Holding On

by Rachael Brownell

  Me: Good so far. Just got out of practice. I start my first class on Monday. Kind of nervous.

  He didn’t text back right away. Ethan’s car was pulling in the driveway when I heard my phone beep, but I ignored it. I only had a few hours left with him, and I wanted to enjoy them. I didn’t want to spend them thinking about anyone else.

  “Finally. Sorry it took me so long. You wouldn’t believe the line I had to stand in. You better get your books soon.” Ethan stated.

  Books? Why was he at the bookstore?

  I could see the emblem on the front of the bag as he pulled it out of the car. I was confused for only a moment before I realize what he had. He handed the bag over, and I practically ripped my gift from his hand from excitement.

  It was perfect. He was perfect. I was now the proud owner of a new tennis bag with the U’s emblem stitched across the outside. I could not believe he got this for me. How did he always know what I needed?

  “Thank you so much.” I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, and he pulled me into a hug, lifting me off the ground a few inches. He kissed my forehead before setting me back down and taking my hand in his.

  “I thought it would be nice if you showed up to your first tournament in style.” Yes, it would.

  “Plus, you’ve worked really hard to earn your place with the team. Hopefully, you’ll be able to use it next year as well.” Ethan said excitedly.

  I knew what he was referring to. Play well now, and land a spot on the “real” team with a scholarship in tow. That would be ideal, but there were six other girls that were hoping for the same thing.

  “You are awesome. I can’t wait to put my rackets in here.” I exclaimed.

  “Well, I thought you may need a new one of those too.” As he said this, he reached back into his car and pulled out a brand-new still- unstrung Prince.

  My breath caught in my throat, causing me to cough. It was the same kind that I was currently using, only new and without the battle scars. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. I was holding the most beautiful gift anyone had ever given me. It wasn’t the gift itself; it was the thought behind it. It was the person who gave it to me. I was truly touched.

  “Well, it still needs to be strung, but I made you an appointment to do that tomorrow. The pro shop across from campus will take care of it for you.”

  “Thank you. You are too good to me.”

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t leave you with just one good racket if you plan on kicking serious ass this fall, could I?”

  I had planned on buying another racket this weekend when I went shopping, but I hadn’t shared that with him. I had been completely focused on savoring every moment with him, and not too many of those moments included talking.

  I put my gifts in my car, and we went inside. Not knowing what he had planned for the rest of the day was turning my stomach in knots. I knew what I had planned for tonight, and his gift was waiting for him in my room, hidden under my bed. We would have to head over there eventually.

  Ethan popped in a movie and headed into the kitchen to make us some lunch. He returned with two sandwiches and two bottles of water just as it started. We ate in silence, and when we were both done, we put our plates on the table and lay down next to each other on the couch.

  Ethan was making small circles on my hip, barely touching my skin with the tip of his index finger, when I finally broke the silence. “Is this really what you want to do all day? Lie around and watch movies?”

  “No. What I really want to do is take you to bed, but I figure I should at least wait until dark.” Ethan said with a hint of mischief in his voice.

  I chuckled at his blatant honesty, but I was also a little turned on. I wanted nothing more than to do the same, but he would have to wait and so would I. I wanted our last night together to be perfect.

  “Well, at least your gentleman enough to wait until dark.” I ground my behind into him as I said this, knowing that he’d react as anything but a gentleman if I tried hard enough.

  “Keep doing that, and we won’t even make it to my room.” His voice was not begging me to stop but pleading with me to continue. “Should we pause the movie?”

  I stopped grinding on him, and I heard a small moan escape his lips. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath to calm myself before I spoke. “No. Let’s head over to my house, though. My mom wants to say good-bye to you, and then I was thinking that you could stay with me tonight?”

  It wasn’t meant as a question, but it came out that way. Would he want to stay with me tonight? I was sure that he would, but I had a feeling that it would be harder in the morning to say goodbye to him.

  I instantly flashed back to my last night in Michigan. Brad and I were cuddling on the couch in my living room, holding on for dear life, knowing what the morning would bring. Waking up the next morning was surreal, and saying good-bye was painful. Then I did it again over the summer. I woke up in his arms on the beach. I had to say good-bye all over again. The only difference was that last time I was trying to hold onto him as I was finally letting him go.

  “I can’t stay with you tonight. I have to pack up my car, and my parents wanted to have a late dinner together.”

  I could hear the reluctance in his voice. He wanted to stay, but he knew that he shouldn’t.

  “Do you want to head to your house now then?” He asked.

  “Okay,” I said, my disappointment apparent from just the single word I spoke. I was not interested in reliving the feeling of loss. I wanted to hold on to Ethan as long as possible. I wanted to wake up next to him in the morning and not have to let him go. I wanted a miracle to happen so that I don’t have to relive history and deal with all the pain that I knew was in store for me.

  We made it to my house just as my mom was waking up. She had to leave for work in a couple of hours, but she didn’t rush Ethan out the door like I expected her to. She actually left before he did, which surprised me more than anything. Alone with a boy in the house was not usually okay with either of my parents, but apparently, they were learning to trust me.

