To See You Again (22 page)

She
leans over and stares intently into my eyes.  For a moment I feel obligated to
tell her. She's shared an immense amount of really serious personal information
with me, and I feel like the reciprocal thing to do is to share back, but I
just can't. I won't. In a flash of inspiration I default to blaming Collin for
my secrecy. I doubt he'd mind.

"It
sounds like it isn't something he wants me to discuss, and I need to respect
his privacy." Reba looks like she's going to go Cujo on me if I don't say more
than that, so I add, "but basically, it was a really bad misunderstanding. We
were both pretty upset at the time." She nods, and much to my relief, she
doesn't appear to have plans to push me more on the topic.

"So,
what did your boyfriend think of that huge photo of you?" She smiles
provocatively.

"Um, what?"
I exclaim loudly. What the hell is she talking about?

"You
guys slept in the guest room downstairs, right?"

"Yes,
but I think I would've noticed a picture of me in there."

"Well
then, let's mark you down as totally oblivious, because it's huge and hanging
on the wall in the main room of the basement." She raises her eyebrows in a
look that says, ‘you're so stupid'. Now, there's the Reba I know.

I gasp.
"It was late and I didn't even look around down there. I pretty much just went
straight into the bedroom. In the morning, we kind of rushed out, too." I feel
my face go hot.

She
laughs at me. "You look stunned. Do you want to see it?"

Holy
shit.

"I think
so," I stammer.

"Don't
worry. It's nothing scandalous." She pauses. "Oh my gosh,
did
you guys
take scandalous pictures?"

"No!" I
answer entirely too quickly, both sounding and looking totally guilty, I'm
sure. Oh,
God.
Reba just laughs and takes me by the hand down to the
basement.

"Here it
is," she says, pointing to a large black and white photo. I immediately
recognize the scenery, but I don't remember the shot at all.

"You
look hot." She nudges me with her elbow as we both appraise the picture. "He's
had this forever."

"I don't
know what to say," I whisper. I feel numb.

"Yeah,"
she giggles. "I wouldn't know what to say if I found out some guy had a super
big photo of me in his basement either." She laughs again and then studies my
face. "Oh shit, you
are
freaking out, aren't you? Please don't. Listen,
he's not a stalker or pervert or anything. I promise you. Plus, look around;
there are incredible photos all over this basement and his whole house. It's
not just you." Her tone is more panicked than reassuring.

"No. I
know he isn't a stalker. If he were, he'd really suck at it." I laugh again, releasing
tears down my cheeks. I wipe them away, hoping in vain Reba doesn't notice. "It's
all just, um…overwhelming." I feel tears welling up again. "It's a lot to take
in." I step closer to the photo. An internal voice suggests, what my gut
already knows. This is a picture from the last day we spent together. This was
the final day of our friendship. Oh my God.

She
clasps both my hands in hers and I jump at the feel of her touch, like I've
just been roused from a trance. "I've laid a lot on you. I can tell you're on
overload. I'm sorry for hijacking your morning. Here, let me give you my cell
number. If…if…um, you ever need anything, OK? Or you want to talk more?" I give
her a slow motion nod.  "I'll let you get to work now." I follow her up the
stairs, my legs and arms moving on automatic, my brain still hovering around
that photo.

Reba has
ahold of my phone, plugging her number in.  "Does Leighton know that's me in
the photo?" My brain can't even begin to register what it means if she does,
but I feel like I have to find out.

Reba
freezes, and I can see she's pondering my question. "I kind of doubt it. When I
said he used to talk about you—that was pretty past tense. He hasn't brought
you up to me directly since I moved out…that I can think of, but you know how
private he is." She hands me my coat. "Although, maybe he
has
told
Leighton. She's the most significant girlfriend he's had in ages, maybe ever,
so if he was going to tell anyone the super personal stuff…" she trails off.
She hands me my purse. "Hey, Raven?"

"Yeah,"
I say, not bothering to correct her, as I look up from searching in my purse
for keys.

"He
doesn't look at Leighton the way he used to look at you, though," she says in
an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

I nod,
because I'm not sure what else to do. What does that even mean? It was all so
long ago. What does she want me to say? I know Collin wants
something
now, but I'm not really sure what that even is, and as far as the past goes, I
was never really aware of, nor did I understand, what he was feeling. One thing
I
do
know is I sure wasn't thinking clearly in that elevator. I doubt he
was either. Now Reba is piling on now with information I can't even begin to
process. I'm speechless. I think of Beckett and attempt to center myself. "Leighton
seems nice." I sling my purse over my shoulder.
Take that
. I'm not going
to get sucked in, no matter how tempting it is.

