I am grateful for the explanation. I didn’t know it, but I’ve waited for the truth about why we broke up for a long time. Now, it is out there. I have closure.
He’s waiting for me to come to him. To forgive him and say that I love him and that everything’s going to be okay. His arms are to his sides. He’s shown me all of his cards. I know that he’s telling the truth, but something’s holding me back.
“I love you, Alice,” he says. It’s his last attempt.
“I love you, too,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry. But I just can’t.”
Tears cloud my eyes. A large one breaks free and rolls down my cheek. My throat aches from sorrow.
4
It’s finals week. Where did the time go? Halloween and Thanksgiving were a blur. I went home for Thanksgiving, but I hardly remember any of it. Thankfully, my finals are spread out and aren’t stacked up like Dylan’s and Hudson’s. I don’t have any double final days and have at least a day to study for the next one. It could be worse, of course, but it could also be better. I look at Juliet. She’s practicing breathing for her breathing class. I wish I had a breathing test instead of three final papers.
I haven’t talked to Hudson for a couple days except for a brief, “Hello, how are you?” The more time goes by, the stronger I feel that my decision is the right one. I can’t even begin to express how nice it was to be with him again, but life isn’t just about what happens in bed. It’s more than that and despite what he says, I’m not entirely sure this isn’t some sort of freaking out moment for him. Maybe he took the breakup with Tea harder than he’d thought. Maybe he’s upset about losing all that money. Either way, he’s not in the right state of mind to make a decision as big as this one. I’m sure he’s just confused. I’m pretty sure. Then that voice in the back of my head stirs up. I don’t want to hear it but it’s there. What if he’s right? What if he just wants to be with me and all those other things just happened to happen at the same time?
American Lit is my first final of the year. Many people finish early, but I write practically every thought I have in the little blue notebook. I write until my hand cramps, un-cramps, and cramps again. I go through two notebooks, but finally get every last bit of knowledge that I have about The Invisible Man, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Catcher in the Rye onto paper. Tea and I are the last people to finish. I follow her out of the classroom. She looks tired and worn out. It’s the first day of finals. I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror, but I know that she looks a lot better than I do. She’s at least wearing jeans and a proper sweater. Whilst I’m dressed in the same sweats that I’ve slept in.
“How do you think that went?” I ask.
“As best as it could’ve.” She gives me a weak smile.
“Yeah, I feel the same way,” I commiserate with her.
“Hey, listen, I heard about you and Hudson. Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” She nods. “He just wasn’t all there. I don’t think we were ever right for each other.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. I’m trying to find out what happened. As if more details are going to give me a better understanding about my own decision.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “He never really wanted to be with me. He said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I should’ve listened to him. He was telling the truth. I just couldn’t see it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s the only thing I can say.
“It’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. You know what’s funny? After it was over, after I broke up with him, I thought I would feel terrible, but I didn’t. I felt relieved. So, I guess that was the right decision.”
“Yeah, seems like it.”
We say our goodbyes. Give each other a warm hug.
“Have a wonderful Christmas,” she says.
“You, too,” I say. “And don’t forget to let me read your book when you’re done. I know it’s going to be amazing.”
“You’ll be the first.” Tea smiles.
When I get back to my room, all I want to do is plop down on the bed and listen to an unhealthy amount of Adele. Someone on our floor is blasting Christmas music, and though I hate to admit it, it puts me in the holiday spirit. I only have two more finals. Then I’m done. First semester of college finished. I can’t wait to be free.
I grab a can of soda out of the refrigerator before heading to my room. I’m about to walk in when something on the dry erase board outside on our door catches my attention.
Can we erase everything and start all over again? – Hudson
I read the words carefully, to make sure that I’m not dreaming.
I feel him come out of his room and stop right behind me.
“Hudson, what are you doing?” I ask. “I thought we’d gone over this.”
“I know we did, but the thing is that I don’t think you believe me. I think you think that I want you back because of Tea or losing all that money. I don’t. I want you back because I’m an idiot. I just realized that I never really stopped loving you and I never will.”
I clutch my bag. He doesn’t shift his weight from one foot to another, the way he usually does when he’s nervous or uncomfortable. Instead, Hudson stands up straight, his eyes fixed on mine. At this moment, not even an earthquake can break him away from me.
“I love you, too, Hudson.”
“So, what is it? Do you not believe me?”
“No, I do believe you.”
“So, why can’t we be together?” he asks.
“Because I’m afraid.” I take a deep breath. “I’m afraid of going through all this again, Hudson. Getting over you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And, honestly, I don’t think I can do it again. I’m sorry.”
I go into my room and close the door. I want to be with him more than anything. I want him to take me into his arms, tell me that everything’s going to be okay. I want to believe him, but I now know that this requires a big leap of faith. The kind of leap of faith that I’m not sure I’m capable of. Not now. There’s something else. There’s a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that this burning desire to be with me might blow over after finals. I hope I’m wrong. I just can’t know. Either way, I can’t think about this anymore. I have two more finals to worry about.
5
Two sleepless days later, I’m finally done with the semester. When I come back home, I find Juliet tossing all of her notebooks and papers from the semester into the trash.
“You’re getting rid of everything already?” I ask.
“ASAP. I’m done!”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I say. I’ve never been one to throw away all of my notebooks, not even in high school where this was practically the ritual every June.
“What if you need to review something later on?” I ask.
“Why would I need to do that?” she asks. “Finals are over!”
I don’t have a good answer. I want my academic life from this semester out of sight as well, but I opt to drop all the papers into the bottom drawer of my desk.