COURTNEY'S POV:
I sighed in frustration, giving up on my homework. It was nine o'clock, Tuesday night, and the only thing I could think of was earlier today. That stupid kiss! Why did it have to keep replaying in my head? This was seriously annoying. And I mean seriously. This is so unlike me, to be thinking about something like a kiss. I was always the girl that guys would ask out because they sincerely liked me and admired me, but I would have only friendly feelings for them. I ended up breaking some of their hearts when they realized I didn't feel that way.
I had always felt awful, so that's why I had pretty much stopped dating before I had come to this school.
Holy, what am I thinking? The fact that I came to this school won't change that either, I told myself firmly, knowing anyways that I was lying to myself about not wanting to date anymore. Because I think there might be one guy in this school who I wouldn't mind kissing again.
"Gahh!" I roared, tangling my fingers in my hair and propping my head up on my elbows. I stared down at my math homework and the little sad part of me inexplicably thought about Nate.
He hadn't looked all that pleased to see me so soon after school today. Grace had given me a ride after I had kissed Nate and, consequently, kneed Jake. When we had walked into her house, Ellen had been coming out looking as cool as ever. Though I did think there was more venom to her glare than usual.
I sighed as I remembered Nate's expression. He had looked shocked and kind of pained to see me, clearly only expecting his sister. I was furious with myself for being disappointed. What had I expected? Nothing would change. Why would it?
He was an Ivy Leaguer; messing with them was what I lived for. He was The Hot Guy; I was That Chick Who Sassed The Queen Bee. Even now, my reputation was fading and people were becoming less and less friendly to me and acting more like they normally would have treated someone who had crossed Ellen. It was time to refresh their memories. You don't just forget about Courtney. And if there's danger of being forgotten, I'd have to remind them.
Feeling much more cheered by that thought, I stretched and spent a few idle minutes twirling around in my rolly chair, only it's more fun when someone pushes you. You go faster that way. But I was still quite dizzy five minutes later, and I woozily went in search of a distraction. I found him in the cozy family room beside the gas fireplace, reading a newspaper.
"Hello, um... Courtney," my uncle greeted me warmly. I sensed that he had wanted to say something like 'sweetie' or 'honey' or 'dear' but had realized he was talking to the wrong person for something like that. So he settled for what did match me. My name.
"Hey," I said moodily, perching on the armrest of a couch and twirling a lock of my hair between my fingers.
"Can I have your point of view?" I asked suddenly.
My uncle lowered his newspaper. "Sure, honey, what about?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter; I just feel like disagreeing with something."
He gave me a look and disappeared behind his newspaper again. I regretted it.
"Tell me something interesting," I pleaded, throwing myself across the entire length of a sofa, legs dangling, and turning my head to look at my uncle. He lowered his paper again with an expression of martyrdom on his face.
"Why, interest low in your life at the moment?" he asked.
I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled. "I'm not sure I have anything to tell you that would interest you," he teased. "All I do is sit around home all day, remember?"
"Rebecca said you had a hard life to get here," I said, "and I have other questions, too. I mean, how come you never got married?" I asked curiously.
He sighed. "Isn't that considered to be a personal question?"
I gave him a look. "I'm the person that lives in your house and haunts your worst nightmares. I don't think you can get more personal than that."
He studied me for a moment, amusement twinkling in his kind eyes.
"Aw, what the heck. Ralph always says I should talk more anyways," he acquiesced, meaning my father. I knew my dad always used to say that my uncle must get lonely, living all alone in his huge mansion of a house, even though my uncle always used to vehemently deny it during his phone calls to Canada.
"What do you want to know first?" he asked.
"Hmm... why don't we start with the not getting married part?" I said eagerly. My uncle looked like I had picked the one he didn't want to start with, but he began talking, anyway.
"I never married because I only ever loved one girl, she wouldn't have me. I never wanted to marry after that."
I looked at him with compassion, getting up to pat his hand which was resting on the armrest of his chair. I plopped down at his feet and leaned against the chair.
"I'm so sorry," I said, meaning it. My uncle was probably the nicest man alive. He deserved better.
"She was dumb if she didn't appreciate you, and you don't want to live with a dumb person till death do you part," I said, at a gallant attempt to cheer him up. "Trust me, I would know."
He chuckled. "Well I'm flattered that you appreciate me, but she wasn't dumb."
"Oh?" I asked. This was probably going to be dramatic, like her parents wouldn't allow her to marry him, she was too scared to elope, bluh bluh bluh.
"Yes, see, part of it was my fault."
Oh. Well that works, too.
"What happened?" I asked impatiently. "Just tell me already! Enough with the suspense!"
He laughed at my whiny, demanding tone again. "Well, we grew up together, so we were best friends. We went through elementary together, then we attended Thornwell Private Academy too."
I gasped. "How come you never mentioned that?" I nearly screamed. "Did it slip your mind or something?"
"Must have," he said cheerfully. "Anyways, she was a lot like you."
I looked at him doubtfully. "No... we have one major difference. I know when something's good when I see it." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced. Jake was good. He was nice and funny and smart, but he talked back to me, too, which I always liked. But why was Nate's kiss on my mind, then? Dammit, this is complicated! I'd rather listen to someone else's complications, so I turned back to my uncle.
"Well, don't judge her just yet," he suggested. "She joined The Ivy League-" he began again, but I interrupted.
"It was around back then?" I gasped, and he groaned.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is talking to you when you interrupt every few seconds?"
He laughed at my unconvincing look of regret. "Yes, it was around back then. I'm not that old, you know. Didn't you listen to the President's speech about the founding of the Ivy League at your initiation ceremony?"
"No," I said vaguely, "my mind must've been on other things to come."
