Living Backwards (23 page)

Her confounded expression was dwarfed by Danielle’s deafening screech. She hopped up, jumping and clapping, knocking her chair over.

“And
that
is how it’s done,” he said into my ear.

“No way!” I whispered incredulously.

“Well, if I’m going to go to the prom, I’m making this the best made-for-TV movie possible,” he explained. “And in the movie, the cool guy always stuffs the ballot box.”

“You are unbelievable,” I replied, shaking my head.

“Why don’t we sneak out while the Prom Queen is otherwise engaged?” he suggested, motioning to the stage where Danielle was clutching her scepter and Josh was replacing his top hat with a crown.

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out the side door into the cool night air. I didn’t know where we were headed until he began walking a route that had become very familiar. When we reached the back of the gym, it was so dark that I couldn’t see the milk crates or the discarded cigarette butts littering the ground. It didn’t even look like the same place, but maybe it was because we were so different now.

“You certainly know how to woo a girl, Luke. Taking your date behind the gymnasium on prom night.”

“Is that an invitation, Cross?” he asked smirking again.

“Settle down, Romeo, I’d like to have a respectable evening.”

“I think I’ve behaved rather well considering what I’d rather be doing,” he added as he backed me up against the brick wall. “Now this seems strangely familiar, like I’ve done this before.

“So tell me,” he asked, trapping me inside his arms, “How do you feel about going to graduation on the back of a bike?”

“I think I feel really good about that,” I replied softly.

He leaned forward, threading both hands into the hair at my neck and kissed me, strongly, soundly. I ran my hands slowly up his arms, across his shoulders and finally into his delicious groan-inducing hair. He groaned into my mouth as I twisted the unruly waves around my fingers.

“You feel it too, right?” he whispered breathlessly against my lips. “It’s not just me.”

I couldn’t say for sure what he was talking about because I felt so much when I was with him. I felt teenage nerves when I was about to see him and very adult passion when he touched me. I felt a connection I’d never felt with anyone…ever. But at that moment, I just feared his move to Seattle on Sunday.

“I don’t want to lose this,” I replied honestly.

I heard the muffled intro to
I Still Believe
begin to play inside the gym.

“We should probably go inside,” I said, making no attempt to move.

“We should,” he agreed, not moving either. “But I don’t want to.”

“But we should,” I reiterated unconvincingly. “It’s the prom song. We should dance to it, right?”

“We can dance here,” he replied, grabbing me by the hands, placing them around his shoulders and wrapping his arms around my waist. I sighed, reveling in the feeling of his body pressed against mine. I craned my neck up towards his face and the intensity in his eyes nearly made my knees buckle. Our lips were pressed together once again, moving against and along each other. With a tilt of his head, he deepened the kiss, soft, slow and sensual. I felt myself getting lost in him—in what we had become.

“You ruined all my plans, you know?” he said, laughing wistfully. I didn’t really know what he meant, and I hoped he was planning to elaborate. “If you told me three weeks ago…I mean that first day you basically told me to screw,” he paused, not really making much sense. His brow wrinkled as if he was battling with what he wanted to say.

“I know this is crazy but I don’t care that this thing between us has only been going on for a few weeks. I don’t. I know what I want,” he said softly. “And I only want you.”

I had spent the last ten years searching in vain for a man that had an ounce of the passion that Luke already possessed at eighteen. I knew that being with him was risky, but there really wasn’t any turning back now. How could I ever return to my old life when I knew I could feel this way?

“I never knew it could be like this,” I replied, aware that he couldn’t possibly have any idea what I actually meant. I wished that I could explain that I had given up on the idea of finding love. I never thought it was in the cards for me. Before I could think straight, he kissed me again, frantic and passionate, solidifying for me exactly how intense our connection was.

“I wish we had more time,” I choked out breathlessly.

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” he began, pulling back slightly so that he could look into my eyes. “I’m…I’m not going to Seattle.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, immediately feeling the heat in my face
.

