Ten Years Later

     I hadn’t seen Jesse in about ten years. We met back in ninth grade and immediately had a lot in common. We could have been good friends. Instead, he professed his love and I dumped him, only to realize that was the dumbest mistake in my life. Not only had I hurt him and ruined everything between us, but I chose that moment to discover my strong feelings for him. Oh yeah, and somewhere in there, he started dating my former best friend, Rebecca.

When we graduated high school and went off to different colleges, communications dwindled to near nonexistence. My heart would leap with every text from him, only to fall and shatter into a million pieces on the ground. But eventually, I found his presence in my thoughts less and less often. More or less, I moved on. I saw other guys, I graduated, I got a job teaching English. I had no idea what happened to him after maybe our freshman year of college. And now here he was in the fucking Home Depot.

           I did the only natural thing. My shaking hands dropped the box of nails I was buying. The tinkling crash of them hitting the ground hurt my ears. My breathing quickened as he looked my way. Any hopeful doubt about his identity vanished as his eyes met mine. I have never seen deeper brown eyes. I quickly bent to pick the nails up. Despite being long used to my own klutziness by this point, my cheeks still burned red. When I straightened up, Jesse stood much closer than he had been moments before. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open.

“Cate?” he asked in what I like to think was something close to awe. He cleared his throat. “Er, Caitlin Marsh?”

“Um, yeah.” My blush deepened and I watched the familiar smirk start to cross his face. He always made fun of my easy blush. I looked down at my feet, more than happy to let him do the talking.

“Do you remember me? Jesse Hawthorn, from high–”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do.” We had only seen each other almost every day for four years. My memory wasn’t that bad. He looked away, unsure of what else to say. I took the opportunity to study him more closely. His hair was shorter than when I last saw it, but not too short. It was still wavy and glossy as ever. He was taller too. I hadn't imagined it possible when he was already a head taller than me when we met. His jaw was squarer, his face thinner. I pretended not to save his hands for last, letting out a reluctant sigh of relief when I saw no ring on his left hand, fourth finger.

Stop it, I told myself. You got over him a long time ago. But I felt like a teenager all over again. Besides, no ring doesn’t mean anything. I tried to wipe the emotion from my face when I realized he was staring at me while we stood in awkward silence. Scrambling for a reaction, I settled on a scowl when I remembered that my head barely passed his broad shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he wondered, seeing my change in expression.

“You are a giant freak of nature,” I blurted, waving my hands up and down at him. He laughed. It was something I always told him when we were younger.

“It’s not my fault you are a midget,” he responded, shrugging.

I ran a hand through my hair and chuckled grudgingly. “Nothing’s changed I guess.”

Jesse shook his head, his eyes lingering on my face. Then he grew more serious. “You’re wrong,” he said. I raised a questioning eyebrow. “You are even more beautiful than I remember.” My jaw literally dropped.

           That was the thing about Jesse. He could act normal, or as normal as possible for him, for weeks. He would barely speak to me, then drop something so… so crazy and heart stopping and… and I don’t know what else.

“Oh. Th-thanks,” I mumbled. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. My heart felt in danger of spontaneous combustion and my mind was blank.

“You’re welcome,” he responded gruffly. He made no comment about the total disbelief I’m sure was evident on my face.

We stood there silently, waiting for the wave of tension to ebb. My brain frantically searched for ways to stop this before I could get sucked back in, but something else wouldn’t let me budge.

“So,” he said in a lighter voice. “What brings you to Home Depot?” As if the last minute and a half hadn’t even happened.

“I needed nails to hang a few pictures,” I replied hollowly, holding up the box of nails. I hated that box of nails for getting me into this mess. I never would have approached Jesse on my own. I would have let him slip out of my life again and rationalized it later. But at the same time, I couldn’t help thanking God or whatever made this tiny miracle happen.

Jesse nodded. “Need any help?” he asked casually.

My eyes narrowed. “No, I am perfectly capable of hanging pictures by myself.” I bit my lip. I was always too defensive, especially around him.

“Hey, I know that,” he said, holding his hands up. He scratched the back of his neck, looking slightly frustrated. I sighed. I always reverted into a fifth grader with a crush around him, mean and teasing, trying to mask my actual feelings. Feelings you don’t have, I told myself.

     More silence. I mean, what the hell do you say to a guy you haven’t seen in nearly a decade? What do you tell the lo – him after all this time? How do you stop yourself from asking the things you are dying to know because if you do, it will be awkward…er?

