Forgotten

by Jennifer Sucevic

  She doesn't answer immediately. Finally, after a tense silence stretches agonizingly between us, she sighs as if she's just as unhappy by the answer as I am. "Yeah."

  "How long have you felt this way?"

  How could I have been duped by the two people I care most about? Has Shay been lying to me for years? Wait a minute. I don't even know if it's been going on for that long. I'm assuming she's liked him for years. This could be a new development but, for some reason, I get the feeling it's not. I think about the revolving door of boyfriends that never seemed to mean very much to her. I think about how she never really wanted to hear about any problems Callen and I were having and one piece of the puzzle suddenly slides into place.

  She shrugs her slender shoulders. It's an economical movement as her eyes dart nervously away from my face. "Ninth grade."

  "What!" I don't mean to shout the word but I can't seem to stop myself. She's liked him ever since ninth grade? That's two years! Two years! She's been lying to me, carrying a torch for my boyfriend for two whole years! This is un-freaking-believable!

  Un

  Be

  Liv

  Able!

  That word just keeps looping through my head. And every time it does, it gets louder and louder and louder.

  Other customers are now craning their heads trying to get a better look at us. Even the baristas behind the counter are staring with curiosity in our direction. I watch Shay sink further down onto her wooden chair and I'm pretty sure she's wishing she hadn't decided to do this at our favorite coffee house where the atmosphere is quiet and low key. Her face flames. I'm surprised she hasn't self-combusted from mortification.

  When I'm finally able to wrap my mind around actual words, I spit them at her, albeit I try to lower my voice before we're both tossed out on our butts and told never to return. "Why didn't you say something? I thought we were best friends?"

  "And when exactly was I supposed to do that?" Suddenly there's a bitter edge lacing her voice.

  "Oh, I don't know," I roll my eyes, "how about any time within the last two years?"

  She snorts. "What good would that have done? You were already going out. You two were," she makes bunny ears quotation marks with her fingers, "the perfect couple. And he loved you. There was no point in telling you. It would have just made everything weird."

  I notice that she doesn't say I loved him in return.

  "You should have told me anyway." I sit back, folding my arms across my chest. Mostly because I'm not sure what else to do with them. I'm still reeling from her confession.

  Shay sighs, her shoulders slumping forward with the movement. "Look, Callen only had eyes for you. I like him," she jerks her shoulders in a quick movement like it doesn't really matter, "but he doesn't see me as anything more than a friend. And you..." her words trail off. She looks a little more confused. Maybe even a little unsure just how to proceed. "Honestly," she holds my eyes again before saying slowly, "I don't know what you felt for him. I know you loved him but it never seemed like you loved him."

  She's right of course. I think back, realizing that I never really understood the difference before. I never understood that there could be, should be, more. That I should have felt more for Callen. Been able to give him more in return. I wanted it to be enough, but it never was.

  For either of us.

  For some reason, it seems so obvious now that I didn't love Callen the way he deserved to be loved. I was fooling myself and him. But apparently I wasn't fooling Shay. I look back at what Callen and I shared and it seems, at least on my part, like I was simply going through the motions of having a boyfriend. I gasp as that thought crashes through my head because that's exactly what it felt like. Shay watches me closely. There's a strange expression on her face but she doesn't say anything more.

  "You're right." I admit quietly. I owe her the same kind of honesty she's given to me. "I never loved him like that. I should have... but I didn't. At the time I didn't really understand the difference. I wish I'd realized it sooner. I wouldn't have put either one of us through this." Then I amend, "I wouldn't have put any of us through this."

  An emotion looking very much like relief sweeps across her face and for the first time in almost two weeks, she looks like the old Shay who has always been my best friend. "I'm sorry. No matter what I felt and you didn't, I shouldn't have slept with him. I never meant to hurt you."

  For the first time in a long time, it feels like something in my life has finally, finally slid back into place. "I know."

  "I don't want to lose your friendship because of this."

  When she says the words this time, I look at her honestly before replying, "You won't." I glance down at my coffee before gazing back up as she finally takes a sip. "It's going to take a lot more than you screwing one of my ex-boyfriends to end this friendship."

  She chokes, spewing her mocha latte across the tiny table. And even though I have whipped cream and mocha droplets sprayed across the front of my shirt, the look on her face is completely priceless.

  I can't help but laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I just can't bear to look at the sketches anymore.

  Especially the one of the boy.

  For some reason, it breaks my heart all over again, filling me with such an indescribable longing and sadness that simply trying to understand it seems beyond the scope of my ability. And it scares me because I honestly have no idea if this was ever real or if it was just some crazy fantasy I concocted in my head.

  And so I've decided to put the sketches and the strange list in the back of my closet where I can't easily get to them. Every single time I tried throwing them away in the garbage can, I would fish them out within moments of doing so with a pounding heart like I was committing some kind of capital offense. So, for now, they're buried safely in the back of my closet.

  Ever so slowly I'm trying to wean myself from them and the strange hold they seem to have over me because clearly I'm obsessed.

