by Ellie Wade
“She doesn’t hate you.” Bass chuckles. “Stop being so dramatic.”
I scoff, “Well, she doesn’t love me. I don’t blame her though. She wanted a partner in crime to go out and meet guys with, someone to laugh incessantly over cute boys and gossip with. Instead, she got me … an emotional wreck, whose only companion is you.”
“Exactly. She got you. She got lucky,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He rubs my arm.
“No,” I disagree. “You got lucky. She got screwed.”
Bass lets out a laugh. “Touché.”
“When’s your dad getting here?”
“Two hours,” he says with a sigh.
My heart hurts for him. “I’m serious when I say that you’re welcome at my house this summer. We have an extra room. You love my family. Come stay with us.”
“No. You know I can’t. A summer of talking football, grunting over fixing up my dad’s old Mustang, and feigning interest in all the women my mom points out at church is the price I pay for getting this place paid for. It’s a small sacrifice not to have student loans looming over my head for the rest of my life.”
“Just tell them, Bass. They love you.” I squeeze his knee.
He bites his lip and stares off, not really focusing on anything. “They know,” he says sadly. “People only listen to what they want to hear.”
“I’m going to miss you like crazy,” I say after a few moments of silence.
“Ditto, babe.”
He lifts his arm from around my shoulders and places it atop my arm that rests on his leg. He threads his fingers through mine and squeezes gently.
“I’ll call you all the time,” I tell him.
“You mean, text,” he says.
“No, I will actually call you.” I grin.
“Good. Because I’ll miss your voice.”
“You know, you can tell your parents that we’re dating if you want. It might stop your mom from trying to set you up with every girl that passes.”
He nods. “True. It’s worth a try.”
“I’ll come to say good-bye to you when your dad picks you up, and I’ll lay my love on thick.”
“Okay, works for me,” he agrees, and the air feels a little lighter.
Bass squeezes my hand and nods toward a guy passing. “Mine or yours?”
I take the guy in—skinny jeans, his walk, his hands as he types something on his phone, his perfectly sculpted hair. He’s cute.
“Yours,” I say confidently.
“Definitely,” Bass agrees.
“You should go say hi,” I offer.
“I should, but then I’d have to leave you. That’s no fun.” Bass nods toward another guy who looks like the jockiest of all the jocks. “Mine or yours?”
“Mine,” I say as Bass says at the same time, “Yours.”
Then, he suggests, “You should go say hi.”
“No, thank you,” I protest, and we both start to laugh.
“And that’s why we’re single,” he says.
I lean my head against his shoulder, “I like being single. You know that. I just need to—”
“Focus on school,” he finishes my sentence for me, and I can almost hear him roll his eyes. “I know but so lame.”
“Sebastian Cleary, you chose this hot mess as your BFF. That’s on you, mister,” I tease.
“What can I say? I know how to pick ’em.” He kisses the top of my head.
We sit on this bench hand in hand in the midst of this gorgeous spring day and play Mine or Yours until we have to head toward Bass’s dorm to meet his dad.
“So, how long are you home for?” I ask Landon as we drive down the highway toward home.
“Just the weekend. I start that internship on Monday, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. What do you think they’ll have you do?” I wonder.
“Probably get them coffee or some shit. Maybe make copies. Not sure, but I can guarantee I won’t be doing anything too cool for a while. But that’s okay. I have to start somewhere. Regardless, after graduation, they could be a good job lead or an awesome reference.”
Leaning my head back against the truck’s headrest, I gaze at Landon in awe. He must feel the weight of my stare because he shoots me a quick look.
“What?” He chuckles.
“I just can’t believe how mature you suddenly seem.”
“Yeah, I guess I was bound to grow up at some point. I feel like this year made me grow up a lot.”
I catch the dip in his voice, but I try not to make it awkward for either of our sakes. “I know what you mean. It was a doozy of a year. Yeah?”
“Totally,” he agrees.
