I give him a sad smile this time, because his comment was out of line and I can’t tell him it didn’t hurt. It killed me.
He lets out a gutted sound as he kicks the trash can next to him in an attempt to lessen his frustration.
I don’t say a word. Neither does he. We just stand there, taking in the mess that our relationship has become.
“I wish I could get past this. I wish it didn’t matter to me.” His voice lacks its usual vivacity, and instead it sounds about as defeated as I feel.
“I don’t know if that would be any better,” I say weakly. “I think the fact that neither of us can get over it proves how much we meant to one another.”
“Jesus, Els,” he says, letting go of my arm and digging his hands through his hair, as he always does when frustrated. “I hate that this is what we’ve become. I just don’t know what to do anymore. It hurts. Everything always fucking hurts.”
He sounds so wounded, so broken, and I feel helpless, knowing there’s nothing I can do at this point to help him, to help either of us. I swear that in this moment, a part of me shatters on the inside. A part of me I didn’t even know I had until I met Jess Parker.
Jess clearly can’t forgive me, and I don’t know if I can forgive him either. We’ve both hurt each other, and now, after all the yelling and screaming, it all comes down to the simple truth. There is no more us. There is no more Jess and Eleanor.
The reality of the situation pierces me like a dagger, and I can’t fight back the tears that begin to fall. They fall for the friendship Jess and I had, the relationship that we shared, and finally, the love we had—or, in my case, still have.
“Please don’t cry, Els. I hate seeing you cry,” Jess says as he takes a step toward me and engulfs me in a hug. His touch only makes my heart hurt more, and the tears start coming at twice their previous speed.
“Shhh,” Jess whispers into my hair as he holds me close. “Shhh, baby, please don’t cry.” Despite his best efforts, his words only cause my sobs to intensify until I’m gasping for air against his tearstained shirt.
We stay in the embrace for a few more minutes, even after I’ve stopped crying. Jess and I just hold each other, both grieving for the relationship we had and what could have been.
Finally, after the hug begins to cause more pain than comfort, I pull away, wiping my eyes one last time. Looking up at Jess, I can see his eyes are glassy. I wonder if he too has been crying.
“I guess this is it then,” I say sadly. There isn’t any malice or anger in my voice, just acceptance, because at this point, I think we both finally understand it’s over. And god, I had no idea the simple act of living could hurt this much.
“I guess so,” he says, breaking our gaze and looking to the cracked sidewalk as if it holds the key to life.
Taking a deep breath, I give myself one last look at the boy who stole my heart, before uttering the words that will cause it to break yet again.
“Goodbye, Jess.”
He flinches as he looks up at me, sorrow filling his beautiful hazel eyes, before he mutters the words I dread hearing.
“Goodbye, Eleanor.”
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I just walk toward my apartment, and even though it takes everything in my willpower, I don’t look back.
All These Things That I’ve Done
There are a lot of things I wish I could have done differently in my life. I wish I didn’t bleach my auburn hair for years. I wish I spent more time with my mom. I wish I didn’t cut Winona out of my life, and finally, I wish my dad and I didn’t give up on one another.
Life is constantly filled with regrets. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. But what’s the point in having regrets? It only makes past memories all the more painful. I lived the past five years of my life in a tornado of regret, but this year I escaped that tornado.
If there’s one thing I know about the old Eleanor Ivy, it’s that she would regret her relationship with Jess. She would regret the vulnerability, the happiness, the memories, all because the end result was so much more painful because of it.
But the new Eleanor Ivy, the current and real Eleanor Ivy, she doesn’t regret him. Because regret implies I’m sad that I was with him, when in reality, it was the best thing that could have happened to me. Do I wish things happened differently? Of course, but until the day I die, I won’t regret a second I spent with him. Because Jess Parker showed me what it was like to live. Being with Jess was like having air breathed into oxygen-deprived lungs.
