A Grateful Kind of Love Page 3
When we were young, we decided that we would use the cottage for emergencies when we needed to get away to discuss important matters. We wanted a code, and at first, we thought we should use 911, but we changed our minds, deciding we required something original. So, we switched the nine to a four. Clearly, we’re incredibly clever. Years later, we discovered that 411 is actually an expression people use for the truth. It’s also a number that people used to dial to get information. So, apparently, we weren’t as stealthy with code inventions as we had thought. But it’s kind of cool that the 411 means the truth because the cottage is where Landon and I would go to talk about the hard stuff, the truths that seemed too great to speak of anywhere else.
Landon stops at the last gas station before his road and runs in. I’m not surprised when he comes out with a carton of ice cream and plastic spoons. Ice cream is always involved when we have a code 411—and not just any ice cream, always cookies and cream. It’s the flavor that Landon had in his home freezer during our first trip to the cottage for an emergency when we were just little kids.
Landon drives through a field and parks right along the tree line before the clearing to the cottage. Any driveway that this place once had has been long replaced with wildflowers and tall grass.
We didn’t talk on the way here. Landon must have sensed that I needed time to gather my thoughts. I did text my mom to let her know that I was now with Landon. Curfew is never in place when I’m with the Porter boys. My parents trust them completely.
We enter the small house, and Landon starts lighting some candles since this place isn’t connected to electricity. With a sigh, I plop down on an old sofa, covering my mouth as a cloud of dust rises from the worn cushions.
The dim and dusty feel of this long-forgotten place has always been part of the allure. No one has come here in twenty years besides the two of us. Our whispered secrets are kept safe between these lonely walls.
The images on Everett’s phone flash through my mind, and I shudder. When did the events of today become my reality? Long gone are the childhood problems of strict parents or unfair teachers, complaints that are only valid in the mind of a child. I wish I were crying because my best friend had taken someone else to the waterpark instead of me or I were upset because Mr. Schmidt had given me a C on a paper that was clearly an A. I wish more than anything that I hadn’t given myself to someone today, only to have my heart broken beyond recognition.
“Hey.” Landon sits across from me with the now-open container of ice cream in his hand. He hands me a spoon. “Tell me.”
I take a bite, making sure to grab one with a large chunk of cookie. And I tell him.
I tell him everything.
I don’t know why I feel so safe, revealing all of my secrets to Landon, but I do. I always have. He’s like a cool big brother who never judges me and wants the best for me. He’s definitely one of my favorite people in this world.
Landon just listens as I go over every last detail of this horrid day.
When I’m finished, he frowns and slightly shakes his head. “I’m really sorry, Amy. Everett is a complete asshole. You deserve so much better than him.”
“Why are guys like that? Why isn’t one girl enough? Why don’t they say what they feel? Why are they liars?” I spout off questions, angry with Everett and all other jerks like him.
“Not all guys are like that. Everett’s an immature douche bag, Amy.”
“How did I not see it? I was with him for seven months.” I’m embarrassed that I’m so naive or idiotic to have missed the signs. There had to have been signs.
“Everett is a liar, and he is good at it. Some people are master manipulators, and he’s one of them. He’s an asshole, Ames. He was never meant to be your forever. You’re too young to find that right now anyway. I’m sorry that you gave him something special when he didn’t respect you. That’s not your fault though. That’s on him.”
I blow out a defeated sigh. “I feel so stupid, more than anything.”
“It’s not your fault,” Landon tells me again. “I’m not gonna lie, Amy. What you went through today sucks. It’s not how you’d wanted it to go. But it happened, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. I’m really sorry.” The sorrow that Landon feels for me can be felt through his words. It’s a tangible love that wraps around me, giving me hope that tomorrow will be better.
“I’m sorry, too.” I plop my spoon in the ice cream carton next to Landon’s, unable to eat another bite. I bring my gaze to his. “You’re kind of a player.” The statement leaves my mouth before I can stop it.
Landon releases a forced chuckle. “I am not like Everett, Amy.”
“Are you sure?” The question is hesitant.
“Yes, I’m sure. Everett and I are very different. He’s a liar. I’m honest about my lack of desire for relationships. I date around a lot, yes. But the girls I date know what I’m looking for and what I don’t want. I don’t try to fool or hurt anyone. And I only hang out with girls who feel the same. See the difference?” He lowers his brow and fixes me with a stare.
“Yeah,” I answer truthfully because I do see the difference.
I suppose I just wanted reassurance. Landon is nothing like Everett, and that fact brings me some relief. It would break my heart if my friend were like that monster I called my boyfriend.
“You positive?” he questions.
“Yes. You’re nothing like him.”
“Damn straight,” Landon grumbles.
I force a smile. “I don’t want to talk about my pathetic life anymore. Tell me something good. Give me all the highlights of your first year of college. I barely spoke to you while you were up there.”
