Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

“Give me one good reason why I should listen to anything you’re saying when your actions speak volumes to the contrary?”

  “What are you talking about?” It was a stupid question. I already knew what he was going to say. My body had betrayed me on at least three occasions with Quinn, and I knew it was just a matter of time before he would throw it in my face. And, truthfully, today of all days I couldn’t have cared less if he did. The ball of nerves that spun violently in the pit of my stomach each time I thought about confessing my indiscretion to Ryan was more than enough to keep me clearheaded and focused.

  “You say you love this guy,” Quinn went on. “You say he’s your best friend and whatever. But you’re here sitting next to me—talking to me. You went to the party last week to meet me … and you were the one kissing me.”

  “Your point?” I asked impatiently.

  “Evie, the point is that things change. People change. Relationships change. And, I think that deep down you’re freaking out because you’ve found someone else who interests you more than this boyfriend of yours.”

  “And I suppose this someone else is you?” I shot back. He just smiled at me, radiating total confidence and charisma. “You’re looking through rose-colored glasses,” I said, rebuffing his charms.

  “How do you mean?” he asked, still smiling.

  “You refuse to see things as they really are. Tell me, Quinn, when you’re forced to take off your glasses someday and see the world in the same colors as everyone else, what will you think then?”

  “Well, at least I’m looking. I’m not the one with tunnel vision. You only see the future you created for yourself back in high school.”

  “Excuse me,” Swain’s voice boomed towards the back of the auditorium where we were sitting. Quinn and I instantly stopped talking and jerked our heads towards the front of class. Swain was staring straight at us.

  Crap.

  “If you two can’t postpone your lovers’ quarrel until after my class, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  I looked down, thoroughly embarrassed—mostly because of Swain’s characterization of us. But Swain’s scolding didn’t stop Quinn from getting in the last word.

  “You’re stuck in the past,” he whispered a minute later, “and I think you like it that way. It’s safe. It’s easy. That way you don’t have to ask the difficult questions. You don’t have to take any risks.” He paused to take a deep breath and then exhaled. “Open your eyes, Evie, and take a good look around; or you’re going to miss something great sitting right next to you.” This time his voice lacked a single trace of the arrogance I was used to hearing.

  Quinn’s words haunted me for the rest of Swain’s lecture. I wasn’t stuck in some high school fantasy because I was afraid to take risks. I was hanging onto the fantasy because it was all I had. It was a hell of a lot easier for me to be with Ryan than worry about whether or not I had a future. So for the past couple of years, I’d just gotten used to not thinking about my future. And I never really gave much thought to the present either. I just wanted to maintain the status quo long enough to reach my nineteenth birthday at the end of the summer—that was until Quinn came along.

  I began to wonder if Quinn might be right. Could my feelings for Ryan have changed without me even realizing it? Still engrossed in my thoughts, I didn’t even notice everyone packing up their bags to leave when class ended. Quinn nudged me.

  “Evie,” Quinn called out softly.

  “Hmm,” I responded, dazed.

  “Class is over.”

  “Oh.” I snapped back to reality and scanned the room. The lecture hall was nearly empty. I started cramming my stuff into my backpack.

  “So when are you leaving?” Quinn asked reluctantly.

  “Why do you want to know?” I asked, walking down the stairs of the lecture hall behind him.

  “You know,” Quinn said, shaking his head as he stopped and turned to face me, “you’re not exactly the easiest person to have a conversation with. It’s like you have a natural talent for deflecting every question I ask. Why is it that you never answer me directly?”

  Feeling a little braver than I probably should have at the moment, I decided to take on his challenge and prove him wrong.

  “You want me to be direct? Okay, go ahead. Ask me anything. You get one question.” I regretted the words the second I uttered them, and I was right to do so. As soon as Quinn smiled, I knew he was going to take full advantage of my offer.

  “Are you in love with him?” His gaze was so intense. I could feel his eyes probing mine like he was trying to see inside me—like he was searching my soul.

  “What?” I asked, taken aback.

