Holding On (4 page)

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.”