He shook his head. "She was initiated into the Ivy League from her first day there. She was beautiful and sassy and had a strong personality. But she soon got bored of it, and quit. She pretty much made their lives he-" he caught himself.
"It's okay, I'm a big girl now. I know all about the big bad place down there," I told him.
"She got on the bad side of the president, too, just like you. In fact, she pretty much divided up the whole school. She was like the resistance leader or something, like a hero to the people who hated the Ivy League. Half the school worshipped the ground she walked on, and the other half hated her with their whole fiber beings. Not like she cared. I got an invitation, too," he admitted, rather shame-facedly, "and I accepted just because she did. But I quit when she quit, but I was the only one to do that. The rest of the Ivy League stayed. So," he sighed, "I helped her with all her schemes. I was her best friend, someone she could always count on. I had realized a long time ago that I was in love with her, and I hoped with all my heart that someday I'd win her over, too. But," he said softly, and I felt we were getting to the sad part.
"But then she fell in love...with one of the Ivy Leaguers."
I stared at him, eyes wide. "Who did she choose?" I asked breathlessly, knowing the answer but still wishing it wasn't true.
"She chose him," my uncle said simply. "She felt bad about leaving me, obviously, because she was always nice and fair, whatever else she might have done. But in the end her feelings for him won and she left with him when we graduated. Last I heard, one of her friends told me she was married to him."
He fell silent, staring into the gas flames, an unsatisfied expression on his face.
"What was her name?" I asked softly, sadly.
"Leslie. Leslie Mitchell."
He continued to stare into the flames and I wiped away one tiny little tear. No matter how tough and mean I pretend to be sometimes, I do have a heart. And this was extra sad, because I knew what an amazing person my uncle was. And I had always known he wasn't happy, no matter how successful he'd been. He would make a great father, and I could easily see him loving his wife with his whole heart. I was pissed at Leslie.
"I never wanted to marry after that," he told me. "Our family wasn't rich back then. Ralph had gotten Bonnie, the girl of his dreams, and they had graduated two years before me and Leslie did. They were living in Canada when I was done with school, so I just threw myself into developing my own company. It's been a huge success, obviously," he waved his hand at the huge mansion, "but there's little consolation in that when you're alone."
I patted his arm again, because there's nothing you can say sometimes. And sometimes listening and just being there means more than empty words that can't change anything anyway.
"It wasn't for a lack of possibilities, either," he told me. "Women are drawn to riches like bees to a flower. I just didn't like any of them. I almost asked one to marry me, but she was hurting, just like I was, and we both realized we'd never be right for one another. So here I am," he said, a bit sarcastically and with a touch of bitterness.
I got up and hugged him, and he patted my back. "There now, I'm not miserable. And you've brightened up my existence considerably," he added, grinning. I smiled back.
"Are you mad at her?" I asked him. He looked at me.
"No. I love her, but she loves someone else. Though I don't know if he loved her," he added, scowling. "He was a jerk and a player. I never could stand the guy. Leslie and I had a huge fight before graduation, and we were so mad at each other that we haven't spoken since then. I told her what a jerk he was. She knew that I told her the truth, but she was still mad that I was interfering. That was the only time I made her cry, but I still suspect it was because she was so mad, rather than I had hurt her feelings."
"If you could go back and redo some things, would you?" I asked carefully.
My uncle sighed and suddenly he looked tired. But still young, I noted. "Courtney, if I could go back, there are a lot of things I would change. But I can't, so what's the point of wondering? 'What ifs' only make people more miserable."
I hugged him one more time, then slipped out of the room. I glanced back and saw him staring moodily into the fire, newspaper abandoned. He looked tired.
I climbed the stairs slowly. I can't help but see how similar his story is to mine. The only difference is that mine doesn't have an ending. Yet.
If, IF I choose Nate and he miraculously feels the same way about me, would there one day be a girl who would sit with Jake and hate me for leaving him? For not choosing him?
I gave myself a mental shake as I entered my room. Okay, things were getting out of hand. First of all, I wasn't even sure that either of the boys liked me. I ignored the nagging annoying little voice in my head that assured me there was a good chance both of them did. Second, I wasn't in love with Nate; I just couldn't stop thinking about one little kiss. I'd forget about it eventually, I told myself. Plus, Jake was much more stubborn than my uncle. Maybe my uncle has changed, and he was different younger, but Jake is sulking right now. I don't know anything for sure.
Shaking off the effect of my uncle's story, I powered on my laptop. Jeez, Courtney, I said to myself. You hear one sad story and immediately think it's the same as yours? Get over it. Be more like your usual self. You don't care about Ivy Leaguers and you certainly don't think about guys obsessively.
Feeling more like my usual self, I opened up Google. Then I typed in two words:
L-E-S-L-I-E M-I-T-C-H-E-L-L
I hit the search button. Bingo. Just what I was looking for.
I bookmarked the page, then printed it just in case. There's a time to brood over loves lost, but once you grow up, you have to start fighting. Enough with the dramatic 'it's too late now'. Guess what? It's not.
My uncle just needs a teeny tiny push in the right direction...
I picked up the freshly-printed page and smiled as I stared at the beautiful face of the woman. Maybe my own life is a little complicated right now, but it will sure make me feel better helping someone else out.
I grinned. With so many things to plan, who knows? Maybe I'll end up making my own decision in the process. And maybe mine will be the right one.
**Hey guys so sorry for the longest wait in ella-history! I just had a major freak-out because i thought my dad blocked this site... But im here, long story short, so hope you liked this! This part is more about the uncle, but there will be an interesting development. Have an awesome day, and btw i love all your comments! Thanks for all the votes and support! :)**