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“I’ll head out, Stella, but I’ll be here. I’ll be here in this shit town we both always hated until you’re ready to talk to me. I’ll be here under the stars, waiting for you. And when you’re ready to talk to me,reallytalk, I’ll be here.”
And then I leave to give her the space she needs.
I give Stella time to collect her thoughts.
She told me over and over again she needs time, needs to think, to come to terms with things, and I bulldozed in, first by forcing her to be my friend again, then forging some kind of in-between because I miss her more than anything.
But she needs time.
When we argued at the diner, I knew she needed time. So I gave it to her. I left, told her to let me know when she was ready to talk, and I headed back to my dad’s house.
And waited.
And now it’s been nearly a week without any word from her. Instead of spending time with Stella like I want, I’m sitting with Reed, watching some old movie on the couch of my dad’s house, the same couch we had my entire childhood, stewing.
“Alright, it’s been long enough,” he says, finally pausing the movie.
“What the fuck man?” I ask, turning to him, ready to knock him out. My emotions are too close to the edge, my temper fire engine red, and this dumb fucking show is the only thing keeping me from absolutely losing my mind.
The sole distraction I have.
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is you just turned off my show.” He rolls his eyes like I’m a moron.
“Where’s Stella?” he asks, and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“At her place, I assume. Or at the diner.”
“Yeah, and you’re here moping around like a dipshit. Why aren’t we there instead of watching this stupid fucking movie?”
I don’t answer, instead averting my eyes until I find a loose thread on the seam of the couch, tugging until it snaps then rolling it between my fingers into a little ball. “Riggins,” he says, his voice firm. He might be the goofiest of us all, but he’s got this dad vibe that always means business.
“We got into a fight,” I say, my words low.
“You got into a fight? When?”
“Thursday.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Yeah, and she hasn’t reached out.”
“She hasn’t reached out?” he asks like he doesn’t understand.
“Yeah. She needs space, and I’m giving it to her. When she’s ready, she’ll talk to me.” Reed opens and closes his mouth once, twice, three times before cocking his head to the side, like he’s trying to understand what he’s seeing or what I’m saying, maybe.
“Okay, okay. Back it up really quick. What did you fight about?”
I sigh but know he won’t let it go until I explain, so I do, telling him about going to the diner, about her thinking I’m only in town because I’m out of inspiration and my pushing her to talk. I tell him about calling her broken and how I fucked up once again. “So yeah,” I say. “She told me to leave, so I did. Now I’m just giving her time.” Reed has remained quiet this entire time, silent despite the subtle change to his face, but finally, he speaks.
“You’re giving her time?” He asks it like I’m an idiot.
“That’s what she needs.”
“She’s had seven years of time, Riggins. Seven years that you didn’t chase her.”
“Can’t chase someone who doesn’t want to be chased, Reed. She wanted nothing to do with me that whole time.” It’s then that Reed laughs, a sad noise that twists something in my gut. Something I very much do not like. It’s like he knows something I don’t, and he can’t believe I don’t know it.
