"You can't love a person you don't really know," she responds. "And I have to tell Maura. I'm sorry, Cal." She hangs up.
I close my eyes and run my fingers through my hair.
I know Nyelle. I know exactly who she is. But I wasn't about to get into it with Rae. I feel the same way about Nyelle as I did about Nicole most of my life. That hasn't changed. I've always been drawn to her. Every version of her. Since the day I saw her in that yellow dress. So maybe... it's time I told her.
I take a deep breath. I can't believe I'm doing this. My stomach feels like it's going to twist in on itself just thinking about it. But... she's worth it. And she needs to know it.
"Eric!" I call to him, opening my bedroom door.
"What's up?" he says, poking his head out of his room.
"Can you stay at the fraternity house tonight?"
He rolls his eyes. "Wow. Nice to see you too."
"I just need one more night. There's something I have to do," I tell him, knowing he has no clue what I'm talking about.
"Yeah, no problem."
Not knowing how long she'll be gone, I grab my jacket and the keys to my truck. "Thanks," I say over my shoulder and rush out the door.
*
I'm sitting on the couch, rubbing my sweaty hands on my pants for the hundredth time, waiting for the door to open. She's been gone for about three hours, and I'm on the verge of going to look for her. But I don't want to risk her showing up here while I'm gone. Especially after spending two hours rushing to get everything in my room ready.
I decide I might as well try Richelle again to keep me from staring at the door. I listen to the phone ring. Just as it picks up, the door opens, and I jump up from the couch, disconnecting the call.
"He's dead," Nyelle gasps as soon as her red, swollen eyes find me.
"What?!" My heart is pounding at the sight of her tear-soaked face. "Who's dead?" I rush over and wrap my arms around her. She leans against me as I kick the door shut and guide her to the couch. I ease her onto the cushion, holding her close and rubbing her back.
I coax softly, "Nyelle, who died?"
She murmurs between sobs, "Gus."
I close my eyes. The homeless man I saw her talking to in the alley the day of the snowstorm. I don't know what to say, so I just kiss the top of her head.
"I thought he was sleeping," she says, her voice muffled with her face against my chest. "But he didn't move when I said his name. He just lay there, even when I touched him. He was so... cold."
I press my lips together. I don't know how to fix this, how to make her feel better. But that always seems to be the problem.
*
"Hey, man. I lost you at Shannon's. I wanted to ask you what time you're picking me up tonight." I prop the phone under my chin and pull my keys out of the ignition. I spent the day with Brady and Craig, hopping from one graduation barbeque to the next. Rae wants nothing to do with our classmates now that we've graduated, so she opted to spend the day with her girlfriend, Nina.
"Seven," he says. "We have three graduation parties to hit tonight."
"Three?" I reply in shock.
"Yeah, I gotta go. My family just got here," Brady says before hanging up.
I pause in the driveway when I think I see a glimpse of red in the woods. I squint to focus through my glasses. There's movement farther in, near the tree house. I don't know what keeps me walking in that direction, but I do. Henley comes bounding out of nowhere, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
"Hey, boy," I say, bending to scratch his head. When I stand up, I look toward the woods again, and I can definitely see someone, but whoever's there is still too far away to make out. "C'mon, Henley. Let's see who's out there."
I wonder for a moment if it's Rae, but I know she hasn't been in these woods since we were younger. Or maybe it's one of the neighborhood kids come to check out the tree house. Considering how old it is, and that it was one of my dad's projects, it's probably not the safest idea. We should seriously take the thing down before someone does fall... again.
The last person I expect to find is Nicole. As soon as I see the red ribbon in her hair, Henley takes off running.
"Henley!" I yell instinctively. My voice turns her head in my direction, her hair falling away from her face. She's crying. I stop.
Henley sticks his nose in her face, demanding attention. She scratches his head as he licks her face, releasing a laugh within a sob. Henley settles down next to where Nicole is seated on the leaf-strewn ground, with her legs straight in front of her and her back pressed against the tree.
