The After Girls

by Konen, Leah

  “So do you feel the same?” she asked.

  He nodded. And they both laughed. Their smiles were so big they were grins.

  “So does this mean we can be bandmates?” she asked.

  Carter shook his head. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said. “Plus, you’re too good to play with me anyway. You were always too good to play with any of us.”

  Sydney’s face dropped.

  “We can’t be bandmates,” he said. “But we can be something else.”

  And her smile was back. Matching his.

  “Alright,” she said. “I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Ella was keeping busy. When her mom wasn’t in the studio or teaching a class, they got to do all the things that she’d been putting off — buying a bedroom set, finding the perfect desk lamp — she’d even friended her future roommate on Facebook and made a brand-new pot — one that she hadn’t thrown on the ground in a fit of anger.

  She didn’t see Jake. Not since the day, when he’d shown up shortly after they’d found Grace, ushered them out when the paramedics came, and delivered them to his mother who was waiting with a car to drive them home. Ella had taken a break from the café — it was way too much for her now — and Jake was staying busy there. He called her to give her updates on how Grace was doing. But that was it.

  When she wasn’t hanging out with Sydney (i.e., when Sydney wasn’t with Carter), Ben would come over. They’d drive around. Do summery things. Swim in the river and play Frisbee golf. He was trying to comfort her. He was trying to be there for her. She couldn’t blame him for that. She couldn’t blame him for anything. And yet it wasn’t the same.

  One night they went to Johnny’s, ordered the usual, and sat in the car, looking out at the view. Ella sipped her milkshake and munched on her fries. She looked at Ben. God, he could be gorgeous sometimes. And he was so nice and sweet. And this place was beautiful. This town, this life of hers, it was so good when it wanted to be.

  They ate in silence, because she and Ben didn’t have much to talk about now. She usually just updated him on her latest college purchases, and he on the news and gossip with the football guys. They didn’t have much time left together anyway. In just over a month, she’d be starting down the road, and he was going an hour away on his football scholarship. Sure, they could make it work if they wanted to.

  But she wondered if they did.

  When they were back at her house, Ben put the car in park, turned the engine off.

  She looked at him. “Did you want to come inside?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. His eyes looked sad.

  She looked at him, and she wished that she felt more, that she was more scared at what he might say, what he might feel, but she wasn’t. Whatever was happening between them was small compared to everything that had happened. Whatever he said, it was nothing compared to Astrid leaving, to Grace trying to, to Ella finding them both.

  If she wasn’t broken yet, how could she be now?

  “What is it?” she asked. “Just tell me.” She put her hands on his shoulders, but they didn’t feel like hers anymore. They just felt like shoulders.

  Ben took a deep breath. “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for awhile. But I didn’t want to bother you with it right after, you know …”

  Ella nodded. “It’s okay, Ben. Just ask.”

  He stared at her a minute and then he spit it out. “Did anything ever happen between you and Jake?”

  Ella took her hands from his shoulders, and she looked straight ahead. She thought of the concert, the way he’d made her feel, the night in the cabin, as she pressed him for information about Grace, the way they’d talked to each other as they’d torn Astrid’s room apart, the way whenever he stood close, she was just dying for him to kiss her.

  “No,” she said. “Not like that.”

  Ben nodded. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I don’t.”

  “But?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “We never even kissed,” she said. “We barely even touched. It’s just that, I don’t know. I knew something about it was wrong.”

  Ben sighed then. “Just say it,” he said. “Just get it out there. Say it.”

  Ella shook her head. “What do you want me to say?”

  “That you had feelings for him. That you have feelings for him.”

  Ella breathed deep as she felt the tears start in the corners of her eyes.

  “Oh Ben,” she said, turning to him and cupping his face in her hands, and the numbness, the disinterest, the whatever she’d felt just a minute ago was gone, because, even though she knew he was right, even though he wouldn’t be hers much longer, right now, he still was. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to. You’ve been everything I needed for the last three years. You’ve been more.” She felt tears well in her eyes because even though she’d known it was coming, now that it was here, it felt different. It felt like yet another something was dying.

  Ben nodded, his eyes getting wet now, too. Ella didn’t think she’d ever seen him cry.

  “I’ve loved you so much, Ben,” she said. “So much.”

  “But not anymore,” he said, his voice cracking, and his tears spilling over. She pulled him close to her, buried his face in her shoulder. “You don’t love me anymore.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Ben’s body shook more, and hers did with him. “I wish I could say something else,” she said, the words muffled in his t-shirt. “I’m sorry.”

  They held each other for who knows how long, holding on to the end, because they both knew that it was there. It had to be.

  When they pulled away, his eyes were puffy. Her cheeks were wet.

  “What a pair we are,” he said, laughing if only a little.

  Ella nodded, laughing a bit herself.

  “You should get inside,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  But she had to do it. Just once more. She leaned in, pressed her lips on his, and felt them so familiar, so warm and comforting, hers still, even for just one more minute.

