Holding On Read online

  My phone began ringing in my pocket, but I didn’t even bother to look. I knew it was probably my mom wondering where I ran off to. She probably wanted to finish our very one sided conversation. She wasn’t asking us; there was no talking about this—she was telling us that we were moving. The ringing stopped and then started again right away. Really? Can’t she just let me be alone right now? Does she not understand how upset I am?

  “No,” he said from about ten feet away. Had I just said all of that out loud? Probably. When I get emotional, that tends to be my MO. “You are not allowed to be alone right now.”

  As I turned my head, I couldn’t help but smile. He was such a beautiful person, inside and out, and he was mine. He towered over me in height and could probably bench-press me as a workout. His body was always in great shape because he was always at the gym trying to strengthen his upper body for football. He was doing a great job. I could see how impressive his build was, even though the sweatshirt he was wearing.

  We had been best friends since middle school, and I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. This was not the first time I had noticed how incredibly desirable he was. I’d been pushing those thoughts from my brain for years now. It’s a dance I had been doing for a while and had perfected. I would start to lose control of the fact that we are friends, and the next time we see each other, he has a girl on his arm, usually a new girlfriend. It always helped to bring things back into perspective for me.

  I was staring at him, taking in the “view,” as his long legs bring him the ten feet or so in about four steps.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him as he sat down next to me on the bench and wrapped his long, muscular arm around my shoulder. I put my head in the crook of his neck and exhaled the breath that I didn’t even know I was holding.

  “Your mom called me when you left the house. I was running about five minutes late, so I took a detour and figured you would be here if you were upset. I saw your car, but I didn’t see you on the courts, so I called your phone and listened for the ring to find you.” He knew me too well sometimes. As he hugged me tighter, I began to shiver. He gave my strange appearance a quick once over and started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” I know I sounded defensive, but I really didn’t see the humor in anything at that moment. The only thing I was focused on was the pain in my stomach and the fact that my brain was refusing to process what was going on. I was starting to get a headache.

  “Do you see what you’re wearing? You would be laughing too,” he replied while trying not to laugh too hard. He was successfully failing.

  I looked down and started to laugh too. I had on my hot pink rain boots with my favorite purple sweat pants and a very deep red-and- black sweater. To top it off, my blanket was an ugly burnt-orange– school colors. I looked like a very ugly rainbow of colors. I had to laugh, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. Brad always knew how to make me laugh, and he always knew how to make me feel just a little bit better about any situation or at least make me forget about it for a moment. I actually felt the tension begin to melt from my body.

  “So are you going to tell me why you ran out of the house before I got there or are we going to the movies with you looking like that?”

  Welcome back, tension.

  “Calm down, birthday boy. First, I think we are missing the movie right now. You should probably call the GF and tell her you are going to be a bit late. Second, you know you’re jealous of how hot I look in all these fabulous colors,” I stopped to smirk at him for a minute because he knows I never refer to myself as hot. “Last, I want to tell you, but I don’t really want to ruin your birthday. Let’s get out of the cold, and we can talk about it tomorrow.”

  He pulled out his phone, typed out a quick text, and shoved it back in his pocket. “I just told Claire that we won’t be making it to the movie. I told her that we would meet up with her and everyone else when the movie ends. So in the meantime, I think you need to tell me what’s wrong.” As if realizing that his phone was going to chime any minute with an unpleasant reply, he pulled it back out of his pocket and turned it off.

  He talked about his girlfriend so dismissively that I forgot she was not a fan of our relationship. If she saw us right now, with his arm around me, she would flip out and start to throw a tantrum in front of whoever was willing to watch her. She was a very sweet girl, but very possessive and clingy. It struck me as odd that Brad would even date her, considering he was so incredibly laid back. They were complete opposites, and I had been trying to figure out their relationship since they started dating last spring.

  Last week, we were celebrating my birthday. Today we were supposed to be celebrating his. Nothing about this situation constituted celebrating. We’ve always had a ritual for our birthdays since they are so close together, but my “situation” was messing everything up. We were supposed to be going to a movie and then to a party at Emma and Ella’s in celebration of his birthday. It was the same thing we did last Friday night on my birthday. It was the same thing we did last year for our birthdays. It was our tradition. This was not on the agenda for today.

  A quick poke to the ribs brought me out of my thoughts and back to reality. Ugh! I really did not want to talk about this. I did not want to cry again. I did not want to think about what’s really going to happen in less than a month. This sucks! I did not want to have to tell my best friend that I was leaving him.

  Another nudge and I realized that he was not going to let me stall any longer. I stood up and started to pace the length of the dugout. As I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, I realized that I couldn’t feel my toes—my socks were wet and frozen to my feet. I must have gotten snow on my socks when I was wearing my slippers. My day just kept getting better and better. I quickly turned toward Brad before I realized that he was right behind me, and I ran square into the middle of his rock hard chest. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me and pulled me in for a hug. He smelled so good that I couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

  Deep breath in, exhale, repeat. This was my new mantra. I repeated it over and over in my head before I opened my eyes again and realize that Brad was still holding me, stroking his hand over my back and kissing my hair. I was crying, and I didn’t even realize I had started to shake again. Deep breath in, exhale, repeat.

