I really do love this woman, I think. I’d do this for the rest of my life with her if I could.
But Yeats was right.
She’s got her life to live and I’m not going to step in the way of that.
No matter how mind blowing sex with her is.
And no matter how much I might love her.
The next day, after baseball practice, I’m feeling morose.
The day couldn’t be more beautiful. It’s seventy and sunny, so I head out to the track and sit on the bleachers to unwind. The track team is wrapping up today’s practice.
It’s no mystery why I’m feeling this way as I watch the runners practice baton handoffs.
What goes up, must come down.
I’ve been on a high since Sky and I began our little adventure. They say love is a drug and now I get why. When I don’t see her I miss her like crazy, and when we do get together now, every time feels like it could be the last.
As I’m sitting and thinking, Grant Taylor, one of our freshmen pitchers and guys who is rushing our fraternity, spots me and saddles up on the bleachers next to me.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Shit, these are the days we dream about during the winter,” he says.
“Gorgeous,” I say, but even I recognize my voice sounds robotic.
Grant scrunches up his face immediately. His campus nickname is Shaman Grant. He refuses to go on any social media, and he picks up on people’s moods faster than anyone I’ve ever met. He might be nineteen but he comes across as much, much wiser than his age.
“The fuck is going on with you, man?” he asks.
I shrug. “Senior year blues. I kind of like this place. I don’t know if I’m ready to go.”
Grant nods thoughtfully. “You’ve been saying that since the outset of this year. ‘Savor the flavor.’ That’s what you always say.”
“I do say that. And I have savored the flavor. But time waits for no man.”
“You really are going to miss this place that much? You’re going to be drafted in the first round and play in the majors, man.”
I grin. Grant’s like a puppy dog with how enthusiastic he always is. “Just let me have this moment, you jackass. You’ve got three more years here, let me be jealous of you.”
Two girls run by on the track. Fit and wearing tight short shorts, Grant and I can’t help but check them out.
“Maya and Charlotte,” Grant says, nodding toward them. “Super cute girls. They’re going to be in my suite next year.”
I turn. “Seriously? You pumped about that?”
He shakes his head. “Gonna be awkward, man. I had a huge crush on Maya for a while, thought she was the coolest chick ever. And then I discovered I can’t stand her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s on her phone twenty-four seven. One of those girls who goes on Instagram when she’s at a bar hanging out with you.”
“That’s over the line for you?”
Grant nods. “She’s gorgeous though. I’m praying we don’t start trouble next year in our co-ed suite in the quads. What about you, are you worried about that?” Grant asks, keeping his eyes fixed on the track.
“Worried about getting into trouble?”
His face is serious. “Well, yeah. Worried about temptation? You’re married, and you’re about to be drafted in the first round. Many a great man has started a relationship with the best intentions. But you’re young to be getting married.”
“Oh, that.”
I almost forgot for a second that the world thinks I’m “married.”
“I mean you have to have considered it,” Grant says.
“I don’t even think about it. She’s…everything I need.”
My heart twists. Now I’m going to punk Grant here too, and he’s going to stop believing in love when we have our big blow up fight this Saturday.
“Jesus. You’re really in love. I can see it on your face.”
What is with everyone saying that to me?
First, Jennifer, and now Grant.
“Yeah man. You ever been in love?”
Grant grins, and he can’t keep his eyes off Maya as she comes around another turn with a baton. “I think I’m falling in love right now.”
“Thought you hated her because she can’t keep off social.”
“Well, two really big pros can outweigh a con. And those two long legs of hers are incredibly beautiful pros. Not to mention her personality, which is freaking amazing.”
I stand up. “I’m going to get a move on. Want to grab some dinner?”
“Nah, man, I’m fine. Going to sit back and enjoy this show…I mean this night. I’m savoring the flavor.”
“You do you, baby. See you Saturday.”
“Saturday?”
“Alpha Island party. Don’t miss it, man. It’s the best party of the year.”
“Oh right, the Alpha Island party. I won’t. Maybe Maya will be there.”
25
Skylar
Dear Mariah,
I’m emailing you to formally accept the Peace Corps volunteer post in Paraguay. Thank you for all of your help during the recruiting process. I look forward to being in the July cohort for the Education program.
Sincerely,
Skylar Houston
I stare at the message I’ve typed up. I have minimized then maximized the box about ten times this morning, hesitating to send it.
I’m twenty-two years old. This is a normal thing that college graduates do: go to the Peace Corps, or get into any job in a faraway city, really. This is what life is about. Taking chances and going to unknown lands, especially when you’re young.
So why won’t the knot in my stomach disappear no matter how I try to frame this situation?
I wished for this exact scenario in December, and I got exactly what I wanted: someone to grow with personally, someone who challenges me, someone who opens me up sexually.
Luke did all of that and so much more. And really, maybe I wouldn’t be doing the Peace Corps if it weren’t for his encouragement.
When I brought it up with Federico he would laugh at me. Silly girl, you want to live alone for two years without a man? Why would you do that?
I don’t expect any more from Luke than what he’s given me. The past five months, the glow of friendship and growth have trailed me. His optimistic outlook on life has rubbed off on me.
The way he desires me has probably corrupted me for life.
Seriously, will I ever date another man like him?
Well, no. No two people are alike in the world, so that’s a silly question. But the way he takes me like I’m his and his alone, it makes me feel a sort of love I never knew existed.
I get out of my desk chair, onto my bed and hug my pillow while I look out the window. It’s a bright shiny Saturday outside, and I feel so stressed I think I might implode.
I knew from the start this “relationship” had an end date. Christ, I’m the one who made sure Luke knew we couldn’t be truly serious. So why does it feel like once I leave, he’ll move on, I will too, and nothing will ever be the same between us?