The Tree Remembers

Starting Fresh

"No, it's okay, I promise. I just need a couple days," I answered. He sighed again.

"I wish you would just let someone take care of you," he said. I laughed and shook my head. "Bye, Ellie-girl."

"Bye, Nick," I quipped before hanging up.

I got up and turned my stereo on before grabbing a book and going back to my couch to read. I was being transported away from my situation, getting lost in the book. I was pulled out of my imagination by a knock at my door. I sighed and smiled before getting up.

"Nick, I told you I didn't need anything!" I called out. I swung the door open, and my smile disappeared. Eddie was standing in front of me, smiling bashfully at me with a pathetic bouquet of wilting daisies.

"Hi, Ellie," he said, smiling tightly.

---

I would never have been able to admit it two years ago, but I had a crush on Ellie Fisher for a good part of high school.

She was just so damn dorky – which was a feat to be dorkier than I was. And, of course, since she was a girl, she had it way worse than I did.

But I had always been into her. She was cute in a nerdy way, sweet and bashful when she was put on the spot. Her bright eyes used to get so wide and surprised when I talked to her, and I now understood why Elle felt so familiar to me when I caught her off guard. Sure, she was chubby and hadn't dressed well, but I was still into her. That was one of the main reasons I didn't recognize Elle at first – she used to wear frumpy sweaters and skirts that hid her body. Now she wasn't afraid to show it off.

Because I was still an asshole when I first knew her, though, I never did anything about it. Well, only once. But I never followed-up with her or tried to see her again – I was too worried about what everyone would think. Looking back, no one would have given a shit about the freak dating the geek.

She looked like her old self, in a large knit sweater that she was swimming in. She looked at her feet and my heart broke from how sad she looked.

"It's Elle," she corrected. I cleared my throat. I held my hand out.

"These are for you," I said. She gave me a withering look.

"I'm allergic," she replied. I felt my face flush.

"Oh, I didn't realize," I said quietly. She groaned and took them from my hands.

"You're the asshole, but I feel bad," she snapped, storming into her apartment. I watched her and she turned on her heel, glaring. "Well? Come in."

I felt my heart leap and I stepped inside, gingerly closing the door behind me. I glanced around her apartment, grinning at how cozy and eclectic it was. There were Christmas lights hanging all around her place that lit the rooms in lieu of regular lamps. She angrily slammed a vase down with my lame daisies in it, right on her kitchen table. She leaned against it, crossing her arms and glaring at me. She gestured at me, letting me know to explain myself.

"Oh, uh," I started, stumbling over my thoughts. "I, uh, I want to say I'm really sorry. I can't believe I didn't remember you—"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. I flushed. She was right to doubt me.

"I know it's not that believable. My apology, I mean," I said. She watched me, her gaze softening. She looked so pretty, even when she was just watching me. She looked down at her feet.

"A lot of people don't recognize me at first anymore," she explained quietly. 

I should have recognized you, Elle. I should have. I used to watch you all of the time. I used to wonder how I could make you laugh and look at me with your big eyes. I still do.

I didn't say any of that, though.

"I should have," I said lamely. She looked at me, her eyes pained. I hated myself. "I know this is a lot to ask, but is there any way we could start fresh? I don't deserve it."

She watched me and sighed.

"Maybe."

I felt like I had won the lottery. I grinned at her.

"I'll take anything," I replied. Her mouth twitched into a small smile. I felt like my chest was swelling, and I wanted to do anything to make it right between us. I stuck my hand out and stepped close to her. I tried not to feel smug when I saw her flush. "Ellie Fisher, is that you? You probably don't remember me, I'm Eddie Munson."

Her face twisted into a smile, and she took my hand.

"It's Elle now," she said. I grinned and leaned close to her face.

"What if I called you 'Belle'? It's so much more suiting for a girl as pretty as you," I flirted.