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Eighteen
Calista
After Rylan drops me off at the cabin because I declined dinner with his family, I sit on the couch and decide to torture myself by plugging in the old slide machine and watching pictures of us flicker across the wall.
Our kiss in the car was awesome. If it hadn’t been for Fisher, I probably would have begged Rylan to take me right there on the side of the road. What does that say about me?
It’s like the sexual spark between us cannot die even if we’ve ended our relationship. I have to keep reminding myself that after this wedding is over, he’ll be returning to Chicago and I’ll stay here. Nothing has really changed.
I go through all the pictures, but I still think we need more so I pull out my laptop and go to my pictures. Specifically, my sophomore year at UCLA.
After high school, Rylan and I decided to end our relationship because I didn’t get a scholarship to Stanford. We knew the distance would be too hard, and we didn’t want one of us to ruin what had been a good relationship by being tempted to do something stupid, or for neglecting the other while we were both pursuing our dreams. Even though we broke up, I think we thought we might find our way back into each other’s lives whenever life allowed.
So after the summer of senior year, we went our separate ways. Unfortunately, soccer kept us so busy, I didn’t see Rylan again in person until my sophomore year of college.
I was in the Laundromat, washing my clothes and studying at the same time, when a loud group of guys came in with a huge bag of clothes. Some of them lifted the lids of the washers while three went to the machine that sold detergent and one went to Polly, the attendant, and asked to change in cash for quarters. I glanced up but quickly went back to my studies.
Until a guy came and sat next to me at the table. I didn’t glance in his direction, keeping my eyes trained on my textbook.
“Hey, I’m Josh.”
His voice was so close, I glanced up and nodded. “That’s nice.” “Okay.” He leaned back and stretched out his legs.
That was when I caught sight of the indent on his shins from shin pads. My eyes traveled along the floor, and sure enough, all of them had indents on their shins from shin pads. They all wore red shorts and my stomach dropped. Out of all the Laundromats in this city, he picked this one?
I slammed my book and tucked it in my backpack, which made me look at the guy who was smiling at me.
“You look familiar,” Josh said.
Not sure why. I doubted the guy went to the women’s soccer games when we played Stanford.
On the days when Rylan was playing down here, I steered clear of the stadium, but today I’d gone to the game, blending in with the student body just to see him as up close as I could get. Sure, I watched his games if they were televised, but I wanted to see his messy brown hair and those hazel eyes that pierced my soul.
“I don’t know from what. We’re from Stanford. Hate to break it to you, but we gave your boys a beating today.” Josh leaned back in his chair with his arms across his chest.
Then I felt his eyes on me. I slowly turned and he was paused, putting quarters into the machine. He dropped them and some other guy complained but picked them up and started the washer.
Never breaking our eye contact, Rylan walked my way. “Oh my god, Calista!”
Josh snaps his fingers. “That’s where I know you. From Ry.”
“What?”
Rylan shook his head. “Josh has a habit of breaking into people’s phones and looking at photos.”
My heart flipped over the fact that he still had pictures of me on his phone. I bit my bottom lip and Rylan’s eyes dipped to watch me release it. “Oh.”
“This is crazy.” Josh sat up. “What are the chances, right?”
We nodded.
“Want to go get coffee?” Rylan asked.
I stood. “Yes.”
He stepped aside to allow me past, and I told Polly I’d be back in case my clothes were finished before I returned.
Once we had gotten our coffees and sat down at a table outside, Rylan kept looking at me as though he couldn’t believe I was there in front of him. “You look great.”
