- Three months later -
Lizzie
March 2021
Spring arrived with blooming flowers in some areas and lingering snow in others.
It's still too cold to leave the house without a jacket, but hats and gloves are definitely not a must anymore, which is great. Especially now that Aaron can't drive me to school anymore.
He officially and permanently moved in with his parents about three weeks ago. They live on the other side of the city, and although he offers to pick me up every morning, I refuse to make him drive an additional half an hour just to get my ass to school.
So, instead, I've started to drive with Nate. It started one morning when my alarm didn't go off and I was going to be late. He offered and I had to swallow my pride. I can't say I'm happy about this arrangement, but it's only for another three months.
That's my deadline. That's when I have to go back to L.A. I can't bring myself to accept that, so instead, I stay in denial and pretend that my experience here is neverending. I can't think about the fact that I'm going to have to leave my friends behind.
Speaking of friends, they're all sitting in front of me, talking about what they plan on doing next year. College, no college, strip clubs... That's mostly Logan's plan.
"You're a shit dancer, they'd be stupid to hire you," Aaron tells him. "Gotta have a plan B, man. You've got zero chances of becoming a stripper."
Logan makes an offended face. "I'm an amazing dancer. You've only ever seen me drunk dancing. Ask Archie how great of a stripper I'd make." The poor guy blushes, embarrassed.
I laugh at the two of them. They're complete opposites — Logan, the most extroverted person you'll ever meet, and Archie, a guy so introverted he might as well be a turtle. And yet, their relationship has been going wonderfully.
"What about you, D?" I ask her. "Any plans?"
She shrugs. "I applied to UBC a while ago," she admits.
We all lean in. "And?"
"I got in."
"What?" "That's amazing!" "Oh, my God!" we exclaim, giving her friendly shoves and pats that make her laugh.
"Thank you, thank you. I'm really happy, too," she tells us. "You guys didn't apply anywhere yet?"
This time Archie replies, "I actually got into Toronto University for the Theatre course."
We compliment him as well, and I can't refrain from smiling at Logan's proud eyes. "I'm basically dating Leonardo Di Caprio."
"Really? You couldn't name one ginger actor?" Archie asks, arching a brow.
Logan hesitates. "Sadie Sink?"
"Nevermind," Archie waves him off. "What about you, Liz? You applied anywhere?"
Ouch. "Uh, yeah."
"And?" they insist.
"Yeah, I got into a few colleges, but nothing interesting," I answer.
"Like where?" Logan asks.
"NYU, MIT, Brown..."
They raise their brows. "What? And you got into all of them?"
"Yes."
"Jesus Christ, Einstein. Congratulations!" They congratulate me, and I offer them a kind smile. "You don't look too happy, though."
I raise a shoulder. "They're not my first choice."
"What's your first choice?" Davina asks me.
"Cambridge," I admit. "But they haven't written back to me yet."
Aaron takes my hand and squeezes it. "I'm sure they will."
I nod, hopeful. "They probably just have many people applying there."
"Why Cambridge, though?" Logan asks, tilting his head.
"It's one of the best vet schools," I explain. "Which is what I'm hoping to do. Even though my parents don't love that idea."
"They'd be stupid not to take you," Aaron tells me, pulling me in, and resting my head on his shoulder. "Don't worry. It's gonna work out."
I bob my head. "I hope so."
———
This afternoon Aaron is staying at Grace's place to grab some boxes he still hasn't moved. Old books, documents, and folders. It's mostly stuff he doesn't need, so I'm not surprised he left it here while he settled down back at home.
Now that he's been there for weeks, though, he's come to grab it from Grace's garage to and move it to his parents' basement.
I help him out, even though he insisted multiple times that I didn't do anything. I can't help but grimace and the number of things he has. "Why don't you get rid of this stuff? It's not like you're ever going to use it again, right?"
He picks up a heavy box, and I very evidently stare at his arms. He smirks. "You'll never know. Maybe one day I'll need this..." He glances inside his box. "This Thai recipe book. Better keep it."
I roll my eyes, but giggle. "I'll go back upstairs and grab the last box we left there. I can't stand the cold of this place anymore."
"All right. I'll finish up here."
I leave the freezing room and head back into his old bedroom. It's so empty I get chills. It makes me colder than the garage.
I fill up the already full box with the few folders that were left on the bookshelves. Some notebooks and old drawings are lying around, so I throw those in as well.
While I'm crouched down to gather some other stuff, I notice from the corner of my eye Milo jumping on the bed, a little too close to the full box. With a loud thud, the folders and books and papers fall, lying discarded on the floor.
