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I still thought about Bryce all the time, but it was becoming less and less painful. Unfortunately, no other guy caught my attention either. But that was okay. I enjoyed the new friends and my college experiences so far.
Seven weeks after I left home, my mom called and broke the news that Holli had lost the baby at thirteen weeks. All of the Randolph family, including Bryce, was devastated. I sent a sympathy card to everyone, and even included a separate note to Holli. I learned she was staying at Bryce’s parents house for a week to recover.
Bryce sent me a very nice text thanking me for my kindness, and I didn’t hear from him for months. It was easy to avoid going home the entire semester since it was football season. My parents and Nate flew into a few of the games and we spent the weekends in Virginia. When I learned he and Holli planned on spending the entire holiday season in Nashville, I begged my mom to plan a family trip away. It had been seven months since I’d seen him, but I still wasn’t ready.
My parents thought it was a great idea and so we started the tradition of going to a ski town to celebrate together. With creative planning and the help of my mom and Quinn, I have successfully been able to avoid any situations that would require being around the Randolph family and Holli. In the last year and a half, I’ve been home a total of fifteen days and stayed incognito. Sheila and Dave, Bryce’s dad, noticed my absence but my parents are brilliant covering for me. Yes, even my dad knows the truth about my devastating crush on Bryce.
Nate never mentions Holli, which I’m thankful for. I prefer not to hear about her at all. Bryce has contacted me a few times via text, email, and even a few voice messages. Instead of calling back, I always reply with the same answer.
‘Hey Bryce! Nice to hear from you. Hope you are well. Things are great with me. Super busy. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!’
This always seemed safe since it acknowledged his message. Confirmed I was okay. And mentioned I was busy.
So today the message ‘We need to talk.’ Catches me off guard. What do we need to talk about? Curiosity gets the best of me and I type a reply.
Me: Why? Is everything okay?
Bryce: We need to talk.
Me: IS NATE OKAY????????
Fear washes over me for a brief second, but my parents would have called if there was a problem.
Bryce: Nate is fine. You’ve been dodging my ass forever. Now I hear you aren’t coming home for Christmas—again. SO as I said, we need to talk.
My mind goes into defense mode and I need to shut this down. He doesn’t get to decide when we talk. What is there to say? We were friends and I’ve been a shitty friend, but he has a fiancée. What the hell does he need with me? He broke my heart, I don’t owe him an explanation and vice versa.
Me: I haven’t been dodging you at all. It’s nice to hear from you. I hope you are doing well. I’m still super busy, as a matter of fact, sitting in class now. Yep, going out of town for family trip over holidays. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!
Bryce: GODDAMMIT, Devon! Cut the bullshit. Either you call me or else. I mean it. I’ve put up with this for too long. You have to let me explain.
Silence
Bryce: Devon! I know you’re there. I can see when the message is delivered. Answer me.
Silence
Bryce: I’ll give you two days.
Luckily my professor comes in and starts the class. I turn off my phone after sending Quinn an SOS message.
Me: Tequila and limes for dinner.
~~~~~
Ugh—I feel like shit. I skipped my class this morning and now Quinn’s driving us to D.C. to chase series of protests we found online. She watched as I drank myself into oblivion last night, dissecting every text from Bryce. At one point she called Nate, and he tried to talk me into at least listening to Bryce, but I shut him down. He acted really weird about the whole thing. I figured it was because they were still best friends. Little sisters and best friends never mix. I’d learned my lesson.
“Let’s make sure we get the protesters outside the White House. I have an idea,” I tell Quinn as she parks.
“You got it,” she agrees.
We go in different directions, making plans to meet in three hours. I trudged along the back of the park, still cursing my hangover and the man who I couldn’t get out of my mind.
Once I pass the first alley, I stop and turn back. There’s a very petite lady and two small children sitting in a huddle. She holds the small children as they cry. They look at me uncomfortably as I approach.
I explain I’m a college student taking pictures for a project and they instantly relax. Over the next hour, I listen to her story of fear and uncertainty and I know—I have the story for my World Journalism paper. I only leave them to go to the protest and take pictures for Quinn’s piece.
On our way home, we talk non-stop about our different experiences. She found her angle and I found mine. And for a brief moment I think about how proud Nate and Bryce would be. But I let it go… This is my life now.
