Call It What You Want, page 12
“Why have we never done that before?”
I planted a small kiss on his lips and wrapped the towel around my shivering body. Showering with someone else was one of my least favorite experiences, but I’d never let him know that. I’d do almost anything to please him. I wanted to make him realize that I was more than enough.
“What’s on the agenda today?” His mood seemed to have lifted.
“I was thinking we could walk around SoHo and grab lunch. I haven’t been down there yet. Then we’ll head back here to change before the Yankee game.”
“What?”
“I got us tickets to the game tonight. I know it’s not a big one, but I got us good seats. I get a discount through work.”
“Sloane, that’s awesome. Thank you so much.” He grabbed my face and kissed it all over. I loved making him happy.
***
It took us over an hour to get into the Bronx. The subway ride was rough, but we brought a water bottle with vodka in it, so that at least made it bearable.
When we got through the line and into Yankee Stadium, we waited in another line for beer before making our way to section 103.
“These seats are sick!” Ethan said as we sat down.
“You can thank The Gist. My salary might be entry-level, and my position might not be the one I wanted, but at least I get some perks.”
“Do they need any new employees?” he joked.
“Very funny. Before the game starts, can we take a picture for my story?” I opened the app, pointed the front camera at us, and tilted my head closer to his. We both smiled as I snapped the photo.
He followed it up with, “Don’t post that.”
I took off my sunglasses and looked at him. “Are you serious?”
“You can save it. But just don’t post it.”
“Why?” I was starting to get pissed off.
“I don’t know. I just don’t understand why every time girls do something, they have to post about it.”
“God forbid you come and visit me in New York, I take you to a Yankee game and want to post about it. I really don’t see the big deal. I used to post pictures of us.”
“Whatever, just do what you want.”
I saved the photo and never posted it. At that point, I didn’t want to. Why did he have to be like that? Was he trying to hide that he was visiting me? Was he trying to hide me? The entire game that was all I could think about.
At the bottom of the fifth inning, Ethan went to find us food and more drinks. I stayed at our seats and texted Lauren to complain because I knew she’d understand.
“Here you go.” Ethan handed me a hot dog and a Blue Moon. “Hope these are okay.”
“How much was everything?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I passive-aggressively enjoyed my hot dog and waited for the game to end. I wanted to be anywhere else, but even with the discount, the seats weren’t cheap. So I sat in silence until they won. At least we had that going for us. After the game, we went to a dive bar down the street where I drank too much, so Ethan called us an Uber back into the city. My last memory of the night was falling asleep in the back seat.
Morning came, and I was upset that I let a small argument get in the way of Ethan’s last night in the city. He would be leaving a few hours later, and I wished that I could press rewind and start the weekend over again.
“I wish you could stay.” I rolled over and positioned my body closer to his.
“Me too.” He stroked my hair.
“This weekend felt different.” The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.
“Yeah, it did kind of.”
To avoid the subject further, I got on top of him and started kissing him. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me, and I knew how much he loved morning sex, so I did just that.
I peeled off his T-shirt, followed by his boxers, and within seconds he found his way into me.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “You feel so good.”
“Kiss me,” I murmured.
He did more than that. Ethan flipped me over so that he was on top. He kissed me, and I relished every second of it. His pace quickened as my breaths became shorter, and I could tell we only had a few seconds left.
I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready for him to leave.
“I’m close.” He pressed his mouth up to my ear.
I wasn’t, but I couldn’t focus on anything besides the thought of how he wouldn’t be in my bed tonight. I let out a few quiet moans, and that was all it took.
“Fuck, Sloane.” He rolled over onto the pillow beside me and let out a deep sigh. “Maybe we can go one more round,” he offered, but we both knew we didn’t have time for that.
An hour later he stood in the living room, freshly showered, bag packed, and Uber ordered. I walked him downstairs as we waited for the car to pull up. Neither of us were talking because we didn’t know what to say. I hated goodbyes, and this one was proving worse than I’d expected.
I think Ethan could tell I was on the verge of tears because he pulled me toward him and wrapped me in his arms. The warmth of his body gave me comfort until his ride pulled up. He waited another minute before pulling away.
“See you soon, Hart.”
I watched the car drive away, and a tear fell down my cheek. Why did this have to be so hard? Our relationship had always been hard, and I was ready for it to be easy. Didn’t we at least deserve that?
***
It was getting dark out, and I hadn’t heard from Ethan. I assumed that he had made it home safely but sent a text to be sure. He didn’t fly too often, so maybe he just didn’t realize what texting etiquette was like when it came to taking off and landing.
Time ticked by—two hours and three unread messages later, my phone finally buzzed. I braced myself as I glimpsed the length of his response, the longest I’d ever seen from him, and felt a sudden pit forming in my stomach.
10:18 p.m.
