December 7
*.*.*.*.*.*
"Call me when you get home," Riley says.
I nod without really hearing her, though, and I hear her footsteps receding into the distance. It isn't until Shane is sure I'm not going to make the first move that he walks over to me, hands buried in the pockets of his long coat and hair dancing in the subtle wind.
It's strange how the sight of him fills me with so many conflicting emotions. It feels nice to see him, especially since he came here particularly because he expected to find me -- since he didn't take the test -- but it also makes me wonder why he couldn't have just called. Maybe it's his way of showing me how much he really cares, coming in person to make sure I hear what he has to say.
Or maybe I'm overthinking as usual.
The redness in his eyes and the messy hair, the bags under his eyes and stiffness in his shoulders ... it makes me question everything I know about perfection.
Shane Gray is perfect, we all say. We all think. We all know.
Shane Gray is human and flawed just like the rest of us.
"Hey," he greets, sounding breathless.
"Hey," I answer.
We drift into silence and my mind begins to whirr, reminding me of everything Shane had said the last time we had been face-to-face. The memory stings but I shake my head to clear it of the thoughts.
There's no use holding onto the past and who knows this better than I do? I've been clinging to the memory of Carter so long I can barely go on without remembering him with every breath and every tick of the clock. It's time to let go. It's time to move on, not only from Carter but also everything else that has hurt me. Including the bitter truth Shane slapped in my face the last time we met.
"Taylor, I'm sorry about everything I said," he says.
Shane's face is stricken, his brow furrowed and lips turned downward. He takes a step forward but catches himself as if he can tell which way my thoughts have traveled.
"It's okay," I say quickly. "You didn't say anything wrong."
"All of it was wrong, every word."
"You were only stating facts."
"I was being an asshole."
"Doesn't matter. It helped me in the long run."
"It matters because I hurt you."
We go quiet again and the wind continues to whistle. The sun plays hide and seek behind the clouds, leaving us in light-hearted darkness that predicts a storm brewing out of sight.
I sigh, closing my eyes and opening them again to smile at Shane. "Okay, yes, you did," I say. "But I'm okay. It hurt but it helped. Like my insulin shots?" I chuckle. "Weird analogy, I know. But ... I got into therapy with my parents and I'm positive it's going to help us. That's all that matters. You can relax and sleep in peace. I'm not mad at you."
"Yes, you are," Shane says in a small voice. "You wouldn't be so distant now if you weren't. You hate me, my parents hate me, everyone hates me."
"Nobody hates you, Shane," I correct him. "Except maybe yourself."
My words are bitter but they're true, just as his had been. We're so used to living and breathing lies that we close our eyes to the truth that is staring us in the face. We play blind and act like we can't see it. We can, we just choose not to.
Shane sighs through his nose and bows his head, kicking at a random rock.
"I talked to my mom and dad," he says.
I stare at him, waiting for him to go on.
"I told them I didn't want to play football anymore," he tells me. "That I stink at negotiating with people so I'll be a terrible international relations officer. I also told them I'm tired of pretending to be perfect all the time and deserve to live the way I want."
Did he really say all this?
"What did they say?" I ask, almost scared for him.
How, after so much time of complying with all their unwritten demands and fighting with himself to meet the standards they have set for me, did Shane get brave enough to say what he feels to his parents? They couldn't have taken it well. My parents might have been open to my ramblings and suggestions but I'm one of the lucky ones whose parents bother to listen. Parents who think they know best rarely do.
"They told me I'm stupid and need to grow up." Shane lets out a humorless laugh and looks at me again. "But, damn, it felt good to say all that. I don't know how long I've been holding it all inside but it felt so good to say that."
I don't answer, returning his sad smile with a small one of my own. I'm not surprised that his parents weren't open to discuss his life decisions but at least he felt good.
Even though it may come back to bite him in the future.
"I got into Washington University," Shane says.
"What? That's great!"
"Yeah, I know you told me not to apply but I did anyway." Shane gives me a sheepish smile.
"That was a joke, Shane," I point out, discovering yet again how much Shane clearly overanalyzes things.
Apparently, many people do. They just don't show it.
"I got my acceptance letter into psychology yesterday."
"What about Stanford?" I ask him.
Shane shrugs with one shoulder. "I don't care, really," he says. "I mean, Stanford is great and all but I feel like a cheater. Half my grades and almost all my wins in football are because of Adderall. It doesn't sit well with me that I'll be there because of some pills and not my skill. Besides, I just ... I don't know if I can handle the pressure."
"You'll be fine, you know," I remind him, being honest. "You're smart and hard-working. You just need space to actually be yourself."
Shane shakes his head, pursing his lips. "I'm not as strong as you, Tay," he says, smiling sadly.
"Don't be corny, Shane." I roll my eyes.