  “You heard me. Are you in love with him?” Quinn wanted the truth, but for the first time I wasn’t even sure of it myself.

  “A week ago,” I began, taking a moment to collect my thoughts, “I would have said ‘yes,’ without a doubt. Now … I’m not so sure. I’m confused. But that doesn’t mean I’ve fallen out of love with Ryan. It just means I have to figure a few things out—on my own.”

  “So if you have to figure things out on your own, why are you driving a hundred-and-some miles to see him?”

  “Nice try. You had your one question, and I answered it. Don’t go trying to sneak another one in there.” It figured Quinn would try to drink from the well twice.

  “Oh please.” He sounded so irritated. “You couldn’t have been more ambiguous. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would have sufficed. But instead you handed me a load of BS. You tell me that you don’t know how you feel about this guy, that you have to figure it out on your own. But you’re driving off to Champaign this weekend to be with him.” He sighed. “Just be honest with me—why go and see this guy one week after I kissed you?”

  I thought about his question. I really thought about it. And while I firmly believed that the details and status of my relationship with Ryan were none of Quinn’s business, I had to admit that Quinn had everything to do with the reason for my visit to Champaign. So I decided to be as truthful as I could with him.

  “I have to see Ryan. I need to find out if things between us really have changed or if I screwed up for some other reason.”

  “So you’re considering that things between the two of you might have changed,” Quinn said with a hint of optimism. “Good.” He smiled devilishly.

  “Hey, don’t go getting your hopes up,” I replied.

  “Why not? I like my odds.”

  “Your odds? You don’t even know the first thing about Ryan. What if he’s ten times the guy you are?”

  “Evie, if that were really the case, you would have just come out and told me that he’s ten times the guy I am—not asked me. You also would've been up front about him when we first met or, at the very least, after you called him that day I ran into you in the Union.”

  So he’d known about Ryan since before the party. I mentally winced.

  “And you never would’ve allowed things to go this far between us.” He tucked some stray wisps of my hair behind my ear, brushing my face as he pulled his hand away.

  Quinn may have had a point, but that didn’t mean I liked hearing it. I definitely didn’t need to hear ‘I told you so’ from him. Exasperated, I turned on my heels and briskly walked out of the classroom and then out of the building. He followed close behind me. The cold winter air hit my face. I experienced déjà vu, like it was the first day Quinn and I met. When things were different. When I at least felt like I had a decent grasp on what was going on with my life.

  “I hate to break it to you, but you still don’t know everything about me,” I asserted.

  “True. But I know I’d rather be with you this weekend than without you. So why don’t you just hang out here instead and give us a chance? Maybe that’s all you need to figure things out.” Quinn’s confidence seemed to evaporate right before my eyes; he suddenly looked so vulnerable. His eyes were pleading with me to give him something I couldn’t because my heart already bel
onged to someone else. He was throwing it all out on the line; he wanted me to know how he felt about me.

  I planned on doing the same thing today—only with my boyfriend. My conscience grappled with the guilt I felt over two different people: Ryan and Quinn. What could I say? I mean, how could I tell Quinn that I was going to Champaign to fight for my relationship with Ryan.

  “Well, I should get going,” I said awkwardly.

  “Evie, promise me you’ll be careful.”

  I looked into Quinn’s eyes; they were dark and muddled like an ocean during a storm. He was genuinely worried about me.

  “I promise.”

  “I’m serious.” He still looked concerned.

  “I know.”

  “And, hey, I’ll save a seat for you in class on Monday,” Quinn added, forcing a smile in an effort to lighten the mood.

  “I’m not so sure Swain will like that,” I replied, smiling, also trying to cut through the tension in the air.

  Quinn’s smile broadened. He leaned in towards me and kissed me on the cheek. I inhaled his scent, memorizing it. Our gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and walked away. I wanted to call out to him, but I fought the urge. Instead, I just stood there and watched him walk away until he was nearly out of sight. The back of my throat ached. My heart throbbed. I suddenly felt like this was the last conversation I would ever have with Quinn, like it was the last time I’d ever see him. My eyes stung as I fought back the tears.