I curse, scurrying to pick them up. "Goddamn it, Milo."
Quickly entering the living room from the house drive-in, Aaron shouts, "Everything okay?
"Yeah. A box fell," I yell back.
I bend down, picking up the things that have fallen. I pile the notebooks back in the box, collecting a series of old envelopes he owns. I look through them, setting aside the ones that are ads and publicity. "What?" Aaron shouts, not hearing what I said.
"I said—" I start, but my voice dies in my throat.
My whole body stills as my hands squeeze the edges of the white envelope I'm holding, crumpling up the pristine paper.
Aaron's footsteps sound in the empty house as he climbs up the stairs, finding me in his room. "Hey. What happened? I heard a thud," I hear him say from behind me, but his voice is muffled by my thoughts. "Lizzie? You okay? What's wrong?"
My eyes are filling up with tears as I turn around to face him. "What is this?" I whisper with barely any voice, lifting the envelope. His eyes scan it and he pales. As rage and sorrow mix, I repeat through gritted teeth, "What is this, Aaron?"
He stares at the envelope, the elegant and unmistakable logo standing out in the corner, near where my name and last name are. His throat bobs as he swallows, scared.
"Why do you have my Cambridge letter?" I demand, furious.
His mouth opens and closes like a fish's. "I can explain."
"Oh, you better," I insist. "Is this what I think it is? Is this the letter you told me they'd be writing me soon? Hm?"
He breathes deeply. "Yes, but it's not like that, I just... I..."
"You what, Aaron? How long have you had this? Don't lie," I blurt out, walking up to him with a dark scowl.
Knowing there's nowhere he can escape, he answers, "Two months. Since the end of January."
I feel like my airways have just been obstructed. "Two months? You kept this from me for two fucking months?" I raise my voice. Pulling my brows together, I shake my head, remembering. "What about the emails? They were supposed to send me an email along with the letter. What happened to that?"
He looks down at his feet. With a thin voice, he admits, "I deleted it. But I didn't read it, so I don't know what it said."
Heavily breathing, as if I've just been punched in the face, I shake my head. "How could you look me in the eye and tell me that they'd write back to me? What was it you said? They'd be stupid not to take me. I wouldn't know that, though, right? If not for this accident, I would've never found out."
"No, no. I was going to tell you. I wanted to. I did. But... But then I forgot about it and—"
"You're lying, Aaron! You did it because you're selfish. Because you wanted to keep me close. You did it because you're scared I'm going to leave you," I tell him, pointing a finger at him. "You were never going to tell me."
"I was! I just..." He sighs, walking past me and going through the other envelopes I didn't get to check. He grabs one and shows it to me. "I was going to tell you. But then I got this, and I panicked, and I didn't know what to do, and—"
I snatch the opened envelope from his hands and take out the letter, reading through it. With my brows pulled together, I look at him. "You sent an application there, too?"
He nods. "I thought that if I couldn't keep you here, then maybe I could follow you there." I give him back his envelope and stop waiting, ripping open my own. I take the letter out and take a deep breath. I start reading. "I looked at all their courses and sent my application in for Engineering," he keeps explaining as I read through my letter. "But I didn't get in."
I lift my eyes and stare at him for a long moment. "Well, you fucked up, Aaron. You wanted to keep me here? You should've given this to me." I hand him my letter. "Because I didn't get in, either."
He frowns, reading. His shoulders fall. "What? Lizzie, I'm sorry. I know how much this meant to you."
I tilt my head. "Do you?" I rhetorically ask. "If you did, you would've given me the letter as soon as you found it." I tightly clench my fists. "Congratulations, Aaron. You got exactly what you tried so hard to avoid. We're done."
He widens his eyes, grabbing my wrist as I started to walk away. "What? Lizzie, what do you mean we're done? That's a bit extreme."
I set my arm free with a sharp tug. "Extreme? You lied to me. You were selfish and careless. If I had been accepted, I still wouldn't be able to go there because of your egoism," I snap at him. And his eyes say enough. No matter the inside of the letter, in his mind he'd have won either way, because both scenarios would have ended up with me staying either here or in L.A., which is still closer than Cambridge. I shake my head, seeing right through him. "You are so immature."
He sighs, hopeless. "Lizzie, I know how this seems, and I know I fucked up, but we can still work this out. I made one mistake—"
"One mistake that could've changed my whole life! You took my dream— my future and did with it what was in your best interest. You didn't even bother to think about what your choice would result in," I yell, setting my tears freely stream down my face. "You were stupid and irrational and impulsive. And you don't even realize how badly you screwed up!"
