Just Watch the Fireworks

by Monica Alexander

  I hoped she was right. I knew this was my last chance, and I desperately needed it to work. My heart swelled with possibility as she slipped away to work on getting Beckett to talk to me. I still wasn’t sure how she was planning on accomplishing that, but I guess the logistics of the situation weren’t really my concern.

  I headed to the makeshift bar where I saw Kate and Tim who were still together after three months. For the first time since I’d known her, she was actually getting serious about someone. In an effort to take my mind off of what I would have to do in just a short amount of time, I asked for a dirty martini. I needed some liquid courage. I was scared to death of laying my feelings on the line and hoped I could get the words out.

  I sipped it slowly while I talked to Kate and Tim while stealing surreptitious glances at Beckett. His back was to me, so he couldn’t see me staring at him. I narrowed my eyes, as I watched his hand resting on Kelsey’s lower back. While we stood there, many people from my childhood came up to say hello, including Beckett’s sister Jill and her husband, Chris, and Beckett’s parents. I’d seen them more than Beckett over the past few years since whenever I was home I always made a point to say hello when I saw them. They were the nicest people.

  Before I knew it, Katie came by to tell me to be in Summer’s room in five minutes. She was going to make up some reason for Beckett to go in there. My stomach flipped as I realized how close I was to getting what I had wanted for so long. I prayed it would work. I needed it to work. It had to. Katie and Kate hugged me and sent me off with well-wishes. At least my friends were behind me.

  In Summer’s room, I waited anxiously as the minutes ticked by. I sat on her bed, but then thought that looked too posed, so I got up and went to stand by the French doors that opened to her balcony. Summer’s room was in the back of the house and had its own balcony that was just big enough for two lounge chairs.

  I opened the doors wide and stepped outside. The chill of the first day of October hit me, and I wrapped my arms around me for warmth. Below me, I could hear the other party guests mingling outside. The Levitt’s had set up heaters on their back deck so many guests were taking advantage of the ocean view. I leaned out over the balcony but stopped when I heard the door to Summer’s room open. My breath caught in my throat for a moment. I walked back into the room, surprising Beckett when I did. He looked up startled from where he stood in front of Summer’s vanity.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said curtly. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here. Katie said she left her lip gloss in here and asked me to get it for her.” It was the first time he’d acknowledge me in six weeks.

  “Actually,” I said. “It’s not in here.”

  Beckett looked at me, his expression puzzled. “Then why did she say it was?”

  “I sort of asked her to help me with something,” I said quietly.

  Realization dawned on his face and his expression went from neutral to cold to hard. “I see,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion, just like it had been when we’d talked in my mom’s kitchen.

  “I just need to talk to you for a minute,” I said urgently, as he was turning to leave the room. I needed to stop him.

  “Do we really have anything to talk about?” he asked coldly, turning to look at me.

  “I have some things I need to say – if you’ll listen.”

  “I should probably get back out to the party,” he said, gesturing to the door. “I don’t want to leave my girlfriend.”

  The word girlfriend burned like acid in my ears. I swallowed hard and nodded. “This will only take a minute,” I said quickly.

  I crossed the room, so I could stand in front of him.

  “I love you, and I want us to be together,” I said to him, keeping it simple. I watched his face for signs of change, but he maintained his stoic expression.

  “Are you serious?” he asked finally.

  I nodded, as hope swelled inside me. “Yes.”

  He shook his head and laughed a humorless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Beckett,” I said, taking his hands in mine and spilling out everything I felt. It all came out in a torrent of words that said exactly what I wanted him to know. “I love you, and I want to be with you. Ryan was never right for me. You’re the one I want. It’s you. It’s always been you. You were right. I made a mistake, but I know that now, and all I want to do is be with you. I want to spend my life with you.” I took a deep breath, waiting for his response.

  He let go of my hands and took a step back. “What the fuck, Courtney?” he yelled, closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair, as he stepped back from me further. He looked like he was holding back from saying anything else.

  His tone startled me. I held my breath while I waited for him to continue.

  When he did, what he said sent me reeling. “No,” he said looking directly at me. “I’m sorry, Courtney, but I can’t do this.”

  I blinked a few times, trying to process what he had said. This was exactly what I’d been afraid he would say, but I never actually thought he would say it when I’d played out this scene in my mind. In my romantic comedy soaked brain, he took me in his arms, told me he loved me and we lived happily ever after. That was not what was unfolding in front of me in this moment.

  “Why?” I asked then, needing an answer, but I was pretty sure I already had one.

  “I – I can’t – I can’t do this,” he stammered, backing away toward the door.

  “Beckett, please,” I said, tears springing to my eyes. “We love each other. This is what you said you wanted.”

  He closed his eyes. “It was what I wanted.”

  “Was?”

  “Yeah,” he said begrudgingly. “It was, but not anymore.”

  “Why?” I asked, my voice cracking. I knew the tears were coming, but I didn’t care.

  “Courtney, please. Just leave me alone. I can’t do this with you. I can’t do it.”

  “Beckett, why?”

  “Because, I can’t get hurt again!” he yelled, shuddering slightly.

