Definitely, Maybe in Love

I’d only known Tyler for two days. Was it fair of me to trust him over Henry, without even asking?

“Did you do it?” I dropped my hand and stared up at him.

“No. Spring, Alex Parks is a pathological liar. I’ll tell you exactly—”

“No.” I cut him off. “Did you do what Tyler said?”

He blinked, looking confused. “What?”

“Did you break up Julia and Dart?” I asked point blank, even though my voice was shaking. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

Henry just stared at me. For a moment, I wondered if he didn’t understand what I was asking. Did he need me to rephrase the question?

But no. The longer our eyes locked and the longer he didn’t respond, the clearer the answer was.

“What the hell, Henry.” I brushed his hand off my arm and took a step back. “You did?”

He stared down at me, bemused, making me want to shake him by the shoulders like a child.

“How could you do that? Why?”

“I…” he began, but then stopped. “It was the right thing to do. She didn’t love him. You know that.”

“What?” I shrieked, balling my hands into tight fists, feeling like I might actually hit something.

“Dart’s like a brother to me. I couldn’t watch him make the same mistake. I knew it wouldn’t work out with her.”

“What same mistake?” I asked. “And you have no way of knowing it wouldn’t work out. She hasn’t been the same, Henry. Her heart is broken; her spirit is broken.” My voice cracked. “And it’s your fault.”

“Spring, just—”

“I can’t do this.” I pointed back and forth from him and to me. “What you did to Julia and your so-called best friend is despicable. So whatever little head game you’re playing with me, it’s over. Do you understand?”

He shifted his weight but didn’t speak.

“First Alex, then Lilah, and now Julia. Who knows how many people’s lives you’ve screwed with.”

“I haven’t screwed with anyone. You don’t know what happened. Just listen.” He reached out but I dodged him.

“I cannot be with someone, trust someone who’s capable of what you did. I could never love you. Never.”

He flinched at my last word.

“We’re done, Knightly,” I said, speaking more forcefully so my voice wouldn’t break again. “Now… This minute… Pour toujours—”

“Yeah. I get it, Spring.” The harsh vibe in his voice matched his expression. “After all I’ve said, this is still how you feel?” When I didn’t so much as blink, he exhaled sharply. “Then there’s nothing more to say.”

I folded my arms. Nothing more to say.

He still didn’t leave, and I could feel his eyes on me, but I chose not to look at him until he finally moved to the front door and turned the knob. Sometime within the last turbulent hour, the sky had opened and it was pouring down rain.

Have fun on your little motorcycle there, buddy.

He paused under the threshold, staring down, not seeming to notice the rain, almost as if there was one more thing he wanted to say. But he didn’t. He never looked back.

Once he was off the porch, I kicked the door shut. Through the rain, I heard his Harley start up, the tires angrily kicking up gravel as it screeched away. The sound faded out in a matter of seconds.

“There,” I said aloud, dusting off my hands. “Well done, Springer.”

After staring at the closed door until my eyes stung, I tore my gaze away and marched upstairs. I paced around my room in circles, my wits going wild, thinking of all the other things I wished I’d have said to him.

Then I halted in place, remembering all the things I had said.

Without warning, my stomach heaved and I bent over, both arms around my middle. Knowing I had seconds to spare, I flung open the door, raced across the hall, and slid to the floor in front of the white toilet bowl, salivating and sweating, awaiting the looming upchucks.

Twenty minutes later, after intervals of returning semi-digested food back to nature and resting my burning face against cold porcelain, I peeled myself off the floor and crossed to my room.

Hail hammered against the skylight over my head. Lightning crashed and thunder rumbled. I put my hands on top of my head and tucked my chin, trying to shield myself as figurative hail pelted me from above.

I had no strength left, nothing but a strange sense of carved-out hollowness.

Defeated, I crumpled onto the bed and cried…cried for the first time in ten years.

Chapter 27

I glanced at Mel, who was watching the freeway, occupied by her own thoughts. It was strange and unsettling. New territory. It was the first time in our life-long relationship that I knew more about something than her.

The remaining few days of spring break had consisted of me in the guest bedroom under the pretext of studying. I’d turned off my cell, unsure of what to tell Julia, but also dreading any other communication.

Nothing was said on the subject of Henry Knightly the rest of the time in Vancouver. The only thing Mel probably suspected was that I’d kissed a guy then refused to talk to him a day later.

You stay classy, Spring.

I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it. My blood pressure was already skyrocketing as we headed back to California, flying south on I-5. I ran my fingers over my forehead and pushed back against the head rest, staring out the window.

It was my own fault. I’d stepped into the mouth of the beast and had to live with the stench till it wore off. Served me right for getting close to a guy like Knightly. When would I learn that men, all men, were the enemy?

This reminded me of the card I’d received from my father a few weeks ago. An invitation to his midsummer wedding, sent in the guise of a birthday card, the first card he’d sent in five years. Ha! There was no way I was going to any wedding, even if my brothers swore Dad had changed, that he was reaching out to me. I wasn’t ready to believe that. Especially not now.

Reviewing some history notes from a class blog took up the next hour or so of our journey. My phone vibrated. I’d purposefully not checked messages for days, but it was probably time. I snuck a glance at Mel, who was yammering on her cell. My left temple began to throb as I tapped my Stanford e-mail icon then quickly scanned down the messages. There were plenty from friends, classmates, and even one from Professor Masen. I didn’t have the stomach to read that one yet.

I jumped when my phone vibrated again. This time a calendar prompt popped up, alerting me of an event that was to take place in fifteen minutes. I stared at the screen. It wasn’t something I’d entered into my calendar. Knightly had put it in there, obviously. Though it wasn’t the event I’d seen him enter, our date to work on my thesis—that wasn’t until next week. This was something else, something…personal.

He must have entered it when I wasn’t looking, when we’d been next to each other in the backseat of Tyler’s car, me momentarily distracted by someone’s hand up my shirt. Sweat pooled in the palms of my hands, under my hair, across my forehead, as I read the short event again and again, wanting—almost desperately—to be where it said I should be, with whom, and doing what it said we should be doing.

After I’d read it a fourth time, everything in me dropped. Then spun.

“What’s so captivating?”

Mel’s voice startled me. When I turned to her, she took one look at me and winced.

“Crap, Spring! What’s wrong with you?”

I didn’t know what she meant. Had all my hair fallen out? Was I bleeding from the ears?

“You look like death.”