Happenstance 3 Read online

  "You want to be in Dallas."

  "I want to be with you."

  "Weston, couples go to different colleges all the time. It's going to be an adjustment, not seeing each other as much, but it won't be the end of the world."

  "See?" This time, he was the one standing up. He pointed at me while pacing. "That. That right there. Yes, I'm worried about going in different directions, that we'll grow apart, that you'll meet someone new. You're not?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "The fact that you're not worried about it kills me, Erin. It makes me wonder if you love me at all."

  The skin around his eyes was tight, and I could see his pulse throbbing on one side of his neck.

  "You want me to make promises I can't keep. You said we would wing this together. I'm winging it. I don't know what has changed--or why."

  He grabbed the remote off the table and chucked it across the room. The black plastic exploded into a hundred pieces, bursting in every direction. I jumped, covering my nose and mouth with my hands.

  Weston clasped his fingers at the crown of his head while he continued to pace back and forth, his cheeks flushed with frustration. "We're a little past winging it, Erin! Don't you think? I mean, what is this to you? Are you just passing the time until you leave for college?"

  "No!" I said.

  I was half-insulted but also half-desperate to make him feel better, to calm his fears, but neither one of us knew what would happen for sure. He would know I was lying if I tried to say otherwise.

  I stood, pulled his hands from his head and wrapped his arms around me. "Stop! Stop." I tried to keep my voice low. I pressed my cheek against his chest, making the subtle wheezing in his lungs more noticeable to me, and it worried me.

  He looked down into my eyes, searching for something. "Are you set on OSU? The University of North Texas is not even an hour away from where I'll be. It's one of the largest public universities in the nation. Next year, we could find a place somewhere in the middle--"

  I shook my head. "I've already been accepted. I haven't even applied to UNT. The out-of-state tuition would be ridiculous."

  "Sam and Julianne are paying, remember? UNT is a great university that offers everything OSU offers. There's not an Art Institute near Stillwater. Just apply, and--"

  "I'm not going to gouge my parents, so I'll be more conveniently located for you."

  "For me?" he said, incredulous.

  "And now you're talking about moving in together? In a year? I think I would have been more prepared for you to break up with me."

  Weston's mouth fell open, and I winced with regret.

  "I've wanted to go to OSU my entire life, Weston. Please try to understand that."

  "I've been in love with you my entire life."

  I sat on the couch and covered my face with my hands. After several moments of silence, I looked up at him. He hadn't moved.

  "What is this? An ultimatum? If I don't go to UNT, what then?"

  He sat next to me. "It's not an ultimatum. I was hoping you'd be excited. You haven't decided on a major. I just don't see why you can't go there instead. If you're wanting to get out of Blackwell, I can promise you that you'll run into a lot less people at UNT than you will at OSU." When I didn't respond, he continued, "Did you know that Brady's going to OSU?"

  "No, he's not," I said, shaking my head.

  "The Becks are OSU alumni."

  "That doesn't mean that he--"

  "He's going to OSU, Erin. He's been accepted. He's going. And I can't protect you from him if I'm in Dallas."

  "It's a big campus."

  "Erin--"

  "No. You're not going to scare me into doing what you want. I'm not afraid of him. I've never been afraid of him--or anyone."

  "Then, what's the point? What does it matter if you leave Blackwell when you'll be dealing with the same people?"

  "It's not high school. It'll be different. I doubt I'll ever see him."

  "Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

  "I'm not being stubborn! It's just something I want!"

  "You've never even been to the goddamn campus, Erin! How do you know if that's what you want?" he yelled. The veins in his neck were bulging from his reddened skin. He turned away from me. Then, he stood up and began pacing again with his fingers laced on top of his head.

  "You loved me before you spent time with me. Sometimes, you just know."

  Weston turned and sat on the coffee table in front of me, leaning over and gripping my knees. "I am. I am so in love with you. I don't want to be just a stop on your way out of here."

