Chapter 29
For Real
I hated life. This wouldn’t work. In the two weeks I had been at U of A nothing was going right. It was oppressively hot here, everyone in my dorm wore sorority or fraternity T-shirts to segregate themselves into cliques, my math lab was exponentially harder than I expected and led by someone who barely spoke English, and my roommate kept going into my drawers and borrowing clothes and makeup without asking. And most of all, I missed Ryan. If I called my mom on one more crying jag this week, she’d probably try to make me see another counselor.
Knowing that I’d see Ryan again in twenty-four days was the only thing that was currently keeping me going. We’d talked about the ticket last night on the phone. We’d calculated twenty-four days all the way down into hours, minutes and seconds just to see if it sounded any better. With just over two million seconds, it didn’t. “I wish I could get on a plane tomorrow, but I’d probably flunk my Elements of Calculus test next week. Not to mention the essay on Boethius that’s due in a couple of days,” I had told him.
Ryan seemed to be doing better at school. Or at least if he wasn’t, he didn’t talk about it much. “I got a new gun last weekend,” he had mentioned. “I bet your brother would really like it.” They had bonded this summer when he visited our home in the canyon lands. The visit showed me something new I’d never known about Ryan: He was into defensive arts and a world that never really interested me. It seemed like such guy stuff and was a strange juxtaposition to the poetry-reading, short-story-writing, sensitive man who also cried when he took me to the Santa Fe Opera during a visit to his home. And of course during those periods in Albuquerque, it was always, as Ryan once joked, a “champagne-studded shagging marathon,” full of all of the decadent excesses a summer job at his dad’s engineering business and my job waitressing at a local bar and grill could afford.
But now it was back to school. And in my dorm room tonight all I was thinking about was how this wasn’t the place for me. I was adrift, going through the motions of scholarship again. The only nice thing about being here was my view. On the eighth floor in the dormitory, I could see all the lights from the valley below me, and it reminded me of the night of Spring Fling when Ryan and I rode up to the base of the Sandias. This high up we were supposed to be the quiet floor, but people were loud in our co-ed dorms and did ring-and-runs all weekend long. I hated that. If they weren’t knocking on the door and running away, some overly caffeinated freshman was pulling a freaking fire alarm in the wee hours of the morning.
I went to stand by the window now, looking horizontally across at the dark outlines of the mountains rather than the twinkling below. Somewhere out there tonight, Ryan was around, too. Maybe he was standing in the dark thinking about me.
The sound of the phone interrupted my thoughts. What if it was him? We’d made a pact not to call every day, just because we were both really trying to be brave and not make it seem like we were checking up on each other, but maybe he was lonesome tonight like me.
I ran to the phone, but hesitated. It was Saturday night. How pathetic would I look to him by staying in, anyway? I hadn’t really made any friends yet, and my roommate had gone to some fraternity meeting to learn how to be a little sister. She wanted me to do it too, but I told her I didn’t want to. Those boys were just inviting girls they wanted to make out with, and the whole idea of brothers and sisters sounded grotesquely incestuous.
I glanced at my watch. It was too late to be her family; they lived on the East Coast. I’d just spoken to my own parents recently, too. No one else had been calling during the evening hours. It had to be him.
“So, maybe I’m pathetic, but I really miss you,” I said as I picked up the phone.
The laughter on the other side rushed through my head, making me dizzy at once.
“Kara?” Ben’s voice asked. “G’day. I miss you, too.”
I stopped breathing. I had not spoken to Ben since I saw him in Albuquerque four months ago. It could just have well been four lifetimes ago to how far out it seemed now.
“Are you still there?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
“How did you get this number?” I cupped my hand over the receiver to suck in a big breath he wouldn’t hear.
“I just called your parents. I spoke to your mom. I didn’t realize it was past nine over there. I hope I didn’t disturb her too much.”
I hadn’t told my mom not to give Ben my number, but the fact that she did was confusing. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was someone else.”