  “Tell me, Becca,” he said, breaking the silence that I was beginning to appreciate. “Tell me, or I will have to call your mom, and you know she will tell me.”

  Crap! He was right. She would tell him my bra size if he asked. She trusts him with me completely. She knows that he will always take care of me, that he loves me in a way that is completely hard to come by and only happens once in a lifetime. It’s that special kind of love where nothing-will-ever-come-between-us-no-matter-what. It’s the eternal kind of love. He’s my best friend and always will be. This news would not break us—that’s why she sent him to find me. Damn her!

  “Fine. You are not going to like this, though, and it will probably ruin your birthday. So when I start to cry and fall apart again, you cannot blame me when we show up to your party, with me looking like a freak in hot pink rain boots.” I was trying to get him to smile, but his face stayed the same. His mouth was firm, not a trace of amusement at all. No use is stalling. Just say it. Quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. The quicker you do it, the less it hurts. Right?

  “Mom found a new job,” I continued. “We have to move to Tucson at the beginning of January.” I was crying again before I finished my statement. I was able to get it out without any emotion in my voice, but the tears running down my face conveyed everything I was feeling for me. I was beyond sad, beyond angry. I was devastated. This small town was everything I needed. It was my home, and I was being torn from it without a second thought from my mom. Realization hit hard then—I only had three weeks before I was leaving.

  “It’s going to be just fine, and you know it.” He stated it so simply. He made it sound like it wasn’t life-alte
ring news. He made it sound like he wasn’t the slightest bit affected by this. Then it hit me. He already knew.

  I stepped back, and his hands fell to his sides. He went to reach for me to pull me back in, but I took another step back. The look on his face was of genuine concern. We had known each other long enough to know when the other one was lying. He was definitely not lying, but omitting. He took a step toward me and tried to grab for my hand, and I pulled away. The look of anger on my face must have been apparent because he stopped mid-step and pulled back.

  “When,” I asked him, “when did she tell you?”

  The blank stare was a dead giveaway. He tried to pull me in for another hug, but I pushed him away. My blanket fell to the ground, and I left it there. I turned my back on him and walked away. I couldn’t believe he knew before I told him. He made me tell him, made me say the words. He made the situation real when I was forced to say it out loud. Was he on her side? Did he really believe that everything was going to be all right? Did he want me to leave?

  I was practically running by the time I reached my car and jumped in. I started it but just sat there. I was in no condition to drive. The tears were flowing freely again and dropping on my sweater from my chin. The heater started to kick in, and I could almost feel my toes again when I noticed that Brad was standing in front of my car just watching me, holding my ugly orange blanket. We made eye contact, and that was all it took. I gave in, just like always. He was no match for my willpower. One look and I would melt like butter over an open flame. Damn him!

  I unlocked the doors and motioned for him to get in. Once the door was closed and the only sound was the hot air rushing from the vents, he turned toward me and ran the back of his hand over my cheek, wiping away freshly fallen tears. This is the man that I love. His friendship means everything to me, and I was going to leave him. There would be phone calls, emails, text messages, and visits, but things would never be the same as they were right this very moment.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I started, but he put his finger over my lips to silence me. I had seen him do this before with Claire, with his other girlfriends, but never with me. We didn’t share those types of moments. The kind of moments that cause all of the air to rush out of your body had always been reserved for his girlfriends, not for me. My body immediately tensed up, and my eyes opened wide. I turned to face him better and knew what was going to happen only mere seconds before it did.

  He leaned forward and kissed me. It was gentle and innocent, but my entire body felt alert and on fire. It only last a few second, and when it was over, he rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. Wow!

  “I agree.”

  Crap! I was thinking out loud again. I really had to get that under control before I start saying things I really don’t want people to hear. I opened my eyes, and he was looking at me in a way that had never happened before, and then he kissed me again. This time there was more urgency, more passion, and more emotion behind his every movement. Before I could stop myself, I was just as involved in the kiss as he was, and a small moan left my throat that I had been trying to contain.

  He pulled away, and you could see the shock on his face—the “Oh crap, I just kissed a girl that’s not my girlfriend” expression. Then he smirked, and I released the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding and started to laugh. I couldn’t control myself. It’s not that the situation was funny. It wasn’t, but the look on his face was priceless. I knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, and he was feeling like a complete ass at that very moment.

  He was not a cheater. He would never intentionally cheat on anything or anyone. I understood this; his girlfriend did not. She did not understand our relationship and because of that, she always assumed that we had something going on behind her back. We never gave her a reason to think those things, but she just assumed, and when they would fight, that was what she would always bring up as a means of defense.