  "You're not," I said, a little too much desperation in my voice.

  "No relationship will work if it's not a priority. Definitely not a long-distance one. I'm afraid if it's not easy, if it's too much work, you're going to call me one day and tell me it's over. I need you to need me, Erin. If you don't, you're not invested enough to make this work."

  "Weston, are you listening to me? I'm telling you--"

  "Everything but what I want to hear."

  I frowned. "You want a promise."

  "I could make that promise. Right here, tonight, I can promise you that I can make this work. I can promise that I won't give up."

  I felt tears burning my eyes. "That's like promising you won't die or promising you'll never hurt someone. Some things aren't in our control. You can't promise we'll stay together because you don't know how you'll feel a year from now."

  "Yes, Erin. I can." He watched me for a long time, and then his jaw tensed. "Is it me you don't believe in? Or us?"

  "A few months ago, you were in love with a different Erin."

  He glared at me. "You know that's not true."

  "I'm not being difficult, Weston. I'm being realistic. I'm not trying to hurt you."

  "Then, promise you'll try."

  "Of course I'll try."

  He touched his forehead to mine, unsatisfied even with the words he'd asked me to say. "We don't have much time left. I'm counting down the days until we pack up and drive in different directions. It feels permanent. I don't know what's going to happen a year from now, but I know I will never get over you. And I will do anything to keep from having to try."

  "Weston," I whispered. I sucked in a breath. A tear spilled over and fell in a line down my cheek. "I can't do this for you. I have to do this for me."

  His face compressed as if he were in pain, and he spoke in a begging tone, "I know we're high school kids, and it's crazy to feel this way, but college is four years of my future. The rest is all you."

  I took a deep breath and touched his cheeks with my hands. "One of these days, you're going to be staring at my Oklahoma State degree on the wall in our house somewhere in Texas, and I'm going to remind you about our last week of high school and how worried you were over nothing."

  He laughed once without humor, and he looked so deeply into my eyes that my walls couldn't keep him out. "That sounds a little like a promise."

  I bit my lip. "It's a prediction."

  He looked down at the floor and then back up at me with a contrived smile. "I'll take what I can get."

  I FROWNED as Julianne pinned the maroon graduation cap onto my head. It was square and awkward, and it didn't make me feel accomplished at all.

  "Whose idea was it to wear hats that make us look stupid on a day when we're supposed to feel smart?" I asked.

  Julianne chuckled.

  Sam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. "I think you look very beautiful and incredibly smart."

  I offered a small smile. "Thanks."

  "I'm surprised you can fit your brain into that cap," Sam added, pushing up his round tortoise shell glasses.

  A single laugh burst from Julianne's mouth, and then she pressed her lips together, shaking her head as she continued to place pins in my hair.

  "Very funny," I said, trying hard not to laugh, too.

  Julianne kissed my cheek. "All done," she said, walking to sta
nd next to her husband.

  Sam held Julianne against his side.

  My mother held her fingers to her mouth and then rested her temple against Sam's shoulder. "Look at her."

  "I'm looking," Sam said quietly.

  Their expressions were that mixture of happy and sad that I'd become accustomed to from witnessing them simultaneously mourning the daughter they had lost and celebrating the daughter they had found.

  Julianne's cell phone rang, and she answered with a chipper voice, "Hi, Veronica." Her voice immediately lowered to a whisper, and she ducked into the hallway. "I don't...yes, she's here. I don't know. I'm sure she could, but...okay. Of course. Of course. Bye." She returned to the room, her eyes dancing between Sam and me. "Weston's...not doing well."

  "His asthma?" I asked, taking a step.

  She shook her head.

  "What's wrong?" Sam asked.

  "He's upset," Julianne said.

  I knew what she meant, and apparently, so did Sam because his eyes lit with realization.

  "I don't know how to make him feel better. I've tried," I said.

  "I'm not sure anyone can," Sam said. "It's something he might have to work out on his own."

  "He was thinking about enrolling at OSU," I said.

