by Celeste, B.
“Diner it is.”
I direct us across the street, putting my arm in front of her when a car speeds past us going well over the limit. She rolls her eyes at my basic instinct but doesn’t push my arm away. When we’re inside Pop’s Diner, we’re greeted by Patty, one of my personal favorite waitresses, and take a seat at one of the side booths.
Neither of us look at the menus Patty sets down before we shoot off an order. Two milkshakes, one vanilla, one chocolate, and two cheeseburgers with everything on it, and fries. Patty smirks knowingly and swipes up the menus, putting in our usual. We used to come here a lot, but it has been a few months.
My eyes take in the modern diner. It’s not like the fifties-style you always see on television. The walls are light yellow, the wood paneling is dark brown like the tables and chairs, and the upholstery of the booths are red. Soft music plays from the speakers at the corners of the dining room, some eighties song I don’t know well.
I glance at River, who’s fiddling with her thumbs on the table. “You know what would make this place even better?”
Her lips quirk. “Patty already told you that they won’t cut up apples and give us peanut butter.”
A grin tilts my lips at our shared love of the snack. Maybe it’s stupid, possibly pathetic, but I love that we have something that’s ours and only ours. It makes me chuckle. “I don’t know, I feel like I can wear her down.”
Patty shows up and sets down our milkshakes and two straws. “No, you can’t. But nice try, kid.”
She reminds me of Margaret, who I need to see soon. Her daughter gives me updates on her health since she’s slowly slipping, which I guess is expected at eighty-two. I think she’ll be gone by Christmas, and the thought tears me apart. She’s the only thing I have left that’s a reminder of Granddad. Of family.
River’s voice breaks me out of the heartbreaking thought. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
She knows I’m lying but chooses not to comment. “Thanks for suggesting this. I was just going to pour myself some cereal.”
“Let me guess,” I muse, “Frosted Flakes?”
She ducks her head. “Maybe.”
I poke her with her unopened straw. “Thought so. I’m surprised you haven’t had a cavity with all the sweets you eat.”
Now she makes eye contact with me, her lips twitching in amusement. “And who’s to blame for that? Those candy bars didn’t just magically appear in my locker.”
“It’s plausible.”
“Mmhm.”
“And,” I add, “you’re welcome. I truthfully didn’t want to go home and heat up leftovers. I’ve needed a burger for a solid week now.”
“Why haven’t you gotten one then?”
I shrug. “Been busy.”
Plus, I cooked for Issy and me. Three times out of the week, she would leave right after getting home from work, leaving me alone to eat chicken salad or garlic roasted pork chops. Hell, if I knew she was going to give me the cold shoulder, I would have made burgers sooner or grilled up some steak.
Changing the subject seems necessary right now, before the tension grows in the silence. “How’s everything been with work and school? Oliver mentioned you’ve been swamped.”
After Oliver announced the big move to his family, he called me up and we made plans to grab lunch. I can’t say I’m surprised that he wants to get out of the state. He loves his family, but he loves traveling more. It’s all he ever talked about growing up.
“Bridgeport just doesn’t have what I need, you know?”
I don’t know, because Bridgeport has the very thing I need and it’s sitting across from me right now.
“I’ve been using the classes I teach with the foster kids as experience toward my field hours and student teaching for school,” she explains. She proceeds to tell me about doubling her credits to try graduating a semester early, but she doesn’t think she can. I tell her she can do anything. She blushes again.
Knowing River’s determination means she’ll succeed. She’s driven to prove herself to the world, to the people in her past who told her she’ll never make it. Now she has not only a high school diploma and bachelor’s degree, she’s about to have a master’s degree, too. As far as I’m concerned, they can kiss her ass.
We’re quiet after our food arrives, concentrating on the steaming plates in front of us. I want to tease her when she dips her fry into her milkshake. She used to call me disgusting when I would do that very same thing.
“So … how are things with you?” she inquires after nibbling on her pile of fries. Patty knows how much she loves them, so she always gets more than the usual helping, which means I can steal some.
Swallowing my burger and wiping off my mouth and fingers with a napkin, I give her a small nod. “Good.”
“Good. That’s … yeah, good.”
More silence.
I sigh. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us, River.”
She meets my eyes. “I disagree.”
“Fine. Let’s talk about it.”
“Talk about why I disagree?”
I nod once.
She stares at me like I’m crazy.
“Okay,” I press, “I’ll start. We’ve been friends for, what? Ten years. We’ve eaten lunch together too many times to count. I know what it’s like to see you closed up, and what it’s like to see you pissed off. Frankly, I’ve seen everything in between. This—” I gesture between us with my pointer finger. “—is bullshit. We’re friends. Nothing has changed.”
“Everything has changed, Everett.”
“Why?”
Her eyes narrow. “You know why.” She says it under her breath, side-eying an older couple sitting near us at the counter as if they care what we’re talking about.
“What we did is natural. It’s—”
“Cheating,” she hisses under her breath, voice cracking and pained.
I cringe at the word, at the reality and truth of it. It makes my chest ache in ways I can’t describe. Not for me, for Issy.
