I pick up my pen so I can make sure to jot down any feedback I have for her essay. But my hand freezes once she starts reading; I’m immediately drawn into her words. When she finishes, the group bursts into light applause. We go around telling Izzy all the things we loved about her essay. There’s a little hesitation when I ask them to share anything they think Izzy can improve, but once they break the ice, the feedback flows, their ideas bouncing off one another like Ping-Pong balls. Izzy writes down all their suggestions, and by the time we wrap up, she’s grinning from ear to ear and the next person volunteers without hesitation.
After the fourth reader has shared, I sit back in my seat,watching as they all jump in with positive comments and constructive criticism without my having to prompt them. Obviously the majority of the credit here goes to the teens themselves, but I can’t help but feel a small flicker of pride for my tiny role in the equation. It feels good.
I catch Seth’s gaze in my peripheral vision, turning my head to watch him work with the teens in his group. His eyes briefly glance away from the student who’s reading, meeting mine with a warm smile. A smile that perfectly encapsulates the same amount of pride and excitement I’m feeling in this moment. And oh, my heart. It feels like it just took a beating from Duke.
I force myself to look away, but the smile on my own face lingers. For the rest of the session, my eyes move of their own accord, finding his, and we exchange smiles. I watch him as he instructs his group with patience and enthusiasm, see how the cocky and charming first boy I ever loved has grown into a man who is kind and thoughtful and generous with both his time and his praise. My stomach starts fluttering and never seems to stop.
Our time with the teens comes to an end long before I want it to. I could sit and listen to their exchanging ideas for hours, and I don’t want this closeness, both physically and emotionally, with Seth to end. I collect email addresses from my entire group and promise to be in touch to set up another workshop day soon. I take hugs and high fives from those who feel comfortable giving them and collect waves and smiles from the rest. We snap one big group photo, Seth and me in the middle surrounded by our smiling students.I’m sure Natasha will wring every drop of publicity out of it that she can, but I dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, not willing to let her ruin this day. The last student leaves and the door closes with an echo in the suddenly silent room.
Seth and I put the desks in order, working quickly and quietly, until we’re back at the front of the room, facing each other, with nothing and everything left to say.
I want to cry. I want to hug him. I want to punch him. I want to kiss him. I want to open my mouth and tell him every emotion that’s roiled through me since I first saw him in theATFoffice. But I can’t even manage to part my lips, let alone form the words.
“You want to go get a drink?”
I nod. “Yes.”
23
All relationships, whether they be good or bad, leave a mark on our souls.
—Lana Parker, “It’s Okay to Still Think About Your Ex”
We walk to a bar across the street, claiming a high-top table in an isolated corner and ordering a round of beers. Neither of us says anything until our drinks are delivered. Tension wraps around us, and it’s heavier than it’s been since the night in the parking lot. And this time it isn’t angry or even sad. It’s tingling and warm and dangerous.
“Cheers.” Seth holds up his pint glass, his eyes meeting mine over the rim.
I clink mine against his. “Cheers.” I pull my eyes from his the second we’ve finished our first sip. His gaze is dark and I’m scared to even question the emotions I’m seeing.
He studies me for a long second. “I’m really glad we did this together.”
I take another quick drink, hoping the cold beer willhelp cool the flush in my cheeks. “Yeah. Me too.” Shifting a little on my chair, I attempt to put some more space between us at this tiny table. “I’ve never done anything like that before, but I’d love to do it again.”
He crosses his arms, leaning on the table, closing the short distance I just put between us. “I haven’t been able to do any workshops in a few years given all the traveling, but I tried to do some when I was still living at home. I feel like I learn as much as they do.”
“For sure.” I think about how fearless some of the kids were today, sharing their stories, possibly for the first time ever, and being totally open to hearing the feedback from their peers. Fearless and open: two things I’m trying hard to be in my life. Though I don’t feel much of either at the moment. “You know, for a minute there earlier, I kind of understood my mother.”
Seth raises his eyebrows, taking a long pull from his beer. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I know the point of volunteering is to help others, but I never realized how gratifying it’d feel on my end. And this was just one small workshop; I can only imagine what it must be like to build a whole freaking school.” I shrug, sitting back in my seat. The fact that I’m happy to shift the conversation to the topic of my mom shows me just how much I want to avoid thinking about Seth, about us. “Kind of makes sense why she’s made it her life’s work.” It’s the nicest thought I’ve had about her in a very long time.
“I don’t think anyone would ever argue that your mom is a bad person, Parker. She does a lot of good for a lot ofpeople.” He hesitates, like we might not yet be back at the place where he can say whatever he wants to me.
“But...?”
“But she was a shitty mom. And you deserved better.”
“Your family showed me better.” My voice is quiet, and I wonder if he can detect the trace of pain in my words.
He’s silent for a long moment, then he reaches over and takes my hand. “We should’ve done better—no, I should’ve done better—with keeping in touch. Just because we didn’t work out didn’t mean you had to lose your relationship with them.”
His words are kind and generous, but it’s the skin-to-skin contact that flips my heart to stuttering. Suddenly all I can feel is my hand in his. All I can see is the fathomless blue of his eyes. “You didn’t want to be with me anymore, Seth. I wouldn’t have wanted to make things weird with your family. I know how much they mean to you.”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Lana. It’s not that I didn’t want to be with you.” His free hand rubs at his forehead, and I can hear the exasperation in his voice. “God, I really thought you would’ve known. I see now that it’s on me for not being clearer back then. I should’ve made sure you really understood what I wanted and why. I never wanted you out of my life for good.”
And I guess we’re doing this now, whether I want to or not. Whether or not I’m ready to face the past. Whether or not I can admit just how very much my feelings for Seth are a part of my present.
“Seth, you called me on a random school night andpoint-blank told me long-distance wasn’t working and you didn’t think you could do it. And that’s after you completely torpedoed all our plans.” Part of me is dying for our whole breakup to have been some kind of misunderstanding, while another part of me is annoyed he’s taking a red pen to the pages of our history.
