by Nichole Noel
No matter what happens, I don’t want to live my life without trying. Things might not always go the way that I planned, or the way that I want them to, but at least no one can say that I didn’t try.
Even if it’s with unfulfilling relationships with boring boys that I feel no spark for. Maybe it’s what I deserve, maybe I should let go of those romantic aspirations and I’ll be able to avoid disappointment.
Still, somehow, I know things can be better, that there can be a bit of magic in my life. Mom and Dad had a relationship that was magical until he died. So, it’s possible, though it might end in heartache. Should I fight for that? Or just let myself be swept up in mediocrity? I groan as I slip into my room and flop on my bed while my thoughts, as ever, turn to Connor.
Somehow, I just know if we could have gotten things right, it would have been magical between us. Somehow, I just know, if I could figure things out, they still could be. And, somehow, that’s the worst feeling of all.
******
The end of the year is rapidly approaching and I’m in the middle of having the shittiest week ever—period, horrible cramps, terrible day at work, an argument with one of my teachers, an argument with my mom—only to come home to realize that the hot water tank isn’t working, so I have to call the landlord, argue with him and then have a freezing cold shower, do my homework, and…
It’s honestly too much. I head outside after my frigid shower, hair tied into a messy bun and hidden under my snuggliest sweater. I’ve got some puffy pajama pants and slippers to complete my super sexy look as I sit on my porch and just stare out at Bellingham.
One thing that’s kind of nice about our house is the view. We can see almost to the water from our porch, and the view of the neighborhood as it glitters under the street lamps at night is really pretty, even when it rains like it is now.
The sound of the rain on our roof is calming and I close my eyes and try to take a moment for myself. It’s hard though. My mind wants to run at a million miles an hour and just refuses to stop thinking. I’m about to admit defeat and head back inside when something in our mailbox—near the front door—draws my eye.
There certainly hadn’t been anything inside of it when I’d gotten home, which meant that someone must have dropped something off when I was in the shower. Weird. I stand up from the stairs and head to the little box which is propped open by… a card! A little blue card attached to a little blue box, with my name on it written in cursive. Also, weird.
I take a look at the little card stuck to a small, rectangular blue box and think that Kennedy or Sarah must have slipped me a gift when I wasn’t listening for the door. I hold the little package close and head inside and right up to my room where I read the card, but inside is only a cryptic:
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Which is also weird. Why wouldn’t they sign the card? I know Kennedy would write something hilarious and Sarah something heartfelt, so what if it’s not from them? I slide the little blue box open and immediately realized that it is absolutely not a gift from my friends.
Sitting on a velvety black cushion is a golden bracelet with an infinity sign woven into the chain. It’s beautiful and obviously expensive and I immediately wonder who the hell has bought me something like this.
Michael is out of the picture considering he hardly ever wants to split the bill, let alone pay his share when we go out. And I know Sarah and Kennedy would sign their cards—and we had a price limit for our Christmas gifts. This bracelet would definitely go over that limit. And it’s beautiful and, as I try it on, I realize it fits perfectly.
I shake my head. This is probably the nicest thing I own and I don’t even know who to thank for it. I think for a split second that maybe mom got it for me, but I know money’s been tight, so I really doubt she could afford something like this. Grandparents are out considering they barely think to send a card to mom and me. So, I’m all out of options unless…
But there’s no way. Why would he get you something like this? He hates you, remember?
Maybe he’s playing games, or maybe he wants to fuck with me or remind me of all that he has and all that I don’t, but part of me knows the reason why he’d get me a gift like this, and if my guess is right, then it’s another piece of the Connor O’Brien puzzle that I just don’t know what to do with.
******
Kennedy, Sarah, and I end up doing our gift exchange over at Kennedy’s house because my mom’s been on a rampage lately and I’d rather get out of the house and Sarah’s place is always chaotic. Fortunately, Kennedy’s parents are chill and love both Sarah and me. Mr. and Mrs. Winters are also so adorable it makes me want to puke a little.