I slowly walk toward her, afraid to say the wrong thing. So I don't say anything. I just silently lower myself to the ground on the other side of Henley, whose head is resting on Nicole's knee as she strokes his back. Leaning against the bark, I set my hand on his golden fur as well. I watch her thin, pale hand move along his coat without looking up at her. But I can hear her sobs. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I notice the bouquet of wildflowers grasped tightly in her fist. Her arm is pressed against her stomach as if she's holding herself. Nicole's hair is a sheet of black, concealing her face, but the spasms in her back reveal each gasping sob.
Neither one of us says a word. We just sit against the tree, petting Henley. And then I feel her cool hand brush my skin, and I stop moving. She sets her hand on top of mine and curls her fingers around it. I look up, but she's not looking at me. Her focus is on the flowers.
I give her hand a gentle squeeze. I still don't know what to say, especially considering we haven't said a thing to each other in five years. I want to ask her what's wrong. I want to make her feel better, to take away whatever it is that's hurting her. But I fail to do anything at all other than hold her hand--until she releases it. She stands up and straightens her red skirt before walking way. I notice she forgot the flowers on the ground next to the tree. But I don't call to her. All I do is watch her disappear.
*
I just let her walk away without a word, and then I never saw her again. I only heard her screaming at her parents that night. And I still can't remember the details. So this is the last image I have of Nicole, until Nyelle.
I slide my hands on either side of Nyelle's face. Her eyes shine and her cheeks are red and raw from the tears. "He had a hard life. And you were one of the best things to happen to him."
I lower my mouth to hers and press against it, holding the kiss for a long breath before pulling away.
"Thank you," she whispers, resting her cheek on my chest and wrapping her arms around me tightly. "He's been waiting to go for a long time. I knew this was coming. But it still sucks." She releases a drawn breath.
"Yeah, it does," I say into her hair. I hold her until she eases away. When she looks up at me, I stroke her damp cheeks with my thumbs to dry her tears. "What can I do to make you feel better? Ice cream? Marshmallows? Chips? A hot shower in the dark?"
She laughs lightly. "I'll be okay." She stands and starts for the bedroom. I jump up. I don't want her to go in there. Not now.
"How about we go away?" I say in a rush.
"What?" Nyelle turns around.
"Let's get out of Crenshaw," I suggest, my pulse thrumming.
"Where do you want to go?"
I grin at the intrigue reflecting in her eyes. "Uh... Oregon. My uncle's cabin. He's going hiking this weekend. We'll have the place to ourselves. And... there isn't any snow."
She laughs. "A cabin in the woods, just the two of us for a weekend?"
"Or the rest of the week," I offer. "Up to you. He won't care. And I can work for him in the garage while I'm there. I could use the money."
Nyelle bites her lower lip in thought. Then she slowly smiles and says, "Okay. Let's spend the rest of the week in Oregon."
She reaches for my bedroom door, but I rush to intercept her. "I'll get our bags. Why don't you... get your things from the bathroom?"
Nyelle eyes me suspiciously. "Are you hiding something in there?"
/>
"It doesn't matter," I answer evasively. "Let me pack a bag, and we'll leave."
"Right now?" she questions, still scrutinizing me.
"Yeah. Why not? We'll catch the next flight out, even if we have to fly standby and take a couple layovers to get there."
"You know you're being weird right now, right?"
I nod. "I know. But it'll make sense later. I promise."
Nyelle keeps her narrowed eyes on me as she slowly walks to the bathroom, like she's worried I've lost my mind. Which is very possible. "Okay."
When she's safely behind the bathroom door, I slip into my room to pack.
NICOLE
May--Junior Year of High School
"Can you believe he just told me like it was no big deal?" Richelle screams into her pillow as I rub her back, trying to calm her down.
Her face is red and damp with tears when she lifts it from the pillow.
I want to say I'm sorry. I want to tell her that Lily doesn't mean anything to Cal. They already broke up. I want to tell her anything that will make her feel better.
