Anyone but Him

by Cassie Graham

  I’d say today was a good day.

  “Jennings, I’m tired. I should probably get to bed,” Whitley says into the phone as she yawns.

  After class today, Oliver and Whitley exchanged numbers and parted ways, planning on meeting Sunday to do our assignment.

  Yes, if you’re wondering I have two phones. A Jennings phone and an Oliver phone. There are so many things wrong with this situation, but I can’t back out now. I’m in too far.

  “I’m keeping you up too much,” I profess. “I shouldn’t call so late.”

  “You hush. I look forward to our nightly ritual. You will not change a thing or I will kick you. Got it, Cohen?”

  Lying on my bed, I move my hand behind my head and chuckle. “Aye, aye Captain. I will not change our ritual. I feel bad, though. I don’t want you to be tired.”

  “I’m fine. I should be worrying about you. It sounds like you’re getting your ass kicked with all of the training.”

  I wince as she talks about my ongoing lie. I don’t like to talk about it much. Every time she brings it up, I find a way to change the subject. I should at least start kickboxing or something insanely physical so I at least look fit for when I come “home.”

  “I actually like it. I can handle some kick-in-the-ass training.”

  “I know you can. It’s just been almost a month, and I sort of feel like you aren’t real,” she stops. “We talk everyday and I sometimes think I’ve made you up and really I’ve lost my marbles and I’m sitting in my room talking to myself.”

  I snigger and try not to bang my head against a wall. God, what am I doing to her? “I’m very much real, Whit. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

  “And, what does that mean?”

  She sulks. “We’ve been talking on the phone every day and I don’t know…I worry maybe things will be weird when you get back. What if I’m not as interesting as you think I am? Really, Jenns, I’m boring.”

  “Alright, that’s it,” I fight with myself. “What are you doing next weekend?”

  Shit, what am I doing?

  “Umm, nothing, I don’t think. Wait, why?”

  “I’m coming home to visit.”

  “What?” she screeches. “Jennings, no. Don’t come home because of me. Dammit, I need more sleep. Just forget what I said. I’m fine. Things are cool. I need sleep. Shit, I already said that.”

  “Yes, you did,” I say, laughter wanting to bubble from my throat. “And I’m coming home. You’ll see things are only going to get better. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Catching up? Jennings, I don’t think I talk to anyone as much as I talk to you. And I live with Holli.”

  “Holli does talk a lot,” I concede. “But, I mean we need to make up for all the time hanging out that we’ve lost because you’re there and I’m here.” No specifics again.

  She grumps. “I guess, but I don’t like it. I can’t interrupt your life because I’m being whiney.”

  “You’re not interrupting anything, Whit. We have a free weekend, anyway.” Damn, the lies are just falling out of my mouth, digging me deeper and deeper into a hole I don’t know if I can get myself out of.

  “Fine. Okay. I guess—I guess I could be excited,” she says in a dull tone, but I can hear the playfulness of her tone.

  “Oh, I’m glad,” I jest. “Now, go to sleep. Same time, tomorrow?”

  “Same time. I’ll talk to you then.”

  “Good night, Whitley.”

  “Night, Jennings.”

  She ends the call before I do, and I sit and stare at the blank screen.

  What did I just do?

  “Mother heffer, Oliver. If I die before I graduate, I’m so going to haunt your ass.”

  Speeding around a slow car on the freeway, I use my blinker to move into the fast lane.

  “Did you just say mother heffer? Like, the cow?” I ignore her insult.

  “Ugh.” She closes her eyes and searches for the “oh, shit” handle above the door.

  I swerve past a semi.

  “Oliver, seriously. I’m going to throw up in your car if you don’t slow the fuck down.”

  Taking my foot off of the accelerator, I let the car slow down a bit. It may be a lower end sports car, but the thing can fly when I open her up.

  “Thank you,” Whit mumbles, pulling at her seatbelt until it locks. “So, where exactly are we going?”

  I picked her up from her house and it’s almost an hour drive, so it’s no surprise she’s curious. When I texted her yesterday, I didn’t give any details. Just asked her for her address to keep up appearances and told her I’d drive.

