Wonderwall

Chapter 9

"Em, he got me flowers." I grumble into the phone. "I hate flowers."

"Oh, stop being so horrible." Emma says. "I think it's sweet."

"Emma, he got me a whole bouquet. How awkward!"

She sighs.

"It's not awkward unless you make it awkward."

"Emma, I want to throw them away." I say.

"No. Put them in water and suck it up."

"This is so uncomfortable." I mutter. "I don't have any vases. I'm going to put them in a beer can." I say.

"No! Holy shit, at least put it in a glass cup!" she says.

"Fine." I mutter.

I put them in a glass cup and fill it with water, and then I leave them.

I don't like flowers."

"I am not relationship material." I mutter.

"I feel like you're wasting fucked up you on Noah. Like..." she sighs. "Get your shit together and then come back. Honestly."

Today was the last game of the season. It's August. Season starts again in March.

My phone vibrates. I put Emma on speaker, going to messages. In the group chat with the team.

Coach: hey guys, we all need to meet at the stadium in the office to discuss contracts.

"I don't know where to start at though, Em."

"Want advice?" she asks.

"Yes." I sigh.

"Take time off, explore the world. Find your parents. Take some time, time thatv you really deserve, and figure shit out."

I frown, thinking.

"I guess." I say. "Yeah, I think I will...what about Noah though? He's really great. I can't just..."

"He said he would wait." She whispers. "Just...just tell him."

"I'll do it today." I say.

<><>

So I left, getting a cab to the stadium.

I walk to the office, and I'm late, as always.

I can't even look at Noah.

"Alright." Coach says. "Now that everyone is here. Raise your hand if you're not going to resign."

No hands raise.

"Raise your hand if you're not sure yet."

My heart is pounding.

Hesitating, I rasie my hand.

Everyone looks at me.

"What?" coach says.

I sigh, shrugging.

Noah knows.

He takes one look, and he knows.

I avoid his glance.

"Brooke," Coach starts.

"I really don't want to talk about it." I say. "I'm not saying no, I'm just saying I'm not sure yet."

"So are you, or are you not resigning today?"

I can't put a time limit on this.

I look down, shutting my eyes.

"I'm not resigning today."

Silence.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I have things I need to do." I say. "I'm a little fucked up, and I need to figure shit out. I want to stay, but I can't put a time limit on it."

He nods, understanding.

"So what are you going to do if you finish whatever you're going to do?" he asks. "And you come back?"

I shrug.

"Wait out the season, I guess."

He scowls.

"How about I sign you, and then when you don't show up, I won't penalize you."

I shake my head.

"No." I say.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because I'll still be on the roster. I'll still get paid. That's too complicated."

He sighs.

"Fine." He says. "I hope it all works out."

"Yeah, me too. Can I go now?"

"Yeah." He says, frowning. "You can go."

I walk out, and I know Noah is following me.

I want to avoid a goodbye, so I run.

He chases after me, catching me right as I get outside.

"Hey." He says, catching my hand. "What's going on?" he whispers.

I look down, and then back at him.

"I'm leaving, Noah." I look away.

He's quiet for a really long time.

"I understand." His voice is thick with sadness, but when I look at him, he smiles softly.

"I-I-I need to go find myself. I don't recognize myself. I never have. I need to find me. I need to find where I'm from. I need to...I need to find me, before I can even think about trying to start something with you, because I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to live. I don't know how to love. I don't know what to do with my life. I need to find me."

"I understand." He whispers, reaching out to brush one of my tears away. "Take your time." He murmurs. "I'll wait. I'll keep your things in your locker the way you left them. I can't fix you, and I can't save you. This is something that you have to do. I know that. I can't get inside of you, in your heart, if you're not even there yourself. So, when you find yourself, come back to me."

"And...and what if, what if you meet somebody?" I bite my lip.

"I will meet a lot of people, but none of them are you. I want you, Brecklyn. When I think about moving on, I'll just picture you with the wind in your hair, standing up on the side of the mountain in the Jeep. You're easy to hold on to, Brecklyn."

"Okay." I whisper. "Alright."

"Okay." He says. "I'll see you...when I see you." He says softly, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"Okay." I whisper.

He lets his hand rest there, on the side of my face. I press my hand against his, shutting my eyes.

After a while, he pulls his hand away.

"Goodbye, Brecklyn."

I listened to that song while I wrote it and I cried.