Page 8 of Four Simple Rules
From then on out, Blake and I wrote secret letters. Tulip and J.
I slump in the dirt, leaning against our tree with a heavy heart and shaking off our shaky past. The cylinder feels like a concrete block resting in my hands or a guillotine hanging above my head—a death sentence. The noiseless forest surrounds me when I tear open the cylinder. I suck in a breath when a note tumbles into the dirt, filled to the brim with her messy chicken scratch.
Dear Jesse,
You're in our secret spot. The tree we gathered under on our worst days. Our names are carved in the bark. Our memories live in the leaves. And the hole you found this in is our tradition.
Our words, Jesse. The tiny letters we've strung together, spilling our secrets. I know you like the back of my hand. Or…I thought I did…
I suck in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut. Pain erodes at my beating heart, chipping off tiny pieces. Word by word, I'm breaking in half. But I can't stop reading now. No matter what, I'll find my Blake.
We've been through a lot together. Gavin. Your father. My mom… And now… I'm leaving, Jesse. I love you… I wish the best for you. But I can't stand back and feel…invisible.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes. The letter crashes to the forest floor. Dirt sprinkles on top of it as I weep for the friend I lost. The girl I let go. The woman I… Frantically, I wipe the lined paper off and stare at her last words.
By the time you read this, J., I'll be on a plane. You had your secrets. Well, I had mine, too. Please respect my wishes and don't come looking for me. You won't find me. Not until I’m ready.
Love, Your Tulip.
PS. Please put a tulip on Gavin's grave for me. I kissed his stone one last time.
PPS. My window will forever be your entry to sanctuary. If I can't help protect you myself, then my room is yours.
She's gone. Vanished. Like the ghost I made her out to be.
I did this. Me. I ran her out of town like that other girl. Only this girl holds my heart in her hands. She was mine. Was. Fuck. Now she's gone forever.
"I'm sorry, bro," I wheeze, staring between the waving leaves hanging from the branches above. "I promised you I'd always take care of her. I thought… I thought I was doing right by her. I swear," I choke out, holding her last words close to my heart. "And yet, I've failed again. Just like my father says I will."
A failure. That's what I am. I've failed my mother by not being able to protect her enough, I failed Gavin by not being there for Blake when she needed me most, and I failed myself by not being the man I wanted to be.
Only a few more months until I graduate. Only a few more months until I head to college on my baseball scholarship.
"I'll let you run now, Tulip. But make no mistake, I'll find you again, and then I'll never let you go. I'll prove to you that I'm the man you need. One day."
Ten Years Later
When it rains, it pours. Or, in my case, everything falls apart.
“I don’t think this is working out anymore. I can’t do this.”
My brain short circuits at his muttered words. In the famous words of my girl Aubrey–Acascuse me? Did I just hear what I think I heard? Maybe I have water in my dang ears.
The restaurant falls silent around me. Every eye turns toward us, watching the crap show about to rain down.
Or that’s how it feels when my face heats.
Quickly, I dart my gaze around, breathing deeply when no one seems to pay attention to us—the couple in the middle of the crowded restaurant on a date to celebrate their one-year anniversary.
My heart pounds in my chest, making my head spin. The amazing barbecue burger resting in my stomach threatens to come back up and spill on the floor. Is this happening right now? Or did I hear my boyfriend incorrectly?
“Can’t do this?” I ask, blinking rapidly from across the dinner table as my boyfriend sips his beer. “Can’t do what?”
That burger? That haircut? The hideous gym shirt he wore to our dinner? Because there are many things he can’t do, and I had better not be one of them.
“Yeah, babe. I’m sorry. I’ve realized that I’m just not boyfriend material,” he says nonchalantly, shoving his pub burger down his gullet with a groan.
I flounder, rearing back. Not boyfriend material? Am I on some shitty reality TV show? Is some host about to jump out and laugh at my stunned reaction? This can’t be freaking happening!
