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Authors: Juliette Caron

Pictures of You (35 page)

BOOK: Pictures of You
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“The last thing I want is to hurt you—or to lose you. You mean too much to me. I don’t deserve you, the way you’ve been there for me all these months since Abby.”

             
He shooed my words away. “Tember, please, you don’t have to say it.”

             
“But I do. I owe you the truth.”

             
“I get it. You’ve chosen to be with Adrien.” I felt like I was Hitler as I watched his face twist in agony. I knew he was in love with me. I suspected it for awhile, but after that passionate kiss and the way he was behaving now, I never realized how much. This was going to hurt both of us. A lot. I hated it. What rotten timing—meeting Chris and Adrien in the same chapter of my life. And then I had to be stupid and fall for them both.

             
But I made my choice. And the faster I ripped the band-aid off, the less it was going to hurt.

             
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

             
“Can I just ask you one thing?” he asked, still stroking the dog.

             
“Anything.”

             
“Would…would you have wanted me if I was free—before Adrien came around?” His entire face tightened in anticipation.

             
I bit my lip. Should I tell him the truth? Would that only hurt him more? Would I even be able to lie to him? Would he believe me if I did? Finally I said, “Yes. I had a thing for you from day one.” And it was one-hundred-percent the truth. This seemed to injure him further. But he also seemed pleased.

             
“My cousin offered me a job at his restaurant. Can you see me waiting tables?” he said with a hollow chuckle, not meeting my eyes. His words sliced through me like a wire cheese cutter.

             
“What? You’re quitting your job? Does this mean…?”

             
“You didn’t honestly think we’d still work together, did you?” he said so bitterly, I was stunned. I’d never seen this side of him before.

             
“I—”

             
“September, I love you too much not to
be
with you. I don’t want a little of you. I want all of you,” he said, picking animal hairs from the couch, one by one.

             
“So we can’t even be friends?”

             
He shook his head. “Not when I go to bed every night thinking of you.”

             
I felt my cheeks burn. “But Chris. You can’t mean—”

             
“I can’t see you anymore. Not if I expect myself to ever get over you.” He continued to pick at those damn animal hairs, refusing to look at me.
Look at me Chris!
I wanted to scream.
Why won’t you look at me?

             
I sat, unable to speak for a moment, stunned. I’d lost my best friend—again. What was I going to do without my Chris? I wanted to cry, but I must’ve surpassed my yearly quota because once again, my eyes remained dry.

             
“Chris, I…” What was there left to say? He was right. It wouldn’t be fair to expect him to swallow his feelings for me and pretend everything was peachy. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore than I already had. “Chris, just know that I’ll be eternally grateful for the few months we had together.” My throat tightened. “And I’ll never, ever forget you.”

             
“Please. Just go,” he said, still refusing to meet my gaze. I froze, unable to move. I knew when I’d get up to go, it would probably be the last time I’d ever seen him. I couldn’t bear the thought.

             
“Chris, please. At least give me a goodbye hug.”

             
He shrugged. “Okay. That’s a reasonable request.”

             
We stood and embraced for a long time. And the tears finally returned.

             

***

             

              A very large part of me wanted to climb into bed and stay there for a week or two or three. And the Twinkie cravings came back with a vengeance. Could this weekend have gone any worse? I lost Chris
and
discovered the boy I’d fallen for was responsible for Abby’s death. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Would my life ever feel normal again?

             
In the taxi, I forced myself to push my hurt feelings aside. There was only one thing I had to do. Find Adrien. Not an easy feat when I never learned his address or phone number. Finding Adrien in New York would be like trying to find a dust mite on an elephant.

             
“Where’re we going today, miss?” the scruffy, obese cab driver said, frowning.

             
“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” I said, feeling panic mount inside of me. What if I was too late? What if Adrien, in the heat of the moment, did something rash? Hurt himself?

             
“Give me something to work with. I’ve got to pay the bills,” the driver said, glaring at my reflection in his rearview.

             
I replayed the past two weeks in my head. Where would I find him? This could take days or weeks. Months even.

             
I spent hours looking for him, feeling my hope dwindle little by little. First I tried Cooper Park. I hit a few bookstores because Adrien was really into those. And then Tim’s Coffee popped into my head.

             
“Try Tim’s Coffee. It’s on—”

             
“I know where it is,” the cab driver snapped.

             
I couldn’t get there fast enough. The ride to Tim’s seemed to last an eternity. And of course today of all days, the traffic had to be as thick as congealed cream of mushroom soup.

             
My heart jerked as I climbed out of the taxi. There it was: Tim’s Coffee. The place it all began. What were the chances Adrien would actually be there? Slim to none. I thought about hailing another cab and heading home. But I had to do this. I had to at least try.

             
Inside the café, I scanned the room frantically. I saw the usual crowd. Three teenage girls flipping through a gossip magazine, sharing a fruit smoothie. A balding business man opening his laptop. A middle-age woman with a bad perm arguing with an older woman, probably her mother. In a panic, I scanned the room a second time. No Adrien. Of course.

