“No, of course not,” I say, cringing at the awful attempt to sound upbeat. “We actually had a good long talk a few months ago, and we buried the hatchet. I talk to them plenty, it’s not about avoiding them.”
“Really, Ellie?” Now it’s my turn to take a long pause, and I know she doesn’t believe me. Because of course I don’t talk to them. Jack hasn’t spoken to me since that day at the diner. David sent a few memes, trying to act likethis wasn’t happening, but eventually those stopped too. Griffin–well, we know where Griffin stands.
“Yeah, we still use our group chat all the time!” The lie feels like ash in my mouth.
“Okay,” she says quietly, and I physically flinch at the hurt in her tone. I’ve never blatantly lied to her like that before. Sure, I’ll tell half-truths about my feelings, or commit lies of omission. But never like this. “Well, I love you, Ellie Bellie. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you, my sweet ginger angel. More than anything in the world. I promise.”
We mumble our goodbyes and end the call. The silence that follows makes my tiny studio apartment feel enormous–or maybe it just makes me feel small. Chewing on the skin inside my cheek, I pick my phone up and type out a text. No part of me wants to send it, but the guilt from lying to Abby outweighs my pride.
Ellie:I miss you guys! Hope everyone is doing well :)
I set my phone face-down on the couch next to me and bury my face in my hands. That was monumentally stupid. “Why, why, why?” I whine out loud, for only me and the one houseplant I’ve managed to keep alive to hear. Dreaddrops like an anchor in my stomach when my phone vibrates.
David:I MISS YOU
David:YOU GOTTA COME BACK
David:I DEMAND IT
Jack:Miss you, Ellie. Really and truly, I promise.
Jack: But *I* demand that you make your own decisions. And that David shuts up.
Jack:…but also please come home.
Something between a sob and a giggle bursts out of me. I miss them so much it hurts. I miss everything about Texas, about Larkspur. I wish it was as simple as packing up and moving back just because David demanded it.
Griffin:All good here *thumbs up emoji*
My jaw drops so hard it pops.Fuck, that hurt.Rubbing at the tender joint, I read Griffin’s text fifty times over. I didn’t expect him to reply. Not after the way we left things. My heart feels like it’s short-circuiting as it speedruns through a wide range of emotions. Surprise that he responded. Joy at seeing his name light up my phone again. Guilt when I remember why it’s been so long. Griefat the reminder of what I lost. Panic at the thought that I may never get another text from him.
It’s too much. I shoved all Griffin-related feelings deep in a drawer in the back of my mind, and have diligently made sure it never gets opened. But it’s like Pandora’s box–now that it’s open, there’s no hope of locking it back up again, no matter how ugly those feelings might be. So because I’m apparently a masochist now, I send another text.
Ellie:Hi Griffin
Ten long, miserable minutes pass, but the thing I didn’t dare let myself hope for actually happens.
Griffin:Hi Eleanor.
Another sob-laugh. I have no idea what to say, but I need to keep this conversation going like I need oxygen.
Ellie:How are you?
Griffin:Like I said, all good here
This is not promising. But it’s also notnotpromising. At least he’s responding.
Ellie:That’s good, I’m glad
Ellie:I miss you
Griffin:Yeah, you said that
Okay, so I guess things are a lot worse than “not promising.”
Griffin:I miss you too
