Nerdy Little Secret

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Nerdy Little Secret Page 17

by Aarons, Carrie


  Dad motions for me to get his water, and I put the straw in his mouth. He takes a long chug, and his eyes don’t leave mine. When he releases the straw, I put it back on the table, and he takes a ragged, deep breath.

  “I want … to tell … you … something, son.” He says the words, but they’re jumbled and it takes him a while to get them out.

  My initial reaction is to lay a hand on his arm, to tell him to stop, don’t strain himself. But he looks so serious, so determined, that I hold off. Plus, I haven’t heard his voice, no matter how slurred, in too long.

  “Love is ev … everything. Fuck work …” He takes a long, deep breath, and I have to chuckle because I don’t think I’ve heard him curse in years. “Fuck cures. All … that mat- matters is that person … beside you.”

  I want to argue with him, show him that all I’m doing, when keeping my nose to the grindstone, is for him. But he shakes his head the slightest bit.

  “Get … her b-back. At … all costs.” He lets out a wheezing, heavy breath.

  He’s done speaking, and I let that sink in a moment. Here he is, slowly losing his life, but all he cares about is that I have someone like Mom by my side in the long run. The thing is, I’ve been thinking the same thing myself. Because while my life used to revolve around theories, test scores, grades, and education, the only thing occupying my mind is Jolie.

  I see her face every time I go to sleep, and every time I wake up. The word love runs through my mind a thousand times a day, and it burns me up inside that I didn’t tell her.

  I’m not sure how I’m going to make it right, but if this is the piece of advice Dad is taking his painstaking time to give, then I’ll follow it.

  One way or another, I have to get her back.

  37

  Jolie

  Even though I was glad to go home for the holidays, I’m even more happy to be back at school.

  As I drive through campus on the way in, nostalgia hits me from every angle. This has been my home for three years now, and after next year, I’ll have to leave it. This is the place I realized I could grow into a person I actually wanted to be. This is the place where I could have a fresh start, where my family name didn’t have to precede me at every turn.

  With its winding path through the ivy-covered buildings and the whip of wind through the leaves on the ground, I open my windows and inhale deeply. A calmness that hasn’t occupied my soul in nearly a month washes over me, and I have a feeling everything is going to be okay.

  Especially since I’m a Salem Walsh University undergrad, officially, once again. Dean Wassak sent me an email over break that my finals scores were good enough to allow my enrollment back on campus, and I couldn’t be happier. With that ugliness behind me, I can finally start acting the way I should have before any of it even happened.

  I’m glad it did, though. It taught me some invaluable lessons, and I met Mick along the way.

  We didn’t speak for the entire four weeks of winter break, and it gave me time to clear my head. While I don’t regret a second of what happened between us, aside from that blowout fight at the end, I do realize now that we moved extremely fast. As is normal in a college relationship, because you have access to each other twenty-four seven, we got too wrapped up in each other. He was choosing me over things that really mattered to him, and I was falling in love without looking first.

  It’s probably for the best if we cool off, if I focus on my studies and nabbing an internship for the summer.

  Turning my car down the street that leads to our little ranch off campus, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the driveway empty. I wanted to be the first one back, to gather my wits before Christine and Madison got there. We’ve texted a few times over break, mostly to just apologize and clear the air, but this will be the first real face-to-face moment.

  After I park in the spot I always take in our driveway, I begin to unload my car. Who the hell knows how I could possibly need more stuff packed into my tiny college room, but I brought back enough to clothe and feed an army.

  I’m lugging a box up and into my room when Christine appears around the corner. We look at each for a moment and then walk quickly toward each other. I throw my arms around her, and she does the same.

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobs.

  “I am, too.” I sniffle into her hair.

  We hug each other hard, and I know right then and there that we’re going to be just fine.

  “I was an asshole, pushing you like that when you’d just gone through a breakup. I should have comforted you, given you ice cream, let you cry it out over a sappy episode of One Tree Hill,” she explains, pulling back.

  I shake my head. “No, no, I should have told you guys from the start. You’re my best friends. I was just terrified of what you would think. And I didn’t want to be judged, I just wanted to do my time and then get back to living my regular life. The more people who know, the more real it made it. And I should have told you what was happening with Mick, I was such a bitch.”

  “No, that all makes perfect sense. You’re okay now though, right? I mean, you’re back?”

  “Officially a Salem Walsh student once again.” I grin, and we high five.

  Just then, Madison walks in carrying a forty-eight pack of toilet paper. “What’s going on in here?”

  “We’re having makeup sex,” I deadpan.

  “No fair, I’m horny, too!” She drops the toilet paper and bounds over to us, grappling us into a tight group hug.

  I breathe them in, getting emotional. “I missed you guys. I’m really sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry, too,” Madison sobs. “Let’s never fight again?”

  “Never.” Christine swears, and then backs up. “All right, enough. We’re acting like sappy sorority girls.”

  I crack up along with Maddy, and it’s really nice to have my two friends back.

