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Epilogue - One Year Later
Andrew
Ace will forever be my One.
She didn’t have a fucking clue what my body did whenever she was around. Every time she stepped into a room, I knew precisely where she was. Whenever she was within even five feet of me, I felt like I was on fire. If she had ever spontaneously grabbed my hand in high school—which, to this day, I’m glad she hadn’t—hers would slide right out from all the sweat. I’m glad I didn’t have a snitching-ass watch like hers, because it would always tell me—and her—what her closeness did to me.
I’m surprised my dick didn’t tell on me. I still don’t understand how she couldn’t feel it every time we hugged, and especially in the beginning, because it refused to stop pointing at her. Just thinking about her made my pants stretch uncomfortably forward, made it press against the zipper.
And yet, despite almost getting caught thousands of times, I did whatever I could to be near her, to be sucked endlessly into the gravitational pull of her wit and scorn—which she doled out in equal and generous measure. From the moment I saw her walk into our ninth grade English class—hurried, as if she was already late—I knew that I had to be near her. And once I fought against her tide of defensiveness, I knew that she was the One for me. Forever.
Because, you see, it wasn’t that I believed that there’s no such thing as the One That Could Last Forever. It’s that I knew it was elusive and, most times, pure fucking luck. My parents got lucky and found each other by accident. My dad got on the wrong train and saw my mother sitting there “looking like God’s perfect image,” as he says. Cat and Jeremiah got lucky, too—they’ve known each other all their lives, were in the same kindergarten class.
But who was I to be so lucky? I was pretty sure Alicia was it for me, but she spent most of her effort trying to push me away.
So I dated. A lot. And I made it so nothing was permanent, not even my job, so that nothing could have the potential to hurt me. I knew it made me seem flighty. I knew that Alicia, with her desire for stability, might see me as less desirable for it. Still, I couldn’t take the risk of being rejected by her. I figured, if everything else could be made transient, love could be, too. Because that’s that futile shit you think and do to get over the One You’ll Never Get Over.
Each time I dated someone new, I thought she would be the One That Could Help Me Get Over Alicia Jones. Some came close; Sadie almost convinced me that I could do it. But then I saw Ace fighting with someone on the phone (as usual), and the old familiar feeling of “I’ll always be hers” overtook me. So I broke up with Sadie.
Even still, I didn’t want to bank my hopes and dreams on that. And the moment I watched her get legally tied to that fool Michael, I thought that was the end of it.
But thank God for Cat’s meddling, and for her big mouth, and for her unwillingness to give up on me and Alicia. Because of Cat, Alicia gave me a gift: she fought against my tide of defensiveness and challenged my notion of love, and my notions about her. When she showed up to the bus that day, I didn’t dare hope that she was there for me. But she was. (She was also there to get her job back, which she did. But still.)
And now, here she is, walking down the aisle in a dress that was made for her. Walking toward the man that lives for her.
God, I hope my dick doesn’t ruin this.
The End.
