Holding On (53 page)

We
made it to my house just as my mom was waking up. She
had to
leave
for
work
in
a
couple
of
hours,
but
she
didn’t
rush
Ethan
out the
door
like
I
expected
her
to.
She
actually
left
before
he
did,
which surprised
me
more
than
anything.
Alone
with
a
boy
in
the
house
was
not
usually
okay
with
either
of
my
parents,
but
apparently,
they
were
learning to trust
me.

Standing outside, saying good-bye to my boyfriend was the
hardest thing
that
I
had
to
do.
I
let
him
hold
me,
knowing
that
it
would
be
the last time for a while that I got the chance to feel his arms around me.
I felt the tears building up, so I pulled back before they could
fall. “See you soon,
Becca.”

As
he
whispered
this
in
my
ear,
I
could
feel
the
tears
running
down my
cheeks.
So
much
for
holding
them
back.
The
back
of
his
hand
came up to softly wipe them
away,
just to be replaced by more seconds
later.
He kissed my forehead, moving his way south. My eyes were
next, each
of
them
already
closed
to
try
and
fight
the
tears
that
wouldn’t
stop, followed
by
each
cheek,
my
nose,
and
then
finally
my
lips.
He
didn’t linger
or
try
to
deepen
the
kiss
like
I
assumed
he
would,
but
the
intensity was there without trying. The sobs started coming
now,
and he pulled me tightly to him, resting his chin on my
head.

“We
will see each other before you know it. Trust
me.”

Something
in
the
way
he
said
“Trust
me”
made
me
believe
him unconditionally.
We
would
see
each
other
soon.
We
would
see
each other
soon.
I
keep
that
chant
going
in
my
head
as
I
watched
him
pull away and disappear in the
distance.

I headed back inside and up to my room. My phone alerted me to
a new
text
as
soon
as
I
walked
through
the
door.
I
had
two
waiting
for
me. I read
Brad’s
first, knowing that his won’t make me
cry.

Well,
I did need to talk, but I didn’t really feel like I could form
a coherent
sentence
right
now.
I’d
call
him
later
or
tomorrow—
whenever
I start to feel like I can breathe
again.

I was still crying when my sister came home. She knew why
and left
me
to
myself.
Hours
later,
when
I
finally
dragged
myself
out
of
bed, I
heard
the
front
door
open
and
close
again.
It
was
almost
midnight,
and Amy was
sleeping.

I
grabbed
the
first
large
object
I
saw,
an
umbrella,
and
headed toward
the
living
room.
I
rounded
the
corner
and
bumped
into
a
firm chest,
letting
out
a
shriek.
He
covered
my
mouth
to
stop
the
scream,
and immediately, I recognized those
hands—Ethan’s.

“What are you doing here?” I mumbled through his
hand.

“I had to see you. I missed
you.”

I didn’t give myself time to think or contemplate what I wanted.
I knew
exactly
how
I
wanted
to
spend
the
next
few
hours
with
him
before he leaves. I dropped the umbrella, grabbed his hand, and dragged
him down the hall to my room, closing and locking the door behind
us.

When
I
woke
up
the
morning
after
Ethan
left,
I
felt
completely
empty.
I
stayed
in
bed
for
most
of
the
day
crying
on
and
off. About
the
time
my
mom
woke
up,
I
was
finally
dragging
myself
into
the kitchen to get some
food.

“So I take it he left this morning?” My Mom
said.

I
nodded.
I
couldn’t
bring
myself
to
speak
for
fear
that
I
would
start crying again, and I wasn’t sure if I had any tears left in me. I
was
probably dehydrated at this
point.

“Has he called
yet?” I shook my
head. “He will probably call tonight after
he’s
settled.”

I nodded once and excused myself.

I
needed
a
shower,
and
I
needed
to
go
back
to
bed.
My
body
was
drained
from
lack
of
sleep
and
crying.
My
chest
hurt
inside
and
out.
The muscles
were
numb
at
this
point
from
all
my
sobbing.
I
don’t
remember it
hurting
this
much
last
time.
I
don’t
remember
feeling
completely alone, completely empty and void of
everything.

I headed to the bathroom and undressed
slowly.
I took my ring
off and
dropped
it
in
the
jewelry
cleaner
on
the
counter,
running
my
fingers over the smooth surface of the emerald, remembering the
resemblance to
Ethan’s
eyes.
I
needed
to
call
Brad.
He
was
my
rock,
and
I
needed him right
now.
Maybe after a hot
shower,
I would feel up to
it.