But more than that, I wish I was screaming into that pillow alongside her.
"I'm being such a girl. I know it," she says, sniffling. "But it hurts. And I don't know how to make it stop."
"I know," I console. And I do. My chest felt like it was being crushed when I found out. And then when I arrived and saw Richelle's face, it only made it worse. So I try to be the best friend that she needs and not the heartbroken girl I am, and listen to her cry as she spills her hurt on her pillow.
Richelle inhales, trying to calm her stuttering breaths. She eases herself up to sit, holding the pillow to her chest.
"Do you know what hurts the most?"
I wait.
"That he didn't even hesitate to tell me. He obviously thinks of me as just a friend. I know I told him that's what I wanted when I broke up with him. But I didn't mean it. I just couldn't tell him..."
"I know," I say when her voice cracks. "You love him and he doesn't know it."
"What if he could never feel that way about me?" She sniffles, crushed. "I don't know what to do. Maybe I shouldn't talk to him anymore. It hurts too much. "
"Richelle, you're hurting right now. But you can't stop talking to him."
"Why not? You have."
"But that's--"
"Because of me," she interrupts.
"No. I was going say, that's my choice. Don't let him go like I did."
Because I regret it every day.
Chapter Nineteen
"You've packed enough sugar to last a month," I remark as Nyelle tries to zip her backpack around the bag of marshmallows sticking out of the top.
"You said we'll be in the middle of nowhere," she says, smiling proudly when she's finally able to close the bulging bag.
"And that's all you're planning to eat?" I ask, throwing my duffel bag over my shoulder. "Besides, I was going to stop by a store on our way to the cabin."
"Now you don't have to," she gloats, putting on her jacket.
I laugh, waiting for her by the door. "Yeah, I do. I can't eat like you. I need something that grows out of the ground every once in a while."
Nyelle rolls her carry-on behind her down the hall. "Will your uncle be there when we get in?"
"No. He's leaving this afternoon to meet up with the guys he's climbing with. I called and told him we're coming, though. He's leaving the light on."
We step outside into the instant freeze. I start the truck, shivering, wishing I'd let it heat up.
"You never told me what you did for him." Nyelle cuddles up close to my side to get warm.
I pull out of the parking lot and wrap my arm around her shoulder. "He custom designs and rebuilds motorcycles."
I don't notice until after we're driving away that Nyelle's gawking at me.
"What?"
"You. And motorcycles? Really?"
I eye her curiously. "I don't get it."
"That's kinda hot."
"I don't ride them," I clarify. "And I don't have a single tattoo. There's nothing really badass about me. I just happen to know how to use a socket wrench."
"Don't ruin this for me," Nyelle says. "Let me hold on to this image for just a minute longer." She closes her eyes with a grin.
I laugh. "What's so sexy about a guy on a motorcycle anyway?"
Truth. My mother would kill me if I ever rode any of the bikes I help construct. Her uncle died in a crash when she was young, and she won't let any of us even consider riding. Even my brothers are afraid to go against that rule.
"I don't know. It just is. Unless he's a cocky douche. Or three hundred pounds. That's just... Ew." She exaggerates a shiver.
"That didn't really explain anything," I say with a smile. "But I guess it's a good thing I will never be a three-hundred-pound cocky douche riding a motorcycle."
"It is a good thing." Nyelle reaches over and turns down the radio.
"Cal?" she asks, leaning in so her head is resting on my chest.
"Yes?" I'm wary of her careful tone.
"You never told me what makes you walk away from all the girls you've dated."
"I thought we already had this conversation," I say, not exactly sure what she's looking for. I walk away because it's what I always do. And it's easier to do it when there's nothing to lose.
"We did. Sort of," she says, playing with the zipper on my jacket. "I just think there's more to it."
"Really?" I respond, not willing to agree or disagree. I'd rather not be talking about this at all. But for some reason she keeps bringing it up. I don't know what she's hoping to learn about me, other than I get out before it starts getting complicated.