“So, what have you been up to?” I practically shouted at him. I hadn’t meant it to come out so loud and abrupt. Wincing, I tried to appear apologetic. He just looked at me for a moment.

“I’ve been running a motorcycle riding class the last few years.” My mind filled with images of Jesse clad in black leather, straddling a Harley. Motorcycles weren’t my chosen mode of transportation, but I knew that if he ever offered me a ride, I would take it. Focus, I told myself. He was waiting for a response.

“That’s cool.” Nice response.

“Do you like to ride?”

“Um, I’ve never really done it before. I backed into a motorcycle once though. I burned my leg on the pipe,” I told him, twisting my leg to reveal the scar on my calf.

“You should come over sometime. I can give you a few pointers, like how not to burn yourself,” he suggested, smiling at his own good idea. I smiled back. It didn’t reach my eyes.

“Sure, I would love to.” But like all his other plans, I knew this one wouldn’t pan out. He’d forget, move on.

           I could feel the magic of the moment fading. I dragged myself away from him for a few moments and took a quick peek at my watch. Nearly ten minutes had gone by with us just standing here. People were walking around us in a rushed flurry that I found disorienting, like a gust of wind breaking through the perfect little bubble that seemed to surround us. I didn’t want this, whatever was now between him and me, to end. But I could hear reality banging on the doors. I knew I should let it in, before I was drawn further down this rabbit hole. I looked up and saw Jesse’s eyes on my watch. Then he also glanced around us and took an unconscious step away from me. He looked into my eyes, as if searching for something. I wondered what he found, for a moment later he coughed and said,

“Well, I should probably get going. I don’t want to keep you all day.”

My stomach sank. I felt cold despite the hot summer air. I wanted him to keep me all day. Longer. No you don’t, said my ever quieting voice of reason. Who was I kidding? Of course I did. I always had.

“Yeah, okay.” But for all the emotions raging around inside me, I knew I wouldn’t say a word or make a gesture to reveal myself. Too long I had been repressing how I felt and this time was no different. I would let him walk away as if I had never dropped that damn box of nails. And I was too insecure, too shy, too socially handicapped…too much of a coward to do anything about it. I always had been.

“It was really good seeing you, Cate.” He sounded like he meant it. I shot him my well-practiced grin while discreetly taking deep breaths to prevent my chest from exploding.

“Likewise.” I hesitated, but then, what the hell? “You should look me up some time. We can hang out.” Another shallow suggestion. But he returned my grin anyway.

“That would be awesome.” I laughed, just once. My favorite word, our word. We stood facing one another and I swear I could feel a mushroom cloud of tension expanding between us. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to hug him goodbye, at the very least to get the closure I never got so many years ago. I stared desperately into his beautiful eyes, wishing that somehow he could resurrect that short lived and long dead talent to read my mind. But no. He regarded me with a solemn expression before turning around and walking back the way he had come. Jesse was wrong. Nothing had changed.

Why did I do this to myself? Why was I such an emotional masochist? I certainly didn’t revel in the pain I felt, but I ran to it all the same, triggered it without a second thought. And I knew I would do it again if it meant seeing him.

I replayed everything that had happened from the moment I saw his familiar figure. What was he looking for when he searched my eyes? Interest? Boredom? I wished whatever he had seen had made him stay, just a second longer. But deep down, I knew that it would only be one second, one day, one week more that it took to rid him from my mind. I knew he wouldn’t reach out, not any time soon. It wasn’t in his nature. Now I had to convince my obsessive personality to let go all over again. Not to forget, but to refrain from thinking about him. To stop letting myself be haunted by ten-year-old history, as I was today.

I was amazed when I made it home. I had no recollection of the drive. I tossed the nails into a corner, all desire to hang pictures gone. I turned off my phone to keep from checking it every other minute for texts I knew weren’t coming. As it was, I would have to endure the hurt when I turned it on later, knowing it would be blank, but hoping all the same.

I put it off as long as I could. I ate a long lunch. I cleaned up the entire kitchen. I straightened already meticulously organized counters and shelves. Finally, I could go no longer without a distraction. I groaned internally, went to turn my phone on, and told myself not to expect anything.

So I gasped audibly when my phone screen lit up. My eyes actually prickled with moisture. There was one small blue message beneath a name I never thought I would see on my phone again. My fingers fumbled as I clicked on the message. It was an audio file. It was the one song I had eventually stopped listening to because of the pain it caused, the memories it stirred. His song, our song: ‘Flying Without Wings’ by Westlife.

