“Stop,” I repeated. “Just stop.”
“I can’t. You know I love you. I love you so much, and I just … I miss you.”
“You were right,” I blurted out.
“What?”
“You were right,” I repeated. “This long distance isn’t working.”
Cole sucked in a sharp breath.
“It’s not. You wouldn’t have said it last night if you didn’t think so. You’re in San Francisco, working your ass off to get ahead. I’m still … here.” My voice cracked on the last word. “I’m still here.”
“Wait, Lila, please.”
“You know it’s true,” I insisted. “It’s tearing us apart.”
He huffed. “It’s hard,” he admitted softly. “It’s really fucking hard. I miss you every fucking day.”
“Me too,” I said, tears coming to my eyes again. I couldn’t even believe I still had some left. “So much. But when does it end?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither. I graduate in May. There’s PT school, and I’m working on getting certified in athletic training.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how it would work. I’ll still be here, and you’ll still be there. When are we ever going to be in the same place again?”
“I don’t know.”
Neither of us did. He’d gone off to follow his dreams, and I was planning to follow mine as well. Our dreams just didn’t cross.
“So, you were right.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I hate this.”
“I know.”
“This doesn’t work … not right now.”
“But someday?” I offered.
“Someday, Lila.”
I clutched the phone to my chest as I said good-bye to my college love. Free of both Ash and Cole for the first time in my life, I had no idea where I was headed. Right now, I wasn’t ready to find out. But one day … someday.
18
Athens
May 10, 2011
Everyone I knew and loved was in Athens for my graduation … except the two people I was missing the most.
Cole and Ash.
It felt ridiculous to miss them, but I couldn’t seem to help it
My friends had said that it would pass. That I’d stop thinking about them when I met some hot stranger who flipped my world. But seven months later, I hadn’t met anyone who made me want to flip anything.
Maybe it would all change next week when I moved to Atlanta with Josie.
“I’m not nervous,” Josie insisted.
Marley shot her an incredulous look. “You’re bouncing around like a fucking bunny.”
“Whatever.” Josie stopped moving and gnawed on her nails.
I slapped her hand as we waited in line at the arch for pictures. “Stop it. It’s all going to work out.”
She dropped her hand and wrinkled her nose at me. “We have no way of knowing that. The likelihood that the pilot will be picked up is zilch. And I was just a fluke anyway.”
Marley and I looked at each other. A look that said everything. This was completely normal neurotic behavior from our best friend. And she had every reason to be freaking out right now.
While I’d been making poor life choices on Halloween weekend, Josie had been premiering her first independent film at the film festival. The film didn’t go over well, but afterward, she bummed a cigarette off of some strangers in an alley, who happened to be a director and producer. Everything happened for her in that moment. They offered her an audition for a new CW-esque drama they were working on. They needed a lead for a pilot to pitch to the studio. She thought it was a joke.
All through the audition, when she got the leading role, even when she filmed the pilot in Atlanta, traveling back and forth from Savannah so she could still graduate since this was far from a sure thing, one big joke. Except it hadn’t been a joke, and now, we were here. The pilot was being assessed by the studio today. She’d finally have her answer if this whole thing was anything at all.
“Honey, stop worrying about it,” my mom said as we reached the front of the line. “It’ll happen, or it won’t. Worrying won’t fix it.”
“Thanks, Deb,” Josie said, beaming.
“Your turn!” Steph cried.
I darted up to the arch on North Campus. It was the symbol of the university and the first official time that I’d be allowed to walk through it. My sisters had all graduated from UGA and cheered for me as I made the first walk through. We stood around for pictures, taking one with each of them, and then foisting the camera off to a stranger to get one of all us girls.
“Thanks!” I said, taking the camera back and scanning through the photos. “This is perfect.”
“My baby all grown up,” my mom said.
“I can’t believe it’s graduation,” I said.
“You’re going to do amazing things.”
I smiled at my mom as we all fell into step on our way to Sanford Stadium for spring graduation. I was already in my gown, holding my cap under my arm and following the stream of people.