And even though right now all my anger is gone and I’m left a heartbroken, tearful mess, I know in the long run it was all worth it, and I would do it again.
Today was the last day of finals, and the enormous amount of work I’ve had over the past few days has nearly been enough to take my mind off of Jess. “Nearly” being the key word.
I’ve seen Jess a few times around campus since our moment outside of Viper. Although it isn’t exactly comfortable, it’s a whole lot better than it was when all we had was animosity toward one another. Now we just smile through the pain, hoping, praying that eventually it will lessen.
“You ready?” Viv calls from the living room. We’re supposed to go out and meet the gang at Dina’s to celebrate all of us finishing today before everyone goes their separate ways for winter break. Despite everything Jess and I have been through in the past few weeks, I think going tonight will be a good step in the right direction for us. Not in regards to having a relationship, but to eventually open up the possibility of a friendship.
Right now friendship isn’t really on my radar, just because it’s too soon, but I think tonight needs to happen in order to let our wounds begin to heal.
“I’m coming, Viv,” I call as I wrap my scarf around my neck and grab my purse. I’ve gone for my usual simple look tonight—black knee-high boots, jeans, and a blouse—and this time I’m not forgetting my coat.
“We’ll have six chocolate shakes, six orders of chocolate-chip pancakes, three orders of French toast, two grilled cheeses, one coke, three sides of bacon, hash browns, and an order of toast,” Will says to Dorothy as she hastily tries to keep up with the gigantic amount of food he’s just ordered. Eventually she gets it all down and tells us she’ll be right back with our drinks.
Wren, Claudia, Will, Viv, Wolf, Jess, and I all sit around a table in the back of Dina’s, and it almost feels like the old times. The only person missing is Nick, the one person who’s almost always missing because he’s either working or doing god knows what.
“All I’m saying is I swear Lexi Wright is sleeping with Professor Eastern,” Will says as he lies back in his chair, one arm wrapped around Viv.
“No way, dude,” Wolf cuts in. “No one would sleep with that oldie, especially someone as hot as Lexi. He’s old enough to be her grandfather.”
I can’t help but laugh at their conversation because what the boys don’t know is that Lexi is gay, so no, she is definitely not sleeping with Eastern.
I know Jess also knows this, as Lexi is in our class, so I glance over at him and notice he too is hiding a smile. When our eyes meet, he gives me a small smile before turning back to the stack of chocolate-chip pancakes Dorothy has just placed in front of him. Although I’m happy we can be civil toward one another, I can’t ignore the pang in my chest at the wall that now divides us.
Two hours later, we’re stuffed to the brim and the only thing I feel like doing is getting some fresh air, then hopping right into bed.
“Movies, anyone?” Will asks as we all exit Dina’s. The snow’s started to fall heavily the past few days, so it’s looking as though we’ll be having a white Christmas.
“I’m gonna call it a night,” I say, my breath visible in the cold chill of the night.
“Same here,” Jess says from next to Wren and Claudia.
“I’ll see you at home,” I say to Viv as I pull her into a hug, her blonde curls engulfing the left side of my face.
“I’ll walk you to your car,
” Jess says to me, seemingly surprising not only me, but also himself.
“Thanks,” I say with an awkward smile as I pull away from Viv. She gives me an “are you good?” look, so I squeeze her arm reassuringly, letting her know I am indeed good.
Jess and I say our goodbyes to everyone. I know I won’t be seeing most of them until the New Year. God, how time flies.
The walk to my car with Jess is filled with an uncomfortable silence that makes me internally cringe at what the two of us have become.
I stop a few feet from my car to admire the Christmas tree lighting up the center of a family’s living room, the window giving any passersby the perfect view. It must be about eight feet tall and is decorated with all sorts of ornaments, each of which probably has an individual story behind it. It reminds me of the trees we used to have when I was a little girl. My mom always hated when Christmas trees were decorated generically, with all the same type of ornaments. She felt a tree needed character, and therefore all our ornaments were different, each with its own story.
