“You do know I’m going to use this against you in the future. You can’t ever tell me to shut up again,” I joke. She smiles wide. “What about you?”
“I don’t like the pressure,” she says without missing a beat. She tries to laugh but the noise doesn’t come out properly as she fiddles with her fork. “Austin’s pregnant and she told me to tell my mom for her.”
I almost choke on my food. “What?”
“Yeah, she told me a few weeks ago. It was just after we, y’know, made out. Anyway, that’s why I was so off with you before the show because I was planning on telling her after. I had to do my absolute best so if I told my mom, it would fly right over her head. Then, I saw her miss my performance and I got angry, so I didn’t tell her and now here we are.”
I’m quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say. That’s really messed up. I can’t imagine having that weight on your shoulders. She looks out at the crowds of people, smiling softly at the music playing. Something in her face changes when she speaks next.
“Do you want to know what the worst part is? She didn’t even think about my side of it. Austin wanted me to tell her after the showcase because she thought that if I told her then, she’d have all of her focus on me and forget it. It’s like me skating trumps her getting pregnant. Like she knows that mom would fixate on me instead of her.”
“That really sucks. I’m sorry. Do you know when you’re going to tell her?” I ask after a while.
“I don’t know,” she sighs, falling back into her chair deeper. “I’m hoping that Austin will suck it up and tell her herself. I can’t deal with that kind of drama. Not so close to comp season.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.”
We both dig back into our food before it gets cold, neither of us asking any questions before she sits up on her chair, her arms resting on the table, her head in her hands. “Next question.”
“They just get worse,” I say, picking up my phone to scroll through it.
“I’m a big girl, Milesy. I can handle it.” She gives me a wicked grin as she nudges me under the table. I push back, chuckling at her.
“Okay.” I close my phone, mirroring her position. “Do you believe in love?”
“That’s easy,” she laughs, pushing her hair over her shoulder before giving me a dead look. “No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’? You look like a person who does. Considering the kinds of books, you're always reading.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love love. Does it exist? Sure. But do I want it? Definitely not.”
Her candour shocks me. This whole time I thought she was a romantic underneath all the stubbornness. A hopeless one at that. I thought that after reading all those romance books, she’d aspire for that. That she would crave it. Hope for it at least. She looks out to the band again, her eyes not braving mine, as they play ‘At Last’ by Etta James with wicked timing.
“I love the idea of love. The way it’s written about in books and in movies. But actually, being in love — it’s scary. It’s all consuming. Falling in love is so easy but it’s just as easy to fall out of it. My parents did. They acted like everything was fine. They went on pretending. And then just one day, it was gone. All the sparks, all the reason they had to stay together just seized to exist. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be constantly waiting for the day my partner doesn’t want me anymore. The torture. The anticipation. I just couldn’t live like that.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I get that, but I don’t think you should be scared. It’s a powerful thing; being in love. We’re young and we’re going to feel things that are more than lust and sometimes the only word to describe that is love.”
She turns to me now, tears lining her eyes. “Can’t there be another word? We use the word love for everything. Ilovemy friends. Ilovemy shoes. Ilovethis food. It doesn’tmeananything anymore. Can’t there be something that has the same meaning, carries the same weight but doesn’t feel indefinite. Binding. Something that doesn’t have to tie you down to that person and suddenly change everything. When you’re in love with a person romantically, you can’t go back. But when you change your mind, as humans do, it becomes a big thing. But I guess that’s what people want though. Something tangible to change in their relationship. To make it more serious or some shit.”
We both look at each other for an extended moment. The way her brain works blows my mind and I'm obsessed with it. I want her brain. Her mind. Her everything. Anything that she’s willing to give me. I wait for her to continue. There’s something lost in her eyes, something distant as she doesn’t break eye contact with me.
“If I ever feel anything remotely close to being in love, I just want toexistwith that person. I don’t want to ruin it by binding us together by a word. An emotion.”
I'm shellshocked for a moment, not sure what to say. This girl has flipped around nearly every single thought that I had about her. I finally muster up the courage to ask, "Did that mean you were never in love with Augustus?"
She shakes her head. "Not really. I knew he loved me and I appreciated it. I knew I had some strong feelings for him but I didn't want to let us fall into that."
I nod. "Do you think you feel this way about love because you feel like you don't trust it or because you don't deserve it?"
"Both?"
"Well, that's bullshit, Wren. You're worthy of everything good in this world."
She still holds eye contact with me but I see the way her eyes glimmer. "Even love? Even if it breaks my heart?"
"Esepeciallylove,"I say, "even if it breaks your heart."
We're quiet for the rest of the day. Neither one of us wanting to say more than a few words after we just bled out our emotions onto the table. Something shifted. I don’t know when or how but something else had changed between us. Like the string that was holding us together has pulled us even closer without us realising. The silence that could be uncomfortable, feels welcoming.