Mr. Winters got her a dozen roses and a vacation in Cabo for Christmas, but more than that, he commissioned a local artist to draw something special for his wife. He won’t say what yet, but Mrs. Winters thinks that it’ll be fairytale-themed.
And when he comes through the door, the way they look at each other is breathtaking—there’s no one else in the world when these two are together, just two celestial bodies pulled into each other’s orbit.
I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen people who are so obviously in love before. I mean, I barely remember how my mom and dad were together, but I can’t imagine they had enough time to develop into something like this.
I even ask Mrs. Winters about it when we’re alone together in the kitchen. She cocks her head at me, blonde hair falling to the side as she smiles at me. She looks so much like Kennedy, it’s a little startling. Same eyes, same smile, just a little older but no less beautiful.
“Well, things look perfect now, but it wasn’t always this way,” she tells me.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Mrs. Winters gives me a wink. “James wasn’t always as sweet as he is now. In college, we didn’t get along at all. The one class we shared—we sat on opposite sides of the room—and argued about everything. One day, the arguing got so bad that it carried over after class was finished, right into the hallway.
We were so animated that I think people were concerned it’d get violent, until either he stepped or I moved and one moment we were yelling, the next I was wrapped up in his arms and kissing him.”
I laugh. “Wow, that’s quite the story. So, you two hated each other?”
Mrs. Winters shook her head. “I think we challenged each other in a way that we hadn’t experienced yet in our lives. Fortunately, he still challenges me now, but we’re better at working out our issues. He’s my soulmate and I can’t imagine being with anyone else. But, listen to me, you get back to your friends, honey. Take some snacks—here! I have some prepared!”
See what I mean? Literally the perfect mom. And I’m so surprised to hear that she and Mr. Winters didn’t always get along. Kind of gives life to the little glimmer of hope in my heart that Connor and I will one day… well. Maybe not.
Any time I get my hopes up, I’m disappointed, so it’s probably better to just not hope. Ever. I sigh, grab the snacks, and head back to Kennedy’s bedroom where she and Sarah are fishing through movie cases on her bed. It’s a sizable pile of movies.
“Alright, what are we watching? Hallmark movie or something romantic. I want some winter romance,” Kennedy declares.
Sarah groans. “You always want to watch the cheesiest romance, I swear.”
“What about Pride and Prejudice?” I suggest.
“Which version?” Kennedy asks while rolling across her bed to flop onto her stomach, just barely avoiding crushing the movie cases.
“There’s more than one version?” I murmur. I’ve only ever seen the Hollywood movie. Both Sarah and Kennedy stare at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Oh my God,” Kennedy gasps.
Sarah shakes her head. “You know what this means, Kenny…”
“Grab my mini-series DVDs, stat! We’ve got a lot of miles to cover and only twelve hours to do it in.”
I look around, confused. “What’s g
oing on?”
“We’re about to change your life, and you don’t even know it,” Kennedy assures me.
“But I’ve already seen Pride and—”
“Not! Until! You’ve seen! Them all!” Sarah says, clapping her hands to punctuate her words before she’s up and off of Kennedy’s bed and fishing through her huge closet. Okay, so apparently not having seen all the movies means that I’m in for some sort of initiation.
“You guys are weird, but let’s do this,” I say.
“Snacks are ready,” Sarah states.
“Time to get some blankets and snuggle in. We’ve got a lot of Darcy to experience.”
Sarah slips a DVD into the player and the movie pops on while we all get comfy on Kennedy’s big bed and boy, was she ever right. By the time we’re through the mini-series, I’m already more seriously in love with Darcy. And it doesn’t stop there. There’s more than one series, a few movies, and by the end of it all, we’re quoting back and forth and chatting about Mr. Darcy.
“But he’s such a dick, you know? But that’s kind of why I like him,” Sarah shares.
