“That’s awful.”
It was awful. Most of the time our fears come from within us, but she planted the seed that day. And every time I’m feeling low, I water it with thoughts about whether or not the best parts of my life are behind me.
“To be fair,” I say, “I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend there at the end. I let the recruiting game go to my head. I was so wrapped up in being the best athlete that I could be for her that I didn’t realize I was ignoring her in the process. I tried to fix it. God knows, I tried. I would have done anything, maybe even given up football, if she had shown even the slightest interest in giving me a second chance. But she didn’t. So I committed to Rusk, and tried to put it all behind me. And when I got here, I thought I was starting over. I hid my broken heart behind parties and jokes in the beginning because I wanted to make a good impression. No one likes that mopey guy who misses high school during freshman orientation. After a while it became second nature. And some days, it was almost like I’d never known Lina at all. In fact, I’d almost forgotten her completely.”
“Until you met me.”
“I—”
I don’t know what to say. Is it better to be honest? To lie? Either way makes me an asshole.
“The day we met, after I got hit with the Frisbee . . . you said I reminded you of someone. It was her? Wasn’t it?”
I don’t answer because words will only make this worse. And I wish my earlier joke about that disaster movie would come true, that some pipe would burst or there would be some freak flood, and a wall of water would come and just drown this all out.
“I think I’d like to leave now.”
She takes the flashlight out of my hand and walks past me, and for a few long moments I stay where I am. I let the light fade away. Her footsteps, too. And as silence moves in around me, I realize that what just happened was nothing like the fights I had with Lina. Our fights had been loud and aggressive, and they’d left me burning up. And when things with Lina had ended, I felt like I’d been at the center of some explosion, and all the pieces of me were scattered everywhere, and that everyone had to see it, see how broken I was. I was alive, but in pieces.
Fighting with Nell is like . . . it’s like drowning. And each word that pushed us further apart, each step she took, was another gulp of water into my lungs. And just like someone stuck underwater . . . I knew I should stop. I knew that each gulp was killing me, but I just couldn’t.
And now that she’s gone, I’m not in pieces. There was no explosion. No battered and bleeding pieces of me to hold together. No, I would almost prefer that there were.
Because she’s taken the last of the air with her, and inside now I’m as still as the dark tunnel around me, and just as lifeless and empty.
Chapter 25
Nell’s To-Do List
• Stop making to-do lists. They suck. A lot.
Between the time that Torres left my bed the morning after his concussion and his return later that evening . . . before everything fell apart, I’d added something to my list.
And I know I can cross it off because even though I hate him, even though the thought of him brings every doubt and insecurity roaring to life in my head . . . that damn fist around my heart still squeezes.
So I guess I can finally admit it. Late, though it is.
23. Fall in love.
Been there, done that, wish I had never written a single word of this stupid list. But I’m committed to it now, so I add yet another item.
24. Get my heart broken.
Then I cross them both off at the same time. Whoo-hoo life experience. Sure glad I have that now.
I knew this whole experiment would all go bad. There’s no way it couldn’t, not with me at the helm. God, I should have realized this sooner. I should have known that he and I wouldn’t fit together under normal circumstances. The only reason he ever looked twice at me was because of her.
There are still items on my list that I haven’t completed, but I feel like I’ve done my part. I’ve stepped outside of my comfort zone. I’ve taken risks. And I’ve paid for it.
And I was right all along.
I’m better off committed to my work. And now I’m going to graduate early. I’ve narrowed down my grad school choices to two programs, and I’ll be filling out those applications . . . soon. Anytime now. I’m going to do the things I always planned to do, and I’m never going to look back.
That’s the first lie I tell myself.
I’m no longer worried about my future. I know everything is going to work out.
That’s the second.
The next day, I lie when I tell Dylan (and myself) that I changed my mind. That Torres and I, while attracted to each other, just aren’t compatible.
I lie when she asks if I want to eat ice cream and watch chick flicks, and say instead that I need to work on grad school applications. Then, when she’s gone, I break out my sweatpants and the ice cream and settle down on the couch to watch a special on the Discovery Channel about lions hunting their prey. (Okay . . . so I wasn’t lying about the chick flicks, but all the rest of it . . . )
It’s a lie each time I go to bed and promise I won’t think of him.
It’s a lie each time I wake up and convince myself that he was absolutely not the first thing on my mind.
It’s a lie that I’m not disintegrating with worry the night before the football game thinking about all the things that could go wrong, the ways he could be hit, how it could affect him.
I don’t care.
I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.