The Year I Almost Drowned (14 page)

Harrison

for

me,

Finn.”

“I’m not doing it just for you, Jesse,” I lied. “I’ll be closer to my dad and

grandparents and I can stay in town and help my grandfather. It’s for the best.” I

felt

like

I

was

trying

to

convince

myself

more

than

him.

He sighed heavily. “It’s wrong, Finn, and I won’t let you do it. They’re offering you

a full scholarship. That’s an opportunity you don’t give up on, no matter what.” He

said, “I’ve been thinking about our conversation the other night, about what you

said and you’re right.” He looked into my eyes searching for a reaction. I gave

him a confused expression. What did he mean? “We’re going to be in two different

places. You’ll be starting school; I’m starting my career. It’ll be hard for us to date,

and I don’t want you to feel like you have to sacrifice anything just because you

feel

tied

to

me.”

“Jesse, what are you saying?” The tears began to form. My eyes were full of

water. He was making it real–all too real. “I can stay here and go to school.” I was

desperate.

“No, you can’t, Finn. Not for me. I’d hate myself too much if you did. It’s not what

you want anyway. You can’t make that kind of sacrifice. You’d resent me and

regret that decision in the long run.” He touched my face with the palm of his

hand. His eyes were starting to water. “You need to live this part of your life

without me standing in the way.” He removed his hand from my face.

“You’re

breaking

up

with

me?”

I

asked

loudly.

“I love you, Finn. But I’m not going to hold you back. I can’t make you be with me.

The

other

night,

you

made

things

clear.”

“Jesse, you’re wrong. I love you,” my voice broke through tears.

“I know you do, Finn. But I can see we’re in two different places right now. I know

what I want. I’m willing to commit to you completely. I can’t ask you to do the

same if you’re not ready to; if you aren’t sure of what it is you want.”

The tears kept falling. They wouldn’t stop. “Why would you say that?” I asked

sobbing. I hated that I was crying so uncontrollably, but hearing him say that,

seeing

him

say

it,

broke

my

heart

in

two.

“Don’t deny it, Finn.” He breathed an uneven deep breath. I could see water in

his eyes but there were no tears. How was he able to stay so controlled, so calm?

“When you’re one hundred percent sure you can do this, let me know. I’ll wait for

you, Finn. But we can’t stay together if you have doubts.”

“Jesse,” I started. He placed his finger to my lips and slowly moved it down to my

chin and then finally away from my face. He pulled me toward him and held me

tight. My face was pressed against his chest. I could feel the thump of his heart

beat. And then he released his hold of me and let me go. Like that. In the blink of

an

eye

our

relationship

had

ended.

He started the car and drove back to my grandparents’ house. I was too upset to

say anything, to do anything. I wanted it to be a horrible nightmare that I would

suddenly

wake

up

from.

But

it

wasn’t.

It

was

real.

***

Christmas came and went. It should have been a happy time for me since it was

the first Christmas I had spent with my dad and grandparents in a long, long time.

I tried to fake it, to act happy, but they knew. Anyone within proximity to me could

see that I was just... there. It’s like my soul had left my body and the shell was left

with no inner core. I tried to enjoy spending the holiday with them as much as I

could,

but

my

heart

was

aching.

The week passed quickly. I don’t remember what happened. It was all a blur: one

big terrible blur. I wanted to get out of Graceville–to get away from him. I couldn’t

bear to work with him on his last Saturday in the diner. It would have been too

much to see him again. I knew I wouldn’t be able to deal with it. How did anyone

ever get over a break up? How did they get out of bed and face the morning and

talk to people? How did they ever do anything again? Every single thing I did

reminded me of him–the dumbest, most obscure things–like the smell of maple

syrup, the taste of vanilla wafers, or the sounds of my grandparents’ wind chime

blowing from the wintery breeze. It didn’t matter what it was, I saw him in

everything.

My Nana helped me pack the last of my things into my suitcases. The room was

empty of all my belongings and felt so cold. The poor insulation in their old

windows allowed the outside air to creep in. But that wasn’t the reason it was so

cold.

There

wasn’t

life

in

this

room

anymore.

She jerked on the zipper and pushed her hand down on the suitcase so it would

zip. “My goodness, Finn. You’ve got a lot of stuff in here,” she said.

“I’m taking everything with me,” I said. Everything but my heart, I thought.

“It’ll be good for you to spend some time with your mom before you go to school.”

She

wrapped

her

arm

around

me.

“Yeah,”

I

murmured.

“It

will.”

“Let’s go downstairs and have some supper. Your dad is here. Hannah and Meg

are

coming

over,

too.”

She took one of my suitcases and lugged it with her down the wooden stair case.

I grasped onto the other one, took one last look at the room– a room that had

become mine and felt like home–and closed the door behind me.

We placed the suitcases at the bottom of the staircase. My grandfather was sitting

in the living room talking to my dad. Meg and Hannah hadn’t arrived yet. “I filled

up your car,” my grandfather said. “Checked under the hood. Everything seems

to

be

okay.”

“Thank you,” I said. That was his way of saying he loved me. He was more about

acts of service than anything else. I sat down on the couch next to my dad.