Ethan Brady: I’m sorry to do this over text, but I couldn’t find the words earlier. I don’t think this is something I can do anymore. I feel so bad saying that, but you deserve someone who’s ready to go all in with you. I’m just not there yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. I never pictured myself in a relationship or getting married, but when you came along, I was confused. I still am. I want what’s best for you, and I’m not it. I have problems that you don’t want to get involved in, and as much as it kills me, I know I have to let you go. You deserve so much more than me.
Ethan’s words felt cold and final on my screen, but they were nothing I hadn’t heard before.
I’m sorry to do this over text… The message echoed in my mind as I read it again, disbelief and anger bubbling up inside me. With my heart pounding hard against my ribs, I hit the call button, each ring sending shivers down my spine.
The moment he answered, I let it all out. “Are you kidding me, Ethan? Over text?”
“Sloane, I—”
“No, just don’t,” I snapped, cutting him off. “You spend the whole weekend here, and you can’t even say it to my face? That was your exit strategy?”
“I know,” he sighed heavily. “I wanted to. I just—I couldn’t. I knew how emotional it would be, and this relationship was already hard enough on both of us. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
“Well, you managed to make it so much worse. I hate you, Ethan. With every fiber of my being, I hate you for this. This entire year. How could you do this to me? You let me fall for you. You let me believe you’d eventually get there. You even let me believe things were okay all weekend. You had every opportunity to end it, and this is how you chose to do so? I should’ve known…” My voice was sharp.
I might have sounded tough, but on the other side of the phone I was falling apart.
He spoke again, his voice low. “I’m sorry, Sloane. I’m so, so sorry.”
I ended the call with a click and hurled my phone against the wall, where it left a mark. How could someone I did nothing but love do nothing but hurt me in return? The arteries around my heart tightened, making it harder to breathe. I’d never known a heartbreak like this, one that caused physical pain.
I spun around to find Lauren in the doorway, her eyes wide. I was sure she’d heard everything. She walked towards me and wrapped me in a hug, which made me cry even more. For the girl who was finally starting to be in control of her own life, I sure felt pretty powerless.
“I’m so sorry.” She broke away from the hug to pick up my phone and make sure it wasn’t broken.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
“Do you want some space? Some wine?”
“Wine, definitely wine,” I said.
“Of course.”
We sat on the couch as a mindless reality show played in the background until I was ready to rehash the weekend’s series of unfortunate events with Lauren.
“I really thought things were different this time,” I said. “I feel so stupid, delusional even, for thinking we could make long distance work when we couldn’t even have a functional relationship as neighbors.”
“Sloane, you’re not stupid. Love just blinds people. You were blind and hopeful, never stupid.”
“I really thought he was ready this time. Or I hoped that he was anyway.”
“Some people just aren’t ready, no matter how much time you give them. Nothing will change until they decide they’re ready,” Lauren explained. “You can’t wait for them though.”
“But I love him.” I started crying again. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before.”
“You’re gonna hate to hear this, Sloane, but we’re so young. Your person is out there, and they’re going to be your person for the rest of your life. You won’t have to worry about this one-foot-in, one-foot-out situation with them. You don’t want someone who comes back; you want someone who never leaves.”
“I just wanted it to be Ethan.”
“I know you did.”
I crawled into bed, burrowed myself under the covers, and tried to sleep. Even then, when I closed my eyes, all I saw was him. Isn’t it funny how that happens? One day you don’t know someone exists, and the next you can’t imagine life without them.
18
Ethan
June 2017
Sloane hung up on me. I didn’t blame her, I guess. Why did I have to be the world’s biggest dick and do that over text? Why couldn’t I, for once in my life, just be vulnerable and honest? I owed that much to her, I knew that. I just couldn’t give it to her.
Graham said there was a party at a brother’s house in Wrightsville he wanted to go to, so I decided to join to take my mind off things. I’d love nothing more than to be drunk or stoned right now. After I showered, I threw on a Pike T-shirt, khaki shorts, and Nikes, and found Graham cracking open a beer.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Grab a beer first.” He pointed at the fridge. I cracked open a Miller Lite and took a seat next to him on the couch. “So what happened with Sloane?”
“Did she call you?” I asked.
“Dude, I could hear you on the phone. You weren’t necessarily being quiet.”
“I ended things with her.” I knew Graham wouldn’t give up until I told him. “I just felt like it was unfair to her.”
“What was?”
“Leading her on when I can’t date her. Not to mention the fact that we were long distance when we weren’t even dating.”
“Haven’t we been here before? Why didn’t you want to date her? I get the long distance thing, but I feel like it’s more than that.”
“I don’t know. I really don’t wanna talk or think about it anymore tonight.”
Graham didn’t press me any further. We finished our beers, and once Jake got home from work, we headed to the party. Like most Wrightsville party houses, this one was a run-down shithole, but it was unusually packed for a Sunday summer night.
Before Sloane there were other girls. Of course there were other girls. A lot of them, if I’m being honest. I was constantly surrounded by attractive girls—classes, pregames, parties, you name it, there were at least five girls in the room I’d be willing to sleep with. But that was it. It was always a one-time thing. A one-night stand. I’d go to her apartment, we’d hook up, and then I’d make up some excuse as to why I had to leave so I could sleep in my own bed. Until I met her.
