Page 3 of Game On
He clears his throat awkwardly. “This trip,” he says, and I feel as though he’s ripped my lungs from my body. “Studying at Whitland.”
“Like, the entire trip we’ve planned together?” I manage to choke out. “The whole year abroad, the road trips next summer …”
“I know, I know, it seems sudden. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. And this is what’s best for me.”
“What’s best foryou?” My voice rises in disbelief, shaking as I ask the question. “You have to be joking. Bailing on me just hours before our flight. That’s a real classy move, Jame.”
“I thought you’d understand. I just … I’d like for us both to experience this as ourselves for once, not as ‘Jamie and the future Mrs. Baker.’ I think we could use this freedom.”
“Freedom?” I pace the length of my room, each step more forceful than the last. My voice is so loud now, it’s echoing off the bare walls. “Is that what I am to you? A cage? Do not act like I forced this on you, Jamie. We’ve been planning thistogethersince the beginning.”
“No, it’s not you, it’s me. Lately I’ve been feeling like I don’t know who I am outside ofus. And I need space to figure that out. To be sure I’m not just going along with a plan because it’s what we’ve always talked about.”
The finality in his voice is unmistakable, and a wave of betrayal washes over me. I stop my pacing and clench my jawso tightly that the muscles twitch. The phone is pressed hard against my ear, each word from him amplifying the pounding inside my head.
“So, all our plans, our entire fucking future, mean nothing now?”
“They do, but this is important to me,” he says. “Maybe when I figure things out, we can reconnect.”
Molly’s hand lands on my shoulder but I shrug it off, my focus solely on Jamie’s voice playing on a funhouse loop inside my head.
“This is cowardly. You’re dropping this on me now when it’s too late to change anything. If you’ve been thinking about this for a while, then you’ve had months to say something. Anything. And as for reconnecting, there’s no shot of that. You’ve made your bed with this decision. You’ll have to lie in it.”
There’s a pause, a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” I laugh bitterly. “You’ve done a pretty stellar job of that now.”
“It’s a year, baby. And after that, we can reassess.”
The words are there, on the tip of my tongue—pleas, arguments, bargaining. But, as I take in what he’s telling me, something inside me shifts. Maybe this is a sign, a push towards a new beginning that’s wholly mine.
I take a deep breath and steady my voice. “Fine, Jame. If that’s what you want. Go find yourself. Fuck a few willing classmates. Because that’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? You want to be single. To live it up in America. Well, don’texpect me to be there waiting when you finally find out who you are.”
“Hey, that’s not—”
I cut him off, a sudden surge of strength coursing through me. “Goodbye, Jamie.”
Ending the call, I stand there, phone in hand, a cocktail of emotions whirling inside me—anger, betrayal, but also a strange sense of liberation. I blink rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. My hand trembles as I set the phone down on the desk with more care than necessary.
Olivia and Molly rush to my side, their faces filled with concern. “What a fucking bellend,” Molly spits out.
Olivia wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
“You don’t need him,” Molly adds. “You never did.”
Leaning into their support, I allow myself a moment to feel everything. There’s hurt, there’s shock, there’s a nascent flicker of dread for what lies ahead. I sink onto the edge of my bed, my legs too weak to carry me. My head’s in my hands, fingers threading through my hair as I work to process it all.
“Yeah, well, screw him,” I say, looking up. I swipe my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I’m still going to make this year count for something.”
“You don’t have to put on a brave face for us, you know?” Olivia says softly. “You can let it all out. Cry on our shoulders if you’d like.”
“No, everything’s going to be fine. With or without him.”
“That’s right,” Molly says. “Jamie Baker doesn’t deserve your tears.”
With a weak nod, I wipe the last lonely tear from mycheek, swallowing down the disappointment, the sheer pain of this loss. If I allow myself to feel it all, this entire experience will be ruined before it begins.
And I refuse to let that happen. This ismyfuture. Mine, and mine alone.
