by Whitney G.
“So?”
“So, for your birthday party, you only invited her to get back at all the people who dissed her the year before. You even gave her the invitation in front of everyone at school, including your ‘first-kiss’ girlfriend.”
“I was just being a good friend.”
“Two, you can’t last in any relationship because you subconsciously compare every woman you date to Ari, even when you know you’ll never be completely open with them if they do measure up.”
“I have an unfortunate tendency to pick bat-shit crazy women. I never compare them to Ari.”
“Three, if she calls you, you answer immediately and then you go running to wherever she is if she asks you to.”
“Any best friend would do that.”
“In the middle of a date? Or right after sex with his girlfriend?” He crossed his arms. “I don’t think so.”
I said nothing.
“That’s what I thought. Now that you’re somewhat accepting of the truth, do you want the most obvious fucking reason that you’re in love with Arizona and always have been?”
“Not really.”
He grabbed my arm and pointed to the small State of Arizona-shaped tattoo. “Any reason why you’ve never covered that or etched over it like any of your other ones? There’s no sign or remnant of those old ‘Carter and Jane’ or ‘Rose forever’ tattoos anymore… ”
“It’s become a drunken memory. It makes for a good story.”
“For who, Carter? No future wife or girlfriend is going to think that’s a good story and you fucking know it.”
I shrugged. “None of my previous girlfriends have ever complained to me about it before.”
“That’s because none of your previous girlfriends were ever smart enough to know all the states that make up America. They’d probably be shocked to know that there was one called Arizona in the first place.”
I tried to think of a rebuttal, but I couldn’t find one.
“You know what? Let’s get out of here…” He actually sounded sympathetic. “You’ve got it bad, and I’m going to need a better wingman while I’m on this trip. Pussy whipped and love sick Carter is not going to help me at all…”
Track 26. We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (3:53)
More weeks passed and the beach’s bipolar autumn—warm temperatures one day, unbearable rainfall the next, passed without incident. Without Arizona.
According to what her mom had told me, she didn’t think it made much sense for her to spend over a thousand dollars on a plane ticket to come home for fall break. I didn’t get a chance to offer to foot the bill because I was too engrossed in the hectic insanity of law school and I couldn’t catch a break to save my life.
Everyone in my program operated on a cutthroat level and had already developed close knit study groups, so it left me with a lone study partner. Erica.
She was just as enthusiastic about the law as me: She’d scored a 180 on the LSATs as well, and her dad had influenced her into the career field, too.
“Hey. Do you want to split up the justice chapters again?” She tossed a few gummy bears in my direction. “Or maybe you just want to stare into space for a few more hours.”
“We can split them up,” I stood up and walked into my kitchen. “You want more coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
I pulled out two mugs—noticing a new Post-It from Josh on the cabinet door: “There’s absolutely no reason why you still haven’t fucked Erica yet. That’s the best way to get over Ari…Just do it.”
I crumpled the note and threw it away.
“Can I ask you something, Carter?” Erica sat up on the couch.
“Anything.”
“Are you dating someone?”
“I think you would know by now if I was. Don’t you?”
“Not necessarily…” She blushed. “I mean, we do spend a lot of time together, but you always slip away for hours at a time on the weekends.”
“To complete my internship hours.” I smiled. “I’m pretty sure you do the same thing on the weekends.”
“Oh, right…” she said and then, as I placed the coffee in front of her, she cleared her throat. “Would you like to go out sometime? Like, as friends? Nothing more than friends?”
I hesitated, finally looking her over and paying attention to her features. She was pretty—auburn colored hair, bright blue eyes, and if it weren’t for a certain someone, I would’ve once considered her one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met. “Sure.”
“Great! This weekend all of the first years are going to dinner and a movie downtown. Is that cool with you?”
“Perfect…Which chapters do you want me to outline?”
We worked side by side until nearly midnight, stopping after we’d gone through two more pots of coffee. I helped her put all her things back into her backpack and walked her outside to her car.
“We got a lot of work done today,” she said, smiling as I held her car door open for her.
“We did. I’m sure we’ll get the highest scores again, too.”
“I’m sure…” She hesitated a second, and then she stood on her toes and planted a kiss on my cheek. “See you Saturday, Carter.”
“See you Saturday…” I forced a smile and waited until she drove off before walking back inside. I was about to collapse on the couch and call it a night, but I spotted a letter on the TV stand. Addressed to me in Arizona’s handwriting.
I quickly ripped it open and sat on the couch to read:
Dear Carter,
Sorry it took me so long to respond to your last letter, but unfortunately not much has changed in my life since we last wrote. (Or spoke…)
I still hate it here. It’s absolutely beautiful despite the lack of beaches in the part of town I’m in, but that’s about all I can say…
Anyway, who would’ve thought you would be number one in your class? I mean, I knew you’d do well, but that’s amazing. Good for you. Maybe you can be my lawyer if I ever open up my own restaurant? (Funny how I’ve never given much thought to that before, but that’d be nice.)