I move my head back and face the window. The rolling hills of corn and soy fields are just starting to come to life. Newly sprouted plants line the field in perfect rows. I’ve always loved the smells, sights, and sounds of spring. Everything’s so fresh and new, giving one the sense that anything is possible. Starting over can be anyone’s reality.
This year was completely out of my comfort zone. Swallowing my pride and accepting the label of depression made me feel like a failure, weak. One moment, my life was amazing, and the next, I was drowning in a misery so deep that I couldn’t breathe. Its grasp on me was so strong that I couldn’t escape without help. It was a humbling experience for someone like me who thought I could do anything, who prescribed to the notion that I alone was in charge of my own destiny.
Depression dwells somewhere between fiction and reality. It magnifies the terrible parts of life while stripping one of the ability to see the good. It imprisons one’s mind, engulfing it with ugliness, sorrow, and despair, locking out the light that one’s soul so desperately needs. As strong as I am, I am no match for it. No one is, and I’ve come to realize that doesn’t make me weak.
It’s taken a lot of work, but I can feel the light surrounding me once more. I can be sad without drowning in it. I can experience something horrible without losing myself to it. I can still find my smile on days when my heart cries with memories of loss.
Landon’s voice cuts into my thoughts as he veers down the exit ramp that leads toward my home.
“I’ll call you if I make it home this summer. I’m assuming I’ll come back for the Fourth of July,” he tells me.
We always spend the holiday with the Porters at their vacation home on Lake Michigan.
“Yeah, you should. The Fourth wouldn’t be the same anywhere else.”
For as long as I can remember, Independence Day has consisted of the soft white sand and clear blue waters of Lake Michigan. There’s always the most stunning firework display over the water each year. I know my family will be there. It wouldn’t be the same without Landon.
We pull into my driveway, and my parents and sisters come running out of the house to greet us.
“Hey, you.” I pull Keeley into a hug.
“So glad to have you home,” my mom says as she holds me tight. She releases me and hugs Landon. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
“No problem,” he says. “I promised my mom that I’d visit when exams were finished. I was driving this way anyway.”
“Yes, I know she has missed you,” Mom tells Landon.
The family helps Landon and me unload my boxes from the bed of his truck and carries them into the house. When it’s all inside, I follow Landon outside.
He wraps his strong arms around my waist and pulls me into a hug. I rest my cheek against his chest and breathe him in. The hug lingers. The stolen moment hints of a past that only we share. The loss of his warmth stings as he pulls away, but I smile just the same.
“I’ll see you.” His hazels pierce my browns.
“See you,” I tell him. “Have a great summer.”
“You, too, Ames.” He steps up into his truck.
I watch as he pulls away. So many emotions weigh heavily on me in this moment, but the one that speaks the loudest is that of relief. Despite everything that’s happened, I started and ended this year with L
andon as one of my best friends.
It’s true that my first year of college wasn’t everything I’d expected it to be. I’ve learned the hard way that even the best-laid plans aren’t foolproof. I would say that, even though my mind was often dark, I never felt alone because of Sebastian. I found moments of contentment each day because of Professor Trueheart. I dug myself out of a deep depression with the guidance of my therapist, Rebecca. I felt loved and accepted because of my parents. I ended the year with good grades because I was too stubborn to fail. And, though I never needed him to, I knew that Landon would catch me if I were to fall again.
I have so much to be grateful for.
Amy
Seven Years Later
Restroom gossip sessions.
Laughter.
True friends.
“I can’t believe it,” I utter in astonishment. “My very own Sebastian Cleary is going to be a dad.”
Bass’s mist-filled honey eyes shine back at me, full of something I’ve never seen in them—unbridled happiness.
I take a sip of the margarita in front of me as a woman and her dog pass on the sidewalk. “I can’t even manage a pet at this stage of my life, and you’re married and expecting.” I shake my head with a chuckle.
