Page 64 of What We Had

Then, everything changed.

?

Islipped Connor’s picture into the middle drawer of my desk. I had memorized everything in that picture, burned it into my mind’s eye, and I still looked at it every day. He never smoked back at home. For whatever odd reason, I thought he looked so sexy with one pinched between his teeth, like he was the coolest guy in the world.

My guy. No one else’s.

And yet, we hadn’t communicated in almost two weeks. The last time we talked was a long email I wrote, one that I knew he’d take ten or fifteen minutes to read. He had told me he liked those, the long-form letters, because he didn’t want to use any of his internet time except to read letters from me. If he had time to spare, he went back and reread my old ones. Halfway around the world and he still knew what to say to make me swoon like some damsel.

He always knew the right thing to say. Always knew how to make me smile, how to make me laugh. How to make me cry out in a good way.

I miss you, Connor.

The early hour of the morning saw me pulling out gym gear. It was still cold out, so I wore a heavy jacket during my trudge across campus to get to the gymnasium. During my walk, I composed my next email to Connor. I thought about addressing the gap in communication. We had furiously written to each other nearly every day the first year in. I knew the slowdown would happen; I knew that, but I didn’t think it would hit me this hard. I thought about Connor every second of every day. Seeing an email come in from him filled me with a joy I never knew how to describe.

Once-a-day emails turned into every other day. Then twice a week. Then once a week. I got it, I understood. He was fighting in a war overseas. I knew that. I understood that. My classes started getting more difficult during my sophomore year, too. Biology and anatomy courses were killing me. With studying and the gymnastic program, I didn’t have a lot of personal time, especially for those long-form emails.

I’ll write him tonight, I decided as I yanked open the side entrance door to the gymnasium.I’ll tell him that I don’t like how we’ve lost touch.Yes. I could see it. Nothing overly long or dramatic. Vanilla, of course, in case someone other than Connor saw the words. I had read all about ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ and how far he could push things.

I walked on the outside perimeter of the tumbling mats at the center of the gymnasium. My eyes caught sight of the rings where one of my teammates had taken a Polaroid of me that I snail-mailed to Connor. He had written back with my favorite picture and gushed at how perfect I looked. I must have reread it a hundred times. Gave myself permission to let my fantasies run wild in the shower while thinking of him.

I distinctly remember thinking that he loved me when I read that letter. He used to draw (terribly) hearts before signing his name. Connor code, I had come to call it. Reading between the lines for someone who loved to speak his mind.

My coach came in from another side door while struggling to hold two cups of coffee. Dunks’ coffee, naturally. People in New England were obsessed with that place and I never quite understood why. I helped get the door open and he thanked me.

Patrick, my coach, was the same below-average height as me, with a head of thick black hair that just started to gray at the temples. A five o’clock shadow covered his face, his eyes a little bloodshot. He smelled faintly of booze, as if he drank too much the night before.

“Well, that was a hassle,” Patrick said. “Got you a coffee. Not sure what you drink, so I went for the sweetest option possible.”

I snickered. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t drink a lot of coffee?”

He looked dejected. “Oh, I figured all college kids drink this stuff. I can…?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll drink it. Thank you.” He offered me the drink from his left hand and I accepted the Styrofoam cup. I popped the perforated opening for the lid and took a careful sip. Absurdly sweet, almost tangy.

“Too sweet,” Patrick said conclusively. “Well, I’ll know better next time. All right, let’s get into my office. I think you’re gonna like what we need to talk about.”

I followed him to the back of the gymnasium, down a back hall, and to his office. The space held two tall filing cabinets, no windows, and a metal desk with two folding chairs in front of it. His computer, a behemoth of old technology with a monitor the size of a cat’s litter box. A stack of papers sat on his desk and he circled around it, set his coffee down, and sorted through the stack.

I sat down. Took another sip of my coffee. Second one was better. Not as sweet.

He blew out air. “Okay. I’ve been making calls to a few of the other colleges around.” He held up his hands before I could interrupt him. “Better schools, Bennett. All with scholarships. I think you have the stuff to get back into the top tier. You are fully healed from the accident. Your knees don’t shake. You aresolidon the horse. And your tumbling is the best I’ve seen in the past five years.”

I took a third sip. It was… not as sweet. Stale? I couldn’t pin the flavor. “I really wanted to focus on my degree. Any shot I had at nationals is gone. I didn’t think pursuing any of this would be worth my time.”

He nodded, as if he had considered this already. “Therein lies the beauty. These schools have better programs for your pre-med degree.Waybetter than this school. And the athletic scholarship doesn’t require you tobend over backward.” He laughed at his own joke.

A sense of nervousness crept up inside me. I would want to talk to my father about it. Good ol’ Walt. He could guide me on what I needed to do. To hide my nerves, I kept taking sips of the coffee. My stomach groaned, maybe from the sudden oversaturation of sugar and cream.

What would Connor do? I found myself thinking the more Patrick spoke on the logistics.Tell me to quit. To go and live with him in that stupid big house of his.I smiled at the thought of Connor and me living together. The man was not tidy or clean in any sense of the word. I had been in his room a few times and I think I saw more dirty clothes on the floor than the actual carpet. We put that workout bench in there to good use, though.

My smile grew as my head got all swimmy. Why was I suddenly so happy? I wanted to keep thinking of Connor.

“Bennett?” Patrick asked.

I didn’t answer.

Couldn’t answer.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com