“Mmmhmmm,” Kennedy says dreamily. “Like all that sass and hair and high-waisted pants. Too much for my poor, plebeian heart. I love a good snobby boyfriend movie. Someone who has to fight against his love because his family would disapprove before ultimately choosing you above all else—like, that’s romantic as fuck.”
“Speaking of fuck, does Darcy fuck?” I ask.
Kennedy gets a solemn look on her face. “Oh, he most certainly fucks. Sadie?”
“Definitely. Lizzy is going to be a happy woman,” Sarah offers.
We all look at each other before falling into a fit of laughter.
“Seriously though, who doesn’t dream about some rich asshole realizing that he’s being an asshole before making a super sweet declaration after he’s changed? Like, a boy changing for you? Sign me the fuck up!” Kennedy adds wistfully after we settle a little.
I almost tell them about Connor. Almost. They know that we were friends when we were kids, but that’s about it. After I moved away, they kind of forgot about how bad things were before I left and, though they can see how I am now and how he is, they also don’t know how close we used to be. It’s easier to hate someone if you never cared for them at all, but I cared a whole lot about Connor and a part deep inside of me still does.
But would they understand if I told them that I’m starting to develop feelings for someone who’s basically bullying me? Would they still be understanding if I told them how we’ve kissed?
“I wonder what it’s like to be with someone who you used to hate,” I say out loud because I’m actually wondering about it.
“If you find out that he was only mean to you because he was trying to do what he thought was right? But realized that he was being a dick at the end of it all? I mean, if it were me, and he was rich, I’d make an exception. After a lot of groveling,” Kennedy says.
Sarah laughs. “I mean, I think what Kenny’s saying is that he needs to have a good reason, otherwise, what’s the point? Why be with someone who’s just being an asshole for fun?”
I nod. “Yeah, I mean. It’s probably easier to just go with someone who’s nice from the start.”
Easier, but life is rarely easy, is it? I always manage to find myself at the bottom, clawing my way to the top. It would be nice to start out on top, just for once, instead of having to suffer through heartache and angst.
They do say that the things you have to work for end up being sweeter in the end for it, I remind myself as if that’s a consolation after feeling like shit for so long.
Maybe, if I could just talk to Connor about what the hell he wants, instead of letting him kiss me senseless whenever we’re alone, maybe I could figure out a way to make things… not work, but maybe I’d be able to move on. Finally. If I was actually able to understand.
But it’s more than that… I want there to be more between us. I’m realizing that I don’t just want to move on with my life, I want him in my life the way he used to be, but also as something new. We’re obviously attracted to each other, but there’s a lot that’s separating us. Most of which is wrapped up with Connor and his inability to tell me just why the fuck everything changed between us.
I sigh and Sarah slips in another version of Pride and Prejudice, this one more modern and Mr. Darcy is tall, dark, broody, and handsome as hell. Almost reminds me of Connor—except Conner is even more handsome, with golden skin that I just want to run my hands over, magical golden-hazel eyes, and full, pouty lips. Lips that feel oh so good when they’re pressed up against my own.
…And I’m doing it again. I barely stop myself from screaming into a pillow as Sarah and Kennedy sit nearby, oblivious to my emotions, which are flipping back and forth wildly from ‘he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve me’ to ‘maybe you just don’t know the whole story.’ I try to watch the movie, and try not to take it personally as Lizzy falls deeper in love with Mr. Darcy, and as Darcy realizes what a giant asshole he’s been all along.
And I wonder if Connor will ever figure out just what an asshole he’s being, and I try not to think about how good things could be if he changed for me.
Chapter Ten
The beginning of the year is a fucking wash and eventually February 1st rolls around and I’m entirely unprepared for it, mostly because it’s my birthday. I’m technically an adult and this is it. The final stretch between now and graduation. And I feel so weird about it.
