Three Summers

“Uh, I guess. But let’s go up to my room in case my dad comes home early. I wasn’t kidding. He will kill you if he sees you.” My dad wouldn’t hurt a fly, but I’m pretty sure that he values Rowen’s life even less than a fly’s.

Rowen follows me up to my room in silence. It feels like there’s an even deeper tension in the air than there was the other night. Great. When we get into my room, Rowen looks around until he pauses at the window… probably remember how he climbed through it so many times—my 17th birthday being the first time, and a few days before the attack being the last. My heart hurts a little as I think about his lengthy body shimmying out of the window in the wee hours of the night; it seems like ages ago. It seems like that little bit of innocence that we had back then, has long disappeared.

I go over and take a seat on the window ledge, so his eyes can be brought back to me instead of those memories that I know are flashing through his mind. He shakes his head and leans against my pink wall. He looks attractive, with his hair messy on top and a little bit of stubble on his rigid jaw. My heart flutters for a second as I take him in and I suddenly feel butterflies flying around in my stomach.

“I have a proposition for you.” I flick an eyebrow up. That was not what I was expecting to come out of his mouth.

“Okay… ” I say, scrunitzing him.

“I think you need to take this next school year and think about if you want to forgive me or not.” I stare at him for a few painfully long seconds, then I end up nodding my head. Okay, seems fair.

“And if you decide to forgive me, come back to work at the Country Club next summer and I think we… ” He looks nervous, as his fingers are twitching a little and he keep adjusting his posture on the wall. “I think we should try to be friends.”

My heart catches in my throat. Friends. Friends with Rowen? My voice comes out weak. “Do you really think we can be friends after… everything?”

He shrugs. “I’m not sure. But I’m willing to try, if you give me a chance,” he says in response as he strides up to me. We’re inches apart, and I can feel my heart yearning for him with as my mind screams at me to retreat. Abort mission, abort!

If my back wasn’t to the window, I would have taken a step away from him. His face, his smell, everything about him draws me into him. Erases my hurt. How is it that the one person who hurt me so deeply is more than likely the only person who can take it away? “I’ll… ” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, bowing my head. “I’ll think about it.”

He gets down on one knee and meets my eyes from down below. I stare into the endless brown of them and I swear I can feel the love coursing from his body. When our eyes meet, it’s like our souls are connecting again, and I hate it. I hate that I’m so affected by him. Just by his eyes.

“That’s all I ask, Sadie. I’m just so sorry… ” He shakes his head, allowing his messy coffee-colored hair to fall onto his forehead “I’m sorry from the bottom of my soul. I will never stop feeling so ashamed of that night and the past year. Never.” He reaches up and tucks a long strand of my hair behind my ear and I can feel my heart beating in them, thumping rapidly from the touch. “I’m sorry.” His voice quakes as he stands up and leaves my room quicker than I can even process what just happened. I peek out my window when I hear the door shut and watch him climb into his beat-up, old truck. He bangs his fist against the steering wheel several times before starting the roaring engine, then he drives off down the street. I bring my hand up and place it on my chin, “Well, that just happened… ”

Part Two

Summer, 2011

Twelve

The song “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC is pouring through my car’s speakers and I instantly turn the volume up to its highest capacity. The change in my center console is smacking together due to the bass and I stifle a grin as I grab my phone to call Alicia. The second she answers I put it on speaker, so she can hear. In addition to all of our similarities, I found out this year that Alicia is also just as into AC/DC as I am. When she first told me I thought she was kidding and somehow learned of my obsession with the band, but she wasn’t. We both just have a love for AC/DC, like two little rock and roll babies. I blame my dad for brainwashing me. AC/DC is his favorite band and he played it for me when I was a baby and then for the rest of my life; so, I kind of fell in love with them by default.

After Alicia and I sing the entire song together, over the phone, I finally turn the volume down and have an actual conversation with her.

“Are you back in the States?” she asks, with more emotion than I’ve ever heard her use in our entire two years of friendship.

