The Sophomore (College Years 2)

We talk a little more about his travels. Where he’s going next. When he’s coming home. He says record executives are still chasing after him, trying to get him to sign deals, which has been going on for a while, ever since he started performing regularly at one of the local venues in Fresno. But he’s not ready to tie himself down with anything. He claims he’s not sure if this is what he really wants.

Me: You’re going to have to make a choice sometime.

Jackson: I’ll keep up the dual life as long as I can. I’m only nineteen. I want to go party with my friends too, you know? This is starting to feel like a grind. Like a job.

Me: Are you performing at Strummers when you come back home?

Jackson: Yeah. I have a performance lined up for July 31st. Didn’t I tell you? Though I’m coming home on the 27th so I can have a little time to relax. I can’t wait.

My heart cracks wide open. He’ll be home in less than three weeks. I can’t wait to see him.

Me: It’ll be nice to have you back.

Jackson: Can’t wait to see you.

He sends me a heart emoji.

Don’t read too much into that. Don’t do it. Don’t.

Me: I’m sure you have plenty of female company.

Jackson: They’re not you though.

He doesn’t deny he’s with other girls, which I’m sure he is. Can’t focus on that though. That’s a downward spiral I don’t want to experience right now.

Me: I’m glad we’re friends.

There. What can he say to that? We are friends. And that’s all we’re gonna be. That’s all he’ll allow.

He doesn’t respond and I keep scrolling TikTok, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier. I’m tired. It’s already past two. I need to go to sleep. I work at eleven tomorrow, so I won’t get to sleep in as much as I usually do when I close.

Jackson: Sometimes I wonder why we’re not more than that, E. Why are you always so good to me? I don’t deserve you.

I stare at what he wrote, reading it again and again. He’s right. He doesn’t deserve me. And he probably doesn’t mean it when he says he wonders why we’re not more than that. He’s said that type of thing to me before, when we were younger and he’d flirt with me, always getting my hopes up.

I’m trying to not let that happen anymore.

Me: Because we both know it would never work.

Jackson: Right. I’d mess it up.

Me: You would. Oh, and you’re right.

Jackson: What about?

I contemplate telling him the truth. Will he get angry? Do I care if he does? For once, I should stand up for myself. Call him out for his crap. He needs to hear it.

He needs to hear me.

Me: You don’t deserve me.

Me: You never really have.

Two

Ellie

One month later