A little voice inside my head reminds me that Connor’s birthday and mine are exactly one month apart, with his falling on January 1st because of course he’s a super special New Year’s baby. It’s the first step towards adulthood and I can’t make heads or tails of where we stand with each other.
He’d kissed me. Kissed me really good. More than once. And then treated me like absolute garbage afterward. Practically ignored me except for when he and Ainsley were making fun of me. Days pass, I swim and avoid him at the pool. He plays hockey and avoids me at the pool. We pass each other in the hall and he snickers along to whatever cutting thing Ainsley says and I try to forget what it felt like to be pressed up against him.
Michael and I go on another date, and he seems distant, so I wonder what I’ve done wrong now. I mean, once we’re away from prying eyes, he’s almost disinterested in me. I can’t imagine why he’d want to spend time with me, why he keeps asking me out for that matter, if he doesn’t like me. We barely manage to have any sort of conversation at all, so it’s probably for the best that we’re seeing a movie.
Halfway through the movie, he asks if I wanna make out and I decline because I’m not feeling it from him at all. Later, he offers to drive me home, but I say I’d rather walk. I end up hanging out at the theater, chatting with some coworkers, and one of them takes me home. I’ll definitely not be going out for any more dates with Michael.
When we spoke, it was almost like he was trying to get sordid details about my life out of me. More questions about my mom and my past and what I knew about Connor. It was all so weird; I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Fortunately, he’s also not close friends with Bobby, so he’s not invited to the Valentine’s party that’s coming up, and maybe that’s also why he’s pissed—I did get invited, and I’m sure not going to be taking him as my plus one, probably taking no one, actually.
Kennedy’s going too, but not Sarah. Sarah’s going to be out of town for the weekend at her grandma’s birthday, so I end up going to Kennedy’s to get ready. As ever, I’m amazed at the size of her room. Her king-sized bed would fill up almost, if not all, of my bedroom and she has her own bathroom where we both get ready.
Kennedy’s decided to pull her long hair into a high pony which looks so sleek and sophisticated that I almost hate her. She’s so put together all the time, and so confident, I wish I could just absorb a bit of her personality, I feel like I’d have an easier time with people if I was half as charming as she is
. Still, I feel fortunate to have her as my friend.
“Are you wearing that?” she asks, pointing to my t-shirt and jeans with her straightening iron.
I shrug. “I’m not going there to win a boyfriend or anything,” I say.
“Doesn’t mean you should admit defeat dressing like that,” she shoots back which, I’m not going to lie, hurts a bit even though she’s probably right.
Sometimes, I dress down to minimize the size of my chest and to avoid drawing attention. Which means boys don’t often talk to me, except Connor when he’s feeling assholish, but aside from Michael’s texts and infrequent coffee dates, I’m mostly invisible.
“I just don’t see the point in entering into anything serious with someone who I’m going to have to break up with once I move away.”
Kennedy glares. “What if you end up going to school locally, like me? We can rent an apartment together and, yeah, you won’t be getting out of town, but you’ll be out of your mom’s house—isn’t she still seeing that guy, Ken? Or something?”
I sigh. Mom has been getting close to someone she met through work, which is fine, but it’s uncomfortable for me when he spends the night. They’re polite, but it’s still weird having a strange man with bedhead in my kitchen, drinking from our coffee machine, in the morning.
“Yeah, but I really just don’t want to stay here,” I try to explain.
“I don’t care. I know you hate it, but you have me and Sarah and we’re a damn team, so you can’t just abandon us.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes at her drama. There’s a reason she’s so great at acting, she can go from sweet to dramatic to angry to demure faster than anyone I’ve ever met and right now she’s being super dramatic, so I know it’s better not to argue with her when she’s like this.
“Anyway, screw boys! This is for you. You’re gorgeous, Sadie—no you are!” she adds when I start groaning. “You just don’t believe in yourself. And I’m going to change that—and your shirt. And your pants. And maybe your bra.”
