The Unproven Theorem of You and I

prologue

 "We should love, not fall in love, because things that fall get broken." – Taylor Swift

prologue

           HER PHONE BUZZED for the thirteenth time. Elle was counting. She sat, crumpled against her bedpost, and watched as the number of missed calls from JOHN <3 slowly added up.

            Someone knocked against the door and let herself in. Elle looked up from her phone to see her mother standing in the doorway, eyeing her forlornly. "Baby girl, maybe you should talk to him about it."

            And for the thirteenth time, Elle's skinny body erupted in chokes and sobs. Her figure shook with so much emotion that her mother feared her daughter might pass out again. Her mother drifted across the room, silk nightgown swishing, and sat at the foot of Elle's bed. She put a slender hand on Elle's quivering knee. "Ellie, you'll have to talk it out sooner or later."

            "I don't ever wanna see his face again!" Elle choked out, burying her face in her hands. She'd taken off her glasses and let the tears flow freely. Her cheeks were already blotchy and pink from all the crying. "Mom, I can't believe I trusted him! I nearly died." 

            There was no melodrama in her shaky, but terrifyingly firm, voice. "I was out for three days. That honestly could've been the end of Gabriella Rivera." 

            "I understand, Baby Girl, but you're teenagers. Teenagers make mistakes." Her mother stroked her soft, light brown hair gently. "John's a nice boy. I'm sure that if you explain your... condition, things can become normal again between you two."

            "I don't want things to become normal. They can never be." Elle put on her glasses unsteadily met her mother's warm, chestnut-brown eyes. She noticed the small creases on her mother's temples and between her eyebrows. She hadn't seen them before. "Mom, you didn't see the way he looked at me when I backed out. He called me boring! He said no one likes a chicken as a girlfriend."

            "I'm sure he didn't mean it, honey." 

            "He did." Elle glared at her fingertips. "Deep down, I know he did."

            This was followed by a long silence between the mother and daughter. Elle's phone began buzzing again.

            "Elle, you should answer him." Her mother gave her an assuring look and a tender smile. "You won't regret it."

            I swear you won't regret it. His words reverberated in her ears. Elle's teeth clenched and she let out a deep breath, willing herself to smile and meet her mother's eyes. "Okay, Mom. I will. But can I be alone?" She searched her mother's eyes for a hint of understanding. "Please?"

            She heard her mother close the door behind her softly. And calming her quickening heartbeat, Elle's fingers closed around the body of her phone and answered it on the fifth ring.

  

"ELLE? I'VE BEEN trying to call you for hours!" John's breathless voice immediately rushed into her ears. She closed her eyes for a moment and drained the emotional flood slowly building up inside her heart. She already knew what she was going to say. She wanted to keep it as quick and short as possible.

            His voice was slightly slurred and raspy at the edges, as if he'd fallen asleep between calls and had just woken up. She almost felt bad for him. John had been calling ever since she'd been released from the hospital.

            "I'm sorry," she said, although she realized that she was not. If it weren't for him... "I had to think about... stuff."

            She could sense accusation in his drowsy voice. "Stuff?" he repeated slowly.

            Elle swallowed a lump in her throat. "Us." 

            He didn't even hesitate. John rushed to fill the silence even before it settled in. "What do you mean, Elle? We've been strong for almost a year, and one bump, you're throwing everything we had in the trash?"

            It was all she could do to keep her voice steady. But as she spoke, her words came out clipped anyway. Her pulse was throbbing between her ears. She could basically hear him breathing on the other end of the line. 

        She almost didn't want to say what she was going to say next.

        You know, almost.

        She adjusted her sweaty grip on the phone. And then, "This isn't just a bump, John. This is a dead end. As much as we want to change the past, 'we' ends here."

  

        THAT HAPPENED A year ago.

        Elle was ready to risk everything to make sure it would never happen again.