  5. Blindsided

  I decided to surprise Ryan and not tell him I was coming to Champaign. The last thing I wanted him to do was question why I’d planned such a spontaneous visit to see him or whether my parents knew of the trip—sore subjects to be sure. I also knew Ryan would’ve voiced his own concerns about me driving to Champaign alone. And, under the circumstances, I figured the less communication I had with Ryan before I saw him the better. So I’d kept my contact with him during the past week to a bare minimum. Basically, I texted him every so often to let him know I was feeling better but was afraid of falling behind in my classes and would be busy studying the entire weekend.

  Before leaving, I stopped by a convenience store and bought throat lozenges, a six-pack of Gatorade, a few packages of Ramen noodles, and the latest gossip mags for Rachel. I felt bad deserting her when she was sick, but she insisted she would be fine. Besides, Lisa was around; I knew she would stop by and look in on Rachel. After giving Lisa strict instructions not to tell Ryan where I was this weekend should he call, I grabbed my overnight bag and headed out the door.

  It was three o’clock on Friday afternoon by the time I hit the road. There was still a chance I would miss rush hour traffic in Indianapolis. The drive started off slowly; in fact, the first fifty miles to Indy seemed to take forever. But I also welcomed the solitude. I pondered whether it was at all possible to be in love with two guys at the same time or if this kind of love was truly an exclusive state of the heart. Did being in love with one person necessarily mean you couldn’t be in love with another? Was falling in love with one person a sign that you were falling out of love with someone else? The more relevant and frightening question for me was whether I was actually falling for Quinn or just infatuated with him.

  I thought of Ryan, of our love, our history, and our friendship. Could all of that really be erased the minute I gave into the slightest temptation? Extinguished by some guy with deep blue eyes that just happened to walk into my life one day and turn it upside down? No way. In my heart I knew that whatever was going on between Ryan and me started well before I met Quinn.

  I suspected Quinn was only a symptom of the problems between us. Quinn was merely a distraction—someone to help me pass the time so I didn’t have to feel so lonely about being alone at school. I had missed having someone there for me on a daily basis. Someone? Didn’t I mean Ryan? And what would possess me to even risk allowing Quinn to be Ryan’s proxy? I was practically defenseless against Quinn’s charms, his looks, his scent, his touch, his lips …

  Ugh! Stop it! I was pathetic. Here I was on my way to see Ryan, and thoughts of Quinn were invading my head. I quickly pushed Quinn from my mind. I had to think clearly. I had to focus on how I was going to explain to Ryan what had happened a week ago. I had racked my brain for the past couple days trying to find the right words, rehearsing various monologues, but nothing sounded right.

  I thought of trying the beg-for-forgiveness approach: Ryan, I have to tell you something. Last week I went to a party and kissed a guy. It went no further. I’m so very sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I promise it meant nothing. And it won’t happen again. I think I was just lonely and confused—but I’m not anymore. Being here with you now, my head has never been clearer. I know that I love you and want to be with you. I made a mistake, and I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me.

  Or the desperate, more pathetic version of the same: I’m so sorry, Ryan. I know what I did was inexcusable, and I shouldn’t even have the right to ask for your forgiveness. Please know that I miss you so much. I never meant to hurt you. It was a stupid and selfish thing to do—a moment of weakness that will never happen again. It’s just that sometimes it’s so difficult with me being in Bloomington and you all the way here in Champaign. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you, but I’m willing to do anything if you’ll just forgive me. Please say that you’ll forgive me.

  The somewhat open and honest approach was along the lines of: Ryan, we need to talk. I met someone last week and we kissed. It didn’t go any further, but it did happen. I’m so sorry. I don’t know if I’m just stressed out about our long-distance relationship or confused about us, but I feel like my whole world has been turned upside down. That’s why I had to come see you tonight. I need to see if we’re still okay. I need to know if you’re willing to forgive my mistake. I still want to fight for us, but I need to know if, after hearing what I did, you still think we’re worth fighting for.

