As she took her place across from Nate, it left only two seats open—the one across from Luke and the one at the head of the table. While I would have liked to convince Danielle that she should sit across from Luke, I didn’t think my reasoning would fly. Hesitantly, I sat down, but kept my eyes trained on the table.
“Well, fortunately, you both made it out of chemistry unscathed,” Danielle said, laughing.
“I wasn’t the one who usually got into a jam,” Josh argued. “This is the kid who evacuated an entire school.”
My heart began hammering in my chest, and I felt like my head was underwater. I blindly stabbed at a piece of broccoli, jamming it into my mouth so that I’d have an excuse not to chime in.
“Yes, for Joan,” Nate added. “Whatever happened to poor Joan?”
“Retired,” I deadpanned. “She has a place in Florida now. Weather’s good. Booze is cheap.”
“God, you never went anywhere without that thing,” Megan added, rolling her eyes.
“Seriously, I thought you were going to lose your mind that day,” Danielle said, unaware that I actually had lost my mind and had cried like an idiot in the middle of the hallway. Only Luke knew that. Embarrassed, I shot back quickly.
“I did a lot of stupid things back then.”
I hadn’t meant to send any messages to Luke. I honestly was just trying to explain away why I had acted so emotional and crazy that day. I couldn’t tell them that I had time-traveled and fallen in love. Brushing it off was the next best thing, but when I looked up to see Luke studying me curiously, I wasn’t sure I had chosen my words well.
Fortunately, Nate changed the subject, talking about shop class, Megan, and how he wanted to murder every last guy in the room that day.
“I only had eyes for you,” she teased.
“And he certainly had eyes for you. At least part of you,” I added, obviously bypassing my internal filter.
“Ohh!” Josh bellowed. “Are you saying Nate had wandering eyes?”
“Well, that was the general idea,” I said casually.
“What do you mean?” Nate asked, looking at me suspiciously.
“I mean I told her to stick out her ass so you could look at it, and you did. Now you’re getting married, and you’re welcome.”
“It was more complicated than that,” Megan countered.
“I can vouch for that,” Luke added, looking at Nate, not me. “Everything was complicated.”
“You knew about this?” he asked.
Luke nodded, swallowing his food.
“You seduced me!” Nate gasped, looking at Megan. “That’s so hot.”
“Whore,” Danielle shouted, laughing.
“Who, me?” he asked. “I was a boy scout before Jezebel here led me over to the dark side.”
“You like the dark side,” Megan replied, with a stupid, happy grin.
Their flirtatious banter led to wedding talk. While Megan filled Nate and Josh in on the bridesmaid dress search—something I’m sure they would have rather skipped—I looked surreptitiously at Luke. There was nothing covert about it, though, when I realized he was staring back. He held my gaze for a moment—not smiling, but searching my face for something. I just didn’t know what.
A half-hour later, Nate had consumed a metric ton of pasta and most of our plates were empty. Josh had been reminiscing about how overbearing Danielle was in school.
“Do you remember the top hat?” he asked, glaring at Danielle.
“Dude, everyone remembers the top hat,” Nate added.
“I don’t care what you say,” she replied defensively. “It was classy.”
“It was stupid,” Megan countered.
“No, stupid is spiking the punch,” Danielle retorted, narrowing her eyes at Luke.
“No, stupid is drinking the punch,” Nate added. That was obviously meant for me.
“Stupid is thinking that no one saw that your shirt was buttoned wrong when you got into the limo,” I shot back.
“Then stupid is disappearing behind the gym with your date and coming back a half-hour later wearing her lipstick.”
“I wasn’t even wearing lipstick,” I argued.
“Oh, snap! I can’t believe you walked into that. I was totally guessing,” he exclaimed, laughing. “Josh, gimme some,” he added, raising his hand up for a high-five.
Again, with my face burning from embarrassment, I glanced over at Luke. This time he wasn’t looking up at me. He was staring at his glass and swirling the liquid around inside. He was a million miles away.