Reba's
lips pull up on one corner like she's amused by my defense of Leighton. "Maybe
she is nice. I'll give her that much, but there's a pretty big leap between
nice and genuine. Nice out in the world is one thing, but in a relationship,
I'm not convinced that it adds up to much." I stare back at her in shock. Her
dislike of Leighton seems to be a lot more than the pettiness I assumed it to
be initially. "Look, I have to admit, he seems happy—well, happy for Collin, I
guess. It's just she's all about trying to make him into something he isn't.
There's a difference between encouraging someone to grow and forcing them to
pretend. She doesn't get that. I think she looks at him and sees someone she
can mold into something else, rather than just loving him for who he really is."
In my gut, I know she's completely hit the nail on the head, but I find myself
defending their relationship anyway.

"I can't
imagine Collin not holding his own with that sort of thing. I've never known
him to bend to anyone's will. I'm sure he's fine with it, or he'd end it,
right?" I defend. Reba shrugs like she's considering my point, but then she
takes a step toward me and counters.

"I don't
think he feels like what he is, or
who
he is, is good enough for the
people he loves. I actually think he puts up with a lot; he always has. He just
handles it by
acting
indifferent. On the outside that might look like
defiance, but just because he doesn't change the way other people seem to want
him to, doesn't mean he isn't buying into the idea that he needs to be fixed."

She's
got a point. I let her words sink in. My stomach churns at the notion that I
may have made him feel this way too. If I accept this reformed version of him
now, does that make me just as bad as Leighton? I'd like to think I know Collin
at his core, though, and I've always loved the deepest parts of him—I feel sure
of that much, but I'm not sure how that applies to our lives now. I sigh and
notice Reba examining me. We share a smile. Little Reba turning out to be insightful—who
would've thunk it?

"Are you
going to tell Collin I stopped by?"

"Well, I
have to explain the returned clothes somehow…but hey, don't worry, I'm not
going to tell him what we talked about, if that's what's worrying you." If at
any point this morning I've been thankful for this new alliance between Reba
and me, it's now.

"Why are
you here, anyway? If you don't mind me asking." That question has been nagging
me, but until now, I haven't been bold enough to ask.

"My
boyfriend is out of town and I can be kind of a scaredy cat sometimes. I hate
being there alone. So Collin let me sleep here last night. Like I said, he
looks out for me." She smiles in a way that suggests this explanation proves a
deeper point.

I nod.
"Thanks, Reba. I'm glad we talked."

"C'mon,"
she says, opening her arms wide, "let's hug this one out."

"Collin!" Leighton's voice breaks through my
daydream like a glass shattering. I shift my eyes to hers, serving her up an
apologetic grin. She looks beautiful today. It's chilly out, but sunny, and
we're braving the cold with coffee outside of her favorite café. She's wearing
the brown leather jacket, the one I got her for her birthday, and knee-high
boots in a matching color. She would be all her usual adorableness if it
weren't for the knitted eyebrows and matching angry-eyes.
Christ.

I know I have to do better than a smile to win her
over, but I'm having a tough time finding the energy for everything Leighton
demands of me now. I wish she would just ease up a little. I need a minute to
catch my breath and get my shit back in order.  I've been agitated and
distracted ever since the night Rachel spent at my house, the same night she
told me to get lost…again. I've been fighting to flush her out of my mind, but it's
proving to be very difficult. Everything I do seems to lead back to thoughts
about her, including trivial things, like those oranges we shared. I had to
pitch them. How pathetic is that? I couldn't even handle the sight of fruit she
ate being in my fridge…
Shit.
So, with that level of crazy running around
in my head, it's taking just about all I've got this morning to focus on the
reality that
she
isn't here. Leighton is.

Ever since the photo in the basement thing, Leighton's
been a wreck. I heard her crying in the shower yesterday morning. Usually when
Leighton cries, it's all about strategy and manipulation. I'm not saying they were
all disingenuous displays, but she's acutely aware that I'll almost always give
in when she, my mother, or Reba are tearful. So, the fact that she was
purposely hiding it is far more significant than the fact that she was crying
at all. The worst part was I didn't need to ask her why, to know the answer.
She's more intuitive than I give her credit for most of the time. She can feel
the distance between us. She asked me this morning if I love her. It's a
question she's asked multiple times since I first uttered the words to her
voluntarily. I told her "yes", just as I have every other time before, because
I
do
love her. I know I do, but it may not be the deep, passionate kind
of love that will help us survive. I don't know how to change that. It kills me
that I've been hurting her. She has every right to hate me. Hell, I hate me
right now. I'm stupid not to just be satisfied with what I have in my life,
especially when who I want, doesn't want me.

Leighton's glare has transformed into a
melancholic look that causes more guilt to swell up inside me. "Sorry,
Leighton. I'm listening. I'm just kind of out of it. I didn't sleep very well
last night." She stands, rubbing her hands on her upper arms before snatching
up her coffee and taking a sip. I follow, offering her my outstretched palm.
Her gloved hand slips into my bare one and I marvel at how miniature it feels,
not at all like Rachel's long, elegant fingers.
Stop thinking about her.

"What do you want to do today?" Leighton asks,
leaning into me.