Sloane was different. I couldn’t explain it, but I had this instant connection with her that I hadn’t experienced with anyone else before. She was funny, smart, and cared about everyone around her. Not to mention she was also hot. I enjoyed spending time with her, so much so that I allowed her to get closer than I’d ever let anyone before. She knew almost as much about me as Graham did, except for the reason why I was the way I was. You might be thinking that this was a good thing—opening up, being vulnerable, letting someone in—and sure, maybe to some people it was, but not to me. I let Sloane get too close, and I knew I’d never be able to be the kind of person she wanted, the kind of person she deserved.
I tried to get out of my head and guzzled down two cups full of keg beer before joining Graham at the pong table on the back patio.
“Think we could take you on next?” Two semiattractive girls bounced over, flipping their hair like that would make any sort of difference. They knew we’d let them play.
“How about we switch it up so you have a chance of winning? One of you with each of us?” Graham suggested. “What’re your names?”
“I’m Jamie,” the taller one said.
“And I’m Marissa.”
“Jamie, you’re with me,” I blurted out, trying to channel some sort of alpha vibe. Girls loved a guy who took control.
“Hi, Marissa. I’m Graham.” He was much smoother in his delivery.
“And your name is?” Jamie asked, eyebrow raised.
“Ethan.” Just Ethan, no need for last names at a party, especially with a girl I had no intention of seeing again after tonight.
We played, we won, and then we got comfortable on the couch, where we passed around a bong. When Jamie and Marissa hit the bathroom, Graham and I hit the whiskey—hard. Not my usual scene, but tonight I didn’t want to feel a damn thing.
“Hey.” Jamie slid next to me later, her voice low. “I’m kinda over this party.”
“Same here. Crash at your place?” I tossed out, casual.
Her eyes lit up. “Thought you’d never ask. Let’s walk; it’s close.”
That was easier than I thought.
In my drunken haze and the glow of the streetlights, I tried to take note of Jamie as we walked down the block to her house. She was much taller than Sloane, had medium-length blond hair that had a sort of frizzy curl to it, and dressed like she went to that party asking to be fucked. Cutoff shorts that her ass pretty much hung out of and a white crop top that you could see her nipples through. I wasn’t complaining, but I knew exactly what kind of girl she was.
“This is me.” She pointed to a little white house.
We stumbled in, and some tiny furball started yapping. “Want a drink or something?” Jamie was already halfway to another room.
“I’m good. I’ll just be right here.” I plopped onto her couch and wrangled my phone out of my pocket. I checked my text messages, wondering if any were from Sloane. None. That was to be expected, I guess.
Jamie didn’t play games. She came back, grabbed my hand, and it was straight to her room. I tried not to think too hard as we started kissing. It felt off, kissing someone who wasn’t Sloane, but I was trying to scrub her from my mind, one beer, one shot, one kiss at a time.
I lowered her onto the bed and stripped her clothes off, quickly and efficiently. I wanted to get this over with. I thought this was what I needed, and maybe it was, but something about it still didn’t feel quite right. It was all so mechanical. Nothing had felt right since the Uber drove away from Sloane’s apartment. But it would. It would all make sense one day.
19
Sloane
June 2017
No one talks about the morning after a breakup enough. Swollen eyes. Waking up—if you were lucky enough to sleep—wondering if it was just a nightmare. Realizing that it wasn’t. The pain in your heart reappearing. No Good morning text. No I’m sorry I fucked up voicemail. Nothing. That was your new reality. A cold bed, an empty stomach, and an ache in your chest that you fear will never go away.
I looked at myself in the front camera on my phone, because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get out of bed. My eyes were the size of golf balls; I’m surprised I could even open them. There was no way I could keep my composure for an entire day in the office, and even if I could, my appearance would scare off all my new coworkers.
“Can you call in sick today?” Lauren stood at the end of my bed.
I hated lying, but I knew that was my only option. I handed Lauren my phone so she could send a message to Annie for me. I watch her type away, hit send, and place the phone back on my bed.
“Do you want me to stay home?” she offered.
“We can’t both lose our jobs.” I let out a slight laugh.
“You know I’d stay if I could. Call me if you need anything—and don’t start drinking until at least four. Okay?”
The silence after the front door clicked shut felt heavy, loaded with the weight of finality. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for my phone, scrolling to the one person who always seemed to have the answers. Well, about Ethan anyway.
“Hello?” he answered groggily.
“Hey, Graham,” I replied.
“Everything okay? You never call this early.” His voice was thick, and I knew he was hungover. I wanted to ask what he did last night, but it probably involved Ethan, and unfortunately, he was none of my business anymore.
I pressed my free hand against my forehead, willing back the tears. “I’m… How are you?”
“Sloane, cut the shit. What’s going on?” He was more awake now.
With a deep breath that did little to calm me, I confessed. “Ethan dumped me. Over text. I just don’t get it. Was I not enough for him?” I started to sniffle.