  Ben pulled away.

  “Part of me will always love you,” she said.

  “I know.”

  And there wasn’t anything else to say, so she gave him a half-smile, and she grabbed her purse, opening the door and climbing out of the car.

  “Bye, Ben,” she said. He looked at her, not smiling. But he looked okay, at least. He looked like he’d be okay.

  “Bye,” he said, and he put his Jeep into reverse and pulled away.

  • • •

  It was another week before she could bring herself to go back to the café.

  She hoped Jake would be there. She wanted to see him again. She didn’t know when he’d be leaving — they hadn’t texted in days — and she didn’t want him to go without saying goodbye.

  She slowly opened the door, and she could see that he was there. Becky was, too, and there was a new face that she didn’t recognize — probably her replacement — and the place smelled like it always had, and it was full of customers like it always was at this hour, and it was remarkable how little had changed.

  “Ella,” Jake said, as she walked inside. Without waiting for her to answer, he pulled Becky onto the register and walked around to meet her. “Ella,” he said again, and he wrapped her in a hug. Right there, right in the middle of the café.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  “I just wanted to see you again,” she said.

  He smiled. “I missed you, too. Come on,” he said. “Becky can cover for me. Let’s sit down.”

  She followed him to a table in the corner, and she set her stuff down on a chair.

  “Hold on,” he said, and he popped behind the counter and emerged with two hot cups of coffee.

  They sat down as if they were two normal customers, as if they weren’t completely, tragi
cally, wrapped up in this place. As if they were just two kids getting coffee.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, taking a bitter sip. “Are you?”

  “Uh huh.”

  It was such a strange way to start a conversation. And yet it made perfect sense for them.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Okay,” she said. She took another sip. “Ben and I split up.” And she felt stupid for saying it so quickly. Like she was purposefully letting him know or something. He’d probably expected the standard, Fine. How are you?

  But his eyes only looked caring. Understanding.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “It must be so hard with everything else.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, trying to recover. “I mean, it was a long time coming. It needed to happen.”

  “Well, I’m still sorry,” he said. “If there’s anything I can do …”

  There is nothing you can do, she thought. At least nothing you should do.

  “I’m really fine,” she said. “But thanks.”

  “Cool,” Jake said, taking the cup in his hand and taking a sip. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he said, and for a second, her pulse quickened, like he might tell her he felt the same way, like he might confess his love to her right here in the middle of the café.

  “We’re selling the house,” he said, and her heart sank in more ways than one. The house she’d spent so much time in. The house with Astrid’s room. The shortcut to the cabin. All gone.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he replied. “I know. But there’s nothing else to do. The doctors say it would be too much for Grace to come back here. And this will give her some more money for the treatment facility — it’s nice,” he said. “Plus, she’s not going to be working again any time soon.”

  “Will she be okay?” Ella asked. “To stay there? Will there be enough money?”

  Jake nodded. “Believe it or not, Robert’s going to help her.”

  “Robert?”

  “Astrid’s dad.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know,” he said. “It weirded me out when my mom told me. But he’s apparently some bigshot in Manhattan or something. I guess he can afford to help.”

  Ella just nodded.

  “I still hate him,” Jake said. “But she needs the help. My parents are teachers in West Virginia. They’re not exactly loaded.”

  Ella nodded again, processing. “And what’s happening to this place?”

  “My mom’s going to stay awhile until it sells. She’s hiring a new store manager and stuff. It will still be around, probably. Unless the new guys turn it into something lame, like a Starbucks.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m amazed Grace actually kept it going these last few years.”

  “She had a lot of help,” he said. “Astrid was there a lot. My dad did all the accounting. My mom came down when she really needed a hand.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah, they both helped her keep it afloat many times.”

  “Wow,” she said. “I had no idea.”

  “She’s going to get better, Ella,” Jake said, putting his hand on top of hers. “She’s finally getting the help that she needs.”

  “I hope so.”

  “She is,” Jake said, removing his hand.

  “I’ve actually been meaning to call you,” he said. “We’re going to sell all the furniture and stuff, but we’re putting all the clothes and pictures and memory things in boxes for Grace. My mom thought that you and Sydney might want to come and take a few things. For you guys to have.”

  “Oh,” Ella said. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Anytime you want,” he said. “Just swing by when you can.”

  “Thanks, Jake,” she said.

  “Thank you for doing so much for us,” he said. “Thank you for saving Grace.”

  “Oh, it’s not. I mean, it was — ”

  “Ella,” he said. “Thank you.”

  She took another sip of coffee, letting it heat her up from the inside. “You’re welcome,” she said, and a part of her felt lighter than it had all summer. The important part.

  • • •

  Sydney was down with the idea. It was probably the first thing they’d straight-up agreed on all summer, besides which movies to veg out to. She picked Ella up a couple of days later, and they drove over.