I must have heard him wrong.

“I can’t go,” he continued, shaking his head. “Not now.”

He was staying.

“But what about Jonas?”

“I’m calling Jonas,” he replied, coolly. “I’m telling him I’m going to New York. With you.”

“With me? You’re going
with
me?” I exclaimed.

“There has to be a million bars near NYU. I’m sure I won’t have any problem finding something for the time being.”

I felt sick. Seeing the wrong color balloon arch at the prom was a little scary. Nate talking about going to Notre Dame made me extremely nervous. But Luke giving up the opportunity to own Jonas’s bar was just plain lunacy. I felt dizzy as my mind played over and over the possible scenarios. In each one, I saw Luke working at someone else’s bar for minimum wage instead of owning his own. I couldn’t let him do that.

“I see that look on your face and I understand why you’re freaking out, but Jillian, there are people who spend their whole lives looking for what we have. I’m not throwing that away. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“What if you enrolled in NYU with me?” I offered, trying desperately to fix this.

“Listen, don’t worry about it, really. It’s going to be fine. I’m going to start making some calls tomorrow to find a job. I don’t want you worrying. We’re going to be great,” he said, rubbing the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone.

At that moment, I knew what I needed to do. Luke would already have been packed for Seattle if I hadn’t come into his life. He’d go on to buy Jonas’s bar and live the kind of life that makes your smile reach your eyes. The kindest, smartest thing I could do now would be to leave before I screwed up his future even more than I already had, no matter how wonderful being with him might make my own. If I left, he’d go to Seattle, he’d buy the bar, he’d smile that smile. I loved him too much to steal that from him.

While I’d like to think he’d still be happy in the future if we stayed together, we’d be gambling with a future he wasn’t even aware existed. At least I
knew
he was happy in the future without me. I wanted so much to stay. There was just no way I could be sure that things would end well for Luke if I did. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about alternatives. Maybe if I did, I could think of a better plan, one that wouldn’t break my heart into a million pieces.

“Let’s talk about this later,” I began, my voice slightly quivering. “We should get back inside.”

He knew I was holding back, but he didn’t push me. I knew he wouldn’t give up, either. He was leaving me no choice.

When we reentered the gym, I excused myself and headed straight for the punch bowl. Grabbing the ladle, I poured a generous amount into my cup and downed the fruity red liquid in one quick gulp. My throat burned and I was glad.

“Jillian!” I spun around and saw Suzanne racing towards me. “Don’t drink that! Someone spiked it.”

I refilled the cup, raised it high to toast my train wreck of a life and drained it again.

“It’s my lucky night, then,” I replied, feeling the dull, woozy feeling settle in.

“Jillian, what’s going on with you? Is it Luke?” she asked, her tone full of sympathy and concern.

“I screwed up, Suze. I. Screwed. Up. And now there are pictures without heads everywhere,” I railed. “I just love him too much.”

“God, Jillian, why don’t I get you a seat,” she offered nervously.

“I’m fine, Suze. I’m fine. You’re a good friend. You send me virtual drinks,” I muttered before stumbling back to the table on shaky legs.

“Jesus Christ, Jillian!” Megan exclaimed as I collapsed into my seat.

“What the hell did you do?” Luke exclaimed, rushing over to me.

“What I had to,” I answered, my own voice sounding funny in my head. “I don’t want to.”

“It’s almost eleven o’clock, guys. We should get her back to Danielle’s house before this gets ugly,” Josh suggested.

“Oh Joshy,” I mused, “how many times over the years have you come to my rescue?”

“Jesus. I’ll go find the driver,” Danielle announced as Luke and Nate held me up on either side.

I embraced the cool air on my skin. I felt like I was burning up inside. They settled me into the limo as the world began to spin. I searched for Luke’s face. It was distant and distorted.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out and then let the darkness in.

I could practically feel the rain battering the roof of my car. This was an angry rain.

