“You coming home for the summer?”
“Yeah. I have to be out of my apartment by next week, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. I guess it depends on how long it takes me to get a job.” She takes a sip of water the waitress had brought over.
“Where have you applied?”
“There’s a spot in New York that just opened, and I have applications out in Georgia, North Carolina, and Florida.”
Wow, those are all pretty far. “What did you end up majoring in? Journalism or social work?”
“I went with journalism.”
When we were in high school, she talked about going into social work to help kids in her situation that maybe weren’t as fortunate. Her mom decided she couldn’t take care of Mia anymore, and if it weren’t for Mr. Avery, who knows what would have happened to her. A lot of kids don’t have someone else to take care of them and go into the system. So I’m a little surprised to hear she didn’t pursue it. “Really? You were always a good writer, so I guess it makes sense.”
“Yeah, I saved your ass on a few papers if I remember correctly,” she says with a smirk.
I let out a chuckle. “Well, if I remember correctly, someone was going to fail the eighth grade if it weren’t for my amazing math skills.”
She laughs too. “Okay, we’ll call it even.”
“Deal.”
June 2006
After I got back from seeing Mia at her graduation, we started texting each other here and there. At first it was maybe once a day, but the frequency slowly increased to several times a day. I’ll hand in my man card if I need to, but every time my phone would ping with a new text, I’d grin like an idiot. I can’t help it, she makes me happy.
It wasn’t long after that, that we started actually talking on the phone, and a few weeks after she moved back to Tennessee, we decided to meet up for some coffee as friends. So that’s what I’m doing here, waiting for her to walk through the door.
I’m normally not this nervous to meet up with a friend, but none of them are Mia. I grab us a quiet table in a corner and sit facing the door. My knee bounces as I anxiously wait for her to get here. After going three years without seeing her face, these last four weeks have been torture.
You have to play it cool, Blake. Don’t make this more than it is. Just two old friends having some coffee and catching up.
My mind tells me this over and over, but my heart beats furiously against my chest, knowing the one it belongs to is close by.
The bell above the door dings, catching my attention. Mia searches the room before her eyes fall on mine. I swear every time I see her is like the first time. She’s stunning even in her jeans and tank top.
“Hey,” she says cheerfully.
“Hey,” I reply back. I don’t know if I should stand up and give her a hug, a handshake, a wave, or just sit here. Man, this is so awkward.
“Did you order already?”
“No, I was waiting for you. What do you want?” Mia and I weren’t coffee drinkers when we graduated high school, so I have no idea what she’ll order.
“A regular coffee, black, please.”
“Like it strong, do you?”
She shrugs. “Worked faster when I needed to stay up for finals.”
I place our orders and bring them back to our table when they’re ready. We both sip from our cups, careful not to burn ourselves. My eyes fixate on her lips momentarily as they blow on her hot coffee. I can clearly remember the last time we—
“So, what have you been up to this summer so far?” she asks.
I blink several times to get my head back where it belongs. “Nothing really, just working. What about you? Do you have any plans?”
“Nope, just trying to get a job.”
“Being an adult sucks, right?”
“It really does. It’s weird. I mean, I’ve been living away from home for the last four years, so I should feel grown up by now. But it’s sort of hitting me now that I have a degree and this sense of what now?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I take another drink of my coffee. “Tell me about school. What’s your favorite memory?” I ask, trying to keep things light. I would know this about her already if I had been there. Unfortunately, I don’t have a clue about the last few years of her life.
“Favorite memory . . .” She trails off, looking up at the ceiling. “I moved off campus my sophomore year with Claire and her boyfriend, Stephen. We had a lot of good times, but the first one that comes to mind is when we had a party for Stephen’s birthday. We had a couple friends pick us up two kegs since we weren’t twenty-one yet. It ended up being way too much beer and we never even tapped the second keg. A couple weeks later, our friend Will comes over and we decide to open this thing. I guess Stephen had never opened a keg before because he turned the tap the wrong way and beer shoots out everywhere. It was like Old Faithful in our living room. Beer was all over the ceiling, the floor, everything.”
“Oh, man,” I say with a slight laugh.
“Stephen is trying to power through it to fix it so it’s spraying all in his face and he can’t even open his eyes. He finally gets it on right and everything is good. Except now the beer is all shook up, so it’s only pouring foam. But Stephen and Will didn’t care and drank it anyway.”
“Did you drink it?”
“Ew, no. I’m not a huge fan of beer anyway, so warm foam is definitely out of the question. Anyway, so they eventually decide to do some keg stands. Will braces his hands on the edges of the keg and kicks his legs up. Stephen catches them and he lifts him up in a handstand. Then he drops him!” she says, wide-eyed. “He bounced off our hard floor and just laid there and we all died.” Mia starts laughing just thinking about it, tears filling her eyes and she gets red in the face. “I don’t know why, but that was the funniest thing to all of us.” She dabs at the corners of her eyes with her napkin.
