eccedentesiast (n.)
someone who hides pain behind a smile
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"SO, what'd you want to talk about? Or is this an excuse to get me alone?" I laughed, trying to ease the dark grey cloud of tension lingering above us.
"Cut the shit, Charlotte." He crossed his arms and hopped up onto a desk. I sank farther in my seat, feeling like a disobedient student about to receive a scolding. "Why'd you run away?"
"I had class?"
He looked down at me, an inferno blazing in his usually placid eyes. "The real reason."
"I was scared, okay? Scared that you'd get mad at me. Scared of hurting your feelings and disappointing you. Scared of ruining this." I motioned between us. "I didn't want you to get mad at me."
"Well, I am mad. How do you think I felt when my girlfriend dropped a massive bomb and fucking ditched me?"
I winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's kinda late for that," he scoffed bitterly.
"What do you want me to do? Travel back in time and fix it? Lemme go get my time machine... Oh, wait, I don't have one!"
His jaw clenched like he was holding back a sarcastic retort. "No shit, Sherlock... I want you to explain everything. Start with why you aren't going to Revere with me."
"I dunno... I guess I sorta, kinda, maybe don't want to," I squeaked.
"What about everything we've talked about? Everything we've planned? Why didn't you say something?"
I shrugged. "I dunno. A large part of me thought I wouldn't get in, so why start a fight over something that might not happen?"
"I don't believe that excuse for one second." He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. "Does it have anything to do with me? Did I do something to scare you off?"
"No, definitely not," I said quickly.
He gave me a sharp look.
"It's just... Revere's your dream, not mine. Yeah, it's a great school, but it's not the best fit for me. I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, but the journalism programs at Copley and SGSU are better—way better. And I'd like nothing more than staying close to you, but I also want to consider my dreams. Revere won't open the doors to them. I need to go somewhere that will... Does that make sense?"
He nodded and forced a smile, looking pained to do so. "Mhmm. I wish you coulda led with that in Environmental."
I bit my lip, the metallic taste of blood seeping onto my tongue. "So... You're not mad?"
His slight grin faded into impassivity. "No, I'm still mad."
"What? What could you possibly be mad about?"
"Seriously, Charlotte?"
"Yes, seriously. Why would I ask if I knew the answer? What else did I do to piss you off?"
He rolled his eyes so hard, I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. "What about the lies? We've talked about our future at Revere countless times, and you haven't said jackshit. You've been lying to me about your feelings this entire time! What happened to our promise about no lies and no more running? I thought we agreed to be honest with each other," he said, voice cracking at the end of his tirade.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen this way. I was gonna tell you eventually."
"Eventually? Really, Charlotte?"
"Okay, that wasn't the best word to use," I confessed. "'Soon' would have been better—"
"Not really."
"—I'm still sorry for lying. I love you and never intended to hurt you. I was trying to spare your feelings, but I should have gone about it in a better way."
"I love you, too. In the future, please remember that I can handle the truth. I'm a big boy. In more ways than one." His shit-eating grin told me that the crisis was averted. Thank God.
I still felt the need to apologize, "Once again, I'm so fucking sorry for this mess. Everything's been so perfect since we got together, and I didn't want to ru—"
He wrapped his strong arms around me, shutting me up and pulling me close. "I know, I know. And I'm sorry for yelling at you," he murmured into my hair. "I love you so much that the lies cut deeper than they should have. I shouldn't have lashed out either."
I snuggled into his embrace, inhaling his comforting scent. "I don't deserve you."
"No, I don't deserve you."
"Not true, but you're stuck with me regardless."
"So," he started, "does that mean you're accepting Copley's offer?"
I take that back: crisis not averted.
"Um, about that," I trailed off, laughing nervously into his chest. "I guess there's another thing I haven't told you."
He groaned and released me from his hold. "Something tells me I'm not going to like this."
"Yeah," I said slowly, trying to prolong the relative calm before the storm. "I'm kinda going to LA for spring break next week. And while I'm there, I'm touring SGSU and speaking to the head of their journalism program," I said in one rushed breath.
I was met with silence.
"What?!"
"Uh, you heard me right." Suddenly, the clipped green polish on my fingernails became the most fascinating thing in the world.
"Okay... When did this happen?" he asked, voice devoid of emotion, almost to the point of being completely unreadable.
"Uh, three days ago? My mom told Mark that I applied to SGSU, and he got me a private tour. He's going to LA for a business meeting anyway and offered to take me."
"A private tour sounds... serious. And with your father, of all people? What happened to wishing he'd, and I quote, 'fuck himself into a coma and die?'"
I puffed out my cheeks and said, "My mom couldn't afford to fly us out there. Mark's paying for everything, so I can suck it up. It's a small price to pay to see SGSU."