  The more brutally honest approach had also crossed my mind: Ryan, I met someone who seems to be really interested in me. And since meeting him, I’ve been confused about us. I don’t know if I just like the attention that I’m getting from him or if there’s something more to it than that. We kissed last week. It didn’t go any further, but it wasn’t exactly the most innocent of kisses either. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt or betray you in any way. I felt like I had to come down here and tell you in person—that you deserved at least that much. I need to hear what you’re thinking. I need to know where we go from here.

  Brutal honesty was the one approach I seemed to shy away from the most, although I wasn’t too crazy about the somewhat honest approach either. Ryan was going to be so hurt and angry with me, I didn’t feel the need to rub salt into the wounds I was about to inflict upon him. Seeing Ryan that night was going to be one of the most difficult and unpleasant things I would ever experience, of that I was sure.

  When I saw the exits for Champaign-Urbana, my hands grew cold and clammy and my head began to throb. What if Ryan didn’t forgive me? What if he ended our relationship? Broke up with me on the spot? Were we destined to be yet another doomed high-school romance? Yet another long distance casualty?

  I began to rethink whether it was such a good idea to tell Ryan about Quinn. Maybe Lisa was right. Perhaps the best thing to do was put Quinn and the kiss behind me and bury it in the closet for good. But I knew the solution to my problem wasn’t that straightforward. For one thing, my guilty conscience was eating me alive. Not to mention, I couldn’t get Quinn out of my head. Even worse, however, I wasn’t sure I wanted him out of my head.

  You have to be honest with Ryan, I told myself. You owe it to him to tell him the truth.

  I pulled into Ryan’s complex and found a parking space directly in front of his apartment door. I remembered Ryan mentioning that his two roommates planned to go to Louisville that weekend, but Ryan couldn’t go for some reason. The living room lights were off, but I could see the flickering lights of the new
flat-screen TV his parents had given him for Christmas. Ryan was home. My chest started pounding. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  Calm down. Take a deep breath, I told myself as I flipped down the sun visor and checked my appearance in the illuminated mirror embedded within. I brushed my hair, reapplied some lip gloss, and flipped the visor back up.

  “Ready or not, here I go,” I muttered. I took another deep breath and opened the car door. The cold air whipped my hair around as I stepped outside. Fearing the worst, I left my bags in the car. I would get them later … that is, if Ryan wanted me to stay. A short stabbing pain ripped through my chest at the possibility that he wouldn’t. Anxiety and panic overwhelmed me, and my hands began to tremble. Please let me survive this. Please let him forgive me. I swear I will never cheat on Ryan again.

  Using the spare key Ryan had given me, I slowly and quietly unlocked his front door. This was supposed to be a surprise after all. But, when I stepped inside, I was the one who received the shock of a lifetime. Ryan wasn’t alone. Stunned, I had to blink twice to believe what I was seeing. He was naked on his couch on top of some … slut. As my brain slowly began to register what was going on, my emotions rapidly imploded and rage began to seethe inside of me.

  “Damn you, Ryan Walker! Damn you!” I screamed. Startled, Ryan looked up at me, his eyes immediately filled with horror.

  “Evie!” He leaped off of the girl, who now turned around to see who had dared interrupt her evening. She looked at me, but her face showed no iota of surprise, remorse, shame, anger—nothing. I didn’t know which was worse, seeing his face or hers.

  “Evie!” Ryan croaked frantically, his eyes still wide with alarm as he stood there naked, using his hands as a makeshift fig leaf.

  I couldn’t stand to see the picture in front of me, so I shut my eyes. I had to get out of there. I spun around and bolted out of the apartment, leaving the front door wide open, my spare key still in the lock. Tears began streaming down my face as I ran for my car.

  Stop crying! my mind ordered. Whatever you do, don’t let him see you crying! I choked back the tears as best I could. I refused to let Ryan see how much he had hurt me—how much he had crushed me. I jumped into my car and slammed the door shut, locking it immediately.