  “Griffith Observatory.”

  “Oh, really?” she asks. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “Yeah, I guess they have a really great look-outs. I figure we can park and map out what we see.”

  “Cool,” she breathes as I exit the freeway.

  I’ve been to the observatory a few times for release parties and concerts, but being here, late at night with it completely empty is a whole new experience. It’s creepy and fascinating. The lights that usually illuminate the building are dim and there’s no one around. I park at the top of the hill and walk to the trunk, taking out the blanket, notepad and pen I brought.

  “I’ve always looked to this observatory, and thought it was this untouchable, imaginary place,” Whitley admits, closing the door to the car. “It’s crazy that I’m finally here.”

  “You need to get out more, Whit,” I tease. “How long have you lived here?”

  She gives me a hard look and shrugs her shoulder. “Six years now, I guess. And, shut up. I’ve been busy with school,” she says, adjusting her bag on her arm.

  “Uh-huh, sure.” I hop onto the hood.

  With her hands on her hips, she watches me with an unsure look in her eyes.

  “You comin’ or what?” I ask when I offer her my hand.

  She huffs and takes it, letting me pull her onto the hood next to me.

  “Okay.” I open my notebook and take the cap off of my pen. “Where should we start?”

  “Well, the first thing we need to do is figure out where the North Star is.”

  I point straight ahead. “It’s right there.”

  Dumbfounded, her mouth hangs open.

  I put my hand down. “What?”

  “That was freakishly fast, Oliver. How did you know that?”

  Shit, Jennings is slipping out. Time for recon. “I looked it up before we got here.”

  Nice save, asshole.

  “Oh.” She accepts my answer. “Alright, then. Do we know what constellation we want to map out?”

  I flip open the astronomy book that Whit took out of her bag and turn it open to the month of June. Certain constellations can be seen easier during every month, so I point to one. “How about Libra?” I suggest.

  “Meh, everyone is going to do that one. Let’s go for Ursa Minor.”

  “Ursa Minor?” I question. “You can see that all year.”

  “Exactly. No one will want to map it for that reason.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Touching the pen to the paper, I begin with the North Star or Polaris, depending on how the Earth is tilted, and draw three more points downward in a curved line. Forming a box, with four points, I connect the dots, making it look sort of like a shovel or ladle.

  “You didn’t even look up at the sky to draw that,” Whitley comments.

  “It’s the Little Dipper, Whit. Everyone knows what it looks like.”

  I finish the names of the five stars in the constellation and put the cap back on my pen.

  “Yeah.” She points to the writing, looking fascinated. “But, they don’t know the names.” She moves her finger to the top star. “Polaris or the North Star.” Then drags it down. “Yildun.” Further, all the way down to the end of the group, “Kocab.” Now, over to the left to the tiniest star. “Pherkad Minor.” There’s another right nex
t to it, the previous one’s original. “Pherkad.” She finishes tracing it, and her body presses against mine.

  My breath comes in shallow gasps, and I honestly don’t know what to do. Three days ago Whitley couldn’t stand me, pissed, and now, her eyes are starting to flutter closed and she’s inching toward me.

  I clear my throat and it snaps her out of her haze.

  She grabs her mouth and shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I close the notepad and lay my body down on the windshield of the car. “I just think you’ll regret it tomorrow. But, any day a gorgeous girl wants to kiss me is a good day.”

  Even in the dark night, with only the stars to illuminate, Whitley’s smile is radiant. Brighter than any star in the sky.

  Then, she huffs, annoyed. At the situation, or me, I’m not sure. “I can’t get my head on straight. There are days when I go through life and I’m just so—confused, you know?” She shakes her head and lies down next to me, bringing her knees up. “I feel like I’m being pulled in different directions. My head doesn’t know which direction to go, and I’m navigating this life without a compass.”

  She’s rambling, but she’s basically just hit my life on the head.