"So, you're really considering moving to LA? That's, like, two thousand miles away."
It was actually three thousand miles, but close enough.
I nodded meekly. "It's a possibility."
His facial features drooped. "Really? What about us? What about—"
I held up my hand to silence him. "Once again, it's just a possibility. I'm trying to keep my options open."
"Just answer the damn question, Charlotte. What about us?"
"Okay, well, there's always long distance. Yeah, it would more than suck to not see your face every day, but it's only four years. Three if I take classes over the summer and use my AP credits to graduate early. We'd survive, I know it."
"Only four years?" he repeated incredulously. "Four years is a fucking long time. I can't even survive four days without you. With my football schedule, we'd barely see each other. Fuck that—we'd only see each other during Christmas and the beginning of the summer. Maybe spring break on the off-chance they line up. How would long-distance even work with my busy schedule?"
A rancid taste seeped into my mouth, simultaneously making my eyes water with unshed tears. "So you wouldn't even consider long-distance?"
"Don't put words in my mouth. I didn't say that... You and I both know that we'd just tolerate it."
"What happened to Elotte forever?"
"Elotte forever and ever, but it'd be hard on our relationship if we're separated for so long... Make it easy and pick Copley. It's not as good as going to Revere, but you'd be closer to me. Closer to all of us. You won't regret it, I promise."
"You're seriously asking me to pick a college for your convenience?"
He had the audacity to nod. "I'd do it for you, so why can't you do it for me?"
And just like that, the light, spring green color I often associated with Eli morphed into a dark, festering shade of bile.
"Elliot, I'd promise you the moon, but I can't promise you this. It's too difficult of a decision."
"I can make it easier. Just pick Copley."
I glowered at him and scoffed, "Why don't you play football in LA, huh?"
"I got a full fucking ride to Revere! It's different when there's a scholarship at stake."
"No, you mean it's different when your education is the one at stake," I retorted. "Does mine mean nothing to you?"
"No, I didn't say that."
"Doesn't matter. You still implied it." I picked my backpack up, suddenly getting tired of this argument. I'd rather spend lunch in the cafeteria with my friends, not fighting with my dickhead boyfriend.
"No, Char, please don't go. I didn't mean it like that."
"Yes, you did," I snapped, standing up and stomping away from him.
"Charlotte, wait, please hear me out."
I spun around in the doorway. "Can you just hear me out for a second? Can you do that, or is the great Elliot Cameron unable to listen to anyone but himself?"
"I'm all ears."
Like a lion stalking its prey, I took a few slow paces toward him. "Okay, so the whole point of college is to get an education to build a career. I'm sure we can at least agree on that." I paused and glanced at him with elevated brows.
He nodded for me to continue.
I sank into the desk closest to the door, being conscious to keep my distance. "Good. So, why not go to the school with the better program and opportunities? You did the same thing when picking Revere over all the other schools that wanted you. And before you argue, it really is the same fucking thing. It's just that your desired career is in the NFL, and mine is in journalism." I paused, letting it sink into his thick skull.
His stupidly handsome face remained blank. I started to wonder if his head was truly hollow inside—he sure was acting like it.
I sighed and continued, "Also, can we take a minute to remember that moving to LA is not definite? Everything's merely hypothetical right now. Hy-po-the-ti-cal. I could very well step foot on SGSU's campus and hate it there."
"You might love it," he shot back. "I'll lose you to fucking Los Angeles. It's not even a good city. Boston is better. I'm better."
"Elliot, you need to grow the fuck up! Not. Everything. Revolves. Around. You." I punctuated each word with a smack to the tabletop. "If the roles were reversed, and you were the one considering LA for football, I'd be over the moon for you. It would suck to have you so far away, but I'd still find it in myself to be happy for you. Why can't you be happy for me?"
I was prepared to make a dramatic exit, but what he said next made me freeze in my tracks. His words effectively ripped my heart out, only to put it back and do it all over again a few seconds later.
"You want me to be happy about my girlfriend moving across the country? Sometimes I wish you never moved here," he muttered. "It would have made my life a hell of a lot easier."
"Excuse me?" He did not just say that.
He walked over to where I was sitting and looked me dead in the eyes. "I wish you never moved to Haven Beach."
I schooled my face, masking the devastation scorching my insides.
I took a tremulous breath to collect myself before saying, "You know what, Elliot? Because of Haven Beach, I met you. I was miserable in Chicago. Friendless, loveless, and hopeless. I found that here—with you. And I wouldn't change it for the world, even though you're being a dick right now. I could never in a million years regret moving here. I can't believe I was so naive to believe that you felt the same way. "
He visibly recoiled, as if my words were an unexpected strike to the face. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Don't give me that bullshit. You knew exactly what you were saying."