While Danielle brought out pastries and coffee, Nate entertained everyone with his retelling of the Great Race of 1999 where Megan’s sports bra beat him by a hair. Nate cried foul, stating that the sports bra used diversionary tactics to win. Megan felt that it was unfair to have the conversation when the sports bra wasn’t present to defend itself. Josh suggested mediation.
The walk down memory lane was beginning to wear on me, though. It was difficult enough sitting across from Luke—nevermind listening to everyone recount the events that led to my breaking his heart.
“Remember when Wakefield threw up all over that freshman at the bonfire,” Nate asked. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. “Poor girl was traumatized.”
I froze when he mentioned the bonfire—images of our night at the cliffs playing in my head. I wanted to look at Luke. I wanted to see that he was affected the same way I was, but I was terrified that he might not even think about it at all.
“I hated the bonfire,” Danielle complained. “And poor Jillian was stuck at home, punished. I so wanted to bail and keep her company.”
Luke let out a rueful laugh. “Yeah. Must have been hard missing out on all the fun,” he added, meeting my gaze.
I doubted that anyone at the table would have noticed the silent exchange between us. I doubted anyone was paying close enough attention, but as he looked up at me through his crazy long lashes, the red tint in his cheeks and atop his ears spoke volumes. He was remembering everything.
“I remember Val was looking everywhere for you that night, Luke,” Danielle added. “It was pretty pathetic.”
“Did you hear what happened to her?” Megan asked, looking excited to share some gossip.
“No, what?” she asked.
“Sarah Spellman told me at the reunion. Well, Val started a consulting business with a girl she met at NYU. So, she starts sleeping with the husband of one of their clients—some socialite. The wife finds out—goes public, giving Page Six a full account of how she was wronged. When the news gets out, all of their clients fire them. None of the Upper Eastsiders trusted their husbands around her. The business folded last month. Sarah said she’s moving back to Reynolds.”
Speechless, I remembered the conversation I had with Danielle right before my big accident. Danielle, crying in our living room, saying that she was ready to walk away from the company she worked so hard to build, just to break free of Val. That poor girl who was Val’s business partner—the one whose business was now closed—could have been Danielle.
“Wow,” Danielle replied, dazed. “She mentioned something about going into business together once, but I never followed up with her. Good thing, huh?”
“Lucky break,” I muttered.
“So many train wrecks in our class,” Megan continued. “And there was way too much puke Senior Week. Wakefield at the bonfire. Jillian after the prom. And Karen at Tyler’s party!”
“Oh man,” Nate exclaimed. “The ice luge! You never should’ve left for school early, Jill. That was the best. Luke, man, you missed that, too. Karen had her mouth attached to that luge all night. Wakefield went to carry her to his car and wham! Pukes all over his shoes!”
“Yeah, where were you that night?” Josh asked. “You sort of disappeared after graduation.”
“I was around,” he replied, uncomfortably, suddenly looking at his watch. “Um, I actually think I need to get going.”
“Already?” Danielle pouted. “You c
an’t stick around a little longer? I promise I won’t make you play Pictionary.”
“Pictionary, wow. No, I mean I have to check in at the bar. Peter—”
“I thought Tuesday was your night off?” she asked, not letting him off the hook. Did she know why he wanted to leave? Did she know that we had hit upon almost every traumatic memory in our short time together? Did she even realize that he was probably dying to run as far away from me as he could get?
“Yeah, but I like to check in,” he explained, never making eye contact.
Liar.
“Well, we’ll have to do this again soon,” she added, hopefully.
“Yes, absolutely. Thank you for having me,” he replied, his voice sounding strained. He stood, giving her a quick hug.
“Maybe next week?” Danielle pressed.
“Um, maybe. I have a busy week with the restaurant, but yeah, maybe.”
As he turned to leave, he waved, never making eye contact with me, and then he was gone.
