Page 114 of Kissing is the Easy Part
There’s nothing special left between us. And that, to be written off entirely from his life, hurts more than anything.
My friends try to be supportive, even though they don’t really understand why I had to let him go. They now talk about Sean like he’s some priceless piece of art at Sotheby’s that I’ve been outbid on. Madison even goes so far as to saySean’s not the worst(although she immediately follows up with,but I’ll hate him if you tell me to), while Josie encourages me to focus on myself. As for Sean’s friends, Dylan quite bluntly stopped me one day before I could get to Sean and said,Look, it’s nobody’s fault, but the breakup wrecked him twice already. Can’t you give our boy some space?Whenever I pass their table at lunch, I sense a wave of hostility, and the laugh that used to live in Jake’s eyes isn’t there anymore. It’s probably all in my head, but I no longer feel comfortable enough to pull out a chair and join them.
Raymond calls one morning, waltzing right back into my life. “You need something fun to cheer you up. I’ll take you out.”
I make him promise to steer clear of anywhere that might remind me of Sean, so naturally, he takes me to an amusement park (after grumbling about standing in line with plebeians). When I get off one of the rides, the person in front of us turns and a strand of dark hair falls across his forehead. It’s Sean’s hair.
Raymond makes his trademark disgruntled noise. “You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because if you do, I’m not the guy for that. I’m terrible at comforting people.”
I turn my face away. “No.”
“Good. I bet you’re ugly when you cry.”
Expecting anything sweet to come out of Ray’s mouth would be pure naivety. If this was Sean, he’d be so flustered. “I miss him.” My mood plummets faster than a roller coaster.
“Look, we can go home right now if you want.”
“But we just got here.”
He shrugs. “The whole point of coming here is to get your mind off him, but I see it’s not happening. Let’s go.”
We’re at the far end of the park, so we end up hopping on the tour train, which takes forever to reach the entrance. It’s packed and the seats are stiff, so, predicably, Raymond complains the entire time. He makes crude observations about the man sitting in front of us and his smelly feet (he strongly suspects they are), tells me every joke he can think of, and even though he’s not as hilarious as memory serves, the effort counts.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, since it’s a long ride, with stops at all the major attractions. “Are you pretending to be my friend so you can swoop in and catch me at a vulnerable moment?”
He snorts, chips in hand, crumbs falling all over himself. There’s never been a single ounce of sexual tension between us, but better to make sure.
“I’d feel so betrayed if you had a secret crush on me.”
“Pfft. I don’t. You know what they say—if you sleep with everyone, sooner or later you end up with no one to go to amusement parks with.”
The train stops, and the man with the alleged smelly feet stands up, swaying. Raymond jumps out of his seat to grab his elbow. “Careful there. This thing doesn’t come to a full stop. Have a good one!”
When he sits back down, he rolls his eyes. “I can finally breathe again.”
Sean never makes fun of other people like that. I love that about him, but he won’t offer help either. He’s a bystander, mostly hanging back unless something directly affects his inner circle. It’s part of his elegant charm, but it’s not the only valid way to move through the world. While Raymond can be insincere at times, he doesn’t hesitate to offer a simple act of kindness.
Sean also misjudged my friendship with Raymond. He’s not always right.
Maybe Sean isn’t perfect?
It’s the first time I’ve really let that thought land. For so long, I convinced myself I was the only problem, that I had to be easier, quieter, andbetter. I backed away from conflict because I wanted his love too much. I avoided the big arguments but pestered him incessantly about small things like how often he texted. I never invited the real conversations, and I guess he didn’t either.
The train lurches to another stop. Ray offers me the last chip, then pops it in his mouth without waiting for a reply. “You miss him. I get it,” he says, reading my mind. “But don’t sell yourself short like you’re the sole villain. You’re notthatpowerful. Pretty sure it takes more than one confused teenager to destroy the most iconic love story of our time.”
I nod. It’s hard not to carry all the blame, but maybe I can cut myself some slack. Maybe growth means not overcompensating and recognizing that Sean is still figuring things out too.
“And hey, at least now you can stop pretending to agree that Pepsi is the best drink on earth.”
I laugh. A light jab at Sean without reverence. “Yeah, he doesn’t just think Pepsi is okay—it’s his top choice.”
Ray grimaces. “You people havesomuch to learn.”
* * *
Carmen pours two glasses of sweet tea and slides one across the counter. “Are you feeling better?”
“Not really.” With my straw, I stab at the bottom of the glass where a clump of sugar has yet to disintegrate. “Everything is pointless.”