Jesse had sent this song to me in the early days of our relationship, a gesture of affection. No one had ever sent me a song before and I had thought it was the sweetest thing. I first noticed him in a music class and I adored his voice. His voice sounded exactly the same as I remembered. Now the tears came.

I listened to the entire song and when the music ended, Jesse spoke.

“I don’t want to leave things the way we did. I know you might not feel the same and I haven’t given you much reason to value our friendship, but if you do, call me. Please.”

Without thinking, I scrolled down my contacts until I found his name. My thumb hovered over the screen. Did I really want to throw myself back into this? What if it only led to more pain? But it was never a real choice. He picked up on the second ring.

“J-Jesse?” His name felt foreign and wonderful on my tongue.

“Hey, Cate,” he said softly.

“Your song…it was amazing.”

“Thanks. And thanks for calling.”

“You asked me to, very nicely. What…um, up?” I tried to keep my voice as emotionless as possible.

“I want to talk to you. I haven’t seen you in years. A few minutes at the Home Depot isn’t much of a reunion.”

“Oh. Well, what did you want to talk about?”

“Uh, well, could you come over? Or I could. I mean, we should talk face to face after so long.” His tone was almost anxious.

I frowned. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I hedged. My heart was already aching. Surely seeing him would cut it to ribbons. I was trying to keep myself whole for once.

“Why do you do that? Hesitate, hide? What is it that is always holding you back?” he said in a frustrated huff.

“Well, Rebecca.” I blurted out the name of my former best friend without considering the consequences. His burst of anger caught me off guard. But I never once broached this subject with him, ever. “Um, I mean… you’ve always had…someone, you know. It was weird.” I mumbled, trying to gloss over what I said. But not as weird as right now.

“I broke up with Rebecca the summer after freshman year of college. Things weren’t working out.” He sounded surprised. His voice had lost the frustration. It turned tender. “I’m single now.” One year. All I’d had to do was wait one year? You’ve done enough waiting. I knew it was true. But still.

“Oh…uh–”

“You should really come over. This is awkward over the phone.” I couldn’t disagree. I realized I was quickly running out of reasons to decline. I tried not to think it, but I considered the possibility that he really wanted to see me. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Right, just a chat.

“Okay. Where do you live?” He texted the address. When he hung up, he sounded happier. Personally, my stomach was a ball of knots. I checked the address and had to resist the temptation to throw my phone at a wall. All this time, he had lived maybe three miles away. Three fucking miles! Sometimes I hated the world.

           I tried to keep my mind blank as I drove, reigning in my tendency to develop unattainable expectations. It didn’t take long to reach his house. It was picturesque, from the pale yellow siding to the white picket fence. I stood on the front porch for a good five minutes before getting up the nerve to knock. He answered immediately and I suddenly suspected he’d been watching for me. My face reddened. He smiled and touched my cheek.

“I miss making you blush,” he said, almost to himself.

“I don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes never left mine. I squirmed under his gaze, waiting for him to say whatever was on his mind.

“You know, I couldn’t believe it when I saw you today,” he continued. “It was like a dream. You really do look great.”

“Jesse, where is this–” but he silenced me with a pleading look.

“Please let me finish?” I nodded for him to go on. “I’ve thought about you a lot over the years. I wanted to call so many times, but already so much time had passed. It would have felt weird. Then I had school and work. It never seemed like the right moment and before I knew it, ten years had gone by. But I never stopped thinking about you, not once. Late at night, I would remember how we talked until three in the morning, the weird faces you made when you sang, the way you talked with your hands all the time, our first homecoming, when you kissed me…”

“It was my first kiss,” I croaked. My mind was reeling. So many things I had done and dwelt on, and he had too. His eyes seemed to burn.

“Mine too.” He sucked in a breath. “What I am trying to say is…I mean…I don’t know if you do, but…it took a while to figure it out, but I think deep down I always knew…I lo–”

For once, I didn’t overthink. I didn’t hold back or hide. I closed the space between us in a single step and brought my lips to his. So long I had dreamed about this exact moment. Walls down, acts gone. He pulled me closer to him. I was so warm there in his arms. I let go of a breath I think I had been holding since the ninth grade.

 When he pulled back, I blinked and felt tears on my cheeks. Jesse wiped them away with his hand. He held my face.

“Even after all this time?” he asked.

“Always.”