Page 15 of Heartstruck at Dawn
I knew we hadn’t formalized anything yet between us, but I didn’t consider myselfavailable.Even if nobody knew about us, it’s not like I was open to dating anyone else at the moment. That’s why I thought it was weird for him to want to catalog me as such.
But it was enlightening, at least, to know he probably still went around town announcing he was single.
“What’sonly twentygot to do with you and me?” I asked, somewhat offended. “So, I’m just this—girl who needs to go out and date a bunch of random guys and ignore my feelings because I’mjust twenty, and that’s what I’m supposed to be doing?” He kept silent and refused to look at me. His gaze was set on the windshield.
I hoped that meant I had his attention.
“When have Ieverdone shit my age? You’ve known me since I was sixteen, Caleb. You used to make fun of me, of how lame my weekends were and how cute you thought that was. So now you want me to go crazy in New York so I can live a little? When we’refinallytrying to figure things out between us?”
“Exactly.”Oh no,he didn’t.
I huffed once, sharp with exasperation because he knew me. He knew that’s not what I enjoyed doing. And it’s not like I wasevergoing to be allowed togo crazy. “So? You don’t want to give us a try? Is that what you’re saying? Because I need tolivemore?”
Is he dumping me?It kind of felt like it.
“I’m scared, okay!” He finally snapped.That’s it. I needed him to explode, to allow me a glimpse inside his mind. I couldn’t deal with the frowns, the lip-pressing, and the eye-rolling anymore. I neededwords, and I needed him to throw them at me.
Right now.
“I’ve been waiting for this to happen for a while, but it doesn’t feel right. Something’s …” Caleb clutched the steering wheel and rested his forehead on it for a few seconds. “It doesn’t feel like what I thought it would be, what itshouldfeel like. I think I know the answer, but it freaks me out that you can’t see it.
“And I don’t give a shit about getting hurt. I can deal with myself. But Idon’twant to lose you. And I certainly don’t want you to end up hurt from this because I know you don’t want to lose me either.”
“And you think this is not scary for me too? I’m terrified! I know we’re gambling with our friendship to explore something beyond it. But I’mhere, and I’m willing to give it a try. So why aren’t you? Because I went on a blind date?”
“You’renot”—he laughed a low, sad laugh—“willing to give this a try. Not really. That’s the whole point of this conversation. I don’t feel like you’re onboard. And yes. All this—blind date nonsense is getting on my nerves. It’s annoying as fuck, and I wonder if you would’ve risked yourwhatever it was you had going onwith William when you came back from your lovey-dovey weekend at the Hamptons by going on a couple of blind dates because ‘you couldn’t get out of them.’”
What?
“What does William have to do withanyof this?”
He laughed again, but it was searing on exasperation this time. “I’m trying to make you see—” Caleb looked away again, taking a deep breath. He fixed his gaze on mine and carried on with a more collected tone. “I’m trying to make you see how you don’tknowwhat you want. And unfortunately, that kinda makes me doubt what I want too.”
Ouch.
The SUV’s cabin became a vacuum—an insatiable black hole sucking in all thoughts, words, and sounds. And I wanted to tell the black hole:let go of me;you’re hurting mebecause I still had thoughts to put into words, but it didn’t budge. It sucked us both right in.
And after a few minutes that lasted a lifetime of me finding myself unable to comprehend, to fathom, what was happening right now, the void scattered. My breathing became audible, and then Caleb’s. And his eyes popped up again, warm brown and faded green whipped up into irises.
And with that, I gained clarity.
Caleb’s breaking up with me.
We weren’t dating, but it still felt like a breakup, but now I was standing on the other side, getting a real taste of what rejection feels like.
And I don’t know if I found my voice or my voice found me, but I was back to articulating. “So, to recap … I’m not old enough to know what I want?” I was still making these stupid questions because I refused for the conversation to be over. Done. Like us.
“Well, do you? Know what you want?” he asked, directing his questioning gaze at me. “I don’t think it’s got anything to do with age, though.”
He was making a solid point. And I didn’t thinkknowingmattered.What about feeling? Why couldn’t that count? Be enough …
And it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t.
My ex was standing outside my apartment, demanding to talk to me. Wounds raw and open on both sides, even if at some point, I learned it was best to avoid looking at them.
And by mentioning William, my deepest, darkest secret, he made it feel like I had his name written on my forehead. He made it so unsettlingly obvious that it stung because …yes. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even if I didn’t want to. Even if it led nowhere.
A dead end.