"I do! Of course, I do. And I'm sorry. But don't throw all we have built away just because of a single mistake," he tells me, trying to take my hands in his.
I step back. "Oh, I am not throwing anything away. You did this. This is all on you, Aaron. I had no part in this shit."
"Sweetheart—"
"You don't get to call me that anymore. Not when you've hurt my sweet heart so deeply," I state, drying my tears with the back of my hand. "We're done."
I walk past him, briefly noticing Nate and Cameron stepping inside the house. They give me confused, worried looks, but I ignore them and lock myself inside my bedroom.
I sit with my knees pulled to my chest and my back against the wall near my door. I hear heavy steps and harsh knocking. I ignore that sound as much as I can.
"Lizzie, come out, please. Let's talk about this," Aaron's muffled voice reaches my ears, and I wish I could rip them off my head. "Lizzie. I'm sorry. I am."
"No, you're not," I mumble to myself.
After months of getting to know Aaron, I can safely state that I understand his behaviors. I can recognize when he's actually feeling guilty and what he's feeling guilty about.
He's not sorry he kept this secret from me. He's sorry I found out. He feels sorry for himself, because of how I reacted to the truth. This is the difference. He knows he fucked up and he feels guilty about it because there is nothing he can say that will make this better. Had I reacted differently— had I reacted in a positive, understanding way, he would not be apologizing for any of this.
This is his eighteen-year-old-boy self. He's immature and convinced that he's not in the wrong.
This is what hurts the most. Knowing that if he could go back in time, he wouldn't refrain from hiding the letter. He would hide it better.
As these thoughts spiral inside my brain, Aaron's intense knocking is replaced by some distant voices. I can hear Nate asking, "What happened?" and Cameron, "Is she okay?"
"We just had a misunderstanding, okay? Lizzie, can you let me in so we can talk?" Aaron replies, upset. Oh, he's upset?
"It didn't seem like she wanted to talk to you," Cameron notes.
"Oh, right. I'm sure she'd just love to talk to you, then," he tells her, annoyed. "Lizzie, can you open this goddamn door, please?"
"Can you give her a break, Aaron? She's clearly upset. Let her be," Cameron insists. Then, she speaks to me, "Liz, I know I'm probably the last person you wanna talk to, but if you need someone's shoulder to cry on, I'm here. You might hate me, but I care about you."
I sniff, drying some tears. And I stand up, unlocking the door. It's been months since I argued with Cameron. She apologized, I made her regret it, and I promised myself I would eventually forgive her. Now is the time.
Neither of them expected me to open the door. I find myself looking straight into her blue eyes, and I see the girl who welcomed me here last August. I don't even care anymore about what she and Nate did. I just want my friend back.
She walks inside my room and pulls me in, hugging me tightly. I burst into tears again as I explain what happened.
"So, what are you gonna do now?" she asks when I'm done speaking, soothing me with a hand on my shoulder.
I shrug, sniffing. "I don't know," I admit, my voice hoarse. "I can't even look at him right now. How am I gonna spend the next three months with him around?" She nods, understanding. I groan, frustrated. "God, why would he even do that?" I snap.
Cameron sighs. "He loves you. Maybe too much. Maybe he found himself with all this... All this feeling inside him and didn't know how to deal with it."
"He could've talked to me. We would've dealt with this, too, like we always do. But he just had to go and fuck everything up. Now, look where we are," I answer, enraged. "I can't do this, Cameron. I can't stay here while he tries to make me forgive him. I don't trust myself enough not to let this go as soon as I see him crying."
"You think he'd manipulate you like that?"
"You said it yourself. He loves me too much. He's blinded by that and he'd do anything to keep me here," I tell her. Shaking my head, I add, "Cam, he was going to follow me to Cambridge just so we could be together. Cambridge wasn't his dream. It was mine. But he ruined it like it belonged to him."
She takes my hands and squeezes them. "So... What's the plan?"
———
Three days later, I have everything packed and I'm patiently waiting for Grace to lock the door before driving me to the airport.
I thought about this thoroughly, and at first, I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to go back home three months before the deadline. But when I asked my friends for advice, they agreed that it was the best option.
Only Logan was skeptical about it. Mostly because he knows that when Aaron finds out I'm gone, he's going to freak out and shut everyone out. But even he had to admit that what Aaron did was fucked up.