  I jumped back in surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as he backed all the way to the door, put his hand on the knob and turned it. “I can’t do this.”

  Then he was gone.

  Thirty-Four

  I sat down on Summer’s bed as the numbness started to spread over me. It was over. It was really over. He’d turned me down. We were done, and I didn’t know what I would do. I had never felt so devastated in my entire life.

  I sat in Summer’s room for the next half hour trying to process what had happened as the tears fell down my cheeks. All I wanted was to go home, but I knew Summer needed me to be there for her, and I would be a good friend.

  When I rejoined the party, Summer’s Dad was asking everyone to be quiet for a few moments before he asked Summer and Patrick to join him. When they did, he spoke for a few minutes about their relationship, how special Summer was and how he knew Patrick would take care of her for the rest of their lives.

  I stole a glance at Beckett. He was watching as Mr. Levitt spoke about how he knew Summer and Patrick would be happy together. I couldn’t read his expression. His face was enigmatic as he watched Summer and Patrick smiling at each other. I turned my gaze away before he saw me. I needed to stop torturing myself.

  As soon as Mr. Levitt raised his glass to the happy couple, Mr. Ryland, Patrick’s father, wanted to make a toast, and then Beckett decided to take the microphone. It was painful to watch him smiling and joking about how he never thought Patrick would be able to not only land, but keep Summer and convince her to marry him. He had everyone laughing when he asked if Patrick had kept Summer drugged for the past six years. Halfway through his toast, I realized that as the maid-of-honor, I would have to say something. That meant, not only getting up in front of everyone and holding my tears back as I spoke about how happy I was for Summer, but it also meant taking the microphone from Beckett.

  I closed my eyes for a seco
nd before I started to make my way to the front of the room. Beckett was just raising his glass and asking everyone to do the same. He tipped his beer back and when his head was level again, I was standing in front of him. He kept his expression flat as he looked at me. I held my hand out to indicate that I wanted the microphone. He handed it to me without pause, and then stepped back, so I could take center stage, as I plastered a smile on my face and turned to face the crowd. Beckett stepped to my right.

  “I remember the first time I found out Summer was dating Patrick,” I said, concentrating on keeping my tone light. “I was floored, especially since Patrick had done nothing but talk about Summer for two years. I think he figured I’d have pull as her best friend, but I didn’t.”

  I tipped my glass toward Patrick who was laughing. “I didn’t talk about her all the time,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. Laughs erupted around the room.

  “You did, buddy,” I said. “Anyway, Summer and Patrick are two people I would never have put together at the time, and I was sure it wouldn’t last. I kept waiting for her to end it, but she never did. It wasn’t until one night during our freshman year in college when I saw Summer’s face when Patrick walked into our apartment. We were having one of our famous parties, and as usual, there were five gorgeous guys all trying to talk to Summer. I watched as her eyes darted to the front door every few seconds. She didn’t seem interested in any of the guys, but they were persistent. The moment that Patrick walked in, it was like no one existed but him. She cut one of the guys off in mid-sentence, walked over to Patrick, threw her arms around him and kissed him right there. It was then that I realized how in love with him she was. She never had eyes for anyone else, but him. I have never in my life seen two people more in love than the two of you.”

  My eyes darted to Beckett as I said that last sentence. He was looking at me and saw my eyes on him, so I quickly looked away. “You two are perfect together,” I continued. “I love you both and wish you all the best in life and love. And, Patrick,” I smiled at him, “as Summer’s best friend, you should know that I will come after you if you ever love her any less than you do today, because she is an amazing person and deserves nothing less than to be happy and loved and treated like the princess she is. Cheers.”

  I raised my glass, as I looked over at Summer and Patrick. He was laughing at my threat, and she was crying. She threw her arms around me, knocking me back slightly.

  “I love you, Court,” she gushed.

  “I love you, too,” I said, crying with her. Regardless of my own love life, I was happy for Summer, and I was lucky to have her as my friend.

  I mingled for the next hour, as much as I could, but as time moved forward, the happy blip I’d experienced when giving my toast had dissipated. I was feeling withdrawn and sad again. Katie provided a little comic relief as we hung out by the bar, drinking and talking until her husband Dave pulled her away to dance. She tried to drag me out to the dance floor where most of the people our age were, but I wasn’t in the mood. Summer had allowed her dad to play classical music for most of the night, but as her parents’ friends started to slowly leave, she’d plugged in her iPod and turned up the volume. For me, depression and Katy Perry didn’t go so well together.

  Thankfully Beckett and Kelsey had left an hour earlier. I’d watched him say goodbye to Katie when I’d been coming back from the bathroom. I could see she was talking to him earnestly, waving her hands all around as she did when she got excited, but he’d just shook his head and left, joining Kelsey at the front door. When I’d asked Katie what they’d been talking about, she muttered something about him bailing out, and I assumed she was pissed that he’d left before the end of the party. She said something about him being a jackass, and I couldn’t help thinking the same thing, although I was hurting, so my emotions might have been a teensy bit heightened in that moment.

