First & Forever

Chapter 30: Eloise

MAY

Not a word. He didn't say a single word.

"Elle, how about a movie night? I'll make brownies!" Mom calls, trying to slow my beeline up the stairs.

I turn back and catch her exchanging confused glances with Dad in the kitchen. Pausing mid step, I let out a breath. "I'm just going to lay down. I'm okay, really," I try to reassure them.

Lie. I'm not okay.

I poker faced my way through a post graduation family dinner, but my parents picked up on something the second I told them I wasn't going to Meredith's big sleepover tonight.

How can I?

He didn't say anything!

The moment my bedroom door comes into view, my eyes fill with hot heavy tears. Tears that I've been holding back ever since we left the arena after graduation. Tears that nearly spilled out of me when I took one last look at Will, laughing with his friends across the crowd.

Maybe I should have stayed to tell him goodbye, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. I said all that needed to be said, poured my heart out to him, and he didn't have anything to return. So, I did us both a favor. I wasn't about to stick around for him to feel like he had to let me down easy.

I quickly close my bedroom door and collapse against it, dropping my graduation gown, cap, and heels to the floor.

What just happened?

I knew not to get my hopes up. You don't give someone a gift expecting anything in return. You just don't. So, that's how I went in to today. Not expecting anything from him. Not needing anything from him. Heck, I even told him that. I don't need anything from you. Boy, did I fool myself into believing that one. Obviously, I do need something from him. I need words, dang it. Words! I wipe at the tears running down my cheeks. That doesn't seem like too much to ask.

I take a huffy breath and muster the courage to look up at the room in front of me. The Tiffany blue walls feel like yet another mistake tonight as I'm reminded of nothing but Will's eyes and the way they looked when I held his face confessing my all consuming love. I was so sure of what I saw in them. So sure that he was going to tell me he felt exactly the same way.

I groan, bouncing between anger and sadness as I look down the room at the pictures he helped me choose and hang not even a week ago. Pin this ribbon down the perimeter of the slanted ceiling to clip all of your favorite photos? Great idea, I told myself. You'll love being surrounded by your best memories, I said. Well, I'm an idiot. This is torture.

God, the memories lining these walls. Eight years and seven summers worth, to be exact. Our first blurry photos together in middle school, me and my little brothers piled on top of him, dances, game days, pool days, birthdays, junior prom, not-prom, the drive-in, the Middlebury College bridge.

The air escapes my lungs. The bridge.

I close my eyes as Will's words echo through my mind.

Give me five years, Elle. In five years, I'm so going to marry you.

Who knew so much could change in seven months?

I bite down on my lower lip, blinking back tears. If only we could go back to that day. Back to that us. When everything was simpler. When the fairytale felt possible. But we aren't those carefree kids anymore. No, reality came calling and made sure of that.

My phone buzzes and my hopeful heart skips, but it's not Will. My chin quivers as I toss it to the floor. I don't know why I keep expecting it to be him. It's been nearly three hours since I left the arena. If he had anything to say, I would have heard from him by now.

I flop down on the floor and reach for the notebook on the daybed behind me, furiously flipping through the pages. Why did I think tonight was a good idea? I mean, he leaves for his new life in a matter of days. A life that he's been longing for, waiting for, for years. A life far away from here. Far away from me. I should have known that it was too much to admit. That this mythic pull between us and the idea that it could see us through anything was just that, a myth, too good to be true.

I come to the page I was looking for and look down the senior year bucket list. The tears coming quicker at the sight of his hand writing. Perfect Senior Year, alright. I rip the page from the notebook, crumble it up, and toss it toward the waste basket before pulling my knees to my chest.

A few minutes later I hear a soft knock on my door. I wipe under my eyes, but I know, there's no use in trying to fake it anymore. "Come in," I sniffle. The door opens slowly and I see Emely directing our two little brothers through the door. Eli hands me a pint of Cherry Garcia and a plate of Mom's freshly made brownies while Emett sets down two folded pieces of green construction paper they've made into graduation cards.

I look up with bleary eyes, sending Emely a weak smile. "Thank you," I somehow manage to say without completely losing it as Eli and Emett both hug my neck before scurrying off.

"I thought you might want to see this," Emely says, handing me our little digital camera. "I'd give anything for someone to look at me like that," she admits softly.

I blink away a few tears and the first thing I see is a picture of me and Will in our graduation gowns. His arm is over my shoulders and he's looking down at me with the same adoring look that I love as he tucks me into his side for the picture.

Emely shuts my door back just in time. I drop my head in my hands and finally stop fighting it, letting the tears flow freely until I'm startled by a meow. Cal the Calico rubs against my knee and I let out a weary laugh at how the heck she got in here. I guess I could use an emotional support animal for the night.

When I've settled down enough, I reach behind me for the remote. My hand finds it, but it also finds something else. Will's sweatshirt. It's the one he gave me to change into in his car after his last football game. I clutch it to my chest, disappointed that it smells like laundry detergent and no longer like him. I lay it over my lap and turn the TV on, pressing play on whatever movie I've already got queued up. Made of Honor. Perfect. I skip through to my favorite scenes as I take unladylike spoonfuls of ice cream between spurts of tears.

I check my phone again. Still nothing.

But...

Eleven eleven - Make a wish.

I close my puffy, tear stained eyes, making the same wish I've been making for the last eight years.

Will.

Like I told him, I always wish for him. 

I reach for my necklace as my eyes fill back up. I'm sure some would describe this scene as pathetic, unnecessary, dramatic even; but those people weren't there for, well... All of it.

They don't know where we first kissed or the song we first danced to. They don't know the way it felt when we would lock eyes across crowded rooms or the meaning behind the necklace around my neck. They don't know the things we would whisper to each other in class or the notes we left in door handles. They don't know the dreams we had or where we had hoped to be in five years. They don't know about his car or the senior hall or our spot at the football stadium. And they definitely don't know about that morning in his bed.

They don't know and honestly, I can't blame them. If I weren't party to it, I wouldn't know any better either. But that's the problem, I do know. I know, with every fiber of my being the vigor and absolute magic that is us and our magnetic pull.

Sometimes - like this very moment - I wish I didn't know because maybe that would be easier. To live in blissful ignorance. To simply not know that kind of love exists. To not know that it's possible for another human being to touch not only your body in a way that makes you feel seen, but also your soul. To not know, first hand, that there actually is such a thing as a twin flame, a soulmate, fate. To not compare every other moment to all of the ones with him.

I close my eyes and lean back against the daybed, coming to the conclusion that I always do. One of resolve and acceptance that when it comes down to it, as much as it hurts and as lost as I feel, I wouldn't trade that knowledge for the world. I wouldn't trade us for the world.

And in this moment of resolve, my phone buzzes.