“I just landed a half hour ago; I’m about forty minutes from home. Did you miss me?”

After spring semester ended, I was offered an internship in Haiti by one of my professors to teach children in one of the villages. It was an amazing opportunity, and I snatched it right up. Anything to get me further away from coming back home to deal with the Rowen issue. It was only two weeks, but two weeks was two weeks when you were using time as a buffer. Plus, it was an incredible experience. Seeing the conditions over there, getting to work on my teaching skills, the bright faces of the Hait

i children; it was absolutely amazing.

“Duh, only two months and three days until we get to move into our apartment! I was already at the store with my mom buying some decorations. I am so excited.” Before I can even interrupt and tell her how I excited I am, too (because seriously, an apartment with my best friend? Who wouldn’t be busting at the seams?), she asks a ba-jillion questions about Haiti and if there were any hotties in the internship that stole my attention. There weren’t. My last fling was with Mark (I know. How bland of a name is that?). But, it was fun while it lasted… I guess.

Mark. Marky-mark. Ugh. He was in my French class and we were partners for most of the group work that Professeur Mills set up every single week. We were to converse in French, and our final was having to perform a lesson on something in the most romantic language in the world. I, of course, aced it, and Mark and I went out to celebrate—where he kissed me, taking me completely by surprise. But, it was a nice kiss and we all know that I needed a distraction from my last relationship. We were an off and on for the first semester but he became way too clingy, basically stalking me, and plus, I learned that he wasn’t my type at all.

Sadly, I also learned that my type revolved entirely around Rowen. Every single guy I encountered even semi-romantically, I compared to Rowen. He doesn’t make me laugh like Rowen … He doesn’t make me smile like Rowen… His eyes are a shade too dark, nothing like Rowen’s… Blah, Blah, Blah. Alicia actually pointed it out to me. She said, “Stop sabotaging every guy’s potential because of Rowen, unless… you still want to be with Rowen.” Red flags popped up faster than I could even register the thought, which I, of course, mulled over for months to come. Not only was I mulling over the last thing Rowen said to me before I left for school, but now I had to face the fact that I’m not quite over our little love spurt like I told myself. I was over the attack and what happened afterwards… I think so, at least. The moment Rowen asked me to forgive him and be friends with him, I knew that I would. I knew that I would pretend to think about it over the school year, and maybe I would or wouldn’t return back to the country club, but deep down, that taunting voice in the back of my head called me a liar and turned her nose up at my protests. I knew I would return back to the country club, but I definitely need to get over the fact that I had once loved him. I need to let the happy, good parts that we had in our relationship go, because if I don’t, this summer is going to end up filled with a whole ‘lotta heartbreak.

Not seeing Rowen during all the breaks this year was difficult. In the midst of dealing with Stalker Mark, I was still trying to decipher my feelings for Rowen and was overwhelmed by the want and need to just peek in on him. I have no idea how our paths didn’t cross when I was home, and I have no idea how I was able to keep it together at school and not use Alicia’s social media to creep on him, but I did. Maybe it was the grace of God.

“Look at that tan!” My mom beams as soon as I park my car in the driveway and climb out. It’s not nearly as hot here as it was in Haiti. The classrooms were outside underneath a small shaded area, which really didn’t help the heat much. Half the time I was pushed outside of the shade so the children could be covered—they deserved to learn in a shaded area, especially give their housing conditions.

My mom hugs me tightly and she looks exactly same as when I saw her over Christmas break. Still beautiful and vibrant, with her brown hair cut into a bob. As I’m hugging her and soaking in her motherly love, my dad is leaning against the doorway with a smile on his face.

“Hey, Daddy!”

“Tell me all about it!” he says as he whisks me inside the door, grabbing my things from me.

That night, we literally spend all of our time talking about Haiti and my teaching experience there, which he loves to hear about it since he is a teacher, too. I know, it’s seems cliché to follow in my dad’s footsteps but I really do enjoy teaching. Just like he and my mom said I would. They said I have the “teaching gene,” whatever the heck that is.