  The fact that I can't talk to anyone about all this is enough to tell me that I have a problem. The good news is that I haven't dug around in my closet for the drawings. Not even once. The bad news is that I think about him constantly. He's always there lurking around in the back of my mind. Frustratingly elusive but always present. I remind myself that it takes a lot of baby steps to get better. I'm like an addict. And I'm trying to detox all by myself. Maybe I can find a twelve step program for girls who are addicted to handsome imaginary boys.

  Wow, that sounded so much more pathetic than even I imagined it would.

  My cell chimes and I pick it up before glancing at the screen.

  Can we talk?

  Seeing the number, my heart skips a beat.

  Callen.

  Even though I hashed everything out with Shay a few days ago, I still haven't spoken with Callen. I know I should but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. I guess I wanted a little bit more time to work through everything in my head.

  I bite down on my lower lip wondering what to do. Finally my fingers hesitantly move across the screen.

  Where?

  I hit send. My phone chimes instantly in response.

  Backyard?

  My eyes go to the window before I hesitantly step towards it. For some reason this feels like deja vu. The tempo of my heartbeat kicks up a notch. The last time this happened, it wasn't Callen at all. It was... my brows furrow as I think about that night in the woods. Whoever it was put his hands over my eyes. And there was this strange energy that flowed between us when we touched. I thought it was Callen but... it wasn't. I wrack my brain trying to piece something together in my head. I have the feeling that I'm missing something important.

  The boy in the woods.

  He was familiar.

  Why did he seem so familiar?

  It's just one more thing I can't make sense of.

  Anyway, whoever it was, he's gone now... isn't he?

  My heart slams painfully against the wall
of my chest. And suddenly hope is soaring within me. With trembling fingers, I quickly pull back the curtain. And I see him standing beneath my window.

  Callen.

  Not... not the other boy.

  Not the one from the woods and the dance. And from... from... I can't remember. I can't remember anymore. I never really got a good look at him. At the dance, a black mask covered his face. And in the woods, he was always standing behind me.

  Callen raises a tentative hand in greeting and I give a little wave in return as a strange disappointment washes over me. Quickly shoving that thought to the back of my mind, I grab a hoodie before walking slowly down the stairs. My feet are dragging. There's a fair amount of dread filling me. I poke my head into my parent's study. They're both busy typing away at their computers.

  "I'll be in the backyard for a little bit."

  My dad frowns. "Oh? Another art project?"

  I clear my throat uncomfortably. "Um, no. Callen's here. We're going to talk."

  They raise their brows in perfect unison. If I wasn't feeling kind of sick to my stomach right now I would laugh at their twin comical expressions.

  "Ohhh," my dad finally says.

  "Okay," my mom adds. Her wide eyes dart to my dad. "Call us if you need anything." She holds my gaze a moment longer than necessary. Not sure what else to do, I nod stiffly.

  When I open the back door, he's right there on the other side waiting for me. He smiles but it doesn't quite reach his normally bright blue eyes. I shove my hands into the front of my hoodie pocket as my feet grind to a sudden halt.

  Awkward silence descends upon us.

  We stand there, neither of us saying a word. Both of us looking anywhere but at each other. Uncomfortable has nothing on this. It's that terrible.

  Finally Callen clears his throat, "Want to sit on the swings?"

  Relieved to no longer be looking everywhere but at him, I nod gratefully. In silence we quickly cross the yard to the wooden swing set before each of us grab a seat. His feet start pushing the swing so that it moves just a bit. I follow suit because it feels good to focus on something other than the reason he's here.

  The whole reason we need to talk.

  Crickets fill in the blanks that should be our conversation. We pump our legs, letting the swings arc slowly back and forth. The wind slides across my face as the swing curves forward and something about the simple movement makes whatever this is between us feel just a little bit lighter. A little bit easier. Finally my eyes find his. He looks no happier about this than I am. I've known Callen forever. He was the first friend I remember having simply because his family was constantly around. No matter what, he's always been my friend. What he did with Shay was hurtful but maybe I wasn't being completely fair to him. I think back to all the times I questioned my feelings for him. Why didn't I just let him go then? Why did I continue with the charade? The pretense that everything was fine between us?

  Because I kept thinking that at some point everything would finally fall into place between us?

  Because I was afraid of letting him go?

  Because I didn't want him belonging to someone else?

  Because I was scared of losing his friendship?

  Yes to all of them.

  Realizing all this, I decide that maybe I should be the one to start the conversation. He owes me an apology but I owe him one as well. I should have ended our relationship a long time ago. Instead I let it drag on and that wasn't fair to either one of us.

  "I'm sorry."

  He looks completely taken aback. His eyes widen before he quickly shakes his head as if protesting my words. "What?" He laughs a little awkwardly, eyeing me as if I'm crazy.

  He has no idea just how close to the truth he actually is.

  "You have nothing to apologize for, Lili. I'm the one who needs to apologize." He stops, thinking about what he wants to say. "I shouldn't have slept with Shay." His expression is so tortured that I can't help but reach over and squeeze his hand.

  "It's okay." My words are soft just as, surprisingly, my heart is.

  His eyes hold mine and I realize just how much he's hurting. "I don't know what I was thinking." He stops before his shoulders slump, "Look, I didn't come here to make excuses. What I did was wrong and I'm really sorry for hurting you. I never meant for it to happen."