Also, THANK YOU for sending me even more of those jars of Gayle’s waffle batter. Believe it or not, I’ve used them all and I’ve got my classmates hooked on the crack that is Gayle’s waffles. Well, that’s it for me for now…Let me know how you’re doing and I’ll try to write back faster next time.
Sincerely,
Arizona
Three Months Gone…And More
Dear Arizona,
I refuse to believe that you’re not checking your emails at all.
I could maybe understand if you’re reading them and quickly deleting them, but could you at least respond to one of the ones I sent you last week (or at least this letter. At least THIS goddamn letter so I know that you’re reading what I send you…) whenever you get a chance. I need to talk to you about something important.
Not much has changed in my life here at home.
Still in law school.
Still number one in the class.
Still missing you. (More than I’ll ever be able to explain.)
Sincerely,
Carter
Dear Arizona,
I need you to respond. Now.
Say something...Anything.
Sincerely,
Carter
Dear Carter,
Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you enjoyed the holiday! (Please tell Josh I said hello!)
Sincerely,
Arizona
Dear Carter,
Merry Christmas! Hope Santa brought you everything you wanted and more! (Thank you for sending me more waffle batter from Gayle’s! I’ve also mailed a separate “thank you” note just for that.)
Sincerely,
Arizona
Dear Carter!
HAPPY NEW YEAR! Whoa, crazy how the past six months have just flown by, huh? All is well here—I’m officially my teacher’s favorite student and I think I might have a real female BFF in Nicole. (I t
hink the distance made us stronger.)
Sincerely,
Arizona
Track 27. Begin Again. (5:03)
I dropped a few postcards into the mailbox for my mom one Saturday morning. I was slowly coming to terms with my new non-Carter filled life, and even though I still woke up some days feeling numb and occasionally broke down and cried in the middle of the night, I was faring way better than I was when I first got here.
I was making plenty of new friends in my classes, talking to Nicole once a week via Skype, and whenever I was feeling lonely, I wandered out to the coast.
Since there were no beaches here—only jagged rocks and rough waters that knocked against them, I would lay back against my blanket and shut my eyes—pretending I was back at home instead. I would envision sunny days and warm sand, and for once, I wouldn’t be bothered by the tourists.
My plan for “make-believe beach” was derailed today, though. In my usual spot, a group of people dressed in grey tuxedos and pink dresses were preparing for a wedding, so I headed to a nearby café.
I ordered a pastry and a water, and sat by the window—trying my best to catch a glimpse of the ceremony, to see what true love looked like up close.
“Do you mind if I join you?” My classmate Sean, a gorgeous guy with green eyes and an American accent, suddenly stepped in my line of vision.
“I don’t mind.”
“Great.” He held out a white mug. “Do you like orange blend?”
“Never had it.” I took it from his hands and sipped it slow; it was amazing. “What are you doing here?”
“Tracking you down to see why you stood me up,” he said, smiling. “We had a date yesterday. Did you forget?”
“What?” I raised my eyebrow, confused.
“You don’t recall me saying that I’d pick you up from your flat at six for a night out?”
I remembered. I just didn’t think he was serious, so I’d gotten into bed and gone to sleep early.
“I’m so sorry, Sean. I thought you were just joking.”
He smiled and sat down, moving his chair close to mine. “Do you also think I’m ‘just joking’ when I call you every night and we talk on the phone for hours at a time? Or when I only ask you to stay behind after study sessions and we hang out all night at my place?”
I blinked, confused again.
“Arizona…” He leaned forward and ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m trying to go out with you… How else can I make that any clearer?”
I blushed, now feeling like a complete ditz. I’d thought nothing of our nightly phone conversations, weekend bike rides through town, or private study sessions.
“I just thought you were being a nice guy…” I said.
“I am a nice guy.” His fingers were still in my hair. “Outside of the bedroom…”
My eyes widened and he laughed—leaning even closer.
“I don’t know what else I can do to make you see that I’m interested,” he said softly. “Tell me what it takes…”
I swallowed, looking him over. This was the second time in my life I’d failed to realize how sexy and attractive a guy was. With sun-kissed blond hair, deep green eyes, and a mouth that was too tempting not to try, he was definitely sexy as hell.
“Are you going to tell me?” he asked.
I hesitated. “What do you mean by go out?”
“I mean you’ll actually hang out with me with the impression that I’m more than a nice guy.” He looked into my eyes. “A guy who actually likes you…It also means you’ll let me take you out to the city tomorrow.”
“What if I’m busy tomorrow?”
“If implies that you’re not, so I’ll force you.”
“How romantic…” I laughed. “Nonetheless, yes. I’ll go out with you.”
“Good…”he said, standing up and stepping back. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow.”
“Wait,” I called out. “You were kidding about that bedroom comment, weren’t you?”
