I can’t picture it with a different person every day. That doesn’t feel like a life. That feels like a hotel.
I know he wants it so badly. And it kills me that I can’t give it to him.
“That will never happen,” I say, trying to make my voice as comforting as possible. “I wish I could believe it, but I can’t.”
“But, Rhiannon—”
I’m crying now. It’s too much. “I want you to know, if you were a guy I met—if you were the same guy every day, if the inside was the outside—there’s a good chance I could love you forever. This isn’t about the heart of you—I hope you know that. But the rest is too difficult. There might be girls out there who could deal with it. I hope there are. But I’m not one of them. I just can’t do it.”
A is crying, too. I mean, the girl sitting with me on this bench is crying, too.
“So…what?” she asks. “This is it? We stop?”
I shake my head. “I want us to be in each other’s lives. But your life can’t keep derailing mine. I need to be with my friends, A. I need to go to school and go to prom and do all the things I’m supposed to do. I am grateful—truly grateful—not to be with Justin anymore. But I can’t let go of the other things.”
“You can’t do that for me the way I can do that for you?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
And I don’t want him to do it for me, either. I don’t. We are not worth that.
“Rhiannon…,” A says. But then it stops there. As if he’s finally realizing what the truth is. And what it means for us.
We could argue about it for hours. For days. We could keep coming to this bench, A in a different body each time. It wouldn’t matter. I know this. And I think that A is starting to know it, too.
I lean over and kiss him (her) on the cheek.
“I should go,” I say. “Not forever. But for now. Let’s talk again in a few days. If you really think about it, you’ll come to the same conclusion. And then it won’t be as bad. Then we’ll be able to work through it together, and figure out what comes next. I want there to be something next. It just can’t be…”
“Love?”
No. “A relationship. Dating. What you want.”
I stand up. I have to go now. Not because I’m going to change my mind if I stay. I know I’m not going to change my mind. But I also know it will hurt A more to keep trying and failing.
“We’ll talk,” I promise.
“We’ll talk,” he says. It’s a statement, not a promise.
I hover there. I don’t want to leave it like this.
“Rhiannon, I love you,” he says, her voice breaking.
“And I love you,” I say.
I know it’s something. It’s not enough, but it’s something.
I give a little wave, then head to my car. I don’t look back. I keep myself together. It isn’t until I’m in the car, until I’ve put on my seat belt, that it all comes out. My body needs to release this. So I let it go. I let myself be the mess my life has become. And when I’m done, I blow my nose, wipe my eyes, turn the key in the ignition, and find my way home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As soon as I get to my room, I want to email A, to take it back.
But I have to be stronger than that. Because I know that would be a lie, and I need to live with the truth.
I have no intention of going to the homecoming game, and Rebecca and Preston have no intention of letting me get out of it. I might be able to resist one of them, but their combined force is too much for me.
They call me on speakerphone from Rebecca’s house.
“You have to come,” Preston insists.
“I don’t care if Mystery Man is planning on taking you on a tour of Europe this weekend,” Rebecca says. “This comes first.”
“Because we want you there.”
“We need you there.”
“But Justin will be there!” I point out.
“So what?” Preston says. “We can take down that skinnyass whiner if we have to.”
Rebecca sighs. “What Preston means is, you can’t avoid Justin forever. Our school just isn’t that big. So the sooner you get the first time over with, the better. And we’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Plus,” Preston adds, “you’ll go crazy if you stay home all weekend.”
True. All of this is true.
Also, I miss them.
“Fine,” I say. “But you’re talking to me the whole time. You are not going to expect me to watch high school football for two hours.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Rebecca says, and Preston cheers.
I become hyper-preoccupied with what to wear. Which was never an issue when I was going to see A—I guess I figured if he was going to show up in whatever body, I could show up wearing whatever. Or maybe I didn’t feel like I was auditioning for him all the time, like I did with Justin.
Rebecca, Preston, and Ben pick me up and we head to the high school. It feels like the whole town is here—even though our football team sucks, homecoming is a sort-of big deal. Stephanie and Steve are with Justin and a few more friends, and Stephanie has promised to text updates about their location. I tell Rebecca that’s not necessary—I don’t need to be treated like there are restraining orders involved. I’m not worried Justin will attack me. I’m just worried about how sad it will feel to see him.
Luckily, the stands are packed, and Justin’s group is nowhere near us. As promised, we talk through the game—mostly Preston giving running commentary on the fashion choices of various people in the bleachers, with even Ben throwing in a remark every now and then. At one point, Preston says he’s going on a pretzel run and Rebecca volunteers to join him, leaving me and Ben alone together for the first time in a while.
At first, I think we’re just going to watch the game until Preston and Rebecca get back. But then Ben says, “I’m glad you did it.” He’s not even looking at me—he’s watching the field as he says it. But I know he’s talking to me.
“Thanks,” I say.
Now he looks at me. “No thanks necessary. It’s just nice to see you out from his shadow. Because things don’t grow in shadows, you know? So it was frustrating to see you standing there…and really cool to see you step out of it. I don’t know who this new guy is, but make sure when you’re with him, you’re not standing in his shadow. Stand where everyone can see you.”