Holding On

by Rachael Brownell

  The same thing happened on the way to all of my other classes. Finally, I quit trying to pull away because holding his hand felt right. Yearbook was my last period of the day, and the closer we got to the classroom, the slower my feet started to move. I didn’t want the day to end. I didn’t want to let go of his hand. I saw the looks we were getting, and I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to hold on to him. He was my rock. He was the only thing that was getting me through this last day, and he knew that I would need him today before I even knew that I would need him.

  As we rounded the corner to the yearbook room, I tried to pry my hand from his. Claire was my junior editor. She was bound to be around somewhere. We had managed to avoid her all day, but I knew that we would get caught if I didn’t find a way to break free. I stopped walking just short of the classroom and pulled him into the girls’ bathroom. He was inside before he even realized what was going on.

  “Um, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

  “I know that. What is all this?” I was holding our intertwined hands up high for him to see. His only response was a smile and a quick squeeze of my hand. “Claire could be anywhere around here. Are you trying to cause a fight between you guys?”

  “No. She’s not here today. Her family left last night to go to the Bahamas for the holidays.”

  Oh! So he knew that we wouldn’t get caught holding hands and that by the time break was over, everyone would have forgotten what they saw. Genius plan on his part, but I didn’t want to be a part of it. I pulled my hand from his and shoved it in my pocket. I love this man to death, but I did not want to be the reason for a fight between him and Claire again.

  “Look, I have to get to class. I’ll meet you at my car after school. We can go get coffee or something, okay?”

  “Fine, but how do you suggest I sneak out of here without being noticed?”

  Fair point. He was standing in a girls’ bathroom. Walking out into a hall full of people would not exactly be easy. He was just going to have to wait until the bell rang.

  “I guess you better wait for class to start.” I could feel the smile on my face growing bigger as I inched closer to the door. “I gotta go.”

  I darted out the door before he could grab me and make me wait with him. I crossed the threshold of the yearbook room just as the bell rang for class to start and stopped dead in my tracks. The entire room was decorated, and there was even a cake. I was going to be spending my last hour of my last day eating sugar and hanging out with my friends. Nothing could be better.

  When the bell finally rang, I hugged each of my classmates before walking into my office. I took one look at my desk and started to cry. This was it. I created this book, and now it was going to be taken over by someone else, someone less qualified. I felt like I had when I found out how bad my shoulder injury was. My heart was crushed.

  Walking to my car, waving as my friends sped out of the lot past me, made me realize that I made it. This was a tough week. Saying good-bye to everyone and telling the story over and over again because that’s all people wanted to talk about had completely drained me. Somehow, I made it through. Even today, I made it through as hard as it was.

  Now I just had to get through the holidays. Christmas use to be my favorite time of year before my parents split. The people who say that the holidays are better after your parents get divorced because you get twice the presents obviously are not from divorced parents. Being a child of divorce during the holidays just makes things more stressful, and my stress level was code red already. I didn’t need any more stress.

  Two more weeks. That was all I was going to get. Two more weeks of normalcy with my friends that I had known since I moved here in middle school. Two more weeks with the best friend I have ever had, who was currently leaning against my car waiting for me.

  It went by fast. Before I could really comprehend what was happening, I was walking in Ella and Emma’s front door as their parents were walking out. New Year’s Eve! The end of one thing and the beginning of another. How fitting to my situation. I had spent the last two weeks of break packing up my entire life, and today I spent loading it into a U-Haul truck. We were leaving bright and early in the morning, and I was expected home at a “decent hour” to make sure that I got plenty of rest for the drive.

  Yes, I was driving across the country. You can only hook up one car to a U-Haul, so when I refused to sell my car, I was told that I would have to drive it out. The only highlight was that I didn’t have to be stuck with my mom for the entire ride. I was still barely on speaking terms with her. The longest conversation I’d had with her since she told me we were moving was at Christmas dinner with my grandparents. I was doing my best to be social and somewhat civil. I realized about halfway through dinner that I should probably just stop talking by the looks I was receiving from my grandparents. Let’s just say that they were less than enthusiastic about some of my comments. Grandpa actually poked me in the elbow with his fork twice.

  As the rest of my friends started to arrive, I got restless. I knew that this was the last time I was going to see most of them, at least for quite a while. I planned on coming back for the summer and staying with my dad for a couple of weeks, but things change.

  People change. Friendships are hard enough when you see each other every day, let alone when you live 1,905.6 miles apart. I wasn’t going to hold it against anyone if our friendship died out—anyone, except Brad, that is, who had yet to show his face at the party.

  I mingled for a few hours and spent some quality time with a few friends that I knew would still be in my life after I crossed state lines. As midnight got closer, I began to get worried about Brad. He was supposed to pick up Claire and meet me at the party. She was not excited about their plans, and I wasn’t excited about her being present, but he knew it meant a lot to me for him to come tonight. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice about not celebrating the New Year with him, but this was different.