“I guessed that.”
Always so self-assured, Ben was talking to me again like we were casual friends. I could hear an edge of humor still in his voice. It made me both smile and want to cry. “Oh. Well, why are you calling?”
“I told you. I missed you.”
I laughed. There was really nothing else I felt like doing. “Where are you?”
“Australia.”
“This must be an expensive call.”
“Probably.”
“You’re not coming to see me, are you?”
He laughed now. “Not yet.”
I smiled at his tone. He was playful, and even though I told him not to call or write me after his visit, I’d thought several times about the platypus he gave me. I’d been grateful for it, and it traveled with me to college. It was hard to say good-bye to the friendship we shared. I could still feel our connection over the line. “You know, I have a boyfriend now.”
“I knew it was just a matter of time,” he said without pausing. “I’m glad.”
“Are you?” My reply was just as quick. I couldn’t decide if I felt hurt.
“Sure. Tell me about school.”
“No.”
“Well then, tell me about him.”
I thought about this. I wanted to say something mean to Ben, even though I felt lighthearted now that he’d called and we’d been so immediately up front with each other. “He’s from my old high school. He’s going to college now in New Mexico.”
“Long-distance relationship, huh?” Ben’s remark made it seem like he wanted to say something mean, too.
I exhaled now into the phone. This wasn’t funny anymore. “I guess.” Ben did know me well. He knew just what to say that would hurt me most. “Maybe I’ll move back there next semester.”
“Maybe you should move forward.”
Was he suggesting I say good-bye to past relationships? That included him too, didn’t he know?
“How do you know I’m not?”
Knock. Knock.
My head snapped toward the sound. “There’s someone at my door,” I said to Ben before he could answer.
“Do you want me to call back?”
I swallowed. I couldn’t tell him yes…could I? “Well, are we finished?” I asked.
Ben laughed.
“Hold on a sec. It’s probably no one. They do that here. Knock on doors and run away.” I set the phone down and walked over to the peephole, then threw the door open at the sight.
“Ryan!” I cried, taking in the suitcase at his feet, the bag over his shoulder, and the roses in his hands. He dropped the shoulder strap as I sprang forward to hug him. Soft, fragrant, red petals brushed through the side of my hair.
“What are you d—how did you get here?”
“I didn’t want to be away any longer.” He kissed me. “I had to be with you.” His smile was as wide as it was beautiful, his eyes bright with happiness.
I beamed back at him in response, then ushered him into my room as he brought his stuff in from the hall. “I can’t believe it’s you,” I said as I kissed him again.
The sound of the phone too long off the hook bleated a crescendo that startled us both.
I stumbled toward the receiver, remembering now I’d left Ben on hold.
“Who were you on the phone with?” Ryan asked behind me.
I put the phone in its dock, thinking quickly.
“I was just about to call you,” I said, turning around. He’d gone to stand in front of the window.
“It’s nice here,” Ryan said, and I looked down with him at the lights in the valley floor below.
Bright flickers beamed happily back up at us, as if there were no reason to be lonely or confused anymore. I reached for his hand. “With you it just got better.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.” He turned toward me, drawing me closer with the hand I was holding. I looked up into his eyes, deep into their golden trim. “Because I’m moving out to Tucson to take a wait-list enrollment spot at the University of Arizona. I start Monday.”
I couldn’t speak; I was still mesmerized by his words. I’d watched his lips move through every syllable, so imminently kissable.
“That’s right,” he continued, grinning at my gaping mouth. “What do you think? Can I stay with you for a while?”
I smiled wide and out of the corner of my eye caught sight my twin bed, picturing us waking up together in that cramped little thing the next morning. “Of course.” So what if it wasn’t meant for two, we’d make it work and be happy with it anyway. I giggled. “I’m thinking that you must really love me. And I really love you, Ryan.”
“Don’t ever doubt it,” he said.
The End
