For her. For us. And our future.
Hours later, the class ends. All of us numb from the lessons on facial expressions and how to achieve them. According to Karen, we will be seeing her five days a week for the foreseeable future. Once she determines we are worthy of “graduating,” she will pass such information to the appropriate people.
In other words, it may be weeks or months before I model. Weeks or months before I take a decent photo. Weeks or months before I earn a penny.
On the upside, the modeling agency pays for the classes. Only because we are “assets.” Calling me an asset is objectifying, but I suck it up. Modeling is just temporary. A stepping stone to get me where I need to be.
As I leave for the day, Layla stops me. “Hey, Gavin. You want to grab something to eat? I could eat a cow after today.” She laughs and it sounds forced. Awkward. Exaggerated.
All I want is to go home and crash. But it would be nice to know someone else in this boat. Someone I can talk to when I have a rough day. A friend. “Yeah, sure.”
The moment I agree, a rock plummets in my gut. It sinks and settles deep. Nausea threatens and I shove it down. Layla is a nice person—at least that is what I continually tell myself. Our relationship will only consist of friendship. Nothing more.
No one will ever take Cora’s place. No one.
Sixteen
Gavin
Present
The server walks away and I wonder what the hell I just ordered. Some mock version of pulled “pork.” Except this place serves no meat. Cora assures me it was a good choice, but I will be the judge.
Cora picks up her water and sips it while staring out the window. Her fingers twist and roll the paper straw while her eyes narrow slightly then go back to their normal shape. Occasionally, she bites the inside of her cheek. Beneath the table, her leg bounces and ghosts against mine every other breath.
Does she feel it each time her skin grazes mine? She is so lost in her thoughts, I doubt it. But I do. Every. Single. Time.
“Cora.”
Her eyes dart from the window to mine as she snaps out of her fog. “Huh?”
“Why are you so nervous?”
She rolls her eyes and it is fucking adorable. “Don’t be silly, Gavin. I’m not nervous.” Her leg bounces faster.
I tilt my head and study her a minute. “You know you can’t fool me. So why try?”
Cora huffs and sets her water down. A second later, she tucks her hands under her thighs. We sit in silence a moment, staring at each other. Holding her gaze has never been uncomfortable, whether for five seconds or five minutes.
And then I remember the reason why we are sitting together right now. The reason she’s giving me a chance. Because she is waiting to hear my truth. A truth I swore to tell her. That I plan to tell her. I only hope she listens. Truly listens and digests what I say.
“I’m sorry,” I say. An apology is the best place to start. Unfortunately, I have far too much to apologize for.
Her leg finally stops bouncing. “Sorry? And what exactly are you sorry for?” Her question slaps me in the face. A slap I more than deserve. A slap I will take like a man.
I reach under the table and rest a hand on her knee. The simple and innocent touch soothes my nervousness and helps me focus. “Where do I begin?” I pause a moment to gather my thoughts. She needs to know everything, but I don’t want to bounce from one end to the other and back again.
My question was meant to be rhetorical, but she answers. “How about the beginning. I find that to always be the best place.”
Cora’s snappy demeanor has me on the cusp of smiling. On the verge of teasing and light sarcasm. But the last thing I need is to piss her off more, so I resist the urge and trudge forward.
“I’m sorry I stopped answering your calls and texts. Sorry I didn’t return a single one of them. My parents had thrown every hope I had of getting back to you out the window. So, I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go. By giving you a chance to move on without me. To have a life and smile and maybe find love again.”
A glutton for punishment, I refuse to look away from her. Refuse to not see every emotion she feels as my words set in. As I share the reason why I abandoned her year
s ago. Even as her eyes brim red and well in the corners. Even as her brow furrows and lips purse. She breaks eye contact and shifts her gaze to the street, not looking at anything specific. She just has difficulty looking at me. A tear rolls down her cheek and she swipes it away with the back of her hand. Her chin quivers as she clamps her lips between her teeth.
I walked into this knowing sour memories would be rehashed. That me spilling my truth, telling her where my head was at, would be hard to hear. But fuck, it hurts to watch her break down in front of me. To see her fighting off emotions as we sit in public and talk about the most painful parts of our past.