  "He what?" Sam said, pushing from the doorjamb to stand straight.

  "Then, he asked me to enroll at the University of North Texas. It's less than an hour from the Art Institute of Dallas."

  Julianne glanced at Sam before looking back at me. "Is that what you want?"

  After some hesitation, I shook my head. "No. I want to go to OSU."

  "Then, you shouldn't change your mind," Sam said.

  I picked at my nails. "He made good points. He said that UNT offers the same programs, but there's not a comparable art school near OSU. Since I haven't decided on a major, he doesn't understand why I won't switch schools."

  "He doesn't have to understand," Sam said. "I'm not apathetic to his feelings. I recognize his fear. I can't imagine how I would feel if I were in his shoes," he said, looking lovingly at his wife. "I'm sure it's worrisome, not knowing what might happen when you feel strongly about someone. But he has to let you go, Erin. If it's meant to be, it'll work out."

  "He doesn't have to let her go," Julianne said. "They can make it work, if that's what they both want."

  I nodded.

  "Is that what you want?" Julianne said.

  "I love him. But I love me, too."

  Julianne sighed and walked the few steps to pull me into one of her amazing hugs. "As you should."

  "He'll be okay," Sam said. "I have a feeling he's anxious about a lot of things. He's got some big changes coming up. You both do."

  Julianne gave me one more hug before releasing me. She straightened the tassel hanging from my hat and smiled. "Maybe you could go over there before we leave. Cheer him up. It should be a happy day."

  I nodded and walked past her and Sam to the hall, and then I descended the stairs. The front door whined as it opened, and I stepped out into the bright sunlight. With every step I took, my heart felt heavier, and my head felt fuller with thoughts of what to expect when I walked into the Gates' home. Sam's and Julianne's words stuck to the inside of my mind, repeating to the beat of my steps.

  He's upset.

  You shouldn't change your mind for anyone.

  It's worrisome.

  He doesn't have to let her go.

  Is that what you want?

  He'll be okay.

  I knocked on the thick wooden door and waited. After a full minute, no one came, so I knocked again. I waited, and nothing happened.

  I turned the knob, and I could hear voices coming from the back of the house, probably the living room. I walked in and closed the door behind me.

  Weston's words blurred together. His voice was raised. Peter and Veronica were trying to reason with him. He was more than upset.

  "Can you just try to enjoy the day?" Veronica pleaded. "You're not just ruining it for yourself, Weston. You're going to ruin it for her."

  "This isn't your last day with her," Peter said, his voice strained. "You'll have the whole summer."

  "Is that what Sam and Julianne said? Do they know something?" Weston said.

  "No," Peter said. "Weston, calm down. You're getting yourself worked up."

  I heard a rattle, and then Weston took a puff of his inhaler.

  "This is it," Weston said, sounding broken. "I waited too long. We didn't have enough time."

  "Enough time for what?" Veronica asked.

  "For her to have strong enough feelings for me. She doesn't feel the way I do."

  "Weston, you're eighteen. You've got your whole life ahead of you," Peter scolded. "Erin's a sweet girl, but she's not the only girl. If she moves on, then you can, too."

  "You don't get it," Weston said. "You just don't get it. If you had ever loved Mom the way I loved Erin, you wouldn't say that to me."

  "Weston!" Veronica screeched.

  I turned into the bathroom and pressed my back against the wall. If they knew I had heard their conversation, they would be embarrassed, and so would I. I had to get out of there before they realized I had let myself in.

  Weston's next words were muffled.

  Then, Peter spoke, "I know that it's better to feel that kind of love for even a little while than never at all. I also know if you keep pushing this, you're going to push her away."

  As I crept down the hall, Weston spoke again, "I can't help it. I love her. I've always loved her. I don't know what it is like not to. Now that I know what it's like to be with her, I'll never get over it. I don't think I should. Everyone keeps telling me that I have to let her go. But why would I do that to myself? I already know what it feels like to suffocate--to suck in a breath and not get enough air, no matter how many times or how deep. You say I'm being melodramatic, that I'm overreacting, but I know what dying feels like, and I've felt it more than once. This...this is worse."

