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Page 4
"Don’t' be a dork, get up here," he says patting the passenger seat.
I groan before unbuckling my belt and bolting around the car to the front. Will is laughing at me as I practically dive into the front seat and buckle my belt. "Alright, let's go."
"You're crazy, you know that right?" He's shaking his head. "Possibly certifiable." He pronounces the t like tea.
I shrug. I don’t know why, but I feel weird about her seeing me in the front seat. It's like I stole her spot. Does not help that the seat is still warm. I'm skeeved out. Will doesn’t say anything as we drive to my house, just changes the station back to his favorite.
He starts to turn the music up but stops and looks at me. "How's your head?"
I inhale and spin my ring. "I kinda lied about my head hurting."
I look up at him, and he's grinning. "That's cool, I lied about my mom needing me."
I'm suspicious now. "And your cough?"
He laughs. What a liar, but I lied too so what does that say about me? I'm not surprised when Will gets out and follows me into my house once we get there. He practically lives here. My mom and dad are hanging out in the backyard with my Uncle Chip. Will and I wave at them as we go to camp out in the family room. Brian is already there watching the news. He's in college now and tries to act so grown up. He's three years older than me and goes to State. He thinks he wants to be a lawyer. All I know is, that is a lot more school than I'm interested in.
"Can we watch something interesting?" I grumble.
"This is interesting." He's dead serious.
Will and I just give him blank stares.
"Don’t you two even care that Social Security will probably be depleted by the time any of us need it?"
Will's mouth drops open, and I look at him "My room?"
He nods. We head back towards the kitchen since the stairs up to the bedrooms is on the other side of it. My Uncle Chip is in there and slips us each a beer. Will and I thank him before taking off to my room. He flops across my bed as I close the door behind us. My room is small, and it feels even smaller with Will in it. I sit at my desk, spinning the chair to face him as I open my beer.
"I'm going to call Jessica."
"Do you want some privacy?" I ask, getting up.
He smirks at me and shakes his head. "I'm breaking up with her."
I gasp. "I don’t want to be in the room while you do that."
"Why not? I thought you didn’t like her."
He's right. I should be all over this, but I just can't. Right now I feel bad for her, and even though she has totally done some pretty mean things to me in the past, it just doesn’t feel right.
"I just think you should have that conversation face to face. I think you would feel bad after the fact if you hurt her feelings."
He shakes his head, but I can tell he is thinking about what I said. "But her feelings are going to get hurt either way."
"I get that, but don’t you want to do what you can to make it not so bad?"
He sits up, opens his beer, and takes a deep swig before leaning back against my pillows. "I thought you didn’t like her."
I swivel my chair left and right. "I don’t like her, but I still think you should be nice to her." I will not admit how rotten those words feel coming out.
There were times I had dreamed about someone taking Jessica down a few pegs. I let Will think about what I've said while I drink my beer. He laughs when I burp.
I shrug, mumbling, "’Scuse me," before taking another swig. Beer always makes me burpy.
He finishes his beer and makes a basket with his can in my trash can. I jump up, almost dropping my beer. My trash can is right next to my desk, and metal.
"You suck." I walk over and hand him my beer. He finishes it for me as I sit on the other side of my bed. It follows his into the trash can with a bang.
"So are you still going to do it over the phone?"
He chews the side of his lip and shakes his head.
Chapter 5
Present
Will walks with me to baggage claim. It is almost poetic. He doesn’t have any checked luggage, only a small duffle-style carryon. As usual, I am the one with baggage both literal and figurative. As a frequent traveler, I normally don’t check luggage but given the length of this trip, it is necessary. I secretly have a thrill in being able to use the big rolling suitcase that came with my set for the first time. I love my suitcases. I travel so much I splurged on hard-shelled cherry red ones. We wait near the mouth of the belt. I sense myself wanting to lean into him. This is madness. I first off cannot believe he was on my flight and now the fact that we are standing here, together, right now. We quietly wait for the first bag to drop.