  We had only spent one New Year’s Eve together since becoming friends. It was eighth grade, and our parents had insisted that we stay in because of a huge snow storm that was supposed to be blowing in. Brad came to my house, and we were going to hang out and watch the ball drop with a few other friends. Their parents had decided that they needed to stay home. It ended up being just the two of us, eating junk food and acting crazy from too much sugar and caffeine. We both passed out before midnight. It’s one of my favorite memories of us.

  We all counted down at midnight, and shortly after, people started to leave with their designated drivers. I found my purse and pulled out my phone to send Brad a nasty text since he never showed up. To my surprise, I found a text from him waiting for me. When he didn’t show up to the party, my only thought was that Claire had kept him away somehow. He should have been here. He should have at least come to say good-bye to me. I was about to explode with anger when I opened his text.

  Brad: I’m sry. there was no way I could say gdbye with evry1 else around. text me b4 u leave. happy new year! lv Brad

  Crap! How is it that I can forgive him in an instant? I should be mad at him for bailing on our last night to be able to hang out together, and I can’t. Damn him! Now I had to see him in the morning, and I was going to cry, and then I was going to have to drive. Well, that was not going to work for me. I needed to be up and gone early, and crying was not part of the plan.

  Me: Where r u right now?

  I waited until I heard my phone ting and stood shocked to see his reply. I grabbed my purse, gave Emma and Ella a hug, along with about ten other people, and bolted out the door. I drove as fast as possible without breaking too many laws, and as I pulled into my apartment complex, my heart dropped into my stomach. He really was here.

  Stepping inside the crappy apartment was like stepping into a fairy tale. Sparkly white Christmas lights hung from the ceiling (they were not there when I left earlier), soft music was playing in the background, and the TV was still on one of the countdown shows. Brad stood in the
center of the room, wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his beautiful upper body in all the right places and jeans that sat just perfectly low enough on his hips that I knew the top of his boxers would be visible if he lifted up his shirt. Wow! He truly was gorgeous, and he was waiting for me.

  “Hey,” he said in such a low voice that I wondered for a moment why he was whispering. I knew my mom was home, but I was sure that she was not asleep since Brad was still here. Leaving or not, no matter how much she trusted us together, she would never allow this to happen. Me alone with a boy was equal to me grounded for life.

  “Happy New Year!” I replied for lack of anything else to say. I think I was still in a state of shock over finding him here. My eyes were glued to his, and I couldn’t tear them away. As I stared at him, I realized that I had wasted the past five years wanting this—his arms around me tightly, his clean scent overwhelming me. His friendship was the most important thing in my life, and I never wanted to lose that, but this was even better. I had pushed the dreams that our relationship would move in this direction out of my mind over and over again, and it had to happen now. Why now? Why did he have to show me how he felt when things were so screwed up? It was completely unfair to both of us.

  I was still in shock when he crossed the room and took my hand. As if reading my mind, he pulled me forward into a hug, and I let myself melt into him, inhaling all that was Brad. I was not going to be able to live without his warmth. Do not cry! Do not cry! I kept repeating this to myself until he released me from our hug and pulled me to the couch. I sat wrapped up in his arms, trying to find something to say. Nothing was going to make this easier, and nothing was going to change it.

  As if he sensed what I was thinking, he laid us down and pulled a blanket over us. I snuggled into him and tried to get my emotions in check. After a few deep breaths, I look up to find him watching me. I couldn’t help but look into his beautiful eyes, such a rich brown with just a dusting of gold around his irises. He was waiting for me to fall apart, and so was I. Without another word from either of us, we cuddled up together, and he held me until sleep encompassed me.

  When I awoke, I immediately felt alone. Brad was no longer cuddled up with me but was at the end of the couch, watching me sleep. He was holding a small box and an envelope in his massive hands. He looked completely deflated. He must have slept even less than I did by the shadows under his eyes and the fact that there were two steaming cups of coffee sitting next to him. He had obviously been up for a while if he had gone out for coffee.

  I sat up and stretched, never taking my eyes off of his. He moved a little close and pulled me in for a hug. As he pulled away, he set the box in my lap and pulled my hand to his chest, right over his heart. He kissed me lightly and rested his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a minute before he broke the silence.

  “Remember what I said”—he patted my hand that was over his heart—“Always here.”

  With that, he kissed me once more, and it felt final. I felt the good- bye in his touch. By the time, I opened my eyes he was gone. I suddenly felt completely and utterly alone for the first time in my life. That’s when every emotion I had been bottling up the past three weeks came crashing down, and I sobbed like a child.

  The drive took less time than I thought it would, and we arrived in Tucson four days later. I was exhausted by the time we got there, and after unpacking the U-Haul, I felt every ounce of adrenaline drain from my body. I grabbed a blanket and snuggled up on my bare mattress, but the sleep I so desperately wanted and needed seemed to elude me. I couldn’t turn my brain off. The only thing I could think about was Brad.