“Well, Dan my man, it wasn’t the food,” Nate began, “because it was definitely your best batch.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, ignoring Nate and covering my hand with hers.
“Why are we sorry?” Nate asked, looking between me and Danielle.
“He needed time, remember?” Megan chimed in, sympathetically.
“Time? What are we talking about?” he asked, exasperated.
“Jillian and Luke,” Megan replied, with a glare that was clearly meant to tell him to stop talking.
“Wow, man, I’m lost,” he said to Josh, shaking his head.
“Come on,” Josh replied, signaling to the living room. “I’ll fill you in.”
I was so consumed with conflicting emotions that it was hard for me to focus on one. I felt numb. It was just too much—reliving the memories that were so recent and raw, and witnessing his reactions to them all at the same time.
I knew he was mad. I knew he didn’t trust that I wouldn’t hurt him again, but I also knew he hadn’t let go. While I was the one resistant in high school—afraid to get attached and alter the course of time—this time it was Luke who was making things more difficult than they needed to be. I kept remembering his words from the cliffs—not so long ago.
I’m not letting you avoid this anymore.
“We knew it would take some time,” Danielle began. “We’ll go to the bar this weekend, or I’ll plan a movie night. Or, maybe—”
“No,” I interrupted.
“No?”
“No, he doesn’t get to leave.”
“Sweetie, he’s already gone,” she replied, looking at me like I had finally lost it.
It took me less than a minute to make up my mind. Pushing away from the table, I marched into the living room and grabbed my purse.
“Jillian, don’t go home yet!” Megan pleaded.
“I’m not going home,” I replied, matter-of-factly.
“Wait, are you…you’re going after him?” Danielle exclaimed.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said, hugging her quickly.
“Oh my God! I feel like I should stop you and wish you good luck all at the same time!”
“I’ll call you,” I said, rushing out the door.
I jogged to my car, unprepared for the rain that had begun to fall. In all honestly, I didn’t really care. As soon as I shut the car door, though, the sky opened up and the rain fell harder, sweeping across the ground in sheets. I could practically feel it punishing the roof of my car. It didn’t bring with it the type of sound that was calming, like the noise machines you buy at The Sharper Image. It was an angry downpour. How fitting.
As I drove frantically through the busy streets, the harsh lights of the city reflected off the giant puddles that the surprise storm had created. I focused on the clock on my dashboard and nervously laid on the horn when the car in front of me slowed to a crawl.
When I arrived in his neighborhood, I looked up at the street sign, blurred by the rain. I jerked the wheel roughly, pulling into the darkened parking lot. I didn’t care that my umbrella was at home. I didn’t care that there wasn’t a hood on my jacket. I didn’t care that the rain would turn my hair into a wet, frizzy mess.
I stumbled out of the car, running up the steps of the building behind a clearly smarter person holding an umbrella. I dashed into the elevator, and up to the twenty-seventh floor. Panting and shivering, I rang the doorbell then knocked impatiently.
When the door cracked open, I was blinded by the glare inside.
“Jesus, Jillian,” he said, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “You’re drenched.”
“I’m not…I’m not waiting for you to get your shit together anymore,” I stammered as drops of water trailed from my hair down my face.
As my words registered, he looked stricken. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t have a plan. I hadn’t prepared a speech, but he was standing in the doorway in a white t-shirt and jeans with no shoes, and I just snapped.
With every ounce of strength I had, I grasped his upper arms and pushed him back inside and up against the wall next to the door. Catching him completely off-guard, I launched myself at him, grabbing his face between my wet hands before my mouth descended on his. His hands tensed, suspended in the air at his sides. His lips tensed, unprepared for my attack. I tensed, afraid that he wouldn’t respond and kiss me back.
Please, kiss me back.
Then, at the same time, he slowly tilted his head to the side, parting his lips and bringing his hands up to rest on my waist. God, I missed his lips.
