A New Reflection

37. Coincidence and Destiny

"I'm not ready to start something up with you, because I've realized that I still, like, notice other girls." This is the explanation Ethan provides the following day, when I ask him point-blank, because I still haven't gotten it through my thick skull that you're not supposed to do that.

"Did I do something?" I pry with unrelenting stubbornness.

"No, of course not."

"You can just tell me," I say, unexpected exasperation bubbling just below the surface of my voice, the words rippling out barely in control. "I may be shy and sensitive, but I'm not... fragile, you know."

"I promise you, it's nothing you did. And I still like you," he assures me in a voice that sounds soothing and genuine and almost causes me to melt again for him.

He still likes me... just not enough. His original words flash back to me in this moment—the admissions he made following our kiss. I realize for the first time that Ethan never actually said he liked me. He told me that he thought I was cute and that he wanted to kiss me. I'm the one who let my feelings run away from me and made this out to be something more than it was.

* * *

I allow myself to be slightly miserable and pathetic for a couple days over the crash and burn with Ethan. Re-adjusting to college life after being home for a month isn't helping my emotional state. I miss my parents, my dog, the comfort of my own space and Mom's cooking. It's not homesickness, but rather an intense fear of slipping back into homesickness, that rushes my body with anxiety-saturated adrenaline. I walk around stiff and frightened that all the emotional resilience I thought I had developed first semester will crumble to sawdust inside of me.

Once classes gear up and I throw myself into my studies, my emotions regulate back to baseline, and I fall into a familiar rhythm. I purposely spend more time with Krista, Leyla, Cora, Shia and Kamden, distancing myself from Ethan in order to let my heart cool and unswell. For a minute, I consider the possibility of Kamden as more than a friend, recalling all the comments and subtle hints Cora used to make about us.

The very same day this notion occurs to me, Krista informs me peripherally during a conversation about a different topic that Kamden and Shia have begun dating. I chuckle inside at the timing, the sting of missed opportunity milder than my level of amusement. Kamden isn't really the kind of guy I'm looking for—he's too polished and popular. I need someone further off the beaten path.

The interactions between Ethan and me soon return to a normalish state. It's the normalcy of friendship before we ever became close, before he began showing flirty physical affection towards me. We never text or interact one-on-one anymore. He has also distanced himself from us, spending more time with other friends. Although I think Elia often hangs out with Ethan when Isla and I are engaged in activities that don't hold her interest, such as working out at the gym or jogging along Tryon Creek.

"Nati, how are you doing with the whole Ethan incident?" Isla asks me one evening, a couple weeks into the term, as she sits behind me on my bed, braiding my hair. Elia is there, too.

"I'm good now," I reply with simplicity. I think this is true.

"You seem better," Isla comments. Her fingers against my scalp, combing through my hair are comforting, nurturing. "I know that was your first experience with heartbreak, though. It can be rough the first time."

Heartbreak? I'm not sure about that. Her statement also triggers the recognition that my friends have no idea and no inkling of conceivability that I had a random, intense, unrealized fling with my 21-year-old volleyball coach last year. I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh and refocus on the conversation.