“But it wasn’t, Adam. I wanted you too,” Meg breathed, looking pained.
I kissed her hand again, needing to feel her. Scared she’d disappear. “I was a moronic seventeen-year-old boy who didn’t take being friend-zoned very well. And then I went to Lance Ridgeway’s party. You decided not to go because you and Skylar wanted to see that movie with the French subtitles. You were always doing other things. Hanging out with Skylar. Going shopping with Whitney. It felt as if you were pulling away slowly. I knew you were counting down the days until you left Southport. I felt like you were counting down the days until you left me.”
Meg frowned. “That’s ridiculous. I had a life, Adam. I had other friends. And I planned to go to school, but that didn’t mean I’d leave you behind.”
I lifted my hands in a gesture of acquiescence. “I know that now through the lens of a very mature twenty-something man.” Meg chuckled, appreciating the attempt at levity. “But I was a teenager. And teenagers aren’t known for their clear thought processes.”
“True enough,” Meg agreed, moving closer, our legs touching. Our hands clasped together. She was hearing me out. I felt like maybe we were turning the corner at last. Having sex was one thing; this was about airing our agonizing history and moving on.
I was desperate to have a future with this woman. I hadn’t realized how desperate until that moment.
“I wasn’t thinking about you when I was with Chelsea. There was not a single thing about her that reminded me of you, and at that time, I needed that. Because if I couldn’t have what my heart wanted, then I’d go for the complete opposite. I underestimated how mad you’d be, and I overestimated my ability to make you get over it.”
Meg didn’t smile. Her expression was blank. I couldn’t read her. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. So I kept going.“That night at Lance’s, I got drunk. Shitfaced drunk. You remember what an imbecile I was when I got wasted,” I pointed out.
Meg raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure much has changed in that regard.”
Was she joking?
“Chelsea was there. I found her crying on the back porch. I couldn’t leave her there like that, so I sat down beside her. We started talking. She told me her parents were getting a divorce. I put my arm around her, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing.”
Meg put her hand up. “Save me the details, please.”
I lowered her hand. “Hear me out.”
I could see she wanted to argue. She wanted to shut me down. It was a decade-long habit to block out any mention of Chelsea and me. Not for the first time did I truly understand how deep her hurt went. How badly I had damaged her.
I hated myself for it.
“Chelsea showed me a side of her that I had never seen before. I realize now that it was all a lie, but back then I thought that maybe we had simply misjudged her.”
“Misjudged her? Are you serious?” Meg snorted.
“She said she wanted to make things right with you. And the more time I spent with her, the more I let myself be manipulated. She had obviously learned from a young age how to get what she wanted from people, and for me, it was playing vulnerable. She saw my knight in shining armor complex a mile away. I was such a fool.”
“Not going to argue with you there,” Meg muttered.
I squeezed her hand. “I thought you’d forgive me, Meg. I really did. I thought that you didn’t want me and that our friendship was strong enough to withstand even Chelsea. I had no idea that even you had your limits.”
“So you thought I’d accept Chelsea as your girlfriend and we’d what? Hold hands and skip down the street? Even you couldn’t have been that naive,” Meg said incredulously.
“I knew you’d be angry, but I had no idea you’d hold it against me for the next ten years, Meg.” I found myself getting defensive. I tried to rein it in. “I thought our friendship was stronger than that.”
Meg’s eyes narrowed, and this time, she pulled her hand from mine. “And I thought I meant more to you than a roll in the sack.”
Touché.
“I realized my mistake almost immediately. That night at Homecoming, I saw your face when you found Chelsea and me together, and I knew.”I had been so wrapped up in Chelsea that I hadn’t heard Meg approach us. Her gasp was what caught my attention. I looked up, and there she was. Looking beautiful and devastated.
Her heart had been in her eyes. And then she ran.
It was only at that moment that I understood how monumentally I had screwed up.
“You didn’t follow me,” she accused.
“I did! I swear I went after you!” I exclaimed.
Meg ran down the hallway, pushing through the gymnasium doors.
I immediately started going after her. Chelsea grabbed my arm.
“Where are you going?” she asked, her nails digging into my arm.
“I have to talk to Meg. I have to make her understand.” My heart was racing. Everything had turned upside down. This was not how I imagined things going down. I should have known better.
“What about me, Adam?” Chelsea’s eyes filled with tears, and I felt horrible. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but right then, Meg mattered more. That should have been my first clue that Chelsea would always be a second choice.
I kissed Chelsea. “I’ll be back. I promise.”Then I turned and ran after my best friend.
I didn’t see her in the crowded gym. I found Kyle talking to some of our basketball buddies. I hurried over to him. “Web, have you seen Meg?” I panted, trying to get my breath.
Kyle gave me a funny look. “Everything okay? First Galloway flies out of here like a house on fire, and now you look like someone’s killed your cat. What gives?”
I didn’t have time to explain all the ways I had messed up tonight.“Tell me where she went, Webber. Now,” I all but shouted at him.
Kyle looked taken aback. “She left, man. With Skylar. You can probably catch her in the parking lot.”
She wasn’t in the parking lot. I got in my car and drove to her house. I knocked on the door, and when Whitney answered, I knew I didn’t have a chance in hell of seeing Meg.
“Go away, Adam,” Whitney ordered, her face stony. Whitney was scary when she wanted to be. I learned at an early age not to cross her.
“I need to speak to Meg,” I pleaded.
“You’ve done enough damage tonight. Just go. Maybe she’ll talk to you later.” Then she closed the door in my face.
I stood there for a few minutes, thinking about knocking again. Maybe I’d get Mrs. Galloway. I’d explain myself, beg her to see Meg.
But Whitney was right. I had done enough damage for one night.I’d fix it in the morning.
Meg would forgive me.
She always did.
“Whitney never told me you came by,” Meg said after a beat.
“She was pretty pissed at me. I’m not surprised she never told you.” This was harder than I thought it would be. Digging up the past was never an easy process.
“She had no right to keep it from me, though,” Meg murmured, seeming lost in thought.
“I tried talking to you so many times after that. Don’t you remember the football game? And before prom?” I asked.