She looks up at me, brows raised. “Huh?”
“You look like you want to say something but you’re holding back.”
“I…no. It’s…nothing.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I think we’ve gotten to the point in our friendship that you can pretty much tell me what you need to say. What is it?”
She sets down the knife and looks at me. “If you really want to work in Hawaii, great. I’m happy for you, truly. But are you just running away from the real problem?”