“First of all, your life isn’t pathetic. Your choice of first loves is questionable, but, hey, no one’s perfect.” He grins.
“Gee, thanks.” I nudge his knee with mine.
“College is awesome, Ames. You’re going to love it.”
Amy
Nineteen Years Old
Beginning of Freshman Year
My sister, Lily, stands on my new mattress, her arms up in the air as she holds up a strand of small white Christmas lights.
“Keep them up. I’m almost there.” I stand in the opposite corner of the small room, affixing the strand of lights in my hands to the painted cement wall.
“I am, but hurry. My arms are getting tired.”
I jump down from the stool and hop onto my new twin bed. Taking the string of lights from Lily, I stick the last section to the wall above the bed.
“There. Perfect,” I say.
Lily and I scan the room. The slight glow from the lights makes the cold space so much cozier.
“Such an improvement. It will look so good when you get your pictures up. Do you want me to help you with those?” Lily asks.
“No, that’s okay. I can do those later. I know Dad doesn’t want to get back too late.”
I plop down on the bed, bouncing up with a laugh as I fall. Lily bounces down beside me. We both lie back and stare at the ceiling.
“Did they purposely paint the ceiling yellow?” she asks, her voice rising in question.
“I’m pretty sure, years ago, it was white.” I giggle.
I turn my head toward Lily as she scrunches up her nose.
“Ew.”
“Don’t judge. You’re going to be staring at these aged ceilings in three years.” I playfully elbow her side.
“Maybe. If I go here. But you’d think, with as much as this place costs, they could paint the ceilings yearly.”
“Right?” I agree. “Oh well. I’m here. Can you believe it?”
“Yes, I can. You knew when you were five that you’d be going to the University of Michigan someday,” Lily says. “It is on your vision board after all.” She snickers.
I purse my lips together in mock annoyance. “Hey, don’t make fun of the vision board. It’s legit.” I sit up, resting my hands against the mattress on either side of my hips.
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sp; Lily sits up beside me. “I’m just kidding. I’m proud of you, sis.”
“Thank you.” I lean my head against hers. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Same,” she says before calling over to Keeley, our youngest sister, who is lying across my futon, her fingers feverishly tapping away against her phone. “We’re going to miss Amy like crazy, aren’t we, Kiki?”
“Yep,” Keeley answers without taking her eyes off of her phone.
“I really feel your love, Kiki. Thanks,” I kid.
“You know I’ll miss you, Ames. But Justin is in a group chat with us right now, saying that he’s better than us because he has Gucci shoes. What a jerk, right?” she asks, her voice full of exasperation.
“He doesn’t sound like a very cool person. Who cares what brand of shoe someone wears? Seriously, he doesn’t sound nice,” I tell her.
“I know! That’s what I’m telling Karlie right now. I’m not talking to him anymore. He’s a snob,” she huffs out.
“Sounds like a good idea,” I tell her with a slight grin. I’m going to miss watching her navigate her final year of middle school, but I know I’ll hear all about it. Plus, Ann Arbor is only an hour and a half away from Athens, so I can go home a lot.
My dad’s voice sounds from the common room, a small space that sits between the two bedrooms belonging to my roommate and me. I hop off of the bed and meet him.
“Last box. Where do you want it?” my dad asks, holding a box of my pictures in his arms.
“That one can go on my bed. Thanks, Dad,” I tell him.
I look to the side to see my mom unloading a mesh bag of groceries. She has my mini fridge open and is playing a game of food Tetris, trying to fit the contents inside.
I chuckle. “Mom, you know I have a meal plan. I don’t need that much food.”
She nods. “I know, but you should always have healthy snacks available. You aren’t going to want to run out every time that you’re hungry.”
“You’re so good to me. What am I going to do without you?”
“Visit home often,” she says.
“Of course I will.”
“Hi! You must be Amy.”
I turn to find a girl with long, sleek red hair standing in the doorway. She wears a large smile and has kind deep blue eyes.
“Yes, I’m Amy,” I answer her.
She takes a step toward me, extending her hand. “I’m Megan, your roomie. Glad you’re here. I was, like, one of the first in the building to move in. I must’ve been pretty excited, I guess.” She chuckles. “I’ve been walking around, meeting everyone. So glad you’re finally here.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “I’m really excited, too.”
“Hello, Amy’s family.” She waves toward my parents and sisters.
We all chat a few minutes with Megan, who I can tell I’m really going to like. She’s one of those people who is so cheerful that one can’t help but feel happy right along with her. My parents indicate that they have to get going, and Megan says her good-byes before retreating to her room.
I know that I’m less than two hours away from home, but saying good-bye now has me feeling sad.
“I love you.” I hug my dad tight.
“I love you, baby girl. You’re going to do great. I’m so proud of you,” he tells me.