I can’t help but wonder what happened to all of those ornaments after I left. I’m almost positive my dad would have stopped decorating. Hell, he probably stopped celebrating.
“I’ve always loved Christmas,” I say, looking up at the falling snow and bright lights. “It was always the one time of year where you could forget all the bad things that had happened and just be happy. Then, after my mom died, it became the painful reminder of all the bad that happened. It’s funny how something that once brought happiness can bring only sadness in the blink of an eye.”
Jess doesn’t say anything, because I think we both know I’m not just talking about Christmas anymore.
“I better get home. It’s getting late,” I say, turning to Jess. “Merry Christmas, Jess.”
“Merry Christmas, Els,” he says quietly as I leave him behind, still staring at the house and all the dreams that come with it.
“Give me something strong enough to take away a month’s worth of memories,” I say dryly as I sit on the barstool at Viper.
Drinking at four p.m. the week of Christmas. This is what I’ve become. The club isn’t even open yet. The only way I managed to get in here was because Nick opened early to prep for tonight.
“Scotch on the rocks it is.” Nick preps my drink, not saying anything else. That’s Nick for you. Dark and mysterious.
“Huh?” Nick says to me as he hands me my drink.
Oh Jesus, did I say that dark-and-mysterious comment aloud? Great.
“Nothing,” I mumble. I take the drink from him. The golden liquid sloshes in my glass as I spin it around before taking a gulp.
Shit. That burns.
“That’s strong,” I say, attempting to keep my eyes from watering. I place the half-empty glass back on the black marble counter, deciding I probably need a few moments before my next sip.
“You said strong,” he says, not a laugh in sight.
“That I did.”
Nick goes back to prepping the bar for tonight, and a peaceful quiet comes over the two of us. Although I know almost nothing about Nick, I’ve heard from Jess that he keeps to himself most of the time. So chances are I’m probably not gonna learn a whole lot from him now. After what I assume is at least ten minutes of silence, Nick finally decides to speak.
“Don’t doubt his love for you, Eleanor. Jess needs time. I’m not saying it’s gonna work out, because it might not, but it also might. Love’s tough, but it’s the best kind of love that’s the hardest. That’s what you want to fight for.” His voice is gruff, but I hear the truth behind every one of his words.
I have no words. Literally, I don’t know what to say. Who knew Nick could be so deep?
“Wow, Nick,” I say with a sad laugh. “I never pegged you as a poet.”
He gives me a sad smile—well, what Nick would consider a smile, anyway—then turns his focus back onto the glasses he’s polishing. He works on each glass as if it’s a crown jewel, giving it all of his attention.
“So what was her name?” I ask as I finish off the last of my scotch on the rocks. Definitely not my drink.
“Whose name?” he asks, feigning ignorance and not bothering to look up at me.
“The girl who broke your heart.”
If I weren’t as focused on him as he is on those glasses, I probably would have missed the slight tick in his jaw. I guess I’ve hit a sore spot.
“Name isn’t important. It’s in the past,” he says, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.
“She must have pulled a real number on you.”
He finally looks up at me, and for the first time since meeting him, I see a sadness behind his eyes, one I can tell he tries to conceal.
“You have no idea,” he says as he rubs his shoulder.
What the hell did that girl do to him?
“Anyway, I’ve got some stuff I gotta do in the back. Drink’s on the house,” he says as he walks away.
I can’t help feeling sorry for Nick as I leave the bar. Clearly, the guy has demons of his own. He kind of reminds me of myself six months ago, but a lot wiser. His advice sings in my ears and makes me realize that I need to indeed pull myself together.
“I have three things I need to do today, and the first one begins in one hour,” I say as I exit my bedroom, already dressed for the day. It’s New Year’s Day, and I’m trying out this thing where I don’t sulk in bed all day over my ruined relationship.
So far it’s working, but keep in mind that it’s only been twenty minutes.