  Then there’s another ping of something and it makes me worry. Jennings hasn’t gotten this reaction out of her. We’ve talked countless hours on the phone, and the deepest we’ve gotten so far is how her parents’ divorce has affected her. Maybe it’s the fact I’m here with her, and maybe she knows deep down that I’m both men, so she thinks she can open up to me. Hopefully, it’s easier to open up to an actual person and not a phone.

  She really shouldn’t fall for Oliver. He’s not the greatest guy.

  The fact of the matter is, she’s the only one who is in both of my lives and doesn’t know. It’s a big reason why I haven’t called her on the phone as Oliver. I know the minute I say something to her over that receiver, she’s going to figure me out. And when she does, there’s going to be hell to pay.

  “I get it,” I say. “There are days when I don’t really know who I am.”

  And if that isn’t the truth, I don’t know what is.

  I go on. “I start to question who I want to be and where I want to go, but I force myself to look at what really matters.”

  Her head is turned toward me and I stop myself from inching closer to her.

  “What matters in this life, Oliver? Because at the moment, I’m not so sure.”

  “Happiness, adventure, family and friends. They matter.” I suck in a breath. “Those things matter.”

  She massages the bridge of her nose, visibly conflicted.

  What’s bringing this out in her?

  “I don’t really have any of those things anymore, Oliver. Which makes me wonder what I’m really doing. I don’t know how to navigate this place—this life. I’m confused. One minute I pull myself one direction, and the next, I’m running in the opposite way. It’s all my doing and I don’t know how to stop it.”

  “I don’t think there’s really one way to stop, Whit. There will have to come a day when you’re just happy with the life you’re leading. You’ll accept the shitty and embrace the good.”

  She groans. “The only good thing I’ve got going is Holli—and—and someone else,” she hesitates and I have a feeling she’s talking about Jennings. “They keep me going and grounded at the same time. Both of their lives are complicated, though. One day, they’ll both be gone and my anchors will drift along the ocean with them. I’ll be even more alone than I already am.”

  “Whit, no one person can keep you anchored.” I shake my head.

  This girl, this silly and spunky girl doesn’t know who she is. She’s sitting front of me, both of me, and I can see her clear as day. She’s someone special and she can’t see it for herself.

  “My life is a sea of black and white, Oliver. I either do, or don’t. I like, or don’t like. I stay or move on. It’s one or the other, and no matter how hard I try to ignore my itinerant wants, I can’t stop moving on to the next thing.”

  “Life isn’t about the black and white. It’s about finding that little sliver of gray and holding on to it. Your silver lining. You can’t find a purpose to stay stagnant because you haven’t found the right reason. It’s all about outlook, Whit.”

  Damn, who the hell am I? I’ve never thought this deep.

  “I guess you’re right. I just feel absent in my own life. And on top of that, I hardly know you and I’ve unloaded all of this on your shoulders. I’m sorry.”

  I laugh. “Quit saying sorry.” She’s not the sorry type. “And I must have that kind of face.” I shrug a shoulder in nonchalance. “Women can’t help but open up to me.”

  She pokes my side. “Shut up.”

  “Want to get going?” I ask. It’s starting to get late and we both have class in the morning.

  She takes a deep breath and stares at the sky, not answering. Her eyes move back and forth, looking toward the abundant amount of stars and galaxies, almost like she’s trying to find her answers in them.

  They might be there, but she’s going to have to look really hard.

  Minutes pass without either of us speaking. She doesn’t answer my question, and I don’t probe any further. I simply let her be.

  Laying side by side, I place my arms behind my head because if I don’t have them under lockdown, they’ll pull her to me and I don’t think that’s the best idea.

  Finally, the sky breaks its trance and Whitley looks over at me. “Can we just stay out here…for a little while longer?”

  “Of course, Whit,” I struggle to keep my eyes trained on the sky because I so desperately want to look at her. “Whatever you want.”