I see him check his watch. "I feel awful for keeping you. Why don’t you just go ahead? I can get a cab or figure out MARTA." There is no way I am riding the MARTA train, but maybe it will make Will think I know what I’m doing so he won’t feel obligated to give me a ride.
"Sarah." His blue eyes study me. "Don’t be silly. I'm not letting you get a cab."
"You're not letting me?"
He smirks at me.
"Fine, wait. Just don’t be so bossy."
All at once, I'm in a giant bear hug of his arms. What? God, his chest is absurdly solid, and he smells heavenly. His arms release me, and he grins. "I've really missed you, Sarah."
It is like a punch in the gut. Being here, Will, all of these emotions. I am trying my best to maintain some semblance of composure around him. I say nothing, eyes glued to the mouth of the conveyor belt and nod. I'm too shitless to look into his eyes right now. He is just too familiar. I'm tense. I wonder if I look like a crazy person, all bunched up in the shoulders, standing next to Will with his easy confidence. It must be so simple for him. He’s known how to command the attention of a room for as long as I've known him. I had the biggest crush on him during middle school and then high school and maybe now. Shit, don’t judge.
He had been so popular at our school, but what really got me was how down to earth he was. We were paired up in English for a project. Our class was assigned a book, and in pairs, we had to create a physical description of the book, write a written report, and give an oral presentation. I still remember the first time he called me. He must have gotten my telephone number out of the school directory. I was rendered mute and could not speak. He thought there was a bad connection, hung up, and called back. Locating my ability to speak the second time around, we made plans for him to come over and work on the project. I had been surprised he didn’t want me to go to his house. He seemed adamant about coming to mine.
I was embarrassed by my house and our belongings. I knew he lived in a really nice neighborhood. When he came over, he didn’t seem to think anything of it, though, and I stopped worrying about it. He rode his skateboard over every afternoon for a week while we worked on our project. While I didn’t feel weird about what he thought about my house by the end of the week, I was still nervous around him. He was so cute, and he always smelled good.
I would catch myself staring across the kitchen table at him, daydreaming about touching his hair. We hadn’t presented our project, but on the day we finished our work, I was almost certain he would never call or come over again. I had been stunned when he showed up the next day, just wanting to hang out. Our friendship grew from there. Will played lacrosse and basketball, but otherwise, he seemed to live at my house.
I had random friends, but Will became my best friend. The crank sound of the belt coming to life snaps me back to reality. My suitcase is unfortunately not one of the first out but tumbles down not long after. When Will sees me reach for it, he beats me to it, collecting it instead. Good ole Will. He refuses my attempt to pull my own suitcase, opting to instead place his duffle on top and pull them together. I can see the logic in it, but it still annoys me for some reason. I'm bothered that he seems to be acting like we haven’t missed a beat, like there hasn’t been seven years since that night. I follow him out to the p
arking deck. He slows his steps so we can walk side by side.
When we get to his car, I can’t help myself. "Another freaking Jetta?"
"They're good cars."
I lean against the side of it and watch him as he loads our luggage into the trunk. "Whatever. Can I press the button?"
He pauses. His eyes flick to mine. "Anytime, Miller Lite."
I wrinkle my nose at him. It seems not falling back into old habits would be harder than I thought. He opens up his duffle, and before I know it, click. My mouth drops, and he just shrugs. He had said on the plane a picture he took won an award. Even though everything else is so different, it is nice to know some things never change. Once we are both seated, I press the button to open the sunroof for old time's sake. As he drives, I am struck by how familiar, and at the same time different, our surroundings feel. We grew up in Decatur, a suburb of Atlanta. It was a beautiful place to grow up. We had four seasons, the crime rate was low, and the schools were good. For a town that was only four square miles, it had a lot going on. Will's neighborhood was much nicer than mine, but compared to the other areas around us, my house was all right.
Will watches me. "They closed the Denny's."