  I could still feel his kiss. I could still smell his cologne mixed with his soap and all that made him smell so amazing. I could still picture the defeated look in his eyes when I woke up to find him sitting at the end of the couch. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, he was there—I could see him clear as day. Every time I opened my eyes, I could smell him and feel his touch. Every time I tried to block it out, all I could feel was the pain. The pain was more real than anything.

  Remembering that I still had yet to open his gift, I got up and began to rummage through my purse. The instruction on the top of the box told me to wait until I was here to open it. I didn’t understand why at first, but Brad assured me that there was a very good reason and that once I opened his gift, I would see for myself.

  We had talked a few times during the trip. It was mostly him calling to make sure that I was still alive since he never did trust me behind the wheel. He kept me company until I was sure my phone battery would die and we would end our call. Our conversations were never about anything important and most definitely never about our relationship or anything that had happened in the last few weeks. I don’t think I would ever be able to talk to him about my feelings. Nothing was going to change the situation we put ourselves in. Nothing was going to bring me back home.

  I found the package and went back to my bed to open it. The card was taped to the top of the box still with the instructions printed on the envelope. I brushed my finger over his handwriting and then carefully removed the envelope from the package. As I opened it, I realized that there was not a card inside but a photo of the two of us. It had been taken last spring after one of my tennis matches. I was glistening from head to toe with sweat and, of course, Brad looked deliciously well put together. I flipped it over to find a little message on the back.

  This may not be the most recent picture of us but it is my favorite. This is the day that I realized I was in love with you. My best friend, my entire world. You will always be here with me in my heart. I know that my gift is a little much but when I saw it I knew you would love it and I hope that it reminds you of our special connection every time you look at it.

  Love always, Brad

  Holy crap! I was too shocked to cry and was shaking so hard that I couldn’t even grip the photo anymore. It floated to the bed and landed face up. As I stared at the handsome man standing next to me, the tears finally began to fall. I could see the love in his eyes. How had I missed that? Why did he have to wait until I was so far away to tell me? As I glanced over at myself in the photo, I saw something in myself that scared the crap out of me. Love. Whether I realized it at the time or not, I was in love with him back then. I knew I was fighting some feelings for him over the past few year or so, but I never really thought that I was in love with him. That’s just wasn’t the type of relationship that we had. Not to mention, he had just started dating Claire.

  I pulled myself together, trying to imagine what’s under the wrapping paper. I slowly pulled it back and realized that it’s a black velvet box. Double crap! He bought me jewelry. Now I realized why he made me wait. I would have never let him spend money on jewelry for me. The only jewelry I wore was a watch, and that was to always make sure I was on time. The watch didn’t really seem to help most of the time since I was often late.

  My hands began to shake as I tossed the wrapping paper on the floor. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves as I lifted the lid. When I opened them, I completely lost all restraints and began to cry again. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on, and it fit perfectly. As I slid the ring on my right hand, it felt like it was meant to be there. It was the darkest green emerald I have ever seen. Brad was right—I love it, but it was too much.

  I jumped off the bed and began to rummage through my purse again for my phone. I realized that it was midnight here, which meant that it was 3:00 a.m. there, but I didn’t really care. I had to talk to him. I had to thank him for my present. What I really wanted was to see him, to hold him, to kiss him. Damn it! I pressed Send before my nerves got the better of me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I heard his voice. As if expecting my phone call, he picks up after only two rings.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep after all that driving?” he asked without saying hello.

  “Yes, but I had a pressing matter that requ
ired my attention as soon as I got settled, remember?” I didn’t say anything else. I was waiting for him to say something when I heard a voice in the background—Claire’s. “It sounds like I’m interrupting, so I’ll just call you in the morning,” I stuttered out quickly before I hang up without so much as a good-bye.

  It took about thirty seconds for my phone to vibrate, and he was calling me back. I was contemplating whether or not to answer when the vibrating stops. I don’t know if I was relieved that he hung up or if I was sad. I wanted to talk to him, to thank him for his gift, but Claire was with him at 3:00 a.m., and that could only mean one thing. He had moved their relationship to the next level.

  Really? The last three weeks we spent together, I got the impression that he was wanting to move their relationship in the opposite direction. He made me feel like he wanted to be with me. Now he was progressing with her. Was it because I left? Was he regretting everything that happened between us? Was I a mistake to him? Did he even really love me? I gripped my phone and debated whether or not to throw it against the wall when it alerted me to a text message. I rolled my eyes and opened my phone.

  Brad: Not what you think it is. answer ur phone.

  Just like magic, it vibrated again, and I knew that this would go on all night if I didn’t answer. I really did want to talk to him. I wanted to hear the sound of his voice. Even when I was mad at him, it would soothe me in a way that I could not explain.

  “Yeah,” I said. I tried to keep my voice flat and free of emotion, but which emotion was I trying to hide? There are so many running through my body right now I can barely decide how I feel.

  “Look, it’s not what you are thinking. I know where your mind just went, and it went too far. She’s gone now, so let’s talk. I’m gonna guess you opened your gift.” He said this all with such an exasperated tone that I knew they just had a huge fight and that was why she was at his house so late. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug, but that was impossible.