  My mood is infinitely improved after we all have a “welcome back” glass of wine together, and we promise to meet up in the living room to watch the latest episode of some cheesy Netflix show after we all unpack.

  So I’m not expecting it in the least when Madison comes to my room and tells me there was a knock at the door … for me.

  I give her a puzzled look, but she just scurries off. So I head for our front door, and when I spot who it is through the glass, my heart drops.

  Mick stands on our front porch, looking as devastating as he ever has. Did he grow a beard over Christmas? God, I hate that I almost go weak at the knees.

  Slowly, I open the door, trying to keep my face neutral. For four weeks, I’ve cried and sulked over this guy. I’ve thought about him endlessly, and this is exactly what I’ve wanted to happen. I wanted him to come crawling back, though I’m not sure that’s exactly what he’s doing. And now that he’s here, my heart is beating on overdrive. But I forgot all the things I’d planned to say.

  “Can we talk?” Mick ducks his head, and his eyes are apologetic.

  I nod, scared out of my mind for what’s to come, but knowing that there is another talk that needs to be had today.

  It’s just that this conversation is the hardest one I’ll probably ever have, and it could break my heart irreparably.

  38

  Mick

  When I decided to show up at her house, hoping she’d have gotten back to campus already, I didn’t know if Jolie would agree to talk to me.

  But I made Dad a promise, that I’d try at all costs to get her back, and that’s what I’m doing. I want to show Jolie that she’s the first thing I thought of when I got back to campus. I want to tell her she’s the only thing I’ve thought of since the day I stormed out of her house.

  We walk in silence just a little ways down from her house, where there is a small playground with some park benches. I’ve seen this park once or twice and always thought it was odd because why would a street full of rundown college houses require a children’s playground? But I guess if there is someone mature who lives in the vicinity, they
need a place to take their kids. Hopefully, it’s just not littered with beer cans, or condoms.

  I take a seat on one of the benches, and Jolie sits too, but keeps a healthy distance between us. Man, she looks as stunning as ever. Her skin, though it’s the middle of winter, looks sun-kissed, and she’s fresh-faced. I love her best like this, when I can see the natural curve of her lashes against her cheeks, and the slight blush her cheeks naturally carry. She’s gorgeous and raw, and I wish I could hold her.

  But I don’t reach out, because I know better. I can’t mess this up. We’ve fallen into the mistake of going right to the physical too many times before. This time, there needs to be words before action.

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk to me.” I try to maintain eye contact with her, but it’s hard.

  My heart is sprinting a lopsided race. It feels like a horse at the Kentucky Derby on its last leg. I want to get to the end, to make it whole and nab a victory, but I know I have to go through the pain first.

  “I’ve been wanting to reach out, it just felt …” She stops herself from saying whatever it is that she was going to.

  I nod, like I’ve filled in those words. “First off, I need to say how sorry I am. I was so out of line, the way I spoke to you. Those words were ugly and not true at all. They were said in the heat of my anger, and that is no excuse, and I’m just so sorry, Jolie. I burn with shame every time I think of the things I said to you.”

  Her mocha orbs meet mine, and thankfully I don’t detect any malice in them. “Thank you for that. Honestly, they really hurt, those words. I confided in you, told you how much of those were insecurities of mine. It felt like you were personally tearing down everything I’ve tried not to be. I’ve been trying really hard this year to right the wrongs I’ve committed, and to have you, someone I really care about …”

  Jolie breaks off, as if her explanation is too emotional for her to continue.

  I jump on the empty air. “And I swear, I didn’t mean a single word. I snapped, with all of the things on my back, and I took it out on you. You’re the one person who knows everything about me, and I used it as a weapon against you. I’m so sorry, Jolie.”

  She tilts her head to the side, lost in thought. After what feels like a year, she speaks.

  “I get it, I really do. I can’t begin to imagine the stress you feel on a daily basis. I understand why being late set you off like that. I wasn’t right that morning either. I shouldn’t have brushed off your feelings, and probably should have listened to you the night before when you said you didn’t want to go out.”

  “None of this is on you.” I shake my head. “It took me about three seconds to come to that realization. And then it took my dad knocking some sense into me to realize this. That I … I’m in love with you, Jolie. I’ve thought of nothing else since I left your house that day, and even more when I went home for break. I love everything about you. I love that you break me out of my comfort zone, that we’re so different and you don’t seem to care at all. I love the way you don’t let what other people think about you affect you, and your individualism inspires me. You’re so bright and whip-smart, two things that you sometimes hide in favor of blending in. I love that I get to see you in your most natural state, and that I could be the only one to make you smile in the morning—even if you haven’t had your coffee. I know I have so much to apologize for, but I can’t go another minute without telling you how in love with you I am. As my dad says, it’s all that matters. None of this other stuff means one thing if I don’t have it with you by my side.”

  I had no idea I would take that moment to blurt out all of my feelings, but there it is. Once I thought it, it all tumbled out, and I’m glad it did. She needs to know how I feel, even if this is our last conversation.

  The gorgeous woman in front of me, my girl once upon a time, looks like I’ve just dropped an atomic bomb right in front of her. She couldn’t look more shocked if there were an alien standing in front of her telling her that it was from the year three thousand and twenty-five.