“Put

air

in

your

tires,

too,”

Grandpa

added.

“The drive down there should be fine. You won’t have to worry about snow,” my

dad

said.

“Just be careful,” my grandfather warned. “There’s a lot of crazy drivers down

there.”

“I will.” I wasn’t in the mood to be around people–to talk to anyone–and I felt bad

for that. They were trying to spend my last night in Graceville with me, and I was

being

so

taciturn.

The doorbell chimed constantly. Whoever was pushing it was purposely hitting it

several

times.

“That

must

be

Meg,”

I

said.

“Cut

it

out!”

my

grandfather

hollered.

I got up to let them in. Meg was laughing; Hannah was not. “I told her to stop,”

Hannah

said

apologetically.

I shrugged. “It’s okay.” My disposition was still gloomy. I had become one of those

people that people avoided for fear that their depressive, no-fun attitude would

rub

off

on

them.

“She’ll be super fun to be around tonight,” Meg whispered to Hannah, but I heard

her anyway. Hannah hit her on the arm and gave her the “be quiet” look.

They followed me inside. “Should’ve known that was you, Meg.” My grandfather

scowled

at

her.

“You love me, admit it,” she teased. He picked up his newspaper and started

reading. She shrugged. “After we eat, we’re taking you out,” she said to me.

I shook my head. “That’s okay. I need to get some sleep before my long drive

tomorrow.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “You’re young. You can handle staying out a little past your

bed time, Finn.” She pinched my cheek and smiled. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Dinner’s ready,” Nana called from the kitchen, and everyone headed to the

dining

room.

***

We finished eating dinner. Nana had gone overboard: roasted chicken, rice,

salad, rolls, and of course cherry pie. It was strange sitting around the dinner

table without Jesse there. He had always been there. Anytime we had a

celebration, he was there sitting right beside me. Looking to my right, seeing the

chair

empty,

was

a

physical

reminder

that

he

was

gone.

It was after eight o’clock. I didn’t want to go out but knew I had no choice in the

matter. Meg and Hannah weren’t willing to budge. They insisted that we go out

on

my

last

night

in

Graceville.

I gave my dad a tight hug goodbye. The way he held me all snug and secure

made me start crying. The emotion of it all got to me. “Don’t cry.” He patted me

on the arm. I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable with me sobbing in front of

him. He was the type to feel awkward around any display of sadness. He had

seen enough in his life. I guess he wanted to forget it existed in the world. “We’ll

see

each

other

soon

enough,”

he

said.

His time frame and mine were entirely different. What was soon to him was a long

time away for me. I wasn’t planning to travel back to Graceville until my summer

break. That was six months away. And I wasn’t even sure if I would be ready to

go

back

then.

My grandparents offered to drive my dad home so Meg and Hannah could take

me out. Hannah and Meg knew that we couldn’t go to Matt’s house. Jesse was

still staying there for another week. They knew we had broken up but hadn’t pried.

I don’t know what details they knew about the break up. Chances were that Matt

and Jesse had talked–which meant that Matt and Hannah had talked. That’s how

Jesse and I used to be. We’d share everything, so I assumed that Matt and

Hannah were the same way. But neither of them asked me about it, and I was

appreciative

of

that.

I sat in the back of Hannah’s car, which was oddly immaculate. It was never clean.

She and Meg shared the car and Meg was a complete slob. “The car is clean,” I

said. There wasn’t a candy wrapper, soda can, or text book in sight.

“We’re not sharing cars anymore. I’m driving my dad’s old car, Finn,” Meg said.

“So

the

first

thing

‘Miss

Neat

Freak’

did

was

clean

it.”

“I had to do more than clean it, Meg. You left a trail of scum that a blow torch

couldn’t

get

rid

of,”

Hannah

said

to

her.

“Whatever,”

Meg

said.

I interrupted them before the fight escalated. “Where are we going?”

“Bowling,”

they

answered

in

unison.

“Oh,”

I

sounded

disappointed.

“Sorry, Finn. There’s not a lot of places to go in Graceville, and I knew you

wouldn’t want to hang at Matt’s house,” Hannah said, looking at me through her

rear

view

mirror.

“Bowling is fine,” I lied and stared out the window. She turned the radio on. A fast

paced pop song played. The upbeat tempo didn’t lift my spirits. Just thinking

about being at the bowling alley brought back memories. Everything reminded

me of Jesse. I wondered when it would stop hurting so much.

***

You Bowl Me Over was bustling with throngs of people: parents taking their small

children out for a family night; couples on a date; friends passing the hours away.

Every time I went there, it was always like that. Since it was the only bowling alley

in town and it had a restaurant and bar, most everyone in town went there. On

that night, I didn’t want to be there. It was just another place that reminded me of

Jesse.

“Let’s

get

a

lane,”

Hannah

said.

We followed her to the counter, paid our fees, got our shoes and found our lane.

I sat on one of the chairs and took off my shoes, replacing them with the hideously

ugly,

stinky

bowling

shoes.

“You

wanna

go

first,

Finn?”

Meg

asked

me.

“You

go

ahead.”

She grabbed her ball and rolled it down the alley. “Spare!” she shouted.