"Maybe when? This is our last home game for weeks, and you’re not even willing to ask? It just makes me wonder…Am I your boyfriend or not? Because you’re my girlfriend, Jos, but you’re sure as hell not acting like it.”
Josie just stands there, frozen. Her mouth is open, but no words are coming out.
And me? It’s like once I’ve started telling her what’s on my mind, I can’t stop.
"You’re always busy. You never make time for me."
"I…I have a full class load and?—"
She’s starting to talk, but I’m not in the mood for excuses. "So do I, Jos. And I have hockey. And yet, I’m always the one left hanging when you get a phone call or have to go."
She looks down at the floor, and it’s obvious there’s something she’s not telling me. "I…have to go home a lot."
"Yeah, ok. And why? Just say it to me, Jos. Tell it to my face." My sluggish brain is finally putting all the pieces together—the quiet phone calls, the trips home, the refusal to talk about anything really personal. And now that my mind is making sense of it all, I realize that was a guy’s voice on the phone just now. It was muffled, but he sounded like he was probably our age. So, if it wasn’t an overprotective dad on the phone wondering when his daughter was getting on the road, then who the hell was it?
"You have some guy back home, don’t you? Some high school boyfriend you never got over? Let me guess, he has no clue about me, right? Just like I’m not supposed to know about him."
"No," she says quickly, her fingers worrying their way through a hole in her sweater. "That’s not it. There’s no b-boyfriend."
"Then what is it, Jos?" I plead, my frustration getting the better of me. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve been second best in the eyes of someone I cared about. My dad’s got a family in South Carolina—a wife and two kids. He’s never needed—or wanted—me or my mom. It’s like we were a trial run, or something, like there was a test we didn’t pass, so he left us behind and found what he was looking for. I’ve felt the sting of rejection before, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
"It’s…I…" she stammers, looking anywhere but right at me.
I step back, threading my hands through my hair. My curls are getting long and when I go home at Christmas, my mom will nag me about getting a haircut. Stupid me, I had visions of taking Josie home with me. I had a fucking picture in my head of her on the sofa with my mom, hanging out. God, I’m such a dumbass. Because based on the look Josie’s giving me right now, my version of a Merry Christmas isn’t gonna happen.
"Just say it, Josie."
Her cheeks are flushed and her hands are shaking. "It’s not what you think. Levi and I?—"
My laugh is bitter. "You and Levi? Who the hell is Levi?" Her eyes are shining and she opens her mouth and I can’t do it. I can’t stay and listen to her tell me all about some guy back home. "You know what? Nevermind, Josie. I don’t want to hear it."
I think I hear her calling for me, but I don’t turn around. My dad’s right, I guess: I’m pretty fucking stupid. She’s been half-in, half-out since we started this thing. I know we just got together, but isn’t that when couples are supposed to stick to each other like glue? I race down the steps and push the double doors open with a shove, but I don’t give a shit. Josie always had an excuse for why she couldn’t stay too long, or couldn’t talk.
The signs were there all along, but I couldn’t read them.
Big fucking surprise.
20
Van
Josie deserves the truth, even if giving it to her hurts like hell. I’ve been dreading this moment since tutoring started, but I can’t avoid it any longer. Lying to her last night was physically painful, so I’ve gotta come clean.
And that’s why I’m walking into her dorm on a Wednesday afternoon. What’s that called, when you feel like you’ve done something before? Deja vu? Whatever it is, I’ve got it right now. Three years ago, I did the same thing: showed up at her door unannounced, wanting to spend some time together.
Thankfully, I’m not the impatient, needy little shit I was freshman year.
I’m just gonna say what I came to say, give her the letter that’s been sitting in my sock drawer for way too long, and leave so she can drive back to Silver Creek and take care of her brothers and sisters, same as she does every Wednesday.
I knock on the door and a few seconds later, Josie calls, "It’s open."
She’s sitting at her desk, reading a book and taking notes. I’m guessing she’s expecting a friend, because she doesn’t even look up when I step inside. She just grabs a stack of books besideher and hands them over. "Here you go. Start with the red one. It’s the oldest brother’s story. It’s great, but book two, the green one? It’s my favorite."
"Not the purple one?" I ask, taking the books and setting them down on her nightstand. Her room is small—it’s a dorm room, after all, but it’s neat and cozy, like it’s half bedroom, half library. Yeah, that makes sense.
Josie looks up at me and blinks. "Van. Oh my gosh. I thought you were Ellie. She lives across the hall and wanted to borrow some books. The movies are coming out and she—Nevermind. What do you need?"
I rock back on my heels, because that’s a loaded question, so I go with the simplest answer. "I thought we could talk."
