We made vague plans on two different occasions, the first she was to come home early one Friday after class, but instead she was called for a job at a coffee shop she'd been hoping for. While we’d been looking forward to Auburn being home over the holidays between semesters, her new job shot that plan to shit.
And so we continued.
I began to wonder how I would ever give her her Christmas present, the book shelf. I’d lovingly repaired it, and it now sat empty in my bedroom. I refused to use it, so I waited until I could give it to her. Show her the love I had poured into this bookshelf, piece by piece.
Christmas week approached and Auburn texted that she wouldn’t be home until Christmas Eve, and had to be back to work the day after Christmas. Again, we were left with so little time. It was hopeless.
I resolved to speak to the superintendent after Christmas, but before winter classes resumed. I didn’t know what I would say, which meant I had only one choice, to be honest. I would explain to him that I’d fallen in love with a former student. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I'd thought. Maybe he’d smile and pat me on the back and send me on my way, without disapproving looks or lectures.
I flipped over in bed and hovered over Auburn's name on my phone. I wanted to text her, every cell in my body itched for my fingers to tap out those three words that had been floating in my mind for so long now.
I love you. I typed, hovering over send. I considered taking the coward's way out and replacing the word 'love' with a heart emoticon. Instead I deleted the entire message and typed:
I have something for you.
I lay awake for an hour, phone on my chest, waiting for the familiar vibration of her reply. It never came.
twenty-five
I drove the hour home from my sister's house late Christmas night, anxious to change, pull the bookshelf out, and call Auburn. I had told her no promises, but that I would call her if I got back into town early enough. And for once, everything seemed to fall into place for us. My parents were staying with my sister and I'd managed to duck out at a decent time to get home.
Powdery sugar breezed across the icy road, swirling tornadoes of white across my low beams. I frowned and hoped Auburn wouldn’t have trouble driving in it when she came over. When I reached my apartment, I hustled up the back steps and kicked off my shoes. I stripped and tossed my clothes on the closet floor and pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I pulled the bookcase into the living room, right in the center so she couldn’t miss it, and placed first editions of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Whitman on their sides on the center shelf. I pushed a hand through my wayward dirty blond strands, not used to having to style my hair after the shorter cut I'd usually worn, and sucked in a deep breath.
Come to my place. I typed.
Her reply was almost instant. I’m on my way.
I wanted us back. I was ready to tell her everything. Open up, tell her all the secrets I’d kept, even from myself. I wanted her. I wanted a life with her and her alone, and I was ready to take the next steps. I was so ready to finally unload everything.
I finally had a plan, and it included us.
She knocked fifteen minutes later. I set down the opened bottle of wine I’d bought, her favorite, and hurried to the door. I opened it, ready to feast my eyes on the girl I loved, the girl I’d laughed and smiled and held all summer. Instead I saw a shell.
Her eyes were hollow, dark circles where creamy skin once was. Her already high cheekbones more prominent than they'd ever been. She smiled softly, stepped in, and shrugged off her coat.
“Jesus.” I breathed as I took it from her. “Auburn, what happened?” My hands slipped to her waist, fisting at her now protruding hipbones.
“I've been so busy with classes and that job, another girl quit and they asked me to pick up her shifts. I haven’t been sleeping...” She wiped at her eyes.
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”
She crossed her arms, lips pulled taut, before water filled her eyes and flowed down her cheeks in uncontrollable rivers.
“Fuck, Auburn, tell me what’s going on.” I held her sobbing face in my palms as my heart fell on the floor at my feet.
“You! It’s you! I can’t stop thinking about you! I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I just work and study! I haven't even been reading! This?” She pressed her palms to her face, fresh tears coming. “This isn't me! I won't be the girl that sneaks into her boyfriend's house in the middle of the night sobbing!” She crumbled in on herself. “I don't know who I am anymore,” she whimpered. I tried to hold her, killing myself inside for what’d I’d done. I’d neglected my love for her, and she’d become a shell of the bright and vibrant girl she was.