As I drove frantically through the busy streets, the harsh lights of the city reflected off the giant puddles that the surprise storm had created on the pavement. I focused on the clock on my dashboard and nervously laid on the horn.

Looking up at the street sign, blurred by the rain, I knew this was the turn I needed to make. I jerked the wheel roughly, pulling into the darkened parking lot. I didn’t care that my umbrella was at home. I didn’t care that there wasn’t a hood on my jacket. I didn’t care that the rain would turn my hair into a wet, frizzy mess.

I stumbled out of the car, running up the steps of the building behind a clearly smarter person holding an umbrella. I dashed into the elevator and up to the twenty-seventh floor. Panting and shivering, I rang the doorbell then knocked impatiently.

When the door cracked open, I was blinded by the glare inside. It got brighter…brighter…and suddenly…

…Painful.

I slowly forced an eye open. Oh, God. The spins. It was light out and I still had the spins. I hadn’t had the spins since college after that vodka/grape juice incident when I forgot to add the grape juice.

Close your eyes. Deep breaths.

“Whoever’s messing with the curtains,” I began, “please take your torture devices elsewhere. You won’t break me.”

“Jillian, sweetie, you should at least get up to take a Tylenol and drink some water,” I heard Danielle say.

Bits and pieces of the previous night came flooding back and I was reminded why my brain was currently trying to force itself out of my skull. Luke was following me to New York. Well, he
wanted
to follow me to New York, but I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Honey, there was absinthe in that punch. You need Tylenol. Maybe a whole bottle of it,” she explained. “Luke feels awful.”

“Not as awful as I do,” I muttered, throwing a pillow over my head.

I heard the deafening sound of the bottle of Tylenol shaking near the bed. Each tiny capsule sent a jolt of pain through my skull. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose, Tylenol?

“Drink,” she commanded, bumping my arm with a bottle of water.

I opened an eye once again, assaulted by the bright lights and pastel coloring of Danielle’s bedroom. Megan was curled up in a sleeping bag on the floor, arms splayed over her head with her mouth hanging open. If I had a cellphone, I would absolutely snap a picture and assign it to her number or maybe upload it to Facebook. That was what Facebook was for, right?

“Why does Meg get to sleep?” I whined, seeing three water bottles in front of me instead of one. I chose the middle one. I was a professional.

“Because Meg didn’t willingly poison herself last night. Care to explain?” she asked.

“It was the prom. I got drunk. That’s what you do,” I deflected.

“I don’t know what Luke was thinking,” she added. “Absinthe is no joke. Did you know he had it stashed behind the gym? I’m sorry that I made you go with him. It’s all my fault.”

I pried my other eye open, focusing on Danielle clothed in her flannel Joe Boxer pjs and still wearing the cheap rhinestone tiara on her head. Her fault? I couldn’t let her think that. This was all me.

“Danielle, I’m a grown woman,” I replied.

“Sure, Jillian. We’re all grown women. Pretty soon we can vote,” she deadpanned.

“You know what I mean,” I sneered, trying to recover from my slip. I was definitely not on my A-game. “I’m just saying that I could have said no if I wanted to.”

I could have said no to a lot of things.

“And hey,” I added. “If I hadn’t gone with Luke, you wouldn’t have that nifty crown. Not that it wasn’t deserved.”

She furrowed her brow as her hand drifted to the crown on her head.

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, pulling the blankets over me. “That would be his handy work. Ballot-box subterfuge.”

“Well, that was kind of decent of him,” she muttered.

“Yeah, he’s a decent guy,” I answered sarcastically. “Listen, I need you to close the blinds so I can get up. I have some calls to make today, so I should probably get home after I become violently sick in your bathroom. Are you going to be around later? I may need to chat with you if I don’t succumb to alcohol poisoning.”

“Of course,” she replied, closing the curtains and restoring order to my synapses. “Something wrong? Other than the violently sick part.”

Only everything.

