I might have essentially blackmailed her into meeting me, but I had no intention of leveraging the fact that I had her device to keep her here. If she stayed, I wanted it to be of her own volition.
I didn’t know what to think about her using my birthday as her passcode all these years. Either she was an extremely lazy, and unimaginative creature of habit, or…? Or what? Although she’d walked away from me without a backward glance, and hadn’t been in touch with me in any way shape or form since, she still thought of me every day when she powered up her tablet?
Maybe I was reading too much into it. After all, she hadn’t actually even said she had kept the code. I had just inferred it from her silence. However, despite my bluff to the contrary, I hadn’t tried it, so I would never know. Though thinking about it, the ‘logic’ of that would be the same as inferring that she still loved me from the fact that she ghosted me and never looked back. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that by its very nature, nothing can be inferred from silence.
Mel sat. I reclined in my seat once again, arms folded across my chest, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. More silence. I glanced at my watch and quirked my eyebrow pointedly in her direction. I had all day—one of the beauties of being the boss—but I guessed she didn’t, and if we were going to do this thing, I didn’t want to risk running out of time.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly, clearly about to start speaking, and because timing is a bitch, our server chose that exact moment to approach the table to take Mel’s order. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kill someone more. As soon as she had Mel’s request noted, I shot her a look that no doubt conveyed my less than gentlemanly thoughts, and she scuttled away as though she genuinely believed I might carry out my unspoken threat. I made a mental note to leave her an extra generous tip.
Now it was Mel’s turn to raise her eyebrow at me, silently reprimanding me for acting like a punk. I refrained from shrugging again, outwardly at least.
“Hi.” She sounded a little hoarse, as though she was out of practice speaking.
“Hi.” I didn’t sound much fresher.
Still the silence stretched between us, like an empty road cutting through the desert. Mel closed her eyes and took three slow, deep breaths before opening them again and fixing me with a steady gaze. Her eyes. Those eyes I had been seeing in my waking dreams for twelve years. Their rich dark tones reminded me of fall, of youth, and of falling in love. They reminded me of what I’d once had, and what I’d lost.
“Leaving Allentown, I mean, leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Her voice was low—especially amid the animated chatter in the crowded café—but firm too. This wasn’t easy for her, yet she was unwavering.
“Then why did you?” It wasn’t an accusation, but a genuine question. I needed to know, and more to the point, after all these years, I deserved to know. She blinked rapidly, and although clearly finding the situation difficult, persevered.
“I had no choice.” It sounded so simple, yet I knew it was anything but.
“We always have choices. You made a choice that impacted me for the rest of my life.” That was definitely an accusation.
“You’re right, but I was young, and although I looked and seemed like any other kid, my family life wasn’t normal at all. You knew some of it, but nowhere near all of it, and most people knew none of it. I was an army brat who had spent all her life moving from place to place. No solid roots, no long-term best friend. No shared history. It was socially isolating, but I know now that that’s how my father wanted it. The more we moved from place to place, the more he was able to assert control over my mother and I.” She paused momentarily, staring at the age-worn table as though it would give her the strength to continue.
“I found out years later that instead of being completely unlucky to always be transferred out after such a short time stationed somewhere, my dad was actively seeking opportunities to move. If there was even a suggestion of being posted elsewhere, he’d be the first to put his hand up, on some occasions even requesting a transfer where none was being offered.
“It worked like a charm too, until we moved to Allentown. By that time, I was sick of always being the new girl. Sick of reintroducing myself. Sick of explaining myself. Sick of trying to work out how I’d need to reinvent myself to have any kind of chance of fitting in at another new school.
I was especially sick of being suddenly wrenched away from a place just when I was starting to fit in, to feel at home, to form bonds and make friends; only to have to start the whole process again someplace else. I was done.”
She paused, wringing her hands nervously. As though it was the most natural thing in the world, and before I knew what I was doing, or could stop myself, I reached across the scarred surface of the ancient desk, covering her hands with mine. Except it wasn’t the most natural thing. It might have been at one time, but not now.
Mel jumped back at the contact, attempting to snatch her hands away, but I clamped mine down, not hard enough to keep hers there if she didn’t want to, but enough to suggest that she should. She did. Relief and an unnamed emotion swept through me as I squeezed gently again, urging her to continue.
“It was junior year. Everyone’s friendships were well past formed, so I decided not to even try. By that point it was all too hard, and I was way too tired. I figured even if people hated me, or called me a freak, or just plain acted as though I didn’t exist, as had happened countless times before, then I wouldn’t have to put up with it for long anyway. With just over a year and a half to go, I was sure we’d have at least one more move before I graduated.”
Our server brought Mel’s coffee—some kind of twee hipster bullshit with added unicorn pee, and rainbow sprinkles—and inquired about food. I ordered the pancakes without even consulting the menu just to get her to go the fuck away. Mel stared after her retreating back for a few long beats before slowly dragging her eyes back to mine. I waited.
“Basically, by that point, I had zero fucks to give, you know? I figured I’d just turn up, do me, and whoever didn’t like it, that was on them. I was past caring. I got there, and refused to even approach anyone to find out where the hell any of my classes were.”
“Thank God for your stubborn head, otherwise maybe I would never have found you wandering the halls close to tears, looking for your Chem. class.”
I smiled at the memory. I’d had a hall pass to use the bathroom, but instead of going directly there, I stood like a statue, trying not to pee myself—figuratively, and literally, watching the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. She looked so lost, and utterly desolate. Once I’d picked my heart up off the floor, and some the blood that had instantly rushed to my dick had returned to my other extremities, and more importantly, to my brain, I approached her.
“If it wasn’t for you, I would probably still be walking those halls now, haunting them like a ghost.” I almost wish you were still there. Instead you’ve been haunting my dreams.
“As rude as you were to me, maybe I should have left you there, anyway.” There was no way in hell I could have.
“I mean, as far as opening lines go, ‘What the fuck are you gawking at?’ is memorable for all the wrong reasons.” I vividly remembered being completely taken aback by her confidence and directness, and just generally at being spoken to that way.