“What?” she doubts, breaking a fry in half and staring at the soft interior. “I’m sorry if you don’t like that word, but it’s what we did. We both know it.”
“I’m not denying that.”
“Then don’t deny that it was a mistake.”
“It—” I shut my mouth when she shoots daggers at me for trying to do exactly what she said not to. But I want to drill it in her head that it’s a lot of things—perfect, heart stopping, memory inducing, but not a mistake.
Leaning over my half-eaten burger, I lock eyes with her. “I have done a lot of shit things in my life, and I won’t deny that hurting Isabel is one of them. But things between us are complicated beyond understanding, River.”
“So uncomplicate them.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why?”
I don’t answer, instead, I lean back and pick up my burger to take another bite.
River wraps her hand around her glass and shakes her head. “I want to understand why you’re with a woman that you don’t love. You’ve told me over and over that you do, but I don’t buy it. Nobody does, Everett, except Robert.”
Telling River about the promise I made to Isabel is going to ruin the perfect night we’re having. In fact, this entire conversation could take a turn for the worse. It could sever our friendship completely. I would ruin her if she ever found out the truth.
“I do love her,” is what I come up with.
“Bull.”
“I do,” I grind out, jaw ticking. Sighing, I set my burger back down and rub my jaw. “I will always have a special place in my heart for Isabel, okay? We’ve been through a lot together. Ten years of being in a relationship means a lot to people, to us. It means we have a lot of history.”
River plays with the lettuce on her burger, which only has a few tiny bites taken out of it. “I can see that,” she admits. “But I also know that’s your default answer when the real one is too much f
or you to admit.”
Drawing back like I’ve been struck, I stare blankly at her. “What are you talking about?”
Her dinner is now long forgotten as she meets my confused gaze. “When I was fourteen, you told me I’d always be your number one. Do you remember that?” I nod. “When I was fifteen, you told me I’d always have you. In fact, you say that to me at least five times a year. Not that I’m counting or anything. Then, when I was sixteen, you told me you rejected me because I deserved someone better, someone my age who was worth my time. But my favorite is just shy of my high school graduation, when you came up to my bedroom after I walked in on you and Isabel kissing by the pool while Ollie and that chick he was with at the time swam. You knew I was upset, said I had every right to be, but do you remember what you said right after that?”
My mouth seems impossibly dry right now, and my throat feels like something is jammed in it. Emotion. That’s what it is.
“You’ll always have a special place in my heart, River.” That’s what I told her that night after seeing her distraught face. That single sentence eased some of her pain like I hoped it would. It wasn’t a lie. River James will always have a special place in my heart. Just like Issy.
She dunks another fry in her milkshake. “So, you see, that’s what you tell people when you can’t face the truth. It’s a cop-out.”
My fists automatically clench at the accusation. “That isn’t a cop-out, River. It’s far from it.”
Her brow raises, as if to say, is that so?
I shove my plate away from me, and it clinks into my untouched milkshake that’s more like cold soup at this point. “I can’t explain to you how ridiculous it is that you don’t see how much you mean to me. I don’t tell just anyone that they have a place in my heart. I’m not an asshole.”
Her silence is like a slap to the face.
Finally, she replies, “It seems like you’re just as lost as me. Sometimes I wonder if we’re too much alike, trying to find our ways in this heinous world. But then I think how stupid I’m being, because we’re nothing alike. You have friends. You have a girlfriend. You have a nice apartment, a great job, money, and a future. What do I have? A crush on somebody who I can’t be with. Who isn’t mine to have feelings for, but the very person I can never get enough of.”
Her words halt my breathing. “I’ve always been yours, River.”
She shakes her head, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. “You were never mine.”
I watch her sip on her milkshake and eat her fries and nibble on her burger, all while she avoids looking at me.
“Tell you what,” I bargain, “I’ll tell you about Isabel and me when you tell me about the scars I know you’re hiding under your clothes.”
She sucks in a breath.
“Yeah,” I murmur more harshly than I intended, “didn’t think so.”
I ask for the check.
23
River / 23
Walking out of the Leavenworth Liberal Arts building on campus, I note the dark clouds rolling across the gray sky. I’m not even half way to the bus stop when a raindrop hits my cheek, then all hell breaks loose, leaving me bolting to the nearest building.
Drenched and cursing at myself when I see my ruined notes from class, I glance out the double doors I’m hiding behind and watch the rain shower the earth. Sighing, I set my stuff down on a plastic chair against the wall and ring out my thick hair, tying it up in a bun so the wet strands don’t cling to my neck and cheeks.
My cell phone died an hour ago. I can practically hear Bridgette chastising me in my head about how I should always carry a charger in my bag. Half the time, I don’t even use my phone, much less remember where my charger is.
A black clock on the wall tells me it’s almost eight pm. I’m not sure when the rain will let up, but it doesn’t look like any time soon. Clearly, I chose the wrong day to walk to school.
Robert always tells me to check the weather before I leave my apartment. I didn’t do that either. Go me.
Before I figure out my next move, the other set of double doors across the tiny entry open behind me.
