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“What?” I press. “Just spit it out.”
“We all have our habits.” He takes a swig of his fresh beer. “And you shut down and make assumptions when you feel threatened.”
“I do not,” I snap.
He raises an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t at the Truth or Dare game at Fletcher’s Pond,” he says, “but I heard about what happened. It sounds like you freaked out and assumed that Erin couldn’t possibly be into you, so you made a rude remark to push her away.”
“I… That’s not…”
“Uh-huh? That’s not what happened?”
I feel my face flush with embarrassment as I recall that night. Sam is right. I always assume the worst and let my insecurities get the best of me.
But this time, it feels different. This time, I feel like Erin genuinely doesn’t want to be with me. She’s always been busy, but now there’s this new job, and it seems like she’s moving on with her life without me.
“I just don’t understand,” I say, my voice low. “We had something good.”
Sam nods in agreement. “You did, and I’m sorry, but I don’t automatically buy your side of the story.”
“She didn’t even suggest that she’ll still make time for me. All she talked about was this new job—”
“Did you give her a chance to suggest that?”
I shut my mouth. Dang. He has a point.
Sam shakes his head. “You’re so stubborn sometimes. You know what I think? I think that deep down you believe you’re not good enough for her, and that’s why you sabotage things whenever you have a chance. But have you ever stopped to think that maybe she sees something in you that you don’t even see in yourself?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right. Like what?”
“Like your loyalty. Your work ethic. Your sense of humor. Your kindness. Your—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” I interrupt, feeling a strange mixture of annoyance and gratitude. “But even if all that’s true, it still doesn’t change the fact that she’s too busy for a relationship.”
“Again, you don’t know that.” Sam gives me a pointed look. “So go talk to her. Find out for yourself what’s really going on.”
His words fill me with adrenaline. He’s right. I was an idiot. I pushed her away — again — because I was too scared.
I need to make things right. I need to apologize and hear her out instead of running away with my tail tucked between my legs.
“Thanks, man.” Tossing some cash on the bar, I slide off my stool. “I owe you one.”
“If this ends with you finally being happy, that’s all the repayment I need.” He says it so casually that I’m actually worried for myself.
Has my dissatisfaction with life really been that obvious?
Leaving Sam at the bar, I head to my truck and kick gravel on my way out of the parking lot. I could call Erin, but I don’t trustmyself to speak on the phone right now. Calls have always made me awkward, and I want to put my best foot forward tonight.
During the drive to her parents’ house, I lean forward in excitement and hit the gas a little too hard. By the time I turn into their driveway, I’m a ball of nerves.
What should I say? Should I explain everything Sam just said?
No. That’s too much. I should just start with an apology. A simple “I’m sorry.” And then we’ll go from there.
The driveway is empty, but the cars could be in the garage, so I don’t take that as a sign that no one is home. My legs feeling weak, I climb the front steps and ring the doorbell. The dog starts barking, and I strain to listen for any hints of human activity in the house.
After a few moments, the door opens and Erin’s mother stands in front of me, looking surprised to see me. “Oh, hello, Josh. How are you?”
