Page 123 of Backslide
“I remember you still slept with a stuffed animal in high school,” he says. “And I remember its name: Hairball.”
I have to admit, I’m surprised he remembers that very specific detail about my matted stuffy. “Wow,” I say. “Good memory.”
He’s right. I slept with Hairball coiled against my chest until I was way too old.
“Yeah, I have a good memory,” he says. “But I also always paid special attention to you. Like we talked about. The other day in town.”
I’m afraid of where this conversation is going and so, despite the discomfort I feel, I decide to get ahead of it. “Damien, I’ve always liked you,” I lie. “But you know I didn’t mean itthatway, right? Like, we were always friends.”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, though I see a twinge of something else pass over his face too. “I know. It never happened for us. But who knows what the future holds?”
“Well, I do,” I say. “Because the thing is, even if there was something like that between us, I couldn’t do that because…”
He sighs. Shakes his head. “Because of Noah.”
“Because of Noah,” I say. “There’s just too much history.”
He stares at me, hard. Even in the dark, his blue eyes are piercing. Unsettled, I set a hand on the railing, like it’s my escape route. Like I can’t get away fast enough.
He sees it. Sees me wanting to leave. “Or maybe it’s not just history,” he says.
“Oh, well, I mean… no. It’s just…”
“I’m not an idiot, Nellie,” he spits.
“No,” I say. “You’re not.”
We stand there considering each other for a beat. A breeze blows past carrying a new chill. And suddenly I wonder how long he’s been standing here. What, if anything, he saw.
“Cara is probably looking for me,” I say, as lightly as I can manage, and turn toward the stairs, taking them two at a time.
25BOTHBACK IN THE DAY
Noah calls. He does.
He leaves messages on her answering machine. They are brief. Because someone else might hear. But also they’re brief because he is angry too.
Nell. Call me.
Nell. Just trying you again.
Nell. We should talk. Before you leave.
He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Nell notes this as she sits on her pin-striped beanbag chair and listens to them over and over, analyzing the cadence of his voice.
When she’s not listening to “Fuck and Run” on repeat.
He knows he was wrong. He knows he acted like a scumbag. He knows he should have shown up when she reached out about the pregnancy scare, that she was frightened and alone. He knows he shouldn’t have gotten drunk and kissed some other girl, especially one Lydia served up.Of course not.
He knows he has pushed Nell away.
And she is probably the best thing that ever happened to him—or ever will happen to him.
But also, she is leaving. And she is leaving himbehind.
And actually, with each day she doesn’t call back, he feels more like she already left.
And she’s not the first person in his life to do that. Which she knows. She knows about his dad.