  When they parked, Sydney turned to her. “You definitely feel up to this, right?”

  Ella nodded.

  “I mean, if you don’t, we can come back later. Or I could just go in. Or — ”

  “Sydney,” Ella said, looking right at her friend. “It’s okay. Trust me. I’m okay.”

  “Really?” Sydney asked. Her eyes lit up. “Like, really really?”

  “Really really.”

  Syd pulled down the car mirror and messed around with her bangs. “What color do you think I should do next?” she asked.

  “Au naturel.”

  Sydney kept her eyes locked on the mirror. “Yeah, I was thinking about that myself.”

  “Really?”

  Sydney laughed, flipping the mirror back up. “I know, shocking, right? Even I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  Ella laughed, too.

  “Ella,” Sydney said, turning to her. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Ella said.

  “No, really, Ella. I’m sorry I thought you were crazy. I mean, I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  Ella shrugged. “I probably sounded crazy.”

  Sydney laughed. “Yeah, you did,” she said. “But I’m sure I didn’t help.”

  “Thanks, Sydney.”

  Sydney gave her a hug, and she wondered when was the last time they’d done this. A normal, friendly hug. Not a shaking sobbing hug. Just a hug. It felt nice.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  The door was wide open, so they walked inside.

  The house was packed with boxes. Stickers and lists of where things were to go. What was going to storage and what was being sold. You had to hand it to Claire for her resourcefulness.

  “Hey girls,” Jake said. He gave each of them a hug, but he held Ella the longest. He was so warm and sweet and cheerful that she wished they could just stand like this forever, holding each other.

  But they couldn’t.

  When Ella pulled back she felt tears in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

  Jake pointed towards Astrid’s room — the door was wide open — it looked strange. “I’ll just be down the hall in the living room,” he said.

  Ella nodded. “Thanks, Jake.”

  “Sure.”

  Ella led the way to Astrid’s room. The windows were open, and the sun was shining in. The curtains had been taken down, and Astrid’s bed linens were in a box. It was the first time that Ella had been in the room and it hadn’t looked like Astrid was about to walk right in. It was weird — but something about it was nice, too — a relief.

  “Thanks, Jake,” Sydney said in the most high-pitched and girlie voice possible.

  “What?” Ella asked, turning around.

  “Oh, nothing,” Sydney said, walking over to a box half-filled with clothes. “You guys just so totally have the hots for each other.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ella said, walking over to the mirror still covered in photos. She could see that her face was red.

  “Sure you don’t,” Sydney said, sitting down on the naked bed.

  “And shh,” Ella said, turning around. “He’s going to hear you.”

  “Aha,” Sydney said. “So I’m right.”

  Ella crossed her arms. “You know, just because you and Carter finally got together doesn’t mean that the whole world is as googly-eyed as you are.”

  Sydney blushed at that, but was immediately back to her argument. “You are such a bad lia
r.”

  “Besides,” Ella said. “I just split with Ben. We were together for three years.”

  Sydney narrowed her eyes. “I know. And I’m sorry. I am. But you and Ben had been done awhile. As much as I love him, even I can see that now. And I can also see that you care about Jake.”

  Ella sighed. Obviously Ben had, too. It made her feel good and bad all at the same time. “And what if I do?”

  Sydney surprised her then. She stood up and gave her a hug. When she pulled back, she looked right at her. “I’m just saying that you deserve to be happy. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve it. You, especially.”

  Ella looked down, and Sydney stepped back. There was nothing but the sound of the wind between them for a moment, and memories of Astrid, still so present in all of the things around them.

  “Alright,” Sydney said, breaking the silence and flopping back down on the bed. “Where should we start?”

  “You hit the closet? I’ll start over here?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Ella turned back to the mirror. Photos were still taped around the edges, and in a second she knew the one that she wanted the most. It was of the three of them, taken after a day of splash and sun at the rock quarry. Their hair was wet, plastered around their faces — which were red — but Astrid’s was bright, different — good, really good. Maybe everything hadn’t been a lie. Maybe the good times they’d had together really had been good. Maybe she and Sydney had been an escape for her. A tiny point of light in her murky world.

  Astrid looked happy. She really did.

  And Ella knew that Sydney was right.

  She deserved it, too.

  • • •

  When Ella got home, she took all her stuff upstairs. She’d taken some old clothes, a hat. She and Sydney had split up Astrid’s yearbooks, but what she’d loved the most was the photos. Visual proof that their friendship had been real. A reminder anytime she was tempted to forget.

  Ella knelt down and pulled a shoebox out from under her bed. It was big — it had held a pair of high boots that she’d never quite been able to pull off. She put the yearbooks inside. And the photos. And one of Astrid’s favorite dresses. But there was still space left.

  She went to her purse and pulled out what she’d been carrying with her all week. The journal. The beat-up, leather-bound journal. The story of Astrid’s life.