The door slams shut, cutting her off, and a wave of guilt crashes over me, the way it always does when my subconscious reminds me that she’s great, wonderful, perfect for me in every way.
But she’s not the love of my life.
I meet Jack at the firehouse, taking the stairs three at a time up to the loft above the station reserved for the fire chief. Old man Ritter would rather drop dead than give up his Sleep Number mattress, so he let Jack take over the space, so small you can barely call it a studio apartment. It shocked the hell out of me when he told me he was coming back to Larkspur, but damn if I’m not glad he’s here.
When I open the door, I see that Jack isn’t alone–David is lounging on his couch, making himself right at home the way he has a habit of doing everywhere he goes.
“Well, well, well,” he says. “Hello traitor.”
He doesn’t bother standing up as I clap Jack on the back, then move around the couch to shove his legs off and take a seat.
“What are you on about?” I ask.
“What, just because I don’t live here anymore, all of a sudden you only text Jacky boy in an emergency?” He lifts a hand to his chest, moaning like a wounded animal. “That hurts, Griff.”
He’s being dramatic, but it doesn’t hide the genuine worry in his face. And given the way I reacted to three measly seconds of Eleanor, maybe he should be worried.
“When?” Jack asks, not needing to clarify.
“Just now, at the coffee house,” I say, my voice sounding weary. “She didn’t say anything to me, in fact she ran out like the building was on fire. I barely got a glimpse of her.”
“Did you want her to say something?” he asks slowly.
“I don’t know, man,” I say, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. “Part of me wants to get it over with, part of me hopes I can avoid talking to her altogether.”
“No way dude, you gotta at least say hi,” David says. “It’s worse for you if you don’t, you’ll always wonder ‘what if?’”
“What ifwhatthough?” I say, frustration beginning to boil in my chest. “What if it goes well? What if we fight? What if we have nothing to say?”
Now that I’m on a roll, every bitter thought comes pouring out. “What if we have our movie moment? What if we finally manage a life where we don’t constantly rip each other apart? We both know that’s not going to happen.”
My voice rises along with my temper, and I know it’s not fair to take it out on my friends, but that doesn’t stop me. “What are you guys even here for? What’s the fucking point? Nothing is going to make this less awkward or shitty.” Punching the couch pillow in my lap, I mutter, mostly to myself, “I should have gone on vacation and drowned Larkspur out until this stupid reunion is over.”
Looking up at my friends’ faces, my anger is replaced by regret almost instantly. “I’m sorry you guys, I didn’t mean to yell at you,” I sigh in that same weary tone. “I feel like shit right now. I was an ass to Madison, I’m being an ass here. Why is it that I become the worst version of myself when my mind gets stuck on her?”
“Because the best version of you wouldn’t exist without her,” Jack says quietly. “It’s soul-crushingly painful when you thought you had forever, but forever walks out the door and doesn’t look back.”
I tilt my head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying to blink away the burning sensation building behind my eyes. Eleanor was my forever. Part of her always will be.
Patting me on the shoulder, David simply nods his head in agreement. Jack stands up, gripping my other shoulder briefly before heading to the kitchen and grabbing four beers from the fridge, keeping one for himself, handing one each to me and David, and setting the fourth one on the table in front of me.
“Are we expecting someone else?” I ask, brows furrowing in confusion. “No,” he says. “But you’re going to slam that first one and need another, and I don’t want to get up again.”
I shrug, not bothering to argue. Cracking the can open, I down half of it in one go, still trying to figure out how one glimpse of her can still turn my world upside down all these years later.
Chapter 28
Griffin
February, Age 18
“I’m really glad we’re doing this. I thought maybe you’d never ask me out.”
After a week or two of things really feeling back to normal with Eleanor and the guys, I decided to ask Katie on a date after all. We’ve been on a few dates since then, and it’s been good.
Okay so maybe I had to talk myself into a second date. I had no reason not to–the first date went objectively well. She’s nice, and she’s pretty, and she’s driven.
And she’s not Eleanor.