“No, no. I have to figure some things out and I’ll let you know.” I slowly swung my legs off the bed and felt the thumping in my head immediately. I really needed a steak and cheese sub from Supremes. That always cured my hangovers. I wondered if they delivered to Reynolds. It was a long way from Seattle, but I’d tip well.

I shuffled into the bathroom while the scraping sound of my feet against the carpet assaulted my ears. I just wanted to rewind the whole evening and pretend it didn’t happen. My stomach apparently agreed as I emptied its contents into the bowl.

Everything hurt. My stomach, my head, my feet. And then there was the gaping hole in my chest. Oh, Dr. Grayson, how wrong I was about you. I should have been getting a fluoride treatment instead of attending the disastrous prom.

When I was as cleaned up as I could possibly get under the circumstances, I returned to Danielle’s room to find her lounging on the floor with Megan, both still in their pajamas.

“Danielle, are you getting dressed now?” I asked, feeling annoyed.

“No, why?”

“Um, because I don’t have a ride home,” I replied, wanting to add a “duh” at the end.

“Oh, that,” she replied. “Luke and Nate crashed at Josh’s last night. When I called Josh this morning, Luke was still there. He said he’d drive you home so that I could rest up. Being Prom Queen is very tiring, Jillian.”

“Luke is coming here? Why? Why can’t you drive me home?” I exclaimed, considering the state of my appearance.

“Why can’t you drive me home,
Your Highness
,” she corrected.

“I’m not above beating you with that scepter, Danielle. Don’t tempt me,” I warned.

“So touchy,” Megan added. “Maybe Luke has something that could make our little Jillian a little less grouchy.”

Oh, we are so not going there.

“Megan!” Danielle squealed. “She barely knows him! Although, Jillian, you could do worse. I have a feeling about him.”

“Does Josh know about these feelings, Danielle?” I replied sarcastically.

“Har, har. I’m just saying be nice to him,” she suggested with a sly smile. “He made me Prom Queen. And he should be here any minute.”

Flustered, I grabbed my overnight bag and attempted to pull myself together. I was tempted to check my hair in the mirror, but I didn’t think I’d get away with it. The girls barely moved from their spots on the floor, unaware of my inner meltdown. I was about to beg Danielle to reconsider when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t ready to see him yet.

“Despite the fact that you have pawned me off on someone I ‘barely know’, I will talk to you girls later,” I managed as I slid my sunglasses on.

My stomach lurched as I took to the stairs. Just to be safe, I said a quick prayer that I wouldn’t throw up in his car before opening the door.

Oh sunlight, why do you hate me?

When the hysterical blindness passed, and I was able to actually see Luke, he didn’t seem particularly happy to see me.

“Hey,” I said, utilizing my stellar vocabulary.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. An image flashed in my mind of Luke standing by his car the first night I thought he was going to kiss me. He shoved his hands roughly into his pockets just like that and later told me it was the only way to stop himself from touching me. I could feel my cheeks flame just from the thought that he might be trying to restrain himself again. I had to stop thinking this way. It was only going to make it harder.

I followed him down the walkway and climbed into his car, breathing in the lemony scent. I wanted to commit everything to memory. I didn’t have much time left, and memories would be all I’d have.

“So, do you want to talk about last night?” he asked, inserting the key into the ignition.

“Last night is a little hazy for me,” I replied with an awkward laugh. I honestly didn’t know if he was referring to my Amy Winehouse impersonation or his plan to follow me across the country. Neither topped my list of great conversation topics.

“That’s the problem,” he replied sounding irritated. “I told you not to drink the punch.”

“It was stupid. Something else to add to the list of stupid things I’ve done.”

“So,” he added with an uncertain voice, “it didn’t have anything to do with what we talked about last night?”

It has everything to do with what we talked about last night.

The words crashed into me like waves.

You feel it too, right? It’s not just me.

I never knew it could be like this.

