TIme After Time

She waits for me to explain, but I have no idea what to say next. This conversation was inevitable, and there have been plenty of times I walked through it in my head, but having it today was the farthest thing from my mind.

“My parents don’t…exactly…know about you.” I suck in a deep breath and wait while she stares at me for a painfully long time.

“They don’t know about me?” I can’t tell if she wants to cry or punch me. I shake my head no and Anna’s eyes narrow in disbelief. “What about your sister?”

“Brooke knows,” I whisper.

“Brooke?” Anna’s voice cracks as she says her name, and there’s a questioning tone at the end, like she can’t believe that there’s only one person in my world who knows she exists.

“Listen, please. My parents wouldn’t understand. And I can’t tell my friends…I mean, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“Tell them that I live in Illinois. Just like my friends think you’re a normal guy from San Francisco.” She scoots away from me, looking both confused and disgusted at the same time. “You don’t have to tell them I live in nineteen ninety-five.” She says that last part so quietly that I have to strain to hear her. But then she finds her voice again. “Look, I know you have a thing for secrets, but I thought we were done with that.”

“We are. I don’t have any secrets from you.”

“No, just that I am one.” She lets out a sarcastic-sounding breath.

She looks down at the dining hall windows, and this time, I’m sure she’s wondering why she ever entertained the idea of letting complicated me into her rather uncomplicated life.

“Look,” I say, “last June, when I was stuck in San Francisco and couldn’t get back here, I thought I’d never see you again. I didn’t know what to say to my parents or my friends.”

Anna gives me a hard look and shakes her head. “Everyone in my life knows about you, even though they don’t know your big secret.” She says the last part sarcastically, wiggling her fingers in front of her face for emphasis. “Nobody here gets it. None of them understand why I’m in a relationship with a guy who lives two thousand miles away—and they don’t even know the half of it.” She huffs. “But they know about you.

“I could never keep you to myself.” She says the last part quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

I rub my forehead with my fingertips as I try to find the right words. “I didn’t want to hurt you. And, I swear, I was going to tell them eventually, but it was just…easier not to.”

Her head snaps up and there’s that look again. “Easier?” she asks. Now I’m pretty sure she’s about to punch me.

“Not more convenient. Easier.” I bring my hand to my chest. “On me. Look, you seem to enjoy torturing yourself with photo albums and things that remind you of the two of us, but I don’t. That only makes it worse. It’s easier for me to pretend you’re not real when we’re not together.”

A tear slides down her cheek and she quickly brushes it away.

I reach for her hands, and I’m a little surprised when she lets me take them. “Do you have any idea how much I hate being there without you? When I’m supposed to be doing homework, I go for drives instead. I take the top down on the Jeep and turn up the music and cruise around the city I’ve always loved, and all I want to do is show it to you. I want to bring you to my favorite cafe in North Beach, where they serve lattes in bowls instead of mugs. I want to show you this wave organ that’s built into a bunch of rocks and has an insane view of Alcatraz. I want to bring you to my school and introduce you to Sam and the rest of my friends, so you’ll know them the same way I know Emma and Danielle and Justin. But I can’t ever do that.” She squeezes my hand. “We’ve already tried and it was a disaster. I guess I figured, the less I had to be reminded that you couldn’t be there, the easier it would be.”

Anna releases my hands so she can wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Look,” I say. “All I want is a normal relationship with you, and when I’m here, it feels like I have it. But when I’m there…I just miss you. All the time.”

She grabs one of my hands in both of hers and squeezes it tight.

“I’ll tell them about you, okay? I’ll show my mom and dad your photo album, and I’ll tell them everything. And I’ll explain that I’m done with do-overs—that they’re the only reason I’ve lost control—but that I need to keep coming back here to see you. Okay? I promise.”

The bell rings but neither one of us move. Eventually the dining hall below starts filling with people, and I spot everyone taking their usual places and their usual tables and starting in on their usual conversations.

“Great,” Anna mutters, watching the scene below.

“What?”

“Ten bucks says Alex has already told everyone about seeing you here.” She stands up and brushes the dirt off her jeans. “This should make for a delightful lunch.”

“Do you want me to stick around?” I ask.

Anna offers her hand to help me up and I take it. Then she looks at me and lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” We start walking down the hill and she threads her arm through mine. “But I’ll tell you, next time you’re in town you better bring me a giant bouquet of flowers or something. If you show up empty-handed my parents might come up with something more painful than being knocked back to San Francisco.”

“That bad?”

“Yup.”

“I didn’t get to see you in the dress.”

She lifts two fingers into the air. “Twice now.”

I wince. “Were you actually wearing it this time?”

She raises her eyebrows and nods slowly.

“God, I am an asshole.”

“Yeah.” She gives me a sad smile and bumps my hip with hers. “But not on purpose.”

* * *

Exactly fifty-five minutes after I left, I open my eyes in the men’s room stall. I push through the door just as the migraine hits. My eyes are burning as I stumble over to the sink, feeling my way with the help of the walls.

I find the spigot, turn it on, and stick my mouth under the stream. I drink as fast and as much as I can before cupping my hands and splashing cold water on my face. The fluorescent lights make it impossible to open my eyes, and my head is pounding, but at least it all feels familiar.

I push my hands into the countertop and keep my head down, breathing and concentrating, willing the pain to disappear. Twenty minutes later, the pounding subsides to a dull ache in my temples.

And it feels like everything is back to normal. Well, my normal, at least.

November 2012

26

San Francisco, California

The sound of my phone chirping wakes me from a deep sleep, and I roll over, pulling the comforter over my head to block out the sunlight. I’m starting to slip back into sleep again when there’s another chirp. I feel around on the nightstand for my phone and open my eyes to back-to-back texts from Brooke:

Good morning!

Hey, what r u doing tonight?