As I got out of the
shower,
the smells from the kitchen
surrounded
me.
Crap!
My
mom
was
making
enchiladas.
Why
would
she
do
this to
me?
She
couldn’t
possibly
have
any
bad
news,
so
I
guess
we
were
“celebrating” Ethan’s
departure.

I
pushed
back
the
tears,
wrapped
a
towel
around
myself,
and
rushed into the kitchen. My mom was browning the meat, and my sister
was
busy
shredding
cheese.
They
were
both
singing
and
dancing
to
the
stereo,
smiling at each
other.
This did not look like bad news. This looked
like a family
dinner.

“Hey.
What’s
going
on
in
here?”
I
asked.
I
tried
to
sound
casual,
but I knew they could both hear the hesitance in my
voice.

“Mom
thought
it
would
be
nice
to
have
dinner
as
a
family
tonight,” Amy replied with a smile plastered to her
face.

“Enchiladas?”

“Yes,”
my
mom
said
proudly,
“this
was
a
big
week
for
you,
and come
Monday
you
are
starting
college.
I
feel
like
we
need
to
celebrate.”

“But
any
other
time
we
have
these,
we’re
not
‘celebrating’
anything good.
Today’s
not
really
been
the
best
day
for
me,
and
I
would
rather…”

I wanted to finish my sentence, but I was cut off with a stern
look from my mother. 
“We
are starting a new tradition.
We
are only
eating enchiladas when we are celebrating, starting
today,”
my mom stated
in her no-nonsense kind of
way.

That
conversation
was
over.
I
knew
the
tone
she
was
taking
with
me. I didn’t want to upset
her.
She was trying to make a nice dinner
to celebrate all my accomplishments. Bad timing on her part with
Ethan leaving
today,
but
maybe
that
was
on
purpose.
She
probably
didn’t
want
me to sulk all
day. Well,
the rest of the day
anyway.

“All right. I have to run downtown to the pro shop and get my
new racket
strung.
I
shouldn’t
be
gone
long,
maybe
an
hour.
I
should
be
back in time for
dinner.”

“You
will
be back in time for dinner,” my mom said. The
emphasis on
will
was hard to miss. She was not taking no for an answer. I nod
in agreement before I headed to my room and got
dressed.

Walking
into the pro shop, a calm descended upon my
body.
I
felt at home around anything related to tennis. I allowed my eyes to
glance around and take in the store. Rackets lined one wall, shoes on the
other.
I saw at least a dozen racks of clothes that I knew I wouldn’t be able
to pass
by
without
looking
at.
As
I
was
taking
in
my
surroundings,
I
could feel a pair of eyes on me. I spotted the service counter.
With
my
racket frame in hand, I approached the pretty young
girl.

“Can
I
help
you?”
She
asked
sounding
irritated
by
my
presence. Her tone was cold and uninviting, the opposite of the feeling this
place gave me. A glance at her nametag told me her name was
Jennifer.

“Yes.
I
have
an
appointment
to
get
this
strung
today,”
I
replied
firmly.
I can be cold
too.

“Name.” “Becca
Blake.”

“Oh, Miss Blake, glad you could make it! Do you know how
much tension you would like in your
strings?”

Wow!
Her tone had sure changed. It went from frosty bitch to
“Let me
see
how
well
I
can
kiss
your
ass”
in
two
seconds
flat.
What
had Ethan paid these people?

Twenty
minutes later, I wrapped up with Jennifer and arranged
to pick up my racket on Monday after my second class. I had practice
that night,
so
I
should
be
able
to
spend
a
few
hours
breaking
it
in
before
then.

My
cell
rang
just
as
I
was
pulling
out
of
the
parking
lot
of
the pro shop. It was Brad.
Wondering
if I had enough strength to have
the conversation I knew was coming, I answer the phone
anyway.

“Hey,”
I
said
in
the
way
of
a
greeting
as
soon
as
I
picked
up
the phone.
I
tried
to
sound
excited
to
talk
to
him,
but
I
was
pretty
sure
it didn’t come across that
way.

“Hey, yourself. How are you doing this afternoon?” He
asked hesitantly.

I
let
out
a
little
sigh.
That
about
covered
how
I
was
feeling
right
now.
“Not really sure how to put it into words, I
guess.”

“Hang in there. It will get easier, I
promise.”

There
was
something
in
his
voice
that
made
me
think
he
knew something
I
didn’t.
I
wanted
to
ask,
but
my
phone
beeped,
and
I
saw
that my mom was calling on the other
line.