  “Mick … I …” Her long, vanilla-scented locks whip in the wind as she looks down into her lap. “I feel like I’ve waited for a while to hear something like that. And it’s so … I can’t even form words.”

  I give her a minute to collect her thoughts, but inside, I’m panicking. My heart is in flux, and every nerve ending in my body is spazzing out.

  “I had a lot of time to think about this over break, and I really do forgive you. What we had was special, and it was the most important relationship I’ve probably ever had. But … maybe we were right in the beginning, especially you. You have a lot on your plate, and we are very different people. I think things went too quickly, and you have so many important goals and dreams that I don’t want you to lose focus on. I don’t mean any of this in a bad way, and I really appreciate everything you’ve said, it means more than you know. I think for right now we should pump the breaks a little. I’m fully back at Salem Walsh, so we can see each other freely. You have so much coming up with the internship, I’m sure, and I need to focus on landing one for the summer.”

  She’s forgiving me, but the whole thing feels unresolved. I know that Jolie is being genuine when she says she doesn’t harbor any resentment, but it doesn’t mean she loves me back. At the end of the day, the things she’s not saying, or possibly doesn’t feel cut deeper than accepting my apology for my behavior. I told her I loved her and she isn’t going to say it back.

  Maybe I jumped the gun on professing my feelings, but like Dad said, at all costs. I laid it all out on the line, and that’s all I could do. She all but pushed it back into my hands, refusing to take the hot potato, but I didn’t wuss out and I stayed true to my feelings.

  I’m proud and heartbroken, all at the same time.

  “So, not never, but not right now.” It comes out as a statement, and I’m not sure I mean it as a question.

  Jolie shrugs. “I think we always seem to jump before we look, so let’s try it the opposite way this time. If anything, that’s one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned this year.”

  She leans in, so close that I could taste her lips if I moved my head at the right angle, and blinks slowly. I think maybe she’s about to change her mind, but at the last second she presses a lingering kiss to my cheek. Then she stands and carefully backs away, before she turns back to her house.

  I’m left on the bench alone, not sure if I should be hopeful or decimated.

  39

  Jolie

  I’ve gone over the conversation in my head a thousand times and doubted what I said triple that.

  I’m proud of me, for sticking up for myself. But was turning him down the right thing to do? Should I have told him I loved him back? I just don’t know. I’ve argued with myself too many times to count in the last two weeks, and can’t come up with the right answer.

  Madison and Christine tell me I should run back to him, confess my love and live happily ever after. I’m surprised that critical, rational Christine is agreeing with our rose-colored glasses friend, but she’s always been a Mick lover. She said I’ve been punished enough, and that I deserve my happy ending.

  Maybe that’s true, but I’ve also kind of liked spending time with myself, as a single person. I’ve always been involved with someone, whether it was a fling or more serious, and taking this break through Christmas and up until now has given me some time to really get reacquainted with myself.

  And the biggest factor of all? I’m terrified. Terrified of being rejected again, about fully opening my heart to him and him whacking it with a two-by-four, like he did before winter break. I know he said all of those beautiful things, but it doesn’t fully rub clean the wound he left when he spit all those ugly things at me. I was utterly shocked when he told me he loved me, because I never saw it coming. I’m the impulsive, emotional one. Mick is the logical, down-to-earth, sometimes distant one. It must have taken a lot for him to tell me how much he truly cares, but I’m gun-shy. I wan
t to pull the trigger, go running back to him, but I can’t seem to do it.

  I usually take my beach walks at the end of a semester, to clear my head and put me on the right path before I go back to my parent’s palatial prison. But when I woke up this morning, the ocean was calling me, and so here I am.

  My toes dig into the sand as I stroll along, with no real purpose or direction. It feels good to wander, to let the sea salt answer my questions and heal my hectic thoughts. It’s still pretty chilly, it being January, but I don’t mind. Facing the ocean, I wrap my sweater around myself and gaze out over the waves.

  The ocean has a hypnotic quality, one that sucks you in and clears your mind of all worry. For me, it’s better than meditation, which I can never do because I can’t turn my brain off.

  It’s so calming that I almost miss the motion out of the corner of my eye, but then I turn. This beach is typically empty, especially this time of year, so I’m startled to be sharing it with someone else.

  And when I catch who it is, I’m even more surprised.

  “Mick!” I say in disbelief.

  His back is turned, because I think he saw me standing here and had an “oh, shit” moment. He’s literally scurrying away like a teenage girl who just saw her crush and is too nervous to go up and talk to them. Only here, we’re the only ones on this beach and it’s extremely obvious he saw me and decided to take off in the other direction.

  I stomp after him, sand flying up behind me. “Mick, wait!”

  When I get within a good distance of him, he finally turns on his heels and stops in front of me.

  Mick holds his hands up in defense, as if I might start yelling at him. “I swear I didn’t know you were here. I just wanted to come clear my head and thought you only came here at the end of the semester. I truly didn’t—”

 

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