Page 67 of Stops Along the Way
But it would really be great to get home and see my sister and my parents, as well as catch up with Peyton and Elizabeth.
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve texted him yet,” Amelia says. “Don’t make me have Grady do it for you.”
“As if he has time to meddle while saving the country.” Grady never fails to send out election reminders, and I know he and Amelia keep in touch somewhat regularly, but surely I can find my own way home without needing to involve Declan Weber.
“Well, just making it clear that you have options,” Amelia says, winding down our call.
I don’t respond as I climb the stairs to my floor and let myself into my dorm. My room is bright and welcoming, as Naomi and I have collected tapestries over the last three years to cover as many of the plain cinder blocks with as much color as possible.
“All right?” Amelia asks.
“Yeah, sure, options. Okay, well, I’ll catch you later, or not, we’ll see!” We conclude our goodbyes and hang up.
I flop onto the thin mattress and stare at the ceiling.Ugh.My brain was almost entirely free from dwelling on this boy, but here I am, already spiraling again.
It’s true, college has been nothing but options, to an almost overwhelming degree. Every semester when I choose my courseload, there’s more classes that I want to take than can reasonably fit into my schedule—and dozens of internships to apply for, though I’ve got my heart set on working at the museum here in Indianapolis next summer.
And, well, options on the romantic front, too, to a less successful extent. I’ve dated a bit, but mostly because it felt like I should. A guy asks me out, and he’s nice, and I easily brush past any initial concerns to give things a try, and yet…just when I finally wrap my head around things and start to get excited about the potential of the relationship, it all crumbles.
Dating is so frustrating. The highs don’t seem to outweigh the lows.
The most comfortable I’ve felt with a guy on campus wasn’t even a dating situation. It was freshman year when I spent every single day with Declan.
Inseparable. Introducing ourselves to people as a unit.
“We’refrom Omaha.” “Wedesigned a board game together.” “…Um, no,we’renot dating.” “Really, we’re not.Why do you ask?”
Initially, I relished those questions, appreciating that everyone else clearly saw what I felt, that there was something burgeoning again between me and Declan. Because it really seemed like there was. There were plenty of moments. Lingering hands. Prolonged gazes. Trailed-off comments that almost led to a relationship-status-changing question.
But what no one saw was that every time it felt like Declan and I were ready to throw ourselves back into each other’s arms again, all it took was one serious look in his eyes for me to be right back at the roller rink.
Sitting on that wobbly chair, my heart sinking in my chest, and his rejection fresh all over again, cutting deeper each time it replayed in my memory until it became all I could think about around him.
At first, I thought I could push past it. That we could get back together and suddenly it would all be fine, but every time I let my brain thinkWell, maybe this time…I’d realize I was just setting myself up for disappointment. That I was lowering my guard and being too vulnerable with someone who shouldn’t get a second chance with my affection, because should I really give anyone another opportunity to break my heart?
But Declan wasn’t anyone…
It was an exhausting game of mental chess, a lose-lose match against my own insecurities, in which I could only confront the negatives. The fear. All the reasons why us getting back together shouldn’t have been considered in the first place.
Even though I really, really wanted to.
The final nail in the coffin was the moment when a girl pulled me to the side just before spring break to ask, “Okay, then, so is Declan single?”
And I had to say, “Yeah, I think so.”
Shortly after that, without really meaning to, I began to distance myself. During sophomore year, I’d forget to answer some of his texts after class. Wouldn’t be free to meet up for lunch in the dining hall. And most recently, Declan stayed in Indy over this past summer while I was back home.
I knew he was busy with people here, so I didn’t reach out.
Neither did he.
It was tricky to keep our friendship going when it felt like both of us were withdrawing. Though, admittedly, I was the one who vanished first.
Simply because it hurt too much.
I thought we would reconnect this fall at the start of junior year, especially at the Bulldogs Board Game Club, which has been a staple of my college experience so far. But I’ve been scheduled for my part-time job in the package room at the exact same time as the meetups this semester. My boss didn’t give a shit when I asked if there was any flexibility in changing that. Just told me that I should hope it wouldn’t conflict in the spring and that next year, with more seniority, I could have more of a say in my work schedule.
I considered letting Declan know why I wouldn’t be there, but instead, I waited to see if he’d text asking where Iwas…and, once again, he never did. That felt like a pretty clear indication of where we’re at these days, and I hate it.