The early September rays shine down on our table. The colorful umbrella covering our table casts a multihued glow onto my pale arms. Sitting outside on this warm day at my favorite Mexican restaurant in Ann Arbor with one of my favorite people in the world is my idea of bliss.
“Chica, it’s not a competition. Plus, don’t downplay your life. You got your master’s in nursing. You’re working at one of the best hospitals in the world. You have a live-in boyfriend, which, by the way, how is that going?” He raises an eyebrow as he leans in toward me.
I shrug, thinking of my boyfriend Gage. “Fine, I guess. Good.”
“Fine?” Bass snaps. “Fine? You’ve been living together less than two months. It should still be hot sex twenty-four/seven at this point.”
I laugh, throwing my head back. “It’s definitely not that.”
Bass pouts out his lips in obvious disapproval.
“What?” I argue. “I work a lot of long days. Stop judging.” I scowl in mock annoyance.
“Not an excuse.” He throws a tortilla chip into his mouth. “When are Gage and Landon coming anyway? I’m getting hungry.”
I lift my cell phone to look at the time. “They aren’t coming for another thirty minutes or so. I told them an hour later than we were going to arrive. I wanted some time with you all to myself. I miss you now that you’re across the country.”
The server stops by our table. “Are you ready to order?” she asks.
“No. Apparently, the rest of our party isn’t going to be here for a while. So, if you could keep the chips, salsa, and margaritas coming, that’d be great. My girl here is trying to starve me.” Bass’s tone is full of sass.
“You’re such a diva.”
He flips some nonexistent hair over his shoulder. “A hungry one.”
“How’s Ryan?” I ask of his husband.
“Perfect. And, in case you’re wondering, we do have hot sex twenty-four/seven.”
“I wasn’t, but thanks for the info. I wish he could’ve come. I miss him.”
Bass sucks the remainder of his tequila-infused drink out of the wide-rimmed glass with a loud slurp. “Yeah, he’s the bestest. But someone has to take care of Princess while I’m in London,” Bass says of his and Ryan’s very obnoxious little Chihuahua.
“Do you have a layover here on your way back?”
“No, New York.” He frowns.
Bass is only here for the day on a long layover from his flight to England where he’s going to meet with some fancy designer for a client. He works as a fashion buyer out in Los Angeles—a very sought-after one at that. I’m so proud of him.
I push the basket of chips toward him—or more accurately, away from me. If I eat another bite, I’m going to be too full for dinner. “So, tell me how the surrogate process works. Tell me all about Lindsay. When are you going to find out what the sex is? Is she going to stay in the baby’s life after he or she is born? I want to know everything.” I clap my hands in eager anticipation for all the details he can give me, some of which I already know the answer to. But, all of the information that I know so far, I learned over the phone. It’s just not the same as hearing it from my best friend, face-to-face. Despite the distance that now separates me and Bass, we’ve remained extremely close.
“Lindsay is just amazing.” He starts by telling me all about their surrogate. His entire face lights up as he speaks all about the life that he and Ryan have built together and the plans they have for their new family.
“And your parents?”
“My mom’s happy that she’s going to be a grandma. My dad still has some warming up to do, but I know, once he sees the baby, he’ll be okay.”
“How could he not?”
Though his parents won’t be raising a rainbow flag in their yard anytime soon, they’ve come a long way since I first met them, which makes me happy for Bass. If anyone deserves love, it’s the man sitting across from me.
“And you won’t know who the biological father is?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. The egg was mixed with some of Ryan’s swimmers and some of mine. I suppose, if the child strongly resembles one of us, it will be pretty obvious. It doesn’t matter though. All we want is a healthy baby.”
I lean back in my chair. “I’m so happy for you. Like, insanely happy. You have no idea.”
His full lips tilt up into a gorgeous smile. “I know you are, and I’m happy for you, chica.” He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “You have the job you always wanted, a house of your own, and a boyfriend you love enough to want to live with. I mean, we’re doing great, the two of us. We did good.”