"Shut up." It had been my favorite place to eat. I have always been a breakfast-at-any-time-of-the-day kind of girl.
"Yep, and the Multiplex."
"God, that place was a dump even before I left. Do you have to drive all the way out to the mall now to see a movie?"
"The mall is gone."
"Now you're lying to me." I swat his shoulder. Yikes. It’s firm, probably should not have done that.
"No, I'm serious. They're going to build a new open-air one where it was."
I shake my head. "I don’t like those. Besides, it rains here too much. What a pain. So, since the mall is also gone, where do you go to the movies?"
"Asking me out?"
I give him a look.
He shrugs and continues. "A new place opened up just north of town. It's not far."
I nod. Do my memories of those places seem any less vivid now that the structures no longer exist? I feel almost sad for the kids that followed us and missed out. Will rambles, which is not like him, the rest of the drive, catching me up on seven years’ worth of gossip. I want to tell him I don’t care, that I avoid social networks for this reason, but I still love the sound of his voice. It would be silly to silence him. Plus, as he speaks, I become morbidly fascinated by what had become of our former classmates. There were deaths, marriages, divorces, and an unexpected sex change.
"Really?" It was my second really.
"Yep, ran into her at Wegman's."
"More power to her. Gotta do what makes you happy."
"Are you happy?"
"Christ, conversation whiplash."
"That was a dodge, Sarah."
I groan and start spinning my ring. He doesn’t get to know if I'm happy or not. That isn’t fair. I have made it through so much, all by myself, to get to where I am today. I shrug and look out my window. "I don’t think I'm unhappy. Is that close enough?"
He nods.
Let's see how he feels answering it. "So are you happy?"
He chews the corner of his lip. It's distracting, makes me stare at his mouth.
"I'm happy in some aspects of my life but unhappy in others."
"Talk about vague. So what are you doing about the parts that make you unhappy?"
"I'm working on it. I got you in my car again."
Jesus, what did that mean? I have no sane response to that so I drop it, racking my brain for something to say to change the subject.
He takes in my panicked expression. "I just meant that I've missed you in my life."
I missed him too. Most days, I do everything in my power to stay busy in the hope of not thinking about him. Seeing him, being in his car, this will clearly set me back years. When he pulls up to my house, he surprises me when he follows me to the front door after getting my things out of the car.
"Shouldn’t you probably be heading home?"
"Nah. I've got time."
Instead of waiting for me to knock, he opens the door and walks right in. I stand on the doorstep, shell-shocked for a beat before walking in after him. He's gone to the kitchen and is hugging my brother and kissing my mother on the cheek.
"What is going on here?' I ask.
"Sarah!" My family rushes to hug and kiss me.
Will leans against my parents’ kitchen counter. "Believe it or not, Sarah and I were on the same flight today. I gave her a lift home from the airport."
"What are the odds? How did the ceremony go?" Brian asks.
He picks up an apple from the basket behind him. "It was great. Thanks." He took a bite. He hadn’t even asked. What is he doing in my house?
"Seriously, what is going on here?" I ask again.
"What do you mean?" Brian looks at me strangely.
Will shrugs and keeps right on eating the apple. "He's eating an apple." I point at Will.
Now it's my mother's turn to stare at me. "So?"
Am I going crazy? "Well, why is he so comfortable in your house?"
Will pushes off of the counter, walking around me to throw the core away. "Just because you left doesn’t mean I did."
My mouth drops. "You kept coming over here after I moved away?"
My mother walks over to Will and puts her arm around his waist. "Of course he did. Will is like a second son to me."
"I didn’t know." I hate how small my voice sounds. I look back up at Will. "So you knew about the wedding?"
Brian laughs. "Shit. He’s my best man. He introduced me to Christine."
"Language, Brian." My mother flicks him with a dish towel.
I don’t know why I feel like crying. I press my lips tightly together and nod before hurrying off to my room. Will is hot on my heels. I hear my mom call out after us, but I continue up the stairs.