"I'm so sorry, Char. I shouldn't have said that. I just don't want you to leave me. I love you."
"Go fuck yourself, Elliot." Pushing his chest away, I stood up and ran like a bat out of hell down the hall and to the nearest exit.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement outside, I broke into a sprint and got into my car. I sped home, not wanting to face Elliot in Photography.
One more ignorant comment and I would probably slap the life out of him. Death by a thousand slaps sounded sufficient.
I almost went to our special spot, but I quickly realized that Elliot would be there. Going to my house was the next best thing. While it was an obvious place to hide, I knew he wouldn't show up. He was surely acting dense, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could just show up and be welcomed with open arms.
"Oh, Charlotte. What happened?" my mom asked as I stumbled in the door. She did a quick sweep down my body, checking for injuries. "What hurts?"
"My heart," I sobbed, dramatically flopping onto the closest couch.
The couch dipped beside me as a hand crushed my tangled hair to the side. "What happened?"
I explained the whole situation in fragmented, tear-filled sentences.
"I'm sorry, Char. Is there anything I can do to make it better?"
"I don't know," I wailed. "I- I lost his trust. He's just... so mad at me. I ne- never wanted to hurt him. And, he- he said... he w-wishes I never m-moved here."
"There's no way he meant that. He shouldn't have said that, but don't get caught up in things he said in the heat of the moment... There's still time to apologize and fix everything. How 'bout you call him when you've calmed down? Just let him know that you got home safe and maybe set up a time to talk things out?"
"I don't wanna talk to him," I sniffled. "We're gonna fight again, and we'll break up. He doesn't trust me anymore, and I'm scared of what'll happen... I just love him so much, and d-don't want to let him go."
"Honey, falling in love is like clinging onto someone's hand over the edge of a cliff. It's terrifying, but you just have to trust that they won't let go. Eli loves you; he won't let you go... If the roles were reversed, would you let him fly off the cliff?"
Hearing the word 'cliff' reminded me of the waterfall and cliff at our spot. The spot where I realized my love for Eli. The spot where Eli and I made it official. The spot where—
Wait, was it even our spot anymore? Was there an 'us?' Did I just royally fuck everything up?
Another strangled sob escaped my mouth.
"Take a deep breath, Char. Everything is going to be okay..." she trailed off, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "Remember, without the rain, we'd never feel thankful for the warmth of the sun... The storm will pass and everything will be brighter."
"The sun is gone, and it took the moon with it."
"That's not true. That boy loves you more than life itself. If you think he'll let a silly fight ruin what you two have, then you are sorely mistaken."
"I hope it doesn't," I sniffled.
"It won't, and I know it," she reaffirmed as the melodious sound of my ringtone erupted in my pocket. Not even looking at who was calling, I handed it straight to my mom. "What do you want me to do with it?"
I shrugged and laid my head down. I watched through dropped eyelids as she stood up and accepted the call.
"Eli! Hi," she said with false delight, pacing frantically around the living room. "I'm sorry, but Charlotte can't come to the phone right now... Um, 'cause—" she looked to me, eyes widening and begging for me to save her.
Taking a shaky breath, I stood up from the couch and grabbed my phone from her. After all, the sooner we exchanged apologies, the better they would be received. "Hey, it's me."
"Hey, Char. I just wanted to apologize for yelling at you. I just- fuck," he sighed. "I stupidly wanted to hurt you. I got caught up in the moment and shoulda thought before I spoke. I'm sorry for being such a dick."
"It's okay. I'm sorry for yelling, too... Thanks for calling, by the way. I, uh, was just actually about to call you and apologize... Can we just pretend our fight didn't happen? It was stupid, anyway."
"No. I'm sorry for what I said, but I'm still pissed at you. I can't let this go so easily."
"Um, what?"
"Just 'cause I apologized doesn't mean my feelings magically went away," he scoffed. "I'm still fucking angry, and I have the right to be. My girlfriend is thinking of moving 3,027 miles away. And you didn't even tell me until now! There are less than two weeks until decision day. You've probably thought about this for months and didn't mention it until it was convenient for you. So, yeah, I am extremely pissed off at you."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I pinky promise that I am beyond ticked off."
He pinky promised—
"Elliot, I am sick and tired of this... Can we- can we just stop?" I sighed. "Call me when you finally grow up. Frankly, I don't care how long it takes. I'll talk to you later."
I hung up before he could get another barb in.
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A/N: ha, you thought they'd apologize 🤠 As always, thanks for reading chapter 43! Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow me! 💚
Just a gentle reminder: even though we're so close to the end of the book, there's still a happy ending! No need to leave rn haha
QOTC: Do you speak any languages other than English?
My Answer: No. I have taken 5 years of Spanish classes in school, but I'm still not even close to fluent.