I laugh with her. “Was Will okay?”
“Oh, yeah, just a damaged ego.”
I smile warmly at her. Her whole face is lit up thinking back on that night and it makes me wish so bad that I was there with her to experience it. I wanted to be a part of all her good memories. “I’m really happy you had fun while you were there.” It was my biggest concern I’d hold her back. I wanted her to have the full college experience, and I was afraid she couldn’t have us both.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy, and it took me a while, but I got there.” She looks at her coffee mug and traces the rim of it with her finger.
“What ever happened with Petey?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“Uh,” she hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with the question.
“I saw you two together, so you can talk about him. It’s not a secret or anything.” I try to put her at ease, hoping I sound relaxed despite my internal need to beat his face in.
She swallows before speaking. “We didn’t work out.” Her eyes remain on her cup, refusing to meet mine. “We dated for a while, but eventually went our separate ways my sophomore year.”
I want to pry and ask why. Ask her if her feelings for me have anything to do with it, but I don’t. “Are you guys still friends? Do you stay in touch?”
She laughs softly, but there’s not humor in it. “No, definitely not. He’s not exactly my biggest fan.” Her gaze comes up and meets mine. She must see the questions all over my face because she continues. “And before you ask, I don’t really want to go into the details, but he said he got tired of always competing for my affection. He couldn’t deal with being my heart’s second choice, so we broke up and never spoke again.” She shrugs like her confession didn’t send my heart soaring.
Her heart’s second choice.
The importance of those words hits me full force, giving me hope.
We talk some more, changing the topic, and before I know it, two hours have gone by. Mia checks the time on her phone. “Wow, I really should be going. I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”
“Yeah, I better go too.” I stand up and help her from her chair before walking her out the door. “I’m parked this way.” I point to the right.
“I’m over here.” She points to the left.
“Alright, well, I had a good time. It was nice seeing you again.” My hands go in my front pockets and I rock back and forth on my heels awkwardly.
“Yeah, you too. We’ll have to do it again sometime soon.”
“I’d really like that,” I say with a smile.
“Okay, well, bye,” she stammers out. At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what to do or say here. She holds her arms open and pauses, asking if a hug is okay. It’s more than okay. It’s wanted—needed.
Mirroring her gesture, I walk toward her and wrap her in a tight hug. My eyes close as I take in her scent. A scent that brings back so many memories. All too soon, she’s pulling away and I’m forced to let go.
“Text me,” she says.
“I will.”
And she walks away.
How can it feel the same but be so different? Certain moments felt like no time had passed at all. It’s as if we were never separated and I had never acted like a dick. But each new story was followed by a space of awkwardness, and you could tell we were trying to fill the void. That used to never happen to us. Maybe in the future it won’t always be this way. Maybe in the future, we’ll be more.
July 14, 2006
After getting dressed, I spray myself with a little cologne and am ready to go. Nerves are running through my body, and I don’t know why. Well, I do, and it has more to do with what I plan on giving Mia tonight than it does actually seeing her. I feel like I got a second chance at life just having her around me. She says she’s forgiven me a long time ago, but I know she hasn’t forgotten. The reservations in her eyes are apparent as is the wall she’s built that keeps me from getting too close. I don’t blame her though. I did this to her, but what we are right now is better than nothing.
At seven thirty sharp, I walk to her front door and knock. A sense of déjà vu washes over me as I remember all the nights I’d walk over and pick Mia up. It’s crazy how the same act can feel so different. When we were younger, I would be excited, anxious to spend time with her. Now, I’m nervous as hell and so unsure of myself and where we stand. We haven’t crossed that line yet and only hang out as friends, but I’m hoping she’ll eventually open her heart to me again. Even though I don’t deserve it.
She answers the door, walks out, and closes it behind her. “Well, don’t you look handsome,” she says to me. I bend slightly and give her a hug.
“I couldn’t look like a total bum standing next to the birthday girl. Everyone would be wondering why a girl like you was having dinner with a loser like me.”
“Oh, stop it. You know you’re hot.” Her eyes widen as what she said registers to us both. The tips of her ears turn red as she stutters for an explanation. She’s clearly uncomfortable with her little slip. We’ve avoided situations like this the whole time we’ve been hanging out. “Uh, I mean, you, uh—”
Leaning close to her ear, I say, “If it makes you feel better, I think you’re hot too.” I give her a wink before grabbing her hand and leading her to my car.
“How’d your interview the other day go?” I ask once we’re seated at our table and have ordered drinks.
Her eyes stay focused on her menu. “It went really well.”
“Is New York your top pick?” I try my damnedest not to sound disappointed when I ask her, but New York isn’t exactly close.
“It would present the most opportunities for me, that’s for sure, but we’ll see what happens.” She gives me a comforting smile, knowing the thoughts running through my head. That’s what happens when you know someone your whole life. It doesn’t matter that we were away from each other for a few years.