Danielle told me that in high school Luke was lost, but once he settled in with Jonas he found his place. This time around,
I
found him and
I
didn’t want to lose this. Sitting here with my pounding headache, my aching feet and my upset stomach was still infinitely better than my best days before because I was with him. There was no one telling me what the right choice was, though, and I needed help.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” I replied with a weak smile.

He pulled up along the curb in front of my house, throwing the car into park. I didn’t want to turn and face him. I’d want to touch him, and I felt so damn transparent.

“So, I’ll pick you up at eleven?”

“What’s at eleven?” I asked, wondering if I had committed to something in a less than coherent moment last night.

“Graduation?” he replied with a laugh.

“Oh, right. On the back of your bike.” I couldn’t fight back the smile on my face as I imagined myself pressed against him, my graduation gown trailing open behind me.

“Well, we could always slide into the back of my car instead, but I think your father’s already onto me,” he teased.

“No, the bike is good.”

“So,” he began, shifting closer to me as he leaned across the console. I was drawn toward him even though I knew I should just get out. “Eleven o’clock?” he added, his lips grazing, but not quite reaching, mine.

“Eleven o’clock,” I replied, finding it hard to catch my breath. As soon as I finished speaking, he closed the distance between us, taking my lip between his. He slowly pulled it into his mouth, his tongue darting out to meet mine softly. He leaned into me, pushing me backwards so that my back made contact with the door. As I let the hands on his shoulder snake around the back of his neck, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time I’d feel him this way. Even though I knew it was wrong to let it continue in light of my decision, I kissed him back and reveled in the feeling of his hands all over me. I always knew we had an expiration date, but now faced with the reality, I was so conflicted. I couldn’t fathom a life without him, but I couldn’t bear a life where I ruined him. There was too much at stake. I just wasn’t prepared to gamble with his future.

I had been over it in my mind a dozen times since he told me his plans. I could see us in New York living happily in a beat-up studio apartment with lousy heating. We’d make love in front of a space heater instead of a fireplace. I’d stay up late studying, waiting for his shift at the local bar to end and fall asleep in his arms. We’d sleep late on the weekends, both exhausted from our schedules. We’d watch bad reality television and argue over whether there was any entertainment value in watching a bunch of people starve on an island and argue all the time. We’d love each other.

But it wouldn’t always be that way. I’d graduate and get a job. There’d be no way of telling if he’d ever be able to manage a bar somewhere, nevermind own one. Could he be happy bartending forever, no college degree to fall-back on? And did I even know where I’d end up? Knowing what I know now, would I settle for writing household tips instead of writing something of my own? Whichever path I chose, I’d have to work hard to get ahead, and he wouldn’t have his own career keeping him equally occupied. Bills would need to be paid and even though the teenage me would have wanted to believe that love conquered all, in the real world love could get complicated when bills piled up. He’d resent me. I’d resent me. We’d break each other, and he would have given it all up for nothing.

I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t risk it. It would hurt him. Hell, I was hurting myself. But I’d rather die a million times over than be responsible for destroying his future happiness. If someone could just
prove
to me that my being with Luke would make his life better, no power on earth could keep me from staying with him and never letting him go. But it didn’t work that way, did it? He was only eighteen now. How could I possibly be certain that what we have means the same for him at eighteen as it does for me at twenty-nine? I knew what was out there and what I was losing. He had no idea. What kind of a monster would I be if I removed that choice for him?

That left me with two options: either hurt him now—a little bit—before we were any deeper into this thing, or be selfish and take what made me happier than I’d ever been in my life, regardless of the fact that I might be stealing his chance at happiness down the line. I hated myself, but there was no other way. So as he kissed me in his lemony-scented car, I tried to burn every sound, every touch, everything into my memory. I needed that even if it was unfair and selfish. When he began trailing his mouth down my neck and I began to squirm in my seat, I pulled away, gasping. It had to stop. I needed to let go.

“I really need to get inside,” I added nervously. “My dad is probably looking for his binoculars right now.”