door. Ryan’s bed is made, and there is a letter sitting there with my name on it. I open his closet and most of his clothes are gone, as well as some of his other stuff. I reach for the letter, but no matter what I do, I can’t make myself grab it.
Somehow, I already know what it says.
CHAPTER 16
Elizabeth
“Congratulations,” Sam and I shout as we walk into Angel and Megan’s graduation party. The room is crowded with people—no surprise, since Megan is a stellar hostess and knows how to have a good time.
We all trade hugs, and then Sam and I let the girls get back to talking to family and friends. We mingle for a while, until Sam sees a bounce house in the backyard.
“We have to do that,” Sam says, grabbing my arm.
We run outside, kicking our shoes off along the way. The inflatable princess castle is enormous and very, very pink. We squeeze in through the opening and get lost in a mesh of bodies. I can’t help but think about Ryan and the trampoline, and I wonder what he’s doing tonight. I will the thought away.
We head back inside, thirsty and a little sick from jumping. I notice that Angel put some sparkling apple cider out for me and Sam, which is really sweet. Sam doesn’t drink at all, because her favorite uncle was killed by a drunk driver. On the night of his company Christmas party, he had a few drinks and decided to call a cab just to be safe. He was in the back of the cab when a drunk woman ran a red light and sideswiped them.
Her uncle held on for two days before he died. Sam said she asked the doctors so many questions that they threatened to send her home.
Things like that stay with you, or at least they should. Sam decided to go into medicine right after that, because, as she says, she wants to know two things: why, and how to fix it. For her, the risks of alcohol are too high for the reward. It’s impressive that she let the experience change her—shape her—instead of shoving it aside.
But tonight is for celebrating.
As Sam and I grab the cider, I see Megan’s parents taking her outside. She waves me, Sam, and Angel over to go with them. Sitting in the driveway is a new Fiat, with one of those giant bows on it like you see in commercials. Megan jumps up and down in her platform shoes and her strapless hot-pink dress, which is a sight in and of itself. We get in and take a ride, the smell of new car enveloping us.
Later in the night, I head to the bathroom, and when I come out, I see Megan by herself at the end of the hall.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” she says.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it. Angel says you’re about to land a job. Congrats.”
“It’s a marketing agency in Palo Alto. So, we’ll see. Jude helped me get my foot in the door.”
I nod my head but don’t say anything.
“I know you and I don’t hang out much.” She scans my simple green sundress. “I guess we couldn’t be more different. But Jude seemed really miserable last time I saw him. More than usual. I’ve never seen him get that way over a girl. Just thought you should know.”
“I really can’t talk about him.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Thanks, Megan. I appreciate it.”
“Am I making you feel bad for being so judgy about me?” She smirks.
“Still think I’m a prude?”
Her smile says it all. “Let’s head back to the party.”
When we get to the living room, I see Angel with her mom, who is an older version of Angel—compact and pretty. Angel is the first person in her family to get a college degree, and her mother’s pride is obvious. She pulls Angel into a bear hug.
“We did it,” she says, and they both start crying. It’s nice to see Angel’s strong facade melt, and soon everyone around them is teary, including me.
“Enough crying,” Angel finally yells out. “Time for some drinks.” She heads over to a group of people in the corner and starts talking to a guy from one of her classes. He’s pretty darn cute—with a mop of blondish hair and warm brown eyes—so maybe she’s back in the saddle.
Sam and I head home around one in the morning, giggling and happy as we get to our door. There’s a tall figure standing there, and it startles me for a second before I realize it’s Ryan.
“Can I talk to you for a m-minute?” he asks.
I haven’t seen his kind, expressive face for a long time, and it hits me hard. He looks nervous but resolved. It’s nice to know I can still read him, but now I’m filled with anxiety about why he’s here.
I nod. Sam shoots me a concerned glance as she goes inside.
Ryan and I walk toward the middle of campus, past classroom buildings and dorms. There are people out and about, even at this time of night, and the mood is festive. It’s not cold, but my skin breaks out into goose bumps. What’s unnerving is that Ryan and I used to share almost everything, but now, we’re as distant as strangers.
We find a secluded bench and sit down. Then we have that awkward moment in which there’s so much to say that you can say nothing.
Ryan sighs. “I don’t know h-how to begin.”
“I’m sorry I sent you a letter,” I blurt out. “I’m not proud of that. I just couldn’t . . .”
“I g-get it. I’m not here because I’m angry, or b-because I’m trying to talk you into coming back. I know that isn’t going to h-happen.”
I sit and wait, because I know Ryan well enough to see that he’s working up to something huge, and I have no idea what it could be.
“I’m leaving t-tomorrow.”
“Oh. Where?”
“I’m going to Japan to teach English for a y-year. That’s if they d-don’t send me b-back when they hear me stutter. B-but my voice is actually better when I’m explaining things slowly, so I’m hopeful.”
I’m too shocked to speak
at first. “What about your credential? And you don’t speak Japanese.”
He laughs. “I know. They prefer that. It’s English-only instruction. I d-deferred my credential program for a year.”
“Well, that’s amazing.” And it is. Ryan deserves happiness, and he looks excited. “How does Jude feel about it?”
“He doesn’t know.”
My fingers go numb and my stomach drops.
“Lizzie, I know how you feel about him. I d-don’t want to explain how, but I know. I’m hoping you’ll look out for him for m-me.”
I shake my head back and forth so fast, it makes my head hurt, and then I stand up because I have to move. “No, that’s not fair. You can’t ask me to do that. I’m only just now getting back on my feet.”
“He needs you, Lizzie.”
The blood rushes out of my head, so I sit back down, put my hands on my knees, and lean forward.
“He and I need to be apart for a while. We both h-have a lot to figure out, and I want to do w-what you did—move away from home and make my own choices. I can’t do that l-living with him. He will always need to take care of me, and I will always n-need his approval.”
“Fine. But what, you’re just swapping me like a baseball card? I don’t think so.” I pull my hands through my hair and tug at the roots. The pain feels good.
Ryan lowers his chin, his hair falling over his face. His hands are in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched. “You know that’s not how I mean it. He’s t-torn apart right now. How can I not try to p-put him back together?”
“You can’t fix him, Ryan. Neither can I.”
“But you l-love each other. Once I’m out of the picture, will you really be able to hold out f-forever?”
Ryan is the one who is good with words, not me, and they are failing me right now. “Why would you do this?”
“Because he would d-do it for me—already did, actually. And I’ve wanted him to open his heart to someone else for a long time. Obviously, I wish it hadn’t b-been you.”
“Ryan.” I grab his shoulder, trying to anchor myself. “I don’t want to talk about Jude anymore. I can’t.”
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