Emboldened, I snaked my hand up into his hair, tugging roughly, eliciting a groan that sounded like I had tugged maybe a little too hard. Before I could ask if I had been embarrassingly overeager, he spun us around, pining me up against the wall, touching his open lips against mine—breathing into my mouth and making me feel more alive than I had any right feeling.
“I’m not letting you avoid this,” I whispered, echoing his words from years ago. “I know you want me, too.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his forehead against mine, looking pained and conflicted. I needed him to focus. I needed him to come back to me.
“Luke, I swear to you, I could never hurt you again. I barely lived without you the first time. I just…I can’t give you time. We’ve wasted—I’ve wasted—so much time. If you give me a chance, I’ll prove what I already know. But if I’m wrong and you want me to leave, I will. And I promise I won’t bother you again. I just have to know.”
As he stared at me, his gazed unwavering, I thought of the moments in life when you know however the situation turns out, things will never be the same. I thought of how I wanted, for just a moment, to freeze time and stay here before he answered because if he told me I was wrong—if he told me he could never forgive me—I honestly didn’t know what I’d do. I thought about how good it felt to be pressed against him, feeling the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath. I thought that this was right—we were right—and I hoped he saw that, too.
When Luke slowly backed away from me, my heart sank and I felt sick. I could hear my labored breaths and feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes.
Dragging his hands from the top of his head down his face, he turned and walked slowly toward the window facing the lights of Bainbridge Island as I stood frozen in place, unable to make a move or sound.
It seemed like forever—it probably wasn’t—when he turned to face me, looking tired and young and more like my Luke than he ever had.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said.
And my heart started beating again.
CHAPTER 24
Luke
I was always a black and white type of guy. You’re either right or wrong; a winner or a loser. You either want her, or you don’t. You either forgive her, or you don’t. Except nothing—nothing— was black and white with Jillian.
For over ten years, I wondered why she left without telling me. For over ten years, I thought t
hat it was something I said, or something I did. I thought maybe she wanted a fresh start in a new school. I thought maybe she wanted a new life. Now suddenly, after years of wondering, I had answers, but the answers just seemed to complicate things more.
It took Jillian years to figure out that she wanted to know me again. It took me less than a month to turn back into the loser I was in high school, hanging on her every word. There was no way I could deny that I still wanted her—not after the way I had been acting. But wanting her wasn’t the problem—it was never the problem…trusting her was.
So while I sat at Josh and Danielle’s dining room table, I tried to forget that Jillian made a really big mistake a long time ago. I tried to forget that I almost chased her across the country. I tried to forget about all the time I spent wondering. I tried to just enjoy my goddamn dinner.
I listened to everyone recount all of their twisted high school memories. I joined in when it seemed appropriate, and ignored the pain in my chest when something hit a nerve. But the tension slowly began to build. When Jillian said she did a lot of stupid things in high school, I wondered if she was thinking about the nervous boy pawing her on a scratchy, old blanket. When she mentioned Nate’s wandering eyes, I thought about how I watched her in shop class—never taking my eyes off her body. When she joked about the lipstick she wore to the prom, I thought about Dream Jillian and her red, red lips.
But it was when Josh mentioned Tyler Burroughs’s party that I snapped. Instead of going to the party with Jillian, I was at home thinking about flying to New York and demanding an explanation.
It was too much. Almost instantly I was furious—not because of what happened in high school—but because I couldn’t enjoy a simple dinner without being reminded of it. Forgive her or don’t. It should be easy. But it just wasn’t.
So I left, annoyed and frustrated, vowing that I would get my shit together. If I was going to keep seeing Jillian—if I ever wanted to be friends with Jillian—I needed to let this go.
I never would have expected the doorbell to ring. I never would have expected to see her at my door, wet from the rain and determined to come inside. I almost told her that it had been a long night and that we’d talk in the morning, but instead, I opened the door wider and let her inside.
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