  My lips tilt up at the corners. "I know. I didn't want to hurt you either. I'm only now realizing that I did."

  Looking perplexed, he shakes his head. "I don't understand. You never did anything to hurt me."

  I glance down at my sneakers, nudging one of the toes into the hard packed earth. "You know that I love you, that I've always loved you." I look up at him, needing him to understand what lies in my heart. "As a friend."

  His face freezes as he processes my words.

  I rush on because the last thing I want is to hurt him anymore than I already have but I also don't want him heaping all this blame onto himself. There were two of us involved in this relationship and there's enough responsibility to go around. "I think that's why I had such a hard time," I pause trying to find the right words, "I think that's why sleeping together never felt right."

  I see his eyes widen in the darkness as he continues to digest my words.

  "I'm sorry for that. I should have realized sooner that it wasn't going to work between us. That there wasn't ever going to be a right time." I hold my hand out to him again. Slowly he takes it. I see him turning my words over in his head.

  He's silent for a long time, his eyes focused straight ahead. A little ball of nervousness begins rolling around in my belly. "Say something," I plead quietly. I'm laying all this on the line for him because at the core of it, he's still my friend. One of my closest friends and I don't want that to lose that. I need him in my life.

  "I wish I could say that this is a surprise but... it's not. I guess hearing you admit it is a surprise but when I think about it, I know you're right." Finally he squeezes my hand in return. "I guess I just kept hoping you would suddenly wake up and feel differently. That you would want to be with me the way I wanted to be with you."

  "I'm sorry, Callen. I never meant to hurt you... but I did. It was selfish of me to not be honest with you. But I guess I wasn't being very honest with myself either."

  He looks up at the stars that punctuate the velvety night sky with pinpoints of light. "I wish it could be different between us."

  "Me, too." But I tried for three years to make it different. Our relationship was never going to be what either one of us wanted it to be.

  He spears me with his deep blue eyes. "I'm really sorry for sleeping with Shay. I shouldn't have done it. I was so mad at you for rejecting me..."

  His words, even though we're moving past it, still stab at me. The fact that he wanted to hurt me and used my best friend, his friend too, to do it still aches. Still sits uncomfortably between us. Even though we're both sorry, even though we're both responsible, it's still there between us. I think it's going to take some time for us to move past this, to find our way back to being friends the way we used to be before we ever tried to be something more.

  I take a deep breath wondering if he realizes just how much Shay cares for him. My guess is that he doesn't and I'm not about to enlighten him either. Not because I don't want them together. It's a little too soon (not to mention awkward) for me to be matchmaking for my ex-boyfriend. Especially with Shay. Shay is the one who needs to declare her feelings for Callen, not me. Whatever happens, or doesn't happen, is for them to decide.

  Just as I open my mouth to apologize one last time he cuts me off.

  "Don't say it!"

  One side of my mouth quirks upward in the darkness. "Okay, I won't. You'll never get another apology out of me again."

  He snorts. "Well, I wouldn't go that far." Then he sobers. For just a fraction of a moment, it felt like it used to between us. Easy. I hope one day we can get back to that place again. It won't happen overnight but it's a nice place to aim for.

/>   We swing a little bit longer and this time there are no awkward, stilted silences between us. It feels a little bit like it used to when we were kids. Knowing that I've worked everything out with Callen is like having a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. We swing for a while trying to see who can climb higher in the air. We laugh and joke around and it feels so wonderful to have a few pieces of my life finally slide back to normal.

  Not everything.

  But enough for tonight.

  Right now, in this moment, it's enough.

  For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I'm just tightening the laces of my pink running shoes when my mom breezes into the kitchen. She's wearing a pretty, light gray suit with a lavender silk blouse peeking out from beneath it. Any other day I wouldn't think anything about it, but today is Saturday and my mom usually doesn't work on the weekends. She smiles before her lips begin moving.

  Pulling my ear buds out, I say, "What?"

  She chuckles before grabbing a large coffee cup from the cabinet. "I asked if you were going for a run."

  One side of my mouth quirks up. "Nothing gets past you, counselor." My eyes shine with humor.

  She deadpans before her lips finally twitch upwards as well. "That's why they pay me the big bucks- my keen sense of observation."

  "Must be." Standing up, my eyes slide over her once again. "How come you're all fancy today?"

  "I'm meeting with a new client this morning. Normally I wouldn't schedule anything for a Saturday, but she's from out of town and wasn't able to meet during the week. I should be back in a few hours. Maybe we can grab some lunch later? Indulge in a little retail therapy?"

  I smile in response. "That sounds good."

  She eyes me for a moment longer before saying softly, "It's nice to see you back to your normal self again, Lili. I'm not going to lie," she pours a cup of coffee before continuing, "you really had us worried."

  Almost unwillingly my mind tumbles back to those first dark weeks after homecoming. So much of it feels like a blur of raw emotion and bizarre images. Feelings that don't quite make sense and that staggering, almost crippling, sense of loss... as if something precious had been ripped away from me. Which I still can't explain, but the feelings were there none the less.