Page 88 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

All I’d wanted Nick to do was choose me, but to convince him, I’d laid out all the reasons I didn’t think he would. I’d loaded him with ammunition then acted surprised when he shot it back at me. Now I was in an eternal state of tumbling backward from the impact, unable to get my feet beneath me.

I knew it was crazy after only a week, but I felt like I could handle everything else if I just had Nick with me. Grounding me. Asking me pointed questions about my plans and my experience. Questions that made me defensive, then made me think. He was a straight and sturdy axis that I could spin around, free but tethered. It was the first time being tethered had felt safe instead of suffocating.

“I just don’t know if it was ever what I thought it was,” I whispered.

Meri leaned forward and pushed my hair off of my face, her voice soft and coaxing. “What did you think it was?”

Love.I wanted to shake myself at the absurdity, but it was my best guess as to what that felt like. Nick was good-hearted, supportive, deep. He was so sweet in a way most people might miss at first glance. And he was funny and charming for the people he decided to let in. And he had let me in. I wanted to wrap myself in him like a blanket and stay warm forever.

“I thought we had something, I don’t know,epic, but I asked him to come here with me and you would have thought I’d asked him to lop off a finger. He didn’t even consider it.”

Remembering his look of utter disbelief made my stomach turn.

“And then what?”

“I told him I’d go there, to Philly. He said it wasn’t a good time.” I winced with embarrassment. “And then I ran away. Literally.”

Meri’s eyes narrowed. “Have you heard from him since?”

I pulled out my phone and showed her the text he’d sent me last night.I miss you.

I’d broken into an ugly, gulping sob when I read it. Now I ran my finger over the screen, my chest aching. “I didn’t answer him.”

Meri threw herself backward on the couch with a theatrical groan. I’d always said the two of us would have made an amazing acting duo. Like Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen inWhite Christmas. She’d be Rosemary, obviously. She had the judgy eyes down pat.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You asked him to move to Boston, where by the way you don’t even have a place to live, after you’d known each other for a week, and he said no, and so you think this means he doesn’t care about you?”

Yes, Mer. It was a test.Shame on me, maybe, but he failed. “He said he didn’t want me there either.”

She pointed to my phone. “Did he? Or did he say it wasn’t a good time?”

To be fair, I was already in a spiral when he said it, so I couldn’t answer that truthfully. The end result was the same, though. He was there and I was here. One text and a selfie from the waterfall to remember it all by.

I buried my head further into her couch. “I do this, Mer. I fall in love with people, things, ideas. But they never fall in love with me back.” I wiped at my cheeks and looked at her. We both whispered, “The mailman.”

“It’s not always that harmless, though. I did this with Sean too, and I almost bound us together for life.”

She gave me that look she saved specifically for when I spoke Sean’s name. It was kind of like she’d just smelled a rotten egg. “Those two things arenotthe same, Brit.”

It felt the same. Me writing fairy tales in my head about someone else’s intentions.

“My dad wants me to go to the Saint Mary’s gala,” I told her. “Sean will be there, at our table. He said it would be best if things looked the way they had in years past.”

That finally cracked Meri’s diplomat act. “Oh, fuck that,” she said.

The surprise of hearing an F-bomb flying out of my perfectly poised friend’s mouth startled me and I actually stopped sobbing.

“I don’t have a choice.”

She gave me a look. “You do.”

God, this conversation sounded familiar and it was making me squirm.

“He insinuated I might be able to have the money back if I did it.”

“It’s not worth it!” She set her teacup down and threw her hands in the air. “Sean is an egotistical asshole who purposely tore you down bit by bit for years, and you’ve been carrying around this picture of yourself that he drew ever since. As if it’s the only one. As if it’s even remotely accurate. Sean told you who he wanted you to be because it was the most convenient version of you for him, Brit. He told you that you weren’t good enough and then he used you. He doesn’t deserve to ever see your face again.”

“He’s not the only person who thinks that.”

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