"Maybe you can leave for a couple of weeks and then come back," he tried to propose, but I told him that that would be even worse. After that, he gave up. He knew where I was standing.
However, as I sit in the car with Grace, I can't stop overthinking my decision. I know this is the right thing to do, but that doesn't make it pleasant.
Grace must notice my quietness, and asks sweetly, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," I reply softly.
I can see her worried look even from the side. "Are you sure you don't want to say goodbye to him? I can turn around."
I shake my head firmly. "No. If I do, I'm not gonna be able to say no to him."
She nods. "All right. Let's go, then."
We get to the airport quickly, and all my friends are inside, waiting to say goodbye to me. Nate helps me with my bags, and a feeling of melancholy washes through me.
They hug me tightly singularly, and I fight back the tears in my eyes. "It had to happen anyway eventually," I tell them, trying to make this somewhat better
"Still feels unreal, though," Davina states. "We're gonna miss you so much, Lizzie."
"I'm gonna miss you guys, too. You have no idea how much you've helped me," I admit. "Keep me updated on the drama here, okay?"
Logan breathes a laugh. "You live in L.A., you have Hollywood, and we gotta keep you updated on the drama? Girl, you better tell us all the gossip about celebrities," he points out, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
"You have a point," I giggle.
I'm still laughing when Logan's body stiffens and he clears his throat. "Right. Well, Liz, don't hate me for this, okay?" he starts, standing in front of me.
I frown. "What?" He looks guilty. My face drops. "What did you do?"
"I just..." He sighs. "I couldn't let you go without him saying goodbye, Lizzie. And I thought if he came here it would be better because, you know, you're already at the airport so you wouldn't go back home now, right?" he blurts out, but I'm not even listening anymore.
Aaron is running through the crowd of people, bumping into them with a scared face. Scared that I might go before he gets a chance to see me one last time. I shake my head and glare at Logan. "You had no right to do this."
"I know, I know, but you'd both be wrecked if you didn't say goodbye now. I'm sorry, Liz," he apologizes. I ignore him.
Aaron is here, and when he finds me, pure terror is replaced by relief. He runs up to me. I step back. He notices my move but doesn't comment on it. "Lizzie," he says my name, and it sounds like a broken violin. He has dark circles around his eyes and looks worn out. He probably hasn't slept for three days.
"I gotta go. My flight's almost here," I tell my friends, ignoring Aaron's presence.
I take a whole of one step before he's standing in front of me, so close I can smell his familiar scent. I move away. "Lizzie, what are you doing? You can't just leave. You can't leave," he tells me.
I tilt my head. "Can't I?"
His lip trembles. "Please. Tell me what to do, and I'll do it. Just... Don't go," he insists.
"Let me pass."
I try to move, but he seizes my wrist. I look at him, and he knows that I can get him off of me quickly. He knows I took defense classes after Zach. I told him that when I opened up to him. And he still hurt me.
But he doesn't let go of me. My friends behind me stare him down, but he glares at them. Like they mean nothing to him. Like he'd go to any length if that meant keeping his skin against mine. Even if that meant going against his own friends.
He looks at me again, pleading. "Stay," he begs.
"No."
He opens his mouth, and closes it. Aaron takes a deep breath. And drops down on both knees, in the middle of the airport, not caring about the people surrounding us. Holding my hands, he looks up at me with watery eyes. "Please."
I breathe deeply and I almost let the tears run free.
Almost.
I set my hands free of his clutch and grab my bags, walking past his kneeling figure.
I hear him exhale a breath, and when I turn around he's standing back up, trying to get to me. Logan steps in, seizing him from behind. Aaron's face is covered in tears as he cries for me to come back, to stay, to not leave him. My whole body aches at the sight of so much pain and despair assaulting him like that—
Logan looks at me and shakes his head. Go, he mouths. He's right. This is just what I was afraid of. Being unable of watching someone I love hurt so much. But he didn't feel the way I do now when I was the one hurting because of him, did he?
I look at the others one last time. One last, silent goodbye. And turn around, walking away from this chapter of my life.
I leave my luggage and follow the signs to get to my plane. I can almost hear Aaron's broken voice in my ears. I shake my head, shutting him out, and put some music in my ears. Why, of course, a Taylor Swift song had to be the first to come on.
I get on the plane and sit near the window, looking outside. When we get in motion and the ground disappears below us, I dry a fleeting tear.
I hate planes.
———
A/N
Two things I love doing as a writer: number 1, ruining everything when it all seemed perfect; number 2, using the same line for the first and last chapter.
Call me a bitch, but at least a smart bitch.