I’m racking my brain, wondering why she’s bringing this shit up now. Is she trying to ease me off because she’s met someone? Maybe it’s a guy from one of her classes? The thought worms its way inside of me and spreads like acid through my limbs.
“Trust me, Aimee. I still have a life and I can always find time for stuff,” I say, knowing that I sound like a real dick. That’s fine because I am a dick. I always have been. “But that’s not why I need to get home tonight. I need actual sleep because I’ve got a fucking early practice in the morning. Plus, I still need to pack because we leave tomorrow around lunch for that race up in Gainesville.”
This weekend is the triathlon that Quentin, Brady, Nate and I have been training for. I’ve been dreading it. Not because of the race—I love the rush and the adrenaline. The truth is that I haven’t been looking forward to so many days away from Aimee. And in light of the way that tonight is going, how fucking pathetic is that?
Aimee’s face is unflinching. She doesn’t wish me luck, or tell me that she’ll miss our movie nights. All she says is, “Oh.”
That one word—that one gimpy sentiment digs its way under my skin and stays there.
“Yeah, I would have asked you to come because we’re going to be going out afterward, but you don’t drive, do you?” Fuck. It’s like I’ve just jumped out of a plane without a parachute. I know that she doesn’t like to talk about this stuff and that I’m being a total bastard on purpose.
I know some of the facts but that doesn’t mean that I know the story. Daniel won’t answer my questions and Aimee sure as hell doesn’t want to talk. And up until this point, I haven’t forced any of the thousand and one questions going through my head. I’ve been happy to live in each moment—one after the other—like there’s nothing behind us, and nothing in front of us because I’ve been thinking… I don’t even know what I’ve been thinking.
I keep looking hard and Aimee tugs self-consciously on her hair. Her bottom lip is lost between her teeth. I should let it go, but I can’t stop myself. “Why don’t you drive, Aimee? Tell me. Is it about the accident last year because I looked up an article online and you weren’t even driving, were you?”
We’ve spent all this time together and I know so many things about her that I could fill up an entire book, but I don’t know any of the important stuff. I know that she prefers cherry pie to peach pie, and that her relationship with her mother is crap, and that she’s more of a dog person than a cat person, and that British humor makes her laugh, but those aren’t all of the pieces to the puzzle. Not by a long shot.
Aimee’s eyes are so wide and shiny it’s almost like they’ve taken over the rest of her face. Finally, she whispers so low that I barely hear her, “I don’t want to tell you.”
I’d been prepared for her to blow me off so it’s not like I’m knocked off my feet or anything. “Yeah fine,” I say stiffly. This conversation really couldn’t have gone worse. I’m tired and now I feel like everything is fucked. “That’s what I figured.”
“Cole, I—”
I put my hand up to cut her off. “You don’t have to explain. Let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”
Aimee is sitting up now. She lifts her hand to my shoulder and lets it slip all of the way down my arm until her fingers are wrapped tightly around mine. My breath hitches imperceptibly and it takes everything I have not to squeeze back.
“I don’t want to tell you,” she’s stumbling over the words, “because I’m afraid that when I do, you won’t understand and this whole thing will be over.”
“What the hell does that mean, Aimee?”
She is still looking at me, holding my hand, and I’m struggling to remember why I got mad in the first place.
“I don’t know how to explain, but will you just give me a little more time? I don’t want you to go anywhere just yet,” she says, her face clouding over.
“What are you talking about?” I sit down on the edge of the bed and pull her hand into my lap. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t say that.” She closes her eyes and I think it’s to keep from crying. “That’s what everyone says.”
Aimee
It turns out that I am not as tough as I proclaimed earlier and horror movies might not be my thing after all. I feebly tell Cole this and he ends up staying over. He actually seems pleased to be thrown into the role of my protector. Maybe it’s an alpha male thing.