There’s a grumbled murmur before a familiar voice says, “River?”
My body stiffens as I turn to face Isabel. She’s in a raincoat, because she must have watched the weather channel. Her dark hair is highlighted with caramel strands and pulled off to one side. She’s got on shiny black rain boots that reach her mid-shin, protecting her tight jeans from the oncoming rain.
Clearing my throat, I give her a lame little wave. “H-Hi, Isabel. Um, what are you doing here?”
It’s none of my business, and I don’t expect her to answer. Everett isn’t here for her to put up a front. She can be as mean and miserable as she wants.
Shifting her large, expensive-looking purse over her shoulder, she glances between me and the outside doors. “I’ve got an old college friend that works here. She’s a biology professor.”
I nod, unsure of what to say. Cool? I hope you had a nice visit? I stick with silence.
She sighs, and I can only imagine it’s in irritation. “Do you need a ride or something?”
My eyes widen over her kind offer. “Oh, um, n-no. I’m good. I’m sure the rain will let up soon.”
Studying me for a moment, she finally blows out a sharp breath and then shakes her head. “It’s supposed to storm the rest of the night. Come on, I’m parked in the visitor parking just over there.”
My stomach bottoms out. Being alone in a car with Isabel Allen sounds terrifying, and not just because she obviously hates me. She seems like the kind of person who can smell fear and guilt, and I’m sweating it from every pore at this point. I mean, I slept with her boyfriend of ten years, the guy she’s supposed to marry one day. What kind of person does that make me?
“I really don’t think—”
“Everett would kill me if I left you here. Just because we’re not on great terms doesn’t mean I want him to hate me any more than he already does.” Once the words are out, she winces and swears. “Forget I said that. Grab your stuff and let’s go.”
But I can’t forget. She’s more open about whatever is going on between them than Everett, and it doesn’t sit well with me. For some crazy reason, I begin gathering my things and follow her to the doors. She hits the unlock button as we speed walk toward the black sports car and we both quickly climb in.
The sound of the rain splattering against the car is the only thing I focus on as I buckle the seatbelt. She’s quiet too as she starts the vehicle and blasts the heat, then turns on the lights and wipers.
I clench my soiled notebooks in my lap and look out the window as she pulls out of the spot and toward the road leading off campus. Most people are out of classes by this time of night, though some grad students have classes until almost ten. Been there, done that. I switched to earlier classes and made it work around my studio schedule. Thankfully, I have no social life to ruin.
Isabel reaches out for the radio, but then pulls her hand away. “Do you like music?”
My brows arch. “Y-Yeah?”
She gives me a funny look. “Can I ask you a question?”
Everything inside me stops. My heart lurches to my throat and chokes me, but somehow, I nod, despite the fear clenching my stomach.
Her hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel. “Did you see Everett last week for dinner?”
Relief filters through my body. I thought her suspicion of our escapades was about to be announced in the form of screaming. “We went to the diner for burgers,” I answer quietly.
“At least you’re telling the truth.”
Did Everett lie to her about our innocent dinner?
“He told me he was at the fire station,” she informs me quietly, as if reading my mind. Her voice is nothing more than a murmur, and I detect humility in her, emotions I haven’t seen her wear before.
I’m an awful person.
Feeling bad for her, I try relinquishing some of her doubt. �
��He might have gone after we ate. He left before he finished eating and I don’t know if he went home or not. I mean … I guess he didn’t, or you’d know. So, yeah. He probably went to the station.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks over my rambling. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t care, she normally wouldn’t. But her eyes do seem to lighten over the idea.
He purposefully held back telling her we had dinner together. Isabel already hates me for some unknown reason. I’ll never be her favorite person and he probably didn’t want to start another fight between the two of them.
There’s a burning question that I tell myself not to ask, but my heart outweighs my brain’s sense of logic. “Do you love him?”
For the first time since we got into the car, she turns her focus fully on me. “Of course I do, River. That’s a stupid question.”
I wet my chapped bottom lip. It stings but I ignore it. “I just …”
“What?” she snaps, and I feel slightly better knowing she sounds like herself again. It quickly goes away when those narrowed eyes burn mine like oil to a fire.
Fiddling with my hands on my lap, I take a deep breath. “I just know that you two aren’t, uh, engaged or anything and you mentioned that you haven’t been on great terms. Sometimes people … fall out of love, I guess. It happened with my brother.”
Using Oliver as a cover is weak, and I acknowledge that. But telling Isabel what she’s suspected for years now—that I’m in love with her boyfriend—is not an option, especially not in a moving vehicle she’s currently operating.
“Oliver and Everett aren’t alike when it comes to relationships.” Her tone isn’t as bitter as I expected. It’s level and oddly calm. “Everett and I have gone through … some stuff. We’ve broken up and gotten back together and have a lot of baggage.”
“What makes you come back?”
Her laugh is cold, chilling away any humanity she showed before. “He comes back to me. I admit, I only got together with him in the first place because he was a mystery. Girls like mysteries, right?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “But then I got him, and then his grandpa died and he got … I don’t know, dark? Lonely? The excitement of it all kind of faded.”