  I slipped out of the front door and covered my mouth, reaching for the iron railing just as my knees gave way. Every faltering breath that filled my lungs made me think of his words and the agony and panic in his voice.

  After taking a few minutes to gather myself, I balled my hand into a fist and banged against the wood. Weston had been looking forward to these last days of high school, and I wasn't going to let him regret anything. Even if I was the only one still winging it, he needed to hear a few simple words from me, and I would say them--words that I was afraid to say out loud, but that didn't make them any less true.

  When no one came to the door, I rang the doorbell, listening to what sounded like cathedral bells pealing an intricate tune.

  Veronica answered the door, her expression tired. "Erin," she said, relieved.

  "Can I come in?" I asked.

  She stepped to the side and opened the door wider. "Yes, please. He's in the family room."

  I rushed down the hall, past the basement door and the kitchen, and I abruptly stopped five feet from Weston. His back was still turned.

  "Weston?" I asked, unsure if he even wanted to see me.

  He turned. His eyes were red, his cheeks flushed. "Did they tell you to come?"

  I shook my head, hoping he would believe the lie. I didn't want to upset him further. "I wanted to see you."

  "Not like this. I'm a freakin' mess."

  "You're nervous. We all are. It's okay."

  He hooked a couple of his fingers on each hip and stared at the floor. His chest rose with each deep breath he took as he attempted to calm down. "I feel crazy sometimes. I mean...I knew I was crazy about you, but...damn it. I can't control this. It's scary as hell."

  "Talk to me," I said.

  "It's the end, isn't it? We've got a few weeks of summer left, and then it's over."

  "No," I said, shaking my head. "Why won't you believe me?"

  His eyes danced around the room, finally settling on me. "I've been waiting, listening, watching. I've been hoping you'l
l say what I need to hear. I don't even know what that is, Erin. Every passing day just makes me feel worse."

  "It's not supposed to be like this," I said, my voice small. "You're not supposed to be miserable. We're supposed to be making good memories, remember?"

  He nodded and then reached for me. I took the few steps and melted into his chest, allowing his arms to encompass me.

  "Hey," I whispered, hoping my voice was comforting. I gripped his maroon graduation robe in my fists, trying to pretend I hadn't heard every excruciating thought he just confessed.

  He buried his face in my neck, his breaths jagged. He was getting more upset, and it was frustrating to know that the more I'd tried to put him at ease, the worse he seemed to feel. I would have to change my strategy.

  "Weston," I snapped, forcing him to look into my eyes, "I've been thinking about what we talked about the other day."

  He held his breath, bracing himself.

  "You're wrong. You are all kinds of wrong about everything."

  "That...sucks," he said. He furrowed his brow.

  "I do need you."

  He leaned away from me, searching my eyes for something.

  "I know you don't think I do, and that's my fault. Maybe I didn't want to need you. But I needed you to come to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream every day just so I could have that one moment when it was just you and me. I needed you to pull up next to me when I was walking home that night. I needed you to make the overpass the first place I ever felt safe. I needed you to kiss me in front of everyone at the ball field. I needed you to share my first limo ride. I might even need you to be afraid to lose me because I'm terrified of losing you."

  "You don't...act like it," he said, the words seeming to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

  "I don't want to talk about how we're going to make this work after this summer because I don't want to think about it. I just want it to work. I just want us to figure it out."

  Weston's eyebrows pulled in. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "No, you are. And so am I. We're going to say good-bye in a couple of months, but I just concentrate on the fact that it will not be forever. OSU is going to be my second home, and Dallas will be yours. My new friends will be yours, too. And even when we don't have experiences together, they'll just be something else we can spend an hour laughing about on the phone. We're going in different directions, but we can always come back to us. We're home base."