"Why didn’t you mention any of this" I make a jerky circle with my hand. "On the plane."
He shrugs. "The element of surprise, I guess."
"So how do you know Christine?"
"She's a math teacher at Renfroe."
I turn to face him and put my hand up on the door frame of my old room. "My brother is marrying a math teacher?"
Will just smirks at me, then nods.
I bend over, clutching my stomach laughing. "He," I say, trying to catch my breath, "hates math."
The look Will is now giving me can only read amused spectator of insane women. God, I feel like an idiot. I hurry the rest of the way into my room and make to shut the door in Will's face. It’s a feeble attempt that does not work, so I sigh dramatically and flop onto my bed face down.
"Are you about done yet?"
"With what?" I mumble into my pillow.
I feel the bed lower under his weight and raise my head to look at him.
"Your hissy fit."
I drop my head again. "Nope."
I have clearly been sucked back in time. I'm in my old room, and Will Price is sitting on my bed. Only the last time he was here, we were… I have to stop thinking about the past. I peek up at him, and he laughs but doesn't move. I don’t know why I'm so annoyed at him.
I lift my head further and rest my chin on my elbows. "So, on the plane, when you asked where I live and what I do. Did you already know?"
He shrugs. "Some."
I flip over on to my side, my back to him. The whole time I've been gone I just assumed he didn’t know where I was or how to get a hold of me. I had always hoped that if he did, he would come after me. Learning that he probably knew where I was the whole time hurt. It only confirmed my leaving after that night had been the right decision. Ugh, why couldn’t he just go away?
I stand, backing away from the bed. "I think I'm going to take a shower. You should go hang out with your buddy, the groom."
"I'm comfy."
My eyebrows come together as I glare at him. "Will, you can't stay in here when I take a show
er."
"Why not? I used to do it all the time."
"We were friends then." I snap.
He chews on the corner of his bottom lip then stands, walking over to me, pulling me to his chest. "You are still such a punk."
I hate how wonderful my traitorous body feels in his arms. All I want to do is wrap my arms around his neck and kiss the smirk off his face. Instead, in the spirit of self-preservation, I kick his shin. He drops his arms and allows me to push him out the door. I lock it behind him before leaning against it and sliding to the floor. I pluck at the weave of the carpet next to me. What am I going to do? He’s a groomsman. There goes pretending like he doesn’t exist. Coming home had been a bad idea. It is much easier to pretend like he never broke my heart if I don’t have to see him.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send Sawyer a recap text. I have to grin when I see her picture flashing on my phone moments later.
I don’t even say hello. "That's right. On my fucking plane."
"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."
I can picture her pacing.
"And he's the best man?"
I groan my response.
"Aw, honey. What are you going to do?"
"I have no fucking clue."
Chapter 6
Past
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. He’s single. Last week, Will Price had finally broken up with Jessica Burton. All of these years I had pined over him. Now is my chance to tell him how I feel. We had been friends since we met in Mrs. Hall's English class in seventh grade. Will had never seen me as anything other than a friend. He’s the cutest guy in our class. All of the girls want to go out with him, but he had been dating Jessica our entire senior year. I kind of hate her. She’s beautiful, her parents are rich, and everyone loves her. Or fears her. Same difference.
I am not beautiful, I’m cute. I don’t dress for attention like a lot of the girls at my school for a couple reasons. I am shy, and my parents didn’t have a ton of extra money. We do alright. There are kids who are worse off. You just won’t see me wearing designer anything because of it. I do have some cute stuff I bought myself, but I’m mainly a t-shirt and jeans girl. I put on some tinted lip gloss, smiling to make sure there isn’t any on my teeth. It might sound silly, but I am obsessed with my teeth. I got braces later than most of the kids in my class. My parents just had not been able to afford them earlier. I had also recently gotten contacts when my mom's health insurance changed to include a vision plan.