“Wait, really?” David asks excitedly. “What are we waiting for, tell her to come over!”
Jack shoots me a furtive glance–David wasn’t here for the shit-show that was the last time Eleanor and I saw each other. It was too hard to talk about for the first few weeks, and by the time I finally stopped feeling like even the thought of her was going to kill me, too much time had passed to bring it up without being awkward. To his knowledge, things simply fizzled out when she moved to the east coast. I fucking wish that’s all there was to it.
Mercifully, Jack says something so I don’t have to.
“She’s part of the planning committee, she’s busy,” he says. I don’t know if that’s a lie or not, and I don’t care. At least I don’t have to revisit that night. Yet.
“How do you know?”
“I saw her the day she got here, she’s staying with Abby.”
I nearly break my neck as I whip my head toward the front window, where there’s a clear view of the yellow house across the street. When Abby and Aaron bought that house, I spent the first year with a pit in my stomach, dreading the day she’d come visit. The second year, I desperately hoped she would. Three years in, I accepted that she would probably never set foot on this street again.
Now she’s been here for a week and I didn’t even know. How the hell did I not know?
She’s probably working damn hard to make sure you don’t.
I wrench my gaze from the house back to the conversation happening in front of me, but I don’t hear another word. All I can focus on is the fact that Eleanor has been less than 100 yards away all week, and I had no idea.
When David leaves for the night, Jack gives me an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about Ellie being here,” he says quietly. “I didn’t know if it would be better or worse for you to know.”
“I don’t know if it’s better or worse either, honestly,” I say with a shrug.
“How are you feeling?” The question is tentative, almost nervous. I guess it is a pretty loaded one.
“I don’t know. Weird, I guess?” It comes out more like a question, like I need someone else to tell me how I’m feeling right now.
“Well, I’m here if you need anything. You might not even run into her until the reunion, you barely stay here these days anyway.”
For a moment, I’m confused by what he means. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. He’s right–Idon’tstay at this house much anymore. I’m usually at the apartment. Madison’s apartment. Madison, my girlfriend's apartment. I haven’t thought about her once since Eleanor was mentioned, and the thought makes me queasy. We’ve beendating for almost a year, shouldn’t I think about her when she’s not around? I usually do.
Eleanor usually isn’t across the street.
“When is this reunion thing again?” I sigh heavily, slumping down in the seat until my chin is touching my chest. I’m already exhausted by the thought of having to endure a night where Eleanor is close enough to touch, but still out of reach.
Out of reach because you have a girlfriend, dickhead.
“The 23rd, I think.”
“You’re fucking joking,” I say sharply, bolting upright. “That’s a joke.”
“I can assure you, it is not a joke. You’re the one who always says I’m incapable of making those.”
“The reunion is planned for her fucking birthday?”
“Well I don’t think it was planned specifically for that, but yes, the reunion happens to fall on Ellie’s birthday.”
“I don’t think I can do this, man,” I say wearily, dragging my hand down my face.
“You can. And you will.”
I shoot him a disgusted look–if I never hear those words out of his mouth again, it’ll be too soon.
Chapter 17
Griffin
