The corner of my mouth ticked up, even though it felt like there was a knife in my chest. We used to be just friends. I pictured her laughing at Empire High and always stealing my fries in thecafeteria. I hadn’t noticed her back then. Not really. I hadn’t thanked her for holding me together after Brooklyn passed away. She’d been there for me in more ways than I ever realized. She was the only one that understood my pain. She just got me.
And she needed to let me in. Because I wanted to be there for her too. I wanted her to count on me. Her acts of kindness were innocent back then. Taking care of her best friend’s grieving fiancé. But I wasn’t standing here innocently. I wanted everything with her. If this was a guilt thing, she was crazy. She’d always been a good friend to Brooklyn, even if she didn’t see it.
“I have an idea,” I said. “Those fries are probably cold. How about I take you out for some warm ones and you can tell me what happened after I sent you all those eggplant emojis in that text.”
“That sounds…” She closed her eyes. “…Perfect. Which is why I’m declining the offer.”
She wasn’t making any sense.
She slowly opened her eyes again. “Goodnight, Matt.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“Kennedy. I’m not giving up on us.”
“There is no us, Matt.” A stray tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped it away like she was angry with herself.
“Yes there is. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Brooklyn would have wanted both of us to be happy. I’m sure of it.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
That wasn’t very encouraging. She hadn’t confirmed it exactly, but by the expression on her face it did seem like the Brooklyn thing was at least partially to blame for her sudden shift of perspective. Why wouldn’t she believe me when I told her that Brooklyn would be happy for us? I truly did believe that. She’d be horrified that I’d been stuck at 16 for my whole adult life.
“Please, just go home,” Kennedy said.
God, didn’t she realize that I didn’t have a fucking home? Not since Brooklyn died. For 16 years I’d barely been holding on. And I was done living that way. “The past is in the past, Kennedy. Can’t we just agree to keep it there?” I took a step forward but she put her hand up to stop me.
“No.”
I wasn’t sure if she was saying ‘no’ in response to my question. Or telling me not to get near her. Either way, what the hell was I supposed to do? She wasn’t going to let me in tonight. “We’ll talk in the morning then, okay?” I hated how desperate I sounded. But I was. Desperate for her. My eyes dropped to her lips.
She didn’t respond. But I swore I heard a sharp inhale. Her body betraying every single one of her words.
It took every ounce of my restraint to not step toward her again. “I’ll call you in the morning,” I said.
“No,” she said in a rush. “Don’t. I’ll…I’ll call you, okay?”
“Okay.” I could wait for her to call. I could handle that. She’d talk to me when she was ready. And hopefully she’d be ready really early in the morning, because I had a feeling I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
She nodded. “Goodnight, Matt.”
Her goodnight sounded an awful lot like a goodbye.
There was a light wailing noise behind the door. Had they gotten a cat? “What was that?” I asked.
“Nothing. I have to go,” Kennedy said. She opened the door and quickly closed it behind her.
There were a few more wailing noises and then silence.
I wanted to bang on the door. I wanted to kick it to the fucking ground and tell her I didn’t care about the past. That I was finally ready to embrace the future. I could at least tell her that I wasn’t allergic to cats.
Instead, I turned around and walked down the dingy hallway. I passed by Brooklyn’s old door and again didn’t look at it. I was finally ready to be happy. How could the memory of Brooklyn still be torturing me after all these years? Why couldn’t the past just stay in the past?
***
I honestly wasn’t sure how I ended up in the bar down the street from Tanner’s place. I didn’t remember driving or parking or anything. It was like I was in a trance. I downed my glass and shot Tanner a text letting him know I’d be late.
