Finding Our Course (Finding our Way 3)

Three weeks to the day after graduation, I drove away from Nashville with a new outlook on life. My heart was broken, but for the first time, I was focused only on me. There was no longer the possibility of a Devon and Bryce, and I vowed to never be a lovesick fool again. Young love or not, it hurt like hell.

“Hello! Earth to Devon?” Quinn waves her hand in front of my face, bringing me out of my trance. “Where’d you go?”

“I was just thinking about us moving here.”

“Best decision we ever made.”

“I think so, too.”

“Our paper is due next week for World Journalism. Do you want to head to D.C. this weekend and see if we can catch a protest or something?”

“Yes, actually, that sounds great. I’ll bring the camera.”

“I hate it that you’re a double threat. Besides journalism, your photography skills will get you into the Master’s of Fine Arts Program with no problems.”

“We’ll get in together, just like we do everything else.”

When we get to the building, we head to our separate lectures. The small group I always sit with saved me a seat, and I smile as I greet everyone. It’s a running joke among my peers that Quinn and I are the babies. Since we both graduated with AP credits and came straight to summer school, we’ve always been the youngest in our classes. Technically, we’re both juniors.

My pocket vibrates with an incoming message, and I almost drop it when I see who it’s from.

Bryce’s name appears with a single sentence: We need to talk.

Staring at the screen, it seems like a good idea to ignore him. But in the back of my head, I think about my ‘Getting over Bryce Randolph’ program and the steps involved. I created this personal program the first summer at UVA. It was three weeks after moving here, and Quinn finally convinced me to get my head out of my ass. We started meeting new people. Then I gradually started dating. We both made the cheerleading team, which helped keep our social lives busy.

I still thought about Bryce all the time, but it was becoming less and less painful. Unfortunately, no other guy caught my attention either. But that was okay. I’d enjoyed the new friends and my college experiences so far.

Seven weeks after I left home, my mom called and broke the news that Holli had lost the baby at thirteen weeks. All of the Randolph family, including Bryce, was devastated. I sent a sympathy card to everyone, and even included a separate note to Holli. I learned she was staying at Bryce’s parents’ house for a week to recover.

Bryce sent me a very nice text thanking me for my kindness, and I didn’t hear from him for months. It was easy to avoid going home the entire semester since it was football season. My parents and Nate flew in for a few of the games, and we spent the weekends in Virginia. When I learned he and Holli planned on spending the entire holiday season in Nashville, I begged my mom to plan a family trip away. It had been seven months since I’d seen him, but I still wasn’t ready.

My parents thought it was a great idea, and so we started the tradition of going to a ski town to celebrate together. With creative planning and the help of my mom and Quinn, I have successfully been able to avoid any situations that would require being around the Randolph family and Holli. In the last year and a half, I’ve been home a total of fifteen days and stayed incognito. Sheila and Dave, Bryce’s parents, noticed my absence, but my parents are brilliant at covering for me. Yes, even my dad knows the truth about my devastating crush on Bryce.

Nate never mentions Holli, which I’m thankful for. I prefer not to hear about her at all. Bryce has contacted me a few times via text, email, and even a few voice messages. Instead of calling back, I always reply with the same answer.

‘Hey, Bryce! Nice to hear from you. Hope you are well. Things are great with me. Super busy. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!’

This always seemed safe since it acknowledged his message, confirmed I was okay, and mentioned I was busy.

So, today’s message, ‘We need to talk,’ catches me off guard. What do we need to talk about? Curiosity gets the best of me, and I type a reply.

Me: Why? Is everything okay?

Bryce: We need to talk.

Me: IS NATE OKAY????????

Fear washes over me for a brief second, but my parents would have called if there was a problem.

Bryce: Nate is fine. You’ve been dodging my ass forever. Now I hear you aren’t coming home for Christmas—again. So, as I said, we need to talk.

My mind goes into defense mode, and I need to shut this down. He doesn’t get to decide when we talk. What is there to say? We were friends, and I’ve been a shitty friend, but he has a fiancée. What the hell does he need with me? He broke my heart. I don’t owe him an explanation, and vice versa.

Me: I haven’t been dodging you at all. It’s nice to hear from you. I hope you are doing well. I’m still super busy. As a matter of fact, I’m sitting in class now. Yep, going out of town for family trip over the holidays. Maybe we can catch up soon. Thanks for checking in!

Bryce: GODDAMMIT, Devon! Cut the bullshit. Either you call me or else. I mean it. I’ve put up with this for too long. You have to let me explain.

Silence