Across the Pond

Chapter 62

I didn't know that cellphone lock boxes were a thing until I researched 'ways in which I can avoid looking at my phone'. 1. So that I don't have the urge to call Nico. 2. So that I don't have the urge to wait around for a text from him.

We're going on 3 weeks now. 3 weeks without speaking. 3 weeks without seeing each other. And I don't know what makes me more upset - the fact that it's been this long or the fact that Nico hasn't tried to reach out. I've thought about being the first one to crack, and I almost did. But I refrained. It took willpower on my end. Lots and lots of it.

I have 1 more week left of summer. 8 days from now, and I'll be on my way back to New York. Usually, I'd hate the end of summer because it meant having to say goodbye to Nico and then waiting 10 months until I got to see him again, but going into this summer was different. I was excited because I knew that we'd both be in New York with Nico attending Columbia and me wrapping up my senior year of high school in Long Island. At least, that was the plan.

Hanging with Brooks right now, I'm tempted to ask him about Nico. How he's been. If he's ready to start working for his dad. But I'm not going to cross that line. One of the reasons why I love my friendship with Brooks is because it's its own relationship. I know I've said this before, but it's the truth. My relationship with Nico - or lack thereof, currently - never affected Brooks. He never chose a side or put himself in the middle.

Brooks and I met in town for smoothies. His idea - not mine. He came from the gym and whined about how he needed the Peanut Butter Protein smoothie from John's Juice Bar. 

"Let's grab a seat over there," Brooks says, nodding to the wooden bench that's on the corner of the sidewalk. He sits first and then watches me sit. "Man, B, I feel like I barely saw you this summer. It's nice to know that I'm at the bottom of your list of priorities," he teases, and I pout my lips at him.

"You know it's not like that."

He circles the straw in his cup, smoothing out the chucks of banana in his drink. "Nah, it's all good. I always came in second to Nico, anyways." Realizing that he let Nico's name slip from his mouth, he then says, "Shit, I'm sorry, B. I didn't mean to bring him up."

"All good," I say, which I mean. I don't want to force myself not to talk about Nico because that won't help me get over him. Getting over him has got to be natural, and unfortunately, having a conversation that involves his name is only natural.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks, but hesitantly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really, but I hate this. I hate that you guys aren't speaking."

I skew my lips to the side. Why do I feel guilty for everyone hating that Nico and I aren't speaking? Mom. Brooks.

"How is he?" I finally ask, not intending to, but - let's be real - I have to know.

"The truth? Miserable."

I look down, partially feeling like the cause of that. Obviously, I'm not looking for Nico to be jumping for joy that we're not speaking, but I don't want him to be miserable. 

"I know that he misses you like crazy," Brooks continues. "Your name slips from his mouth every 5 seconds. But I also know that he loves you enough to give you the space that you asked for."

"I didn't want to ask for it," I clarify. "I just, I can't do the back and forth with him anymore. One day he wants to be with me, the next day he's telling me that he's not good for me. It's confusing, not to mention, draining."

"He always wants to be with you, B. That'll never change. It's the circumstances in his life that make him feel like he shouldn't be. We both know that Nico's life is messy, and he doesn't want to draw you into that. To be honest with you, I kind of respect him for it."

"But it's my choice, Brooks. No one but me should get to decide who I want to be with. You think that I don't know how rough Nico has it with his parents? I know. And my heart breaks just thinking about it. If anything, though, that shouldn't push Nico away from me. It should make him want to be with someone who he knows loves him wholeheartedly. And that's what I do. I love him with my entire being."

Brooks chews on his lower lip, thinking about what it is that I'm saying. "No, I know. You're right. I know that you probably don't want to hear this, but you're going to find your way back to him, just like he's going to find his way back to you. You might need the space right now, but soulmates never drift apart for good. They always come back together."

***

Brooks drops me home, but we make a plan to hang out one more time before I have to head back to New York. When I walk into the house, mom and Grandma Ruby are sitting on the couch in the living room, laughing and going through old picture albums.

"Oh my gosh, look at how cute Isabella is there," Grandma Ruby points to the photo in her hand and says.

"That was at her 5th birthday," mom says. 

"Uh oh," I joke when I enter. "Looking through old pictures, are we? Should I make a run for it now?"

"Ha-ha, very funny," mom pretends to laugh, patting down the space beside her. "Come sit."

I walk over to the couch and take a seat next to her, glancing over her shoulder at the picture. I really was a cute kid.

"I can't believe you made me wear that," I state of mom's decision to dress me in an ugly plaid dress.

"Plaid was very in back then," mom justifies.

"Uh-huh," I say.

The teapot whistles from the kitchen, and Grandma Ruby gets up from the couch. "Be right back," she states. "Isabella, would you like a cup of Chamomile?"

"No thanks," I tell her, continuing to sift through the photos with mom.

"Oh, honey," mom stops what she's doing and says, "before I forget...come with me for a second."

I look at her quizzically, but follow her into the hallway. She stops at the console table and hands me a silver sparkly gift bag.

"This arrived for you today," she says, and I squint my eyes at her before taking it from her grip. "It's not from me, if that's what you're thinking."

I try to peer into the bag, but the white paper stuffing is making that hard to do. "Who's it from then?"

She smiles at me and says, "Why don't you read the card and find out?"