  Crap! We’ve given her a reason not to trust us, and all I can do right now is laugh. Brad was looking at me like I was crazy, and I was laughing so hard I was crying. He reached out and grabbed my hand, and the instant he touched me, I stopped, sucked in a very large breath, and held it. He took my hand and put it over his heart and held it there.

  “You live here, Becca. You will always live here.”

  That was all he said before getting out of my car and driving away. OMG! What was I going to do? At that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me again. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him as more than just my best friend, something I had contemplated over the years but had always pushed out of my mind. I wanted more. I could feel my heart breaking inside my chest at the thought that we would never get that. There just wasn’t enough time.

  Chapter Two

  I didn’t see Brad the rest of the weekend. We texted a few times. Nothing about the move was mentioned and nothing about the kiss, either. I was trying to ignore what had happened. I chalked it up to an “Oops…” We were having an emotional moment. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to kiss me, right? What about the second time? Was that just an “oops” too?

  Ignoring what had happened between Brad and I was impossible. We both attempted to act normal and pretend that it never happened. Our friends didn’t seem to notice, or at least they didn’t say anything to me, but still there were moments when I felt that things were different. The slight brush of his hand when we were walking to class or when he put his hand on the small of my back sent shivers through my body and heat to my cheeks. I felt like the entire world could see right through me.

  I was a fraud! For the past five years, I had been telling people that we were just friends and defending out nontraditional relationship. Now I couldn’t possibly say a word to anyone without feeling like a fraud. I was trying hard to hide my feelings from everyone, myself included. If I admitted it, then it would be real. If it was real, then leaving was real. If leaving was real, then I would have to face losing him. I wasn’t delusional enough to think that I wasn’t going to have to leave him in the end anyway. I just wanted to avoid it until the last minute. If we started something, anything, it would be finished before it could really begin.

  Not to mention, Claire was still upset about what had happened Friday night. Brad never showed up to his party, and neither did I. When she questioned him, he told her that we had been dealing with some personal issues of mine and that afterward he went home and passed out. I wasn’t buying that he went home and passed out. I knew that he was upset when we parted, and I figured he went home. I just doubt he slept at all that night. I know I didn’t. She wasn’t buying it, either, until he told her I was moving. I’ve never seen her so happy in my life, but I couldn’t even find the emotions to get angry at her reaction. I was too full of guilt for anything else to sneak its way in.

  After he left the other night, I sat in my car staring out the window at where he had been parked. I don’t know how much time passed before I finally drove back home, but it felt like an eternity. I ran every possible scenario through my mind on how to change my situation. I could live with the twins. I could get my own place. I could live with Brad and his family. The problem was I knew that my mom would never let any of that happen.

  The only scenario that would work would be to go live with my dad, and I didn’t want that. My dad is great—when he’s around. He’s constantly working or traveling. My parents’ marriage failed because my dad couldn’t devote enough time to family. Back then, it was all about work, getting promoted, making money. Now after losing us, he realized that work should be a number 2 priority and his number 1 priority is traveling with his latest fling. I could not live that kind of life.

  The buzz around school about me leaving swept through the halls quickly, thanks in large part to Claire’s elation. By the end of the day on Monday, it was pretty much common knowledge. Walking into the yearbook room the last hour of the day was when all my emotions rose to the surface again. I had
worked so hard to get where I was. I had earned my title as editor-in-chief. I was going to have to give that all up, and instead of walking into that room and telling my teacher what was going on, I walked right past the door and out to the parking lot to my car.

  As soon as the bell rang for school to end, my phone started to blow up. First, there were a few messages of concern from my close friends who noticed that I had skipped last period. Then came the excited messages about throwing a party in my honor. My friends were sad but felt that since I was going, they would send me off in style with a big celebration. We were not leaving until the first of the year, so New Year’s Eve was the big bash. My friends Ella and Emma, the twins, asked their parents if they could host the party, and being that I was such a “good kid” in their eyes, they agreed. It took about ten text messages and three phone calls before our very large group of friends and plenty of other people knew the plan, and the party was officially on.

  Tuesday was even less exciting than Monday had been. Instead of the bright smiles I would normally get in the hallway, I saw plenty of pity on the faces of my friends. Brad was the worst. Per usual, he met me at my locker before each class and we walked together. Our normal, upbeat conversations had been replaced with deafening silence as we walked. I was always thinking about ways to bring up the kiss, but it never seemed like the right time. Would someone overhear our conversation? Did he regret what had happened? I know that I was confused, but I definitely did not regret our kiss.

  Friday morning, my final day of school before break, before I moved, before I said good-bye to all of my friends, things were even weirder than normal between me and Brad. He held his head high as he grabbed my hand on our way to my first-period class. I tried to pull away, knowing that Claire could be lurking anywhere, but he held tight and pulled me along. Thankfully, we didn’t see her, but plenty of other people saw us.