He looked over his shoulder and smirked. “I wasn’t…”
Blushing, I watched him walk away and sat in the café a little longer, wondering if our day in Paris tomorrow would come with the cliché “falling in love atop the Eiffel Tower” moment. I knew one thing for sure though, I was starting a new compatibility spreadsheet for us; I needed to check off the “intensity of the kisses” category with him ASAP.
When I finally arrived back home, I noticed there was a new letter from Carter on my table.
I stared at it for a while, running my finger along the flap—along the words “URGENT: Please Open Me, Ari,” but I couldn’t bring myself to open it.
Just not right now…
Track 28. How You Get the Girl (4:32)
“Mr. James,” the postal employee sighed. “For the umpteenth time, we can’t track letters, only packages. Would you like me to track your last package to France, maybe?”
“Bullshit. There has to be some way that you can track a goddamn letter…”
He rolled his eyes and motioned for me to step aside. “Next in line, please!”
Annoyed, I put my old receipt into my pocket and left the office. It’d been weeks since I sent Ari my last letter, and I’d sent it in a bright blue envelope with the words “URGENT: Please Open Me, Ari” across the back flap to make sure she’d have no choice but to read it. Yet, she hadn’t sent one word back about it, and the only correspondence on her end had been generic holiday cards. With Valentine’s Day a month and a half away, I wondered if she’d already made plans to send me another one of those.
As usual, when I got home, I checked the mail, not expecting anything from her inside of it. This time—to my surprise, there was. It was dated for two weeks ago, and her curly handwriting was all over the back flap.
I took it inside the house with me and immediately ripped it open:
Dear Carter,
I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to write you an actual, personal letter back. Things have become quite hectic now—in both good and bad ways.
My roommate and I are on much better terms now (we’re actually really, really good friends) and I still have the highest marks in my class. I am definitely living my dream—definitely sooo happy that I came here to this school, and I can’t wait to cook you one of my gourmet breakfast dishes. (It’s BETTER THAN GAYLE’S! And if it isn’t, just tell me it is. LOL)
I’m not surprised to know that you’re still number one in your cohort. I’ll have to take you out to celebrate when I get home…
Speaking of which, I was going to surprise you but this letter will probably beat me there…I’m coming home for two whole weeks!!
See you soon.
Sincerely,
Arizona
What the fuck…
I shook the letter, flipped it to the back—reread it a few times, wondering if I’d missed a part. There was no mention of anything I’d sent her in my most recent letter. I was wondering if she’d read it and was simply evading the subject until she got home, or if she still hadn’t read how I felt about the summer we spent together, how I felt about her.
I pulled out my phone to call Josh and tell him that I’d probably be spending the full two weeks with Arizona whenever she got here, but I noticed I had a missed call from Ari’s mom.
Sighing, I called her back.
“Hey, Carter!” she answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Mrs. Turner.”
“Mrs. Turner?” She laughed. “Really? You haven’t called me that since you wrote me an ‘I’m sorry for hurting your daughter’s feelings’ letter. You know better than that…”
I smiled. “Okay…Second Mom.”
“Much better. I was calling to ask if you could do me a huge, huge favor.”
“Anything.”
“Ari’s getting back home in about three hours according to the flight information she sent me.”
She didn’t think to tell me when her flight landed?
“Are you
there, Carter?” her mom asked.
“I’m here.”
“Well, I was going to ask if she could stay with you for just this weekend. I’m currently staying at a friend’s because two of our water pipes burst and you know I refuse to step foot in there until it’s all taken care of…If it’s a problem, just let me know. I can see if maybe her new friend Nicole—”
“It’s not a problem,” I said, still silently seething at Ari’s inability to tell me anything. “Should I pick her up from the airport, too?”
“Not at all! She’s using my reward points for a free rental. I’ll send her the text about the accommodation change, though. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you again.”
“I’m sure…”
“Okay, got to go! I need to finish cleaning my friend’s kitchen. Can you believe she didn’t know to clean underneath her cabinets? She’s been my best friend for all these years and I never had any idea about this. I wonder what else I don’t know…”
“I know the feeling…”
“Talk to you later, Carter.”
“Talk to you later.” I hung up and took a seat on the couch, shaking my head and trying to process everything.
Her vague letter. Her not sending me an email with her flight information.
Her not acting like my friend.
Shit…
Unable to hold back, I sent her a text,
You couldn’t at least send me an email with your flight information?
I got a response a few hours later:
Sorry. It just slipped my mind…I saw my mom’s text about staying at your place for the weekend…Are you at home now? Just landed. Pretty tired.
I’m here.
Okay. See you soon. On my way.
I took a deep breath and decided to clean up to clear my mind. I walked into the kitchen and put all the dishes away. In case she wanted to talk before going to sleep, I tossed a few pillows and blankets onto the couch, and by the time I’d made the bed in my room, there was a familiar light knock at my door.