  Standing outside, saying good-bye to my boyfriend was the hardest thing that I had to do. I let him hold me, knowing that it would be the last time for a while that I got the chance to feel his arms around me. I felt the tears building up, so I pulled back before they could fall. “See you soon, Becca.”

  As he whispered this in my ear, I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. So much for holding them back. The back of his hand came up to softly wipe them away, just to be replaced by more seconds later. He kissed my forehead, moving his way south. My eyes were next, each of them already closed to try and fight the tears that wouldn’t stop, followed by each cheek, my nose, and then finally my lips. He didn’t linger or try to deepen the kiss like I assumed he would, but the intensity was there without trying. The sobs started coming now, and he pulled me tightly to him, resting his chin on my head.

  “We will see each other before you know it. Trust me.”

  Something in the way he said “Trust me” made me believe him unconditionally. We would see each other soon. We would see each other soon. I keep that chant going in my head as I watched him pull away and disappear in the distance.

  I headed back inside and up to my room. My phone alerted me to a new text as soon as I walked through the door. I had two waiting for me. I read Brad’s first, knowing that his won’t make me cry.

  Brad: Glad things r good. Tell Ethan I said good luck and call me after he leaves if you need to talk.

  Well, I did need to talk, but I didn’t really feel like I could form a coherent sentence right now. I’d call him later or tomorrow— whenever I start to feel like I can breathe again.

  Ethan: Stop crying and remember what I said. I will see you soon. Trust me.

  I was still crying when my sister came home. She knew why and left me to myself. Hours later, when I finally dragged myself out of bed, I heard the front door open and close again. It was almost midnight, and Am
y was sleeping.

  I grabbed the first large object I saw, an umbrella, and headed toward the living room. I rounded the corner and bumped into a firm chest, letting out a shriek. He covered my mouth to stop the scream, and immediately, I recognized those hands—Ethan’s.

  “What are you doing here?” I mumbled through his hand.

  “I had to see you. I missed you.”

  I didn’t give myself time to think or contemplate what I wanted. I knew exactly how I wanted to spend the next few hours with him before he leaves. I dropped the umbrella, grabbed his hand, and dragged him down the hall to my room, closing and locking the door behind us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Present

  When I woke up the morning after Ethan left, I felt completely empty. I stayed in bed for most of the day crying on and off. About the time my mom woke up, I was finally dragging myself into the kitchen to get some food.

  “So I take it he left this morning?” My Mom said.

  I nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to speak for fear that I would start crying again, and I wasn’t sure if I had any tears left in me. I was probably dehydrated at this point.

  “Has he called yet?” I shook my head. “He will probably call tonight after he’s settled.”

  I nodded once and excused myself.

  I needed a shower, and I needed to go back to bed. My body was drained from lack of sleep and crying. My chest hurt inside and out. The muscles were numb at this point from all my sobbing. I don’t remember it hurting this much last time. I don’t remember feeling completely alone, completely empty and void of everything.

  I headed to the bathroom and undressed slowly. I took my ring off and dropped it in the jewelry cleaner on the counter, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the emerald, remembering the resemblance to Ethan’s eyes. I needed to call Brad. He was my rock, and I needed him right now. Maybe after a hot shower, I would feel up to it.

  As I got out of the shower, the smells from the kitchen surrounded me. Crap! My mom was making enchiladas. Why would she do this to me? She couldn’t possibly have any bad news, so I guess we were “celebrating” Ethan’s departure.

  I pushed back the tears, wrapped a towel around myself, and rushed into the kitchen. My mom was browning the meat, and my sister was busy shredding cheese. They were both singing and dancing to the stereo, smiling at each other. This did not look like bad news. This looked like a family dinner.

  “Hey. What’s going on in here?” I asked. I tried to sound casual, but I knew they could both hear the hesitance in my voice.

  “Mom thought it would be nice to have dinner as a family tonight,” Amy replied with a smile plastered to her face.

  “Enchiladas?”

  “Yes,” my mom said proudly, “this was a big week for you, and come Monday you are starting college. I feel like we need to celebrate.”

  “But any other time we have these, we’re not ‘celebrating’ anything good. Today’s not really been the best day for me, and I would rather…”

  I wanted to finish my sentence, but I was cut off with a stern look from my mother. “We are starting a new tradition. We are only eating enchiladas when we are celebrating, starting today,” my mom stated in her no-nonsense kind of way.

  That conversation was over. I knew the tone she was taking with me. I didn’t want to upset her. She was trying to make a nice dinner to celebrate all my accomplishments. Bad timing on her part with Ethan leaving today, but maybe that was on purpose. She probably didn’t want me to sulk all day. Well, the rest of the day anyway.

  “All right. I have to run downtown to the pro shop and get my new racket strung. I shouldn’t be gone long, maybe an hour. I should be back in time for dinner.”

  “You will be back in time for dinner,” my mom said. The emphasis on will was hard to miss. She was not taking no for an answer. I nod in agreement before I headed to my room and got dressed.