  When Katie and Dave took to the dance floor with Summer and Patrick, I decided to get some fresh air. I grabbed my jacket, went out to the back porch that overlooked the ocean and walked down the steps to the sand. I kicked off my heels at the bottom step, left them there and walked halfway to the water, letting the cold sand squish between my toes. A hundred feet from the house, the music was a distant beat, fading in and out with the crash of the waves on the shoreline. I took a seat on the sand, leaning back to look up at the stars. I wasn’t ready to deal with anything yet. Stifling it seemed like a much better option, so focused on the crash of the ocean, letting the dull sound fill my ears.

  I tuned out so much that I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps. It wasn’t until he was sitting next to me, that I noticed he was there. I jumped in fright when I looked over and saw him, afraid he was some crazy lunatic who was going to try to murder me. Then my heart started to pound as I realized who it was. I first wondered what he was doing there and second how he knew where I was. I slowly and cautiously made eye contact with him, maintaining my skeptical gaze the whole time. I could hardly breathe. His expression was unreadable, just like it had been all night.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked cautiously. “I thought you left?”

  “I did,” he said. “I drove back to Boston, dropped Kelsey off at her apartment, drove to mine, parked my car, got inside and took off my shoes. Then I realized that I’d been thinking about one thing since I’d left the party, and I needed to know for sure.”

  “Know what?” I asked warily.

  “I had to know if you really meant what you said.” His voice broke slightly at the end of his statement.

  I nodded, partly in shock that he was sitting there, but also because it was really how I felt. “I did,” I said. “I love you, and I want to be with you.”

  “Really?” he looked skeptical, but the cold, harshness of earlier was gone.

  “Beckett, there is nothing I want more than to be with you. So if you came here to tell me that I missed my chance, then you need to leave. I can’t hear that again. If that’s the case, then I’d just assume cut my losses now.”

  He rubbed his forehead with his hand, as if trying to process what I was saying. He looked up at me then, his eyes blazing. “Courtney, I am so angry with you right now. I know I shouldn’t be here. I told you what I wanted, and you basically wrote me off. You’ve hurt me over and over, and I can’t go through that again.”

  I couldn’t believe he was saying that. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stared at him in disbelief.

  “You talked about how you couldn’t trust me, that you were so afraid that I’d leave you again, but how can you sit there and tell me that you want to be with me when you’ve done the same thing? How can you expect me to trust that you won’t freak out and leave me again?”

  “I won’t,” I said softly, turning away from him, unable to look him in the eye.

  It was the truth, but I just wasn’t sure how I could get him to see it.

  “Ryan was never the right guy for me,” I said, changing tactics.

  “I know,” he said, and I could tell he’d known all along, even when I hadn’t.

  “See, the thing is,” I said, turning back to face him. “I never wanted to marry him, but I didn’t realize it until he was gone, and I didn’t miss him like I should have. It was you who I missed. Beck, I’m so, so sorry I hurt you. I know you have a girlfriend now, and that you probably don’t trust me, but I’m telling you that I want us.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “For a really long time, I wanted to hear that,” he said, and I realized in that moment that we weren’t going to have a happy ending. He was going to let me down easy. Something in his tone told me we would never be together again, but I didn’t say anything. It was like the fight in me was gone, and all I could do was sit there and listen as he confirmed my suspicions.

  “The summer after we broke up, after I left school and was home for the summer, I kept looking over at your house,” Beckett said, his arms looped around his knees, a focused look of concentration on
his face. “You weren’t there. You were in Amherst, but all I could think about was you. I figured I could deal with not being engaged as long as we were together, so I drove out to Amherst. I went to your apartment to see you, but you weren’t there. Summer was home. She was not very nice to me.”

  “Really?” I asked, not believing that Summer had never told me he’d stopped by.

  “We talked for a long time,” he said, “and I told her how I felt. I told her I wanted you back, but she told me to leave it alone. That it was too late, there was too much damage, and that you had moved on. I lost it. Right there on your couch. I completely lost it.”

  I swallowed hard, picturing the scene he was describing to me and wondered what I would have done had I come home to find him there.

  He took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly. “So I left. I knew it was over. I figured I would just move on, but that never happened. I couldn’t move on from you. Then, when I saw you this summer, I thought maybe this was our second chance. I figured if I could just get you to remember how great we were together, you would leave your fiancé, and I could finally be happy.” His eyes searched mine for some type of response, but I didn’t know what he wanted.

  He shook his head. “Then you just, you went and picked him, and that fucking sucked because I felt like I just wasn’t good enough. I know you’re not with him anymore, and I’m glad because he really was a dick, but I also don’t want to be the guy you go back to because you don’t want to be alone. Both Katie and Summer cornered me tonight when I was leaving and told me I’d be an idiot not to get back together with you, but I have to be honest, I’m a little hesitant after everything that went down this summer.”

  I nodded. I could understand where he was coming from. We both had trust issues.

  “The thing is, I love you,” he said with conviction. “For that reason alone, I can’t walk away. It probably makes me a complete idiot, but it’s the way I feel. I can’t help it. So I guess what I’m asking is, what are you offering, because I know my heart can’t take another lashing like it did this summer. I won’t survive it. I need you to tell me if you’re for real this time, or are you just going to run away from us again when you get scared?”