Page 66 of It Couldn't Be You
“I care,” he said. “I care a lot.”
I shimmied my knees against his and said, “I know.” I looked at his fingers. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could transfer some of his bravery to me, right here, right now, through his touch?
I made the right choices that year. I chose the same school as Katie because it was the choice that made me happy, not just because it was an option that made me feel safe. The journalism classes and the internships made me buzz. I was happy and grateful to live with the choices I’d made.
Now here I was, years later, out of school and still having to make choices that determined my future. It wasn’t a one-and-done situation. I didn’t decide on journalism, and then a job and future unfolded perfectly before me. Life was a constant step by step up a never-ending staircase, and as much as I wanted a break, or for someone to please carry me up a few of these flights…These steps were mine to take. I might stumble, pause, and go backward or skip a few, but I’d keep going along.
For now, looking from my balcony, it was not a bad view.
Twenty-Three
Mom
Happy valentine’s day, sweetie!! You know mama always loves you xoxo
It was early morning on February 14. I woke up to cloudy gray skies peeking through the curtains over my window, my thick white duvet heavy over me. Aside from a little Valentine’s assignment helping Terrence out, I had a blank date on the calendar before me.
February 14 and not much to do. Katie and I had the day off work. Rose wanted to be in the shop, and she had some family helping her. They had decorated the shop festively and made special Valentine-themed treats.
Still in bed, I turned to my side and opened my phone to see my Google memories for the day. Photos from the past couple of Valentine’s Days slid by on my photo album carousel.
Jordan and I were grinning over two big bowls of pasta, a tiny silver heart dangled from a chain, a gift from him that day. Another photo, this time it was Jordan and me at a concert, a gift from me to him. Another photo from the same day, one of him kissing my cheek.
I’m just somewhere so different than I’ve been the past couple of years, I thought to myself.
There was another photo with a big brunch with girlfriends in college. Photos flipped by of us drinking milkshakes outside the movie theater.
Then there was another photo from when I was nineteen. Gabriel, Katie, Logan, and me with big smiles over big burgers. Another one from that day where I’m on Gabriel’s back, and Katie and Logan are holding up peace signs. I had forgotten that there had even been a Logan in Katie’s life—not quite a boyfriend, but he had really tried.
That Valentine’s Day, Katie and I had spur of the moment booked a flight to see Gabriel and cheer him up after he had a really rough week with one of his classes. His roommate, Logan, had an undying crush on Katie, and he had been texting and calling for a while. It was a little flame that flickered out after this trip.
I zoomed in on the photo, pausing the slideshow. I remembered how Gabriel nearly started crying when he spotted Katie and me running up to him on the campus lawn. He’d said, “My girls,” when he hugged us.
We spent an exhausting, sweet, fast, fun twenty-four hours getting a little tour of his campus life.
I remembered realizing that Gabriel had a whole world that didn’t include me. Friends, classes, a job, girls who said “Hi” and knew him from English Club. I wondered if I ever even popped into his mind, with us being so very far apart.
I had started building my very own separate life, too. It was my freshman year of college, and I had my own campus, my own friends. A life where I never heard the name Gabriel come up, but I still thought it all the time. He didn’t need to be woven into my classes and campus. He was embedded into my brain like a favorite song.
I comforted myself by noticing how easily I fit walking by his side, meeting his friends and professors, and how conversation about our classes and new jobs felt effortless. We were growing up and seeming to fit even better. We were both college students mapping out our adult lives, the playing field more even. What we had in common was ever expanding.
“She’s cute, Gabe,” a friend of his, Chelsie, had said in a hushed tone when I had turned my back for a second in the cafeteria, assuming I was more than whatever I was.
He just “ahemed,” not correcting her or denying anything between us.Did “ahem” mean he agreed?My cheeks had flushed as I pretended not to overhear anything.
This morning, years later, I threw my phone to the other side of the bed. Literal years had passed, and I was still pretending with Gabriel.
Terrence had emailed me a week ago and asked if I wasn’t too busy on Valentine’s Day—I laughed when I read that—if I could come up with a way to get Katie to a special surprise location. The location was a lake about an hour outside of Sweet River, where Terrence had rented a boat for the two of them and made reservations at a restaurant by the water. Katie didn’t have any idea about Terrence’s Valentine’s plans. She had actually been mopey and sad that they were—to her knowledge—apart today. She thought she was stuck spending the day with me.
I had been doing my makeup and drinking my coffee when she called.
“Hi, friend,” I said, putting the phone on speaker.
“Hey,” she said, sounding a little down.
“How are you doing?” I said, putting the finishing touches on my eyeliner.
“I’m feeling like a bad girlfriend.”