Viv, who is still in her baby-blue silk pajamas, peers up at me from the couch with a quizzical expression. Her hangover from last night’s festivities is very apparent, so I make a mental note to tone down the enthusiasm.
“Someone is in a very good mood today,” she remarks as she forces herself to get up from the couch.
“I figured it’s a new year, so I should really adopt a new me. You know, New Year’s resolutions and all that shit.”
“Uh-huh,” Viv says as she walks toward the kitchen to get what I’m assuming is coffee and aspirin.
Her night last night was grand to say the least. We both went to Viper to ring in the new year, but I cut out early, not wanting to participate in the dreaded New Year’s kiss. Not that I had anyone to participate with anyway.
Jess didn’t end up showing up, so it was just Will, Viv, Wren, Claudia, and me. I didn’t have the heart to ask where he was and if he was with his mom or the more unlikely other option—his dad.
I haven’t seen him in over two weeks, and I’m not going to lie; it’s been really hard at times. Everything reminds me of him, of us, and there’s so much I want to share with him, but I know that calling him would only set us back a million feet, especially since we’ve only taken a few steps forward since the breakup.
I still can’t believe it’s been a month since it all happened. A month of absolute and utter pain, but I’ve managed to hold myself together for the most part. The last thing I need is Viv thinking I’ve gone psychotic, hence the copious amount of tears that I’ve shed in private. It’s as if my body is trying to make up for the five years I deprived it of crying.
Now today, January 1, 2015, I’ve made the resolution to work on myself. I’ve spent the past few months finally letting myself open up to people, taken steps out of the shadows to finally understand who Eleanor Ivy really is.
It’s kind of pathetic, but I sort of realized I don’t have a lot of hobbies, and I honestly have no idea if I’m even interested in my business major. I think I just chose it because most people I know are business majors, which is a bit of a problem.
So that’s one of the three things I need to do in the new year: find out who I am. Number one and two on the list are both things that can’t wait for the new year. They’re happening today.
“So, where are we going?” Viv’s managed to pull on pale-blue jeans and a cream sweater, and even though she just threw it on, she looks a hell of a lot better than
I would if I had gotten ready in three minutes.
“It’s a surprise,” I say mischievously. “Now let’s get going; I don’t want to miss my appointment.”
“A tattoo!” Viv yells as we walk into Johnny’s Ink. “Really, Ellie? Are you sure you want something so permanent?” Her voice is filled with concern, but I’m certain about this.
“Don’t worry, Viv. I’m sure,” I say calmly, when in actual fact I’m pretty fucking scared. Needles scare the hell out of me, but I can’t tell her that. It will only freak us out.
“Okay then,” she says, clearly not convinced. “Will you at least tell me what you’re getting?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, Viv. You’re just going to have to wait and see. Now take a seat; I’ll be out in a little bit.”
I give her a reassuring smile before following the tattoo artist into the back room. As soon as he starts up the needle, my heart begins to race, but instead of fearing it as I thought I would, I take comfort in the dull thrum the needle makes as it presses against my skin. He inks my rib cage with words that from here on out, I will forever try my best to live by.
The pain dulls after a while, and as the artist comes to a stop, I feel my heart rate quicken with the desire to see the finished product.
“You ready to see it?” he asks as he reaches for a mirror.
I nod anxiously. He passes me the mirror, and I hold it up to my newly inked skin.
You cannot find peace by avoiding life.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper as I stare in awe at the new piece of me. A piece that I vow to live by because as of now, I’m no longer running.
“I’ve got to say, Ellie, I kind of love it,” Viv says as she admires the Virginia Woolf quote that now proudly dances across my rib cage.
“Thanks, Viv. Now, there’s one more favor I need from you today.” This second part has me riddled with anxious nerves, but I know I have to do it. It’s something I should have done years ago, but it took everything that’s happened this last year for me to realize it.
Brief Encounters_The Encounters Series Page 27