He chuckles. "Seriously, though ... I'm sorry. For everything."
His smile is gone and his eyes are sad. I know he means what he's saying but he doesn't need to be sorry at all. He shouldn't be sorry for losing a game or being himself, for speaking his mind or showing his hurt. He shouldn't have to apologize because he let his anger spill after holding it in so long. Nobody should be sorry for being in pain. If anything, he should be proud of himself for still trying despite everything.
"You're stronger than you think you are," I tell him.
"I'll believe it when I see it." Shane smiles, not his genuine one but a smile nonetheless.
I open my mouth to answer him but my phone begins to vibrate. I reach into my pocket and see mom's name flashing on the screen.
"You can't see anything if you're blind," I tell Shane, ignoring the call. "You see things in black and white. Achromatic people don't see how beautiful some things are. Just as your parents can't see what an incredible son you are, you can't see what an amazing person you are."
Shane laughs, his face glowing suddenly. "Oh, so, are you the only one who sees gray?" he jokes.
"Yup." I glance down at the phone when mom continues to call. "Hold on."
Sliding my thumb across the screen, I put the phone to my ear to hear my mom's screeching.
"Taylor!"
"What's wrong?" I panic, glancing at Shane.
"Is everything okay?" Shane asks, beside me in a moment. His smile has vanished.
"I just checked the mail and guess what I found?" mom yells into the speaker. "You got into Washington, honey! Oh my God, I can't believe you're going to Washington. Taylor, I'm so proud of you! Wait till I tell your dad. Oh my God, Carter would be so happy right now. He'd be jumping and laughing and yelling and ..."
I'm laughing along, tears stinging my eyes not only at the thought of getting into my college of choice but also that my mom is now comfortable enough to talk about Carter instead of shying away from his mention.
"Taylor?" Shane says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and look up at Shane who is watching me with a furrowed brow and expectant eyes. Mom is still talking but I barely hear her rambling. Her laughter and excitement are contagious and I find myself beaming despite the tears.
"Guess what?" I gasp.
"What?" Shane stares.
I'm laughing and I'm crying and soon Shane is smiling too, a genuine smile this time. His dimples grace me with their presence as he stares at me like I'm a small child who has won a lottery. Maybe I have.
"I'm going to Washington too," I tell Shane.
He beams, laughing as his arms curl around my waist. Too suddenly, he lifts me into the air and spins me around, causing me to squeal and forget that my mom is still on the phone.
"Taylor?" she asks.
"I'll call you back, Mom," I tell her before hanging up.
I look into Shane's familiar face and his wide smile. Even as I laugh along, though, my mind wanders back to my brother. If we had been living in an ideal world, he would still be beside me and also getting into his dream college. He would be happy and we would be celebrating his success.
"What's wrong?" Shane asks, probably noticing the change in me.
I continue to smile and shake my head. I've gotten used to the thought of Carter but it no longer holds me back. He's still in my head and beside me, but he's not keeping me caged. He'll always be with me but he won't define me.
And maybe that's what it's like to move on. The pain doesn't go away. It stays. It just isn't alive and awake as it used to be.
"So, Taylor Ming, what do you say?" Shane asks, cupping my face with his hand and peeking into my eyes with his own dull ones.
"About what?" I ask, my heart beating fast at our close proximity.
"Maybe our first date will be as college sweethearts and not highschool ones," Shane points out, a sheepish smile playing along his lips.
"I wouldn't mind that," I admit, blushing a little.
"You sure?" He raises his eyebrows.
I nod. "I'm looking forward to it."
"To what?"
I take a step back and cock an eyebrow, already backing away as Shane steps closer and closer.
"To college," I tell him, trying not to give in to the desire to kiss him. "To a new life. Freedom. Wider horizons and more opportunities. But you know what I'm most excited for?"
"What?" Shane beams.
"You," I admit, smiling. "I look forward to seeing you grow and be yourself. I look forward to being with you."
Shane keeps smiling and I can't help it either.
"I look forward to seeing gray."
*.*.*.*.*.*.*
A/N: Ah, here's the end. Thank you so much for reading. I know this story didn't have much romance like my others but that's why I have some big news. Seeing Gray will be getting a sequel! Yay! Lots of Shane and Taylor moments because they deserve all the happiness. That being said ...
Question 1: Should I continue the sequel after this and make it one book for both parts or should I write that as a separate story?
Question 2: Any loose ends that you think should have been tied up before the end of the story? Unanswered questions, unexplained information?
P.s. (for the skeptics among you) George Washington University does have early admissions and the letters are usually dispatched in early December. The university is also one of the few colleges that don't require mandatory SAT or ACT scores. I do my research, readers. Don't doubt me. Thank you so much for reading! Sequel coming soon-ish!