“Yeah.” I nod slowly. “We’re good.”
“Did someone say boyfriend?” Gage grabs my shoulders from behind, and I startle. “Hey, you.” He kisses me on the top of my head before reaching across the table to shake Bass’s hand. “What’s up, man? How’s it going?”
“Great,” Bass answers Gage.
Gage takes a seat beside me and raises his hand in the air, waving down the waitress, who is taking the order of another table.
“She’ll come over when she’s done,” I tell him.
He snaps his finger in the direction of the server, who is hastily scribbling onto her pad of paper, her eyes darting nervously toward Gage every few seconds. I reach across him and grab his forearm, pulling it down.
“Do not snap at her. Are you serious?” I tell him with a roll of my eyes.
“What? It’s funny.” He chuckles.
“It’s not. It’s rude.” I shoot an apologetic glance toward Bass and mouth the words, I’m sorry, to the woman who’s clearly afraid to come deal with my obnoxious boyfriend.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks him when she makes it to our table.
“Yes!” He claps his hands together. “Two Dos Equis, please. That’s two bottles.” He holds up two fingers. “Making up for lost time, you know.” And he actually winks at the poor girl.
“Oh, I’ll get in on this order. Can I have a Dos Equis as well, please? Babe, what do you want?” Landon, who’s now standing beside our table, asks his girlfriend, Abby.
“What are you drinking, Ames?”
I hold up my beverage. “Margaritas,” I say, tilting my glass in her direction.
“I’ll take one of those, too—strawberry, if you have it. Thanks,” she tells the waitress.
The server scurries off, all too eagerly, as Landon and Abby greet everyone.
“Yeah, Bass, this is Abby,” I tell him.
“Hi.” She waves. “Amy and Landon have told me all about you. It’s so nice meeting you. I’m trying to keep all of Landon’s friends straight. I’ve been introduced to so many. We’ve only been dating for three weeks n
ow, right, love?” she asks Landon.
“Yeah, something like that,” he replies.
The two of them sit next to Bass, across from me and Gage.
Landon pulls Bass into a side hug. “Good to see you, man. Where’s Ryan?”
“Home with Princess. Just a short visit this time.”
“That’s right. You fly out tonight. I remember Amy saying something about that.”
“Unfortunately,” I sigh.
“Next visit will be for longer,” Bass says. “So, what’s new with you?” he asks Landon.
The five of us chat over steamy plates of tacos and many refills of beverages. Landon, Bass, and I have been pretty tight since my sophomore year in college. Some of my best memories of my early twenties were spent with those two men by my side. I miss this.
“Nice!” Gage yells in response to something Landon just said.
My body stiffens in response to the sudden outburst. Okay, I don’t miss this.
Truthfully, the dinner would be better without Gage and Abby, but I plaster on a smile and try to embrace the different personalities that are currently pushing in on my Landon and Bass time.
“That game was ridiculous on Saturday,” Bass tells Landon.
The two of them love talking University of Michigan football together.
“It was a joke.” Landon emphasizes the last word. “Seriously, they lost to a Division II school.”
“You think the whole season’s going to blow?” Bass asks.
Landon shrugs. “Not sure. Let’s hope it was just an off week.”
“I slept with a U of M football player once,” Abby interjects, causing the conversation to halt.
After a beat, Bass says, “Cool?” His response comes out as almost a question.
He gives me a look and rolls his eyes. I bite my lips to stop myself from laughing.
“I didn’t realize you went to Michigan, Abby,” I say.
“I didn’t,” she responds, her mouth full of burrito.
“Oh, okay.”
Gage’s elbow bumps mine, and I look to my side to see him staring intently at the screen of his phone, invested in a game of Angry Birds. I stop myself from saying anything to him about it.
I pin Bass with a stare before standing up from the table. “I’ll be back,” I tell the table.