“Here are your drinks,” the waiter says, placing a glass of wine in front of Mia and a beer in front of me.
Raising my mug, I say, “To new beginnings.”
With a smile, she mimics me, saying, “To new beginnings.” She then clinks her glass with mine.
After I set my beer back on the table, I stare at it. “I missed your twenty-first birthday,” I say more to myself, but she hears me anyway.
“Huh?”
My focus comes back up to meet hers. “Your twenty-first birthday. I missed it. I was supposed to buy you your first legal drink.”
She shrugs, a sadness crossing her eyes briefly. “It’s been a while. I’m sure we’ve both missed a lot.” I nod, knowing she’s right. “At least you made it to my graduation. I missed yours from the fire academy.” She won’t meet my eyes, but regret mars her perfect face in the tightness around her eyes and mouth.
A sigh escapes my lips. “How about we focus less on the things we missed and be thankful for the things we still get to experience,” I suggest.
She glances back up at me. “Deal,” she agrees. I hold her gaze, still not believing that I’m here with her right now. “You look tired,” she observes.
“There was a pretty bad wreck late last night I had to handle at work. Some guy fell asleep behind the wheel and hit an elderly lady head on.”
Her hand goes to her mouth. “Oh my gosh. Was everyone okay?”
“I’m not sure. They were both breathing when the paramedics showed up, but they were critical.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
I shrug. “Someone has to.”
“So, how do you like your new place?”
“It’s good,” I say with relief in my voice. “Luke really helped me out, but he’s a slob, so it’s nice to have a place of my own.” She starts giggling, and it makes me grin.
We order dinner and talk about silly things, but when dinner is almost over, my nerves set in again. Rubbing my sweaty hands on my pants, I clear my throat. “So, I wanted to give you something for your birthday, and you might think it’s totally stupid.” Shit, this is a bad idea. I should have bought her some chocolate or something instead.
“Why do you look so nervous?” The amusement in her tone is hard to miss.
I kept the stack of papers in the side of my car door and grabbed them before we walked into the restaurant. They’ve been sitting on my lap like a burning reminder, threatening to slice me open and expose me for all to see. Because once I hand these over, that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“I wanted to give you these.” Each paper is folded neatly, stacked, and held together with a rubber band.
“What is this?” she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“My letters. There’s about fifty of them there. I wrote most of them while I was training, some before, but they’re all to you. I never planned to mail them. They were meant to help me make it through, but I never stopped writing you.” She starts to open the first one, but I hold my hand up, stopping her. “You don’t have to read them now. Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t, but I wanted you to have them. If you want to know exactly what I was going through while we weren’t together, it’s all there for you. You can read them when you’re ready.”
She nods, a mix of emotions that are hard for me to read crossing her face, and puts them in her purse.
Looking at the clock next to my bed, I see it’s past one in the morning. Dinner went really well, and I enjoyed my time with her, but all I can think about now are those letters. She could be reading them right now.
Will she hate me?
Will she understand?
I hop out of bed and go to the kitchen to get a drink of water. With the late night I had, I’d think I’d be passed out by now, but my brain won’t shut off long enough for me to go to sleep.
I’m putting the glass in my sink when there’s a light tap on the door. At first, I think I’ve imagined it with sleep deprivation and all, but it happens again. When I peer through the peephole, Mia’s standing outside.
“What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” I ask when I open t
he door, concern clear in my voice.
“Sorry to show up unannounced. Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” I move to the side to let her in, and flip on the living room lamp so we can see. When she faces me, her face is red and splotchy, and her eyes are puffy.
“What happened?” Is it her dad?
“I turned down the job in New York.” Emotion still clogs her throat as she says the words.
Searching her face, I ask, “Why?”
She turns away from me and walks further into my apartment. “I wasn’t honest with you. When I said I had forgiven you, I had lied. I hadn’t. I hated you, Blake. I hated you for making me date you when I knew we should’ve stayed friends. I hated you for making me fall in love with you. I loathed you for breaking my heart.” Her voice cracks on the last word. “But I hated myself for not being able to let go. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move on completely.”
I don’t know what to say. My instincts tell me to hold her, but my brain tells me that’s a bad idea right now. So I stand here shirtless and let her talk.
She spins back around and faces me. “Did you mean everything in those letters?”
“At the time I wrote them, yes.”
She looks at her hands as she fumbles with them. “So, you don’t mean it now?”
“Some of it, no.” Her only response is to nod, but she refuses to look at me. I walk up to her and lift her chin with my finger. “For instance, I don’t hate you. I’ve never let you go. And as hard as I tried, I couldn’t say goodbye. But the part that still holds true is my love for you.”
“I read those and knew I couldn’t leave. I emailed human resources the second I finished your last letter and told her I couldn’t accept the position. I never stopped loving you, Blake. I missed you so much during the time we were apart, and I can’t stomach the idea of leaving when we just found each other again. This might sound completely insane, but I want to see where this goes, and I can’t move to New York and be that far from you again.”
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