             
Just as I turned to leave, I heard a quiet voice in my head.
Bagel with-everything-on-it
. Okay, admittedly, I was hungry. I’d only had an apple today and it was nearly dinnertime. And it
had
been awhile since I’d had one. Just over two weeks ago—when I first met Adrien. I could grab one for the road and keep looking. I ordered two and an herbal tea. The cashier, a vinyl thin boy around my age, took especially long ringing me up. He messed up twice. The time I rang Adrien up at Anderson Art and Frame came to mind. What a pathetic first impression I must’ve made. I wondered if he still remembered that. Just as the cashier was about to hand me my change, the middle-age woman came up to the counter and began arguing with the boy about how he got the order all wrong and overcharged her. I groaned, maybe a little too loudly. I didn’t have time for this. I needed to find Adrien as soon as possible. Now was not soon enough. As a young woman with a buzz handed me my order, I took off, no longer caring about my change.

             
Outside the sun was retiring, turning the sky a soft orange. I was emotionally and physically spent and decided to call it a day. I would start my search again early tomorrow morning. Deflated, I turned to head back for my apartment. That’s when I saw the back of a man—tall and slender with messy chestnut hair—walking briskly ahead. Was it him? Yes, I was sure of it. The green jacket and shoes were a giveaway.

             
“Adrien?” I ran after him, hoping I wouldn’t lose him in the crowd. “Adrien!”

             
His long legs gave him the advantage. Panic shot through me like a rocket as I saw him disappear into the thick crowd. I zigzagged through the cluster of people, no longer bothering to be polite. Elbowing and pushing became necessary as people stopped to watch a man in a plaid hat sitting at a TV tray doing card tricks. I saw a flash of green. “Adrien!” He turned and recognized me immediately, his face giving away surprise and confusion. “Adrien. Stop. Please,” I said, closing the gap between us, a little out of breath.

             
“September,” he said. He seemed to be in a daze. His thick sap green scarf made me smile. Of course it was green. He looked especially handsome bundled up against the cold, his cheeks flushed, his nose red. It was brisk for an early fall evening. Winter seemed to grow impatient, not wanting to wait its turn. Although we were together only yesterday it felt like months since I last gazed into those amazing baby grass green eyes. I wanted to hold him and kiss him and take in his Adrien scent. I ached to cling to him and never let go. We now had the chance to be together, but would he want me back? Would we get to spend our numbered days of mortality together, however many God or the universe would grant us?

             
“I can’t believe I found you,” I said. “I’ve been looking for you all day.” He seemed surprised by this. “Do you live near here? Am I allowed to ask you that now?” I laughed.

             
He smiled a sweet smile. “Yeah. In that building right there.” He pointed to some row houses down the street from Tim’s Coffee. I laughed again, maybe a little too loudly.

             
“You’re kidding me. All this time you were living right by Tim’s? Right by
my
place.” He stood in silence, his expression skeptical. “Adrien, we’re neighbors.”

             
“I guess we are.” His lips curled upward, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

             
“That’s funny, wouldn’t you say? Considering there’s something like eight million people in this city? We’re always crossing paths. I think the universe is trying to tell us something. Not that I need any convincing.”

             
He kicked a weed growing through a crack in the sidewalk, crossed his arms over his chest. “I have to be honest. I never thought I’d see you again.” The way he said it, almost mechanically, confused me. Wasn’t he happy to see me? I sucked in a long, shaky breath, feeling more nervous than the first day we met.

             
“I love you, Adrien. And if you feel you need to hear it: I forgive you. I’m always going to miss Abby, but it
wasn’t your fault
. I know you didn’t mean to kill her and I know you’d bring her back, that you’d trade your own life for hers if you could. It was an
accident
. I forgive you, Adrien. I know Abby would want that.”

             
His eyes flooded. He brushed a single fallen tear away with a shaky hand and finally grinned that goofy grin I love. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.” I waited for him to say something more. Would
he
still want
me
? Now that we had this burden, this secret to share? Would he feel guilty whenever I mentioned Abby’s name? Was this going to work? Did he really love me—as much as I loved him? “But I wish it were enough,” he said, his face sad now.

             
“Can’t it be enough?” I asked, feeling my heart plunge into my stomach. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Don’t you…want me?”

             
He shook his head and laughed. “Of course I want you. More than anything. But it won’t change the fact that I—”

             
“Then there’s nothing more to discuss,” I said, grabbing him by the neck and covering his mouth with mine, kissing him with all my might. He took a second to respond, but when he kissed me back, the intensity surprised me. All my remaining strength left me and I felt my knees give out and I began falling backwards. He caught me and wrapped his strong arms around me, steadying me, holding me as if he’d lose me if he let go. His lips trailed to my ear and he kissed it before saying, “Thank you.”

             
“For what?” I asked.

             
“For everything.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

34

 

 

             
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said, my breath short, my heart palpitating.

             
“You’ll be fine,” Adrien said, taking my hand and squeezing it. “You can do this.”

             
I gazed into his lovely face, hoping it would distract me from my fears. He looked better than ever—if that was even possible. Happiness agreed with him. The brooding guy I met months ago was replaced with someone determined to have hope. Hope was a choice, we were both learning. A daily decision. Rose taught us that. He started therapy two weeks after I found him outside of Tim’s Coffee. I saw a huge change in him the day he finally unearthed his secret—he finally collected the courage to talk to Abby’s parents and apologize. As I predicted, they didn’t press charges. In fact they forgave him right away. They were amazing that way. Of course they were emotional, but I think meeting Adrien and seeing how remorseful he was turned out to be a healing experience for everyone.

BOOK: Pictures of You
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