  IN THE SPAN OF A WEEK, my school life has changed dramatically. Who would have thought that an ignorant asshole like Oliver, could be a pretty decent human being? Don’t get me wrong, he’s moodier than I am, and has no problem grinding my gears, but our newfound friendship has become something I look forward to. I like the difference of our relationship. Not that I have any real frame of reference. Despite the fact that Blaine practically lives in our house and I’ve had a few random guy-friends, I don’t really know how to be friends with them. Men are creatures all their own. Some say women are hard to decipher and I don’t doubt that for one second because I can be a crazy bitch, but men—they are blindfolded to emotion. They have some force field that prevents them from seeing or feeling anything.

  Jennings really does try to open up to me, and for that, I’m thankful. Getting to see into his life, even just a little bit is a gift. I can’t imagine letting anyone in with the life he leads. But, Oliver? For being this Big-Man-On-Campus, he’s sort of closed off. It could be a coping mechanism for all I know. He’s new and most of us here are established. There aren’t many newbies in our class or in Lark’s frat house, so it’s not the craziest thing to want to keep his emotions close to the chest. I just wish, maybe he’d open up to someone. There are a few seconds when he looks like a ticking time bomb. Something will set him off. I’ll see his nostrils flare and his eyes will go wide and just when I think he’s going to blow up, he takes a deep breath and maneuvers through the incident. I’m not quite sure how he does it, but I could take a page out of his book. It’s little things. Someone calling a girl a nasty name, or someone bumps into me, he’ll look close to losing his shit, but he reigns it in and becomes stoic. It’s irritating and fascinating.

  The group of girls that somehow initiated me into their group grows more and more antsy for information as the days go on, but I keep my lips sealed. Oliver is an anomaly in our school. He’s unlike most of the guys that go here. He’s funny and outgoing. He isn’t afraid to talk to anyone. And I mean that. He talks to everyone. There’s no prejudice in his eyes. Unfortunately, Camford falls victim to cliques, but that doesn’t matter to Oliver. He runs in every circle imaginable. And, he’s apparently responsible for the new partygoers at Lark’s frat house. Not that I would k
now.

  Lark has tried his hardest to get me to talk and see me over the past month, but I’ve refused. His texts consist of words like, “Whitty, I miss you. What did I do wrong?” or “Whitty, I know I messed up, but I can’t figure out what I did.”

  The guy is clueless.

  Do I want to be with him?

  God, no.

  But, am I starting to feel bad for shutting him out?

  Maybe, a little.

  I’m not a heartless bitch. At least, I’m not feeling like one today.

  So, his fourth text of the morning breaks me down and I text him back.

  Me: I’ll meet for coffee after class.

  Seconds later, he responds.

  Lark: Thank God. I miss you so much.

  Don’t get it confused, buddy.

  Me: I’ll see you at noon.

  “Holli!” I yell down the hall, closing my phone’s screen. Sitting at the kitchen table, eating my Cheerios, I contemplate telling her my plans. I know she’ll think I’m out of my noodle, but I think he might need some closure.

  “What?” she shouts back, turning on the hair dryer. She’s leaving in a few hours. Her show is filming in Vancouver this week and she has to be there by tonight.

  Setting my empty bowl in the sink and turning on the water, I rinse it and load it into the dishwasher. I hate when there’s dirty dishes in the sink.

  One of my many quirks.

  Making my way to the back of the house to Holli’s room, I sit on her bed and wait for her to finish drying her hair. I haven’t told her anything about Jennings coming home this weekend and I definitely haven’t told her about Oliver. Not that it’s really my fault. She been in her sitcom bubble and I don’t want to bother her. She has so much going on. Leaving at the bum-crack of dawn and coming home twenty to twenty four hours later, she doesn’t have time to sleep let alone listen to my guy drama. We’ve missed each other almost every day for the past three weeks. If she’s coming home, I’m leaving and vice versa. It’s sort of annoying that I miss my best friend so much, yet we live in the same house. Might as well live alone. But, I’d never leave. I’ll stay until I’m no longer welcome. Holli is family and if I’ve learned anything since I left my own family back in Kansas, it’s that she and I stay together. No matter how difficult it is to keep in touch or see each other, Holli and I will always find our way back to one another.