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Chapter 8
Tyler
Kent and I carry our barbecue to the end of a table.He sits across from me.As I’m pulling a paper towel off the roll, a crash behind me draws a memory to the forefront of my mind.I know without looking that someone dropped bottle caps.
But I don’t turn around because I’m tired of being disappointed.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”Kent douses his brisket with sauce.
“Is there a tall woman with short dark hair gathering up the bottle caps?”
“Nope.There’s a gangly teen who is redder than Archer with a sunburn.Poor kid.It’s a big mess.”His eyes narrow.“The woman from the party?”
“Yeah.You’d think that after six months, thoughts of her wouldn’t pop into my head multiple times a day.I’d launch a search, but I don’t even know enough to do that.Her house was miles from here.The party where we met was far from here.And I have no idea if she moved somewhere close or to a different state.”
“It takes a long time to stop thinking about someone.”
“Care to expound on that?”
He shrugs and stabs a fork into his meat.
“But eventually the thoughts stop?”
“Mostly.You think about them.Wonder what you should’ve done differently.Think about them some more.Then one day you tuck into bed and realize it’s the first time you’ve thought about them in over a week.The gaps lengthen.The guilt fades.And you carry on with life like nothing ever happened.”
“And the part where you think you see her driving past in a car or walking into a building?When does that end?”
He drops his fork.“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish.The other day, I caught a glimpse of a woman who was heading the opposite way on the highway.Split second.And then once when I was headed to the hardware store, I cut through some back streets because of the school zone, and as I passed a house, a woman who looked like Jasmine walked inside.”
Kent picks up his fork.“Did you stop?”
“No!”I have replayed that day almost as often as I think about the party.“What was I supposed to say?‘Hi.I’m not a stalker, but...’Of course I didn’t stop.But I have driven by that house several times.”
He gives a soft chuckle.“To avoid the school zone.”
“Exactly.And I haven’t seen her again.”I bite into my rib.It’s good to have at least one person to chat with about this stuff.But saying it out loud makes me feel just as crazy.“Maybe I should volunteer to help with a school fundraiser and go door-to-door along that street.”
“No one is going to buy chocolate bars or cookie dough from you, Tyler.”
“True.”I take another bite.“I’m just hoping you’re right and that I eventually stop thinking about her.”
“Or actually run into her.”He laughs.
I finish my rib as I think about that possibility.“I thought you were my friend.Piling on hope isn’t going to help the thoughts fade.”
Grinning, he shrugs.“Maybe you’ll find her asleep somewhere and have to wake her with a kiss.”
“That’s a whacked fairy tale.Who kisses a complete stranger when she’s asleep?But you have one thing right.Thinking I’m going to see her again is a fantasy.”
By the time I’ve devoured the rest of my ribs, there’s a pile of paper towels wadded next to my tray.The delicious food makes up for having sticky sauce-covered fingers.
Kent sits back down after refilling his tea.“It might be too soon to give up hope.Once you do, loneliness creeps into the hopeless spaces.And I haven’t figured out when that ends.”He picks up his tray and walks away.
I clear my spot, then refill my tea before meeting him at the truck.“You loved her, didn’t you?”
“I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.One thing that is sure, I’m never trying again.”He slams his door, and I know that’s the end of the conversation.
