Another Day (Every Day 2)

“So…what?” she asks. “This is it? We stop?”

I shake my head. “I want us to be in each other’s lives. But your life can’t keep derailing mine. I need to be with my friends, A. I need to go to school and go to prom and do all the things I’m supposed to do. I am grateful—truly grateful—not to be with Justin anymore. But I can’t let go of the other things.”

“You can’t do that for me the way I can do that for you?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

And I don’t want him to do it for me, either. I don’t. We are not worth that.

“Rhiannon…,” A says. But then it stops there. As if he’s finally realizing what the truth is. And what it means for us.

We could argue about it for hours. For days. We could keep coming to this bench, A in a different body each time. It wouldn’t matter. I know this. And I think that A is starting to know it, too.

I lean over and kiss him (her) on the cheek.

“I should go,” I say. “Not forever. But for now. Let’s talk again in a few days. If you really think about it, you’ll come to the same conclusion. And then it won’t be as bad. Then we’ll be able to work through it together, and figure out what comes next. I want there to be something next. It just can’t be…”

“Love?”

No. “A relationship. Dating. What you want.”

I stand up. I have to go now. Not because I’m going to change my mind if I stay. I know I’m not going to change my mind. But I also know it will hurt A more to keep trying and failing.

“We’ll talk,” I promise.

“We’ll talk,” he says. It’s a statement, not a promise.

I hover there. I don’t want to leave it like this.

“Rhiannon, I love you,” he says, her voice breaking.

“And I love you,” I say.

I know it’s something. It’s not enough, but it’s something.

I give a little wave, then head to my car. I don’t look back. I keep myself together. It isn’t until I’m in the car, until I’ve put on my seat belt, that it all comes out. My body needs to release this. So I let it go. I let myself be the mess my life has become. And when I’m done, I blow my nose, wipe my eyes, turn the key in the ignition, and find my way home.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

As soon as I get to my room, I want to email A, to take it back.

But I have to be stronger than that. Because I know that would be a lie, and I need to live with the truth.

—

I have no intention of going to the homecoming game, and Rebecca and Preston have no intention of letting me get out of it. I might be able to resist one of them, but their combined force is too much for me.

They call me on speakerphone from Rebecca’s house.

“You have to come,” Preston insists.

“I don’t care if Mystery Man is planning on taking you on a tour of Europe this weekend,” Rebecca says. “This comes first.”

“Because we want you there.”

“We need you there.”

“But Justin will be there!” I point out.