"Want to see what's playing at the Music Box
Theater?" I watch her grimace. "OK, then." I sigh loud enough for her to hear
me and read between the lines. "What do you have in mind, Leighton?"

"I thought maybe we could stay in today. You know,
get all cozy. Then you could show me some of your photo albums from college." She
gives me a pleading look.

"What?" I can't hide my surprise.

"Yeah. I mean, I have only seen, like, two photos
of you from when you were less than twenty."

I stare down at her. "Leighton, I…"

"Please don't tell me no, Collin." She pulls us to
a stop. She blinks and her eyes fill with tears.
She's killing me.
"You've seen tons of
my
college photos."

"Well, they're kind of hard to avoid, Leighton.
They're all over your apartment." Her expression immediately informs me that
I've really stepped in it now.

"Avoid?" she cries. "Is that what you want—to
avoid me?"

Oh God.

"Of course not, Leighton." I pull her close to me
and out of the path of an on-coming dog walker moving at a break-neck pace. I
touch her cheek gently and lower my voice. "I'm just trying to say, that's you,
it isn't me."

"What's me?" her voice cracks. Her lips are puffy
and red and she looks so young. I hate hurting her like this. This'll be a
tough hole to dig out of, though.

I gesture around me. "Pictures of you and your
friends, scrapbooks, trinkets. That's not me."

"I don't believe you," she counters, pulling away
from me and folding her arms across her chest.

I shoot her an exasperated look. "You don't
believe me?" She nods.
This is about that goddamn photo of Rachel.
"Listen,
I really don't want to fight with you today, or any other day, for that matter.
The truth is I don't have a lot of pictures of me, and I definitely don't have
many with other people. I can dig around and find photos I took back then, but
I'm not going to do it if you're just going to keep riding me like this."

"Riding you?" She raises her voice and I look
around us feeling self-conscious.

"Can we please
not
do this here?" I touch
her elbow gently. She doesn't budge.
I guess that's a no.
"I just feel
like whatever I can find probably won't be good enough for you."

She inhales deeply and looks away from me. Our
breath comes out in little puffs, it's freezing in the shade. I fight the urge
to just pull her toward me and kiss her so deeply she forgets all of this, but
I don't, because she won't. Plus, it would feel an awful lot like lying.

"You can't keep shutting me out, Collin."

"I'm not."

"Fine. Tell me something,
anything
, about when
you were in college." Her voice rises again.

I comb my fingers through my hair and sigh. "I
don't know, Leighton.  I just sort of went through the motions back then. There
isn't much to tell." She glares at me and I feel my irritation grow in kind.

"Fine. Then tell me about Rachel," she commands. I
immediately shake my head and fail to contain an eye roll. Nope. No way are we
talking about Rachel. Talk about a goddamn mine field. I'm not that stupid.
"You can't even manage to tell me about some girl from a decade ago, Collin. Do
you get how sad that is? How
alone
it makes me feel?" She abruptly
shifts her weight on the sidewalk in a way that looks a hell of a lot like she
just stamped her foot. Is this really happening? Did my girlfriend seriously
just stamp her foot at me? Jesus.

"I'm not trying to make you feel alone, Leighton.
It's just…I don't know…can't we do this without the inquisition? I think this
sort of stuff should just come up more organically, you know?" I try to gently
pull on her arm so we can start walking and she wriggles out of my grasp,
flailing dramatically.

"That's the thing, Collin. It never does. I want
someone who will share with me the way I do with them." She's said this exact
statement to me time and time again.

"OK." What the hell does she want me to say?

"But you don't want to," she counters, narrowing her
eyes.

"I do share a lot of things with you, Leighton.
Way more than I share with most people. It's just never enough for you. Maybe
I'm
not enough for you." The frustration I've been trying to keep at bay is
working its way into my voice. She wipes away a tear from her cheek and looks
up at me with a look of decisiveness I haven't seen color her face before.

"I get that you were really hurt, Collin. I can
see so many ways that you've been let down in your life, and I'm sorry about
that, I really am, but that can't be the never-ending excuse for why this
relationship isn't working." There's so much anger and hurt in her voice. I
know I should be comforting and try to deescalate everything, but I feel myself
rising to it instead.

"That's what you think? That's why we're not
working? It's all me?" She doesn't answer and I get the feeling this whole
conversation has been a test I didn't pass.

 "I think we need a break," she says firmly.

"A break?" I nearly shout. I'm searching her
expression for clues. Is she fucking serious?

She nods. "You need to learn to trust me, or to
trust anyone—I can't be with someone who has this many deep-rooted issues. We
need to put things on pause, I think."  There are tears pouring down her
cheeks, but she doesn't appear to be backing down.

My mouth drops open. I definitely didn't see this
coming. I know she's been upset, but to end things? Now? She tips up on her
toes and kisses me lightly on my cheek before turning and rushing down the
street. I watch her go, her name never quite making it to my lips.