  Walking into the pro shop, a calm descended upon my body. I felt at home around anything related to tennis. I allowed my eyes to glance around and take in the store. Rackets lined one wall, shoes on the other. I saw at least a dozen racks of clothes that I knew I wouldn’t be able to pass by without looking at. As I was taking in my surroundings, I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I spotted the service counter. With my racket frame in hand, I approached the pretty young girl.

  “Can I help you?” She asked sounding irritated by my presence. Her tone was cold and uninviting, the opposite of the feeling this place gave me. A glance at her nametag told me her name was Jennifer.

  “Yes. I have an appointment to get this strung today,” I replied firmly. I can be cold too.

  “Name.” “Becca Blake.”

  “Oh, Miss Blake, glad you could make it! Do you know how much tension you would like in your strings?”

  Wow! Her tone had sure changed. It went from frosty bitch to “Let me see how well I can kiss your ass” in two seconds flat. What had Ethan paid these people?

  Twenty minutes later, I wrapped up with Jennifer and arranged to pick up my racket on Monday after my second class. I had practice that night, so I should be able to spend a few hours breaking it in before then.

  My cell rang just as I was pulling out of the parking lot of the pro shop. It was Brad. Wondering if I had enough strength to have the conversation I knew was coming, I answer the phone anyway.

  “Hey,” I said in the way of a greeting as soon as I picked up the phone. I tried to sound excited to talk to him, but I was pretty sure it didn’t come across that way.

  “Hey, yourself. How are you doing this afternoon?” He asked hesitantly.

  I let out a little sigh. That about covered how I was feeling right now. “Not really sure how to put it into words, I guess.”

  “Hang in there. It will get easier, I promise.”

  There was something in his voice that made me think he knew something I didn’t. I wanted to ask, but my phone beeped, and I saw that my mom was calling on the other line.

  “Hey, Mom’s calling me. Can I call you back later tonight?”

  “Why don’t you call me Monday when you get home from practice? I sent you something today, and I want to be on the phone with you when you get it.”

  It had been like this for almost a month. We’d talk for five minutes, then “Call you tomorrow” or “Call you next week.” I could feel the ground crumbling under our friendship, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I really did want to talk to him, to know how he was doing. I still cared about him—I always will. I just couldn’t do it right now.

  “Sounds good. Talk to you then.” I flipped over to my mom’s call without waiting for him to reply. “What’s up, Mom?”

  “Are you on your way home yet?” Mom asked sounding irritated that I was not home already.

  “I should be there in about ten minutes. Why?”

  “Just wondering. Dinner should be done by then.”

  “Great.” I tried to put a little enthusiasm in my voice, but I knew that I failed miserably. “See you in a minute then.”

  I needed to think about something else right now. Ethan, no. That would be depressing. I could call Brad back, but I still didn’t want to talk about Ethan and he would want to. Wait. Did he say that he was sending me something? I’d have to ask him when I call him later. I was dreaming about what he could have possibly sent me as I pulled in the driveway and hustled through the front door. The smell of enchiladas brought me back to reality.

  What was I really celebrating? I made another elite tennis team? I had done this before. I was starting college? Not really, it was only two classes. There wasn’t much to celebrate, and I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate.

  I rounded the corner, fully intent on telling my mom how I felt, when I stopped in my tracks and my breath caught in my throat. What was he doing here?

  “You’re mom invited me over for dinner. I hope you don’t mind.” Ethan said, his voice dropping a few octaves as he looked me up and down l
ike I was on the menu tonight.

  Mind? Why would I mind?

  “Um…no. How? Here? What?” I stuttered. I was making no sense. I didn’t know what I wanted to ask, but I knew that I had a shit load of questions.

  “How? That’s easy. I drove. Here? It looks like I’m here. What? I’m not sure how to answer that one.”

  The grin on his face caused me to smile. He was teasing me. I rushed into his arms, and it felt like his body swallowed me whole. How was it possible that just over twelve hours ago I was wallowing, and now here he was standing in front of me?

  “What are you doing here?” I finally got a full sentence out before his mouth captures mine in the most intense kiss we’ve ever shared. It was the most intense kiss I’ve ever had.

  “Well, going to school at the U has its privileges. One of them is that I can see you whenever I want.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my neck before whispering in my ear. “I told you to trust me. I promised we would see each other soon, and I always keep my promises.”

  As I pulled away from his embrace I realized that he’s wearing a U t-shirt. I was so caught up in showing him how I felt last night that I forgot to make him tell me what college he finally chose. He had been avoiding talking about it all week, and I hadn’t pushed for an answer.

  “You’re going to the U? Why? What made you chose them?”

  “Well, their team is great. All the teams were great, though. It came down to the one thing that I didn’t want to live without.” He was staring straight at me, and when our eyes met, I knew I was that one thing. “When you were at your dad’s, you were the only thing I could think of. I went to all those camps, and you were the one thing that was missing. I didn’t choose the U, Becca—I chose you.”