"Yeah, I do. I think when you end things, it isn't just that they're not your what if girl."
"Okay," I say carefully, letting her come to her own conclusions. So far, she's right.
"You don't have feelings for them, no matter how much you like them."
This is starting to get uncomfortable, especially with her sitting under my arm. When I'm quiet, she leans back so she can see my face, forcing me to remove my arm from behind her.
"You know why you do it, don't you? Why you walk away?"
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "It's not like it's a secret I'm trying to keep from you, Nyelle. It's that I don't really want to think about these girls, especially since I'm here with you. You're not one of them. And I don't want you to ever think you are."
"That's sweet." She leans over and kisses me on the cheek. "So tell me."
I blow out a lungful of air and say, "I don't want to hurt them."
She's quiet. When I glance over at her, a sad smile hangs on her face.
"What?" I ask. "Why does that upset you?"
"You walk away before you can hurt them," Nyelle says softly. "So... who hurt you?"
I continue to stare straight ahead, not willing to contribute to this conversation anymore. Because what am I supposed to say... you? You and Richelle crushed me within the same summer, and it's not something I've ever gotten over. That's not about to come out of my mouth. So I don't say anything.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, wrapping herself under my arm and laying her head on my chest. "I don't want to..." She doesn't finish. But I know where that sentence was going.
"It's okay." I squeeze her against me and kiss the top of her head. "I'll be fine."
We both know how this is going to end. She's leaving after this week, even though we haven't mentioned it since the night of the painting. And when she does, it's going to suck. This isn't where she belongs. I know that. But then... where does she belong? As much as I want that answer to be "with me," I know it's not the reality. I'm running out of time. There's no avoiding it now. This is definitely going to suck.
*
The winding dirt road veers off down a narrower road that ends at the cabin. I park the rental car next to the garage and turn off the engine.
"Nyelle, we're here," I tell her softly, ru
nning a hand along her cheek.
Her eyes blink open and she looks around. "We're here?"
"Yeah."
Henley comes trotting out from behind the cabin, barking and wagging his tail, just as Nyelle opens her door. I step out of the car as she exclaims, "Henley!" Then falls to her knees to receive him. He rushes over to her, licking her face. Nyelle wraps her arms around him, patting his back as he continues to lick her cheek, wagging like crazy.
When she stands, Nyelle is visibly shaken. She grabs on to the passenger door for balance.
"Hey," I say, jogging around to her. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
Nyelle shakes her head to dismiss me, tucking loose strands of her ponytail behind her ear. "I'm fine," she rasps. She presses her lips together to conceal their trembling as she averts her eyes, scanning the ground.
I reach for her hand, but she quickly pulls it away, turning to shut the door. She appears disoriented as she keeps her hands pressed against the frame of the door for balance.
"Nyelle? What's going on?" I ask, trying to assess what just happened. Henley rubs against my leg. I look down at him, patting the top of his head. That's when I know... seeing him did this. Henley stays with Zac while I'm at college, and since Zac knew we were going to be here, he decided to leave Henley behind. I never expected Nyelle to react like this when she saw him.
Nyelle turns to me, lost behind vacant eyes. It's like she's not really here.
"Do you remember Henley?" I ask cautiously as she reaches for her backpack.
I never thought she was pretending not to know me, or making an effort not to recall things she should've known. No one's that talented of an actor. I just stopped questioning it because I was willing to accept her as she is. Now... I can't ignore the trembling girl in front of me, accosted once again by a reminder of a past she's somehow forgotten. I have no idea what to do.
"Sorry. I'm really tired," she murmurs, running a quivering hand over her hair. "Do you think we can go in?"
"Yeah, sure," I say, wrapping an arm around her and picking up her bag with the other hand. She leans in to me as we walk toward the house. She's still shaking, almost as bad as the night I carried her after swimming in the icy lake.
I remove the key from the hook under the stairs and lead Nyelle up to the door. She's quiet, her gaze still directed on the ground, dazed. I unlock the door and flip on the lights, lighting up the large open space.