I hug Keeley. “Make sure to keep me posted on your life, especially now that you have a phone. I want video-chat updates.”
“Totally,” Kiki tells me.
I exchange hugs with Lily and my mom before they all head out. Lily and Keeley keep turning back to wave, and I wave back until they round the corner, out of sight.
I close my door and lean against it with a sigh.
Megan comes skipping out of her room. “Family’s gone?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Awesome! Let’s start getting ready.” She bounces up on her toes and claps her hands.
“For?” I giggle.
“Our first college party, of course.” She shoots me a wink.
“There’s a party tonight?”
“Oh, there’s always a party,” she tells me with a smirk. “What do you have to wear?”
I spend the next few minutes watching Megan toss all of my clothes from the garbage bags that they were stuffed in for my move onto my bed.
“Nope. No. Uh, no. Definitely no,” she says, curling up her nose as she continues to fling my clothes into a heap. She drops the empty plastic bag and scans me from head to toe. “Actually, I have something perfect for you to wear.”
“Okay, but I need to shower first.” I smile toward Megan.
After searching through my boxes for a towel and my toiletries, I throw on some flip-flops and follow Megan out of our room to the showers down the hall. Communal showers definitely aren’t one of the bonuses of living on campus, but as I step into the hot spray, I couldn’t care less that the next nine months will be spent showering next to others, only separated by a thin shower curtain because, tonight … I’m going to my first college party.
I can’t wait.
I pull down on my short black skirt as I navigate the uneven sidewalks of Hill Street.
I feel like an imposter. I should be carrying a flashing neon sign that reads, Out-of-place, small-town country girl.
Releasing my grip on my skirt for a moment, I alternate my attention toward the tight piece of red fabric covering my top half—although covering is an overstatement.
I bow my shoulders down and pull up on the tank top with one hand while pushing down on my cleavage with the other.
Megan laughs beside me. “Stop it, Amy. You look hot.” She pauses and eyes me from my heels to my boobs. “Well, that is, when you aren’t fidgeting like a thirteen-year-old void of confidence.”
I let out a sigh, “It has nothing to do with confidence. You’ll see that, normally, I have rather positive self-esteem. But doesn’t this outfit scream, I need attention?”
We stop walking, and Megan turns to face me. She gives me a serious once-over. “Nope, you look amazing,” she says with an approving nod of her head. “Listen, I know this isn’t how you dress for your cornfield bonfires back home in the country, but this is how one dresses for a college party.”
I wrap my arms around my waist. “How do you know? This is your first college party, too.” My lips turn up into a grin.
She tosses her long, fiery locks over her shoulder and places her hands on her hips. “Because I know.” She grins wide. “Trust me.”
I’ve known Megan a total of six hours, but I think we’re going to be great friends. She’s an energetic, fun, and kind person. We’ve been getting along great, which is wonderful, considering she’s majoring in nursing as well, which means that she and I are going to be spending a lot of time together over the next four years. I know she believes that she did me a favor by lending me this ensemble and insisting I wear it because, apparently, it’s one of her favorites. But, as I look at her, standing across from me in a strapless faux leather dress, I can’t help but notice that, though we’re about the same height and build, she doesn’t have the hips or chest that I do.
I lower my chin to take in my outfit, and I’m greeted by my breasts. “I feel like I’m falling out of it.”
“Only in the right places.” She shoots me a wink. “Come on.” She loops her arm through mine, and we continue down the sidewalk. “Amy, this is our first college house party. This is big and exciting. Stop worrying and just have fun.”
Tonight’s party is a huge check mark on my first semester to-do list, and I’m crossing it off on the first day. I don’t like that I’m walking into it with this feeling of unease. I just need to stand tall and own it.
I pull in a breath, filling my lungs with the warm night air, and roll my shoulders back. “Okay, you’re right.” I feel steadier with each step.
We pass one enormous fraternity house after the next, most alive with activity of college kids letting loose before the first week of classes begin.
“How do you know about this party again?” I ask Megan.
“Samantha—from down the hall—her brother’s friend works at the Pizza House with one of the guy’s cousins who’s buddies with one of the guys throwing the party. So, we got an invite.”
I laugh. “Seems legit.”
She chuckles. “It doesn’t really matter. We could show up to any of these houses and be welcome. Yay, college!”
I shake my head with a smile.
As we make our way up the steps toward the large house, Megan whispers directions beside me, “Just look casual, like you’ve been to a million of these. First things first. We need to find a drink.”
I nod. “Drink … got it.”
Loud music bounces off the walls as Megan and I slither our way through the people toward the pseudo-bar set up in the back corner. There’s a group of guys holding up a girl by her legs as she holds on to a keg. Their deep voices count down as she guzzles the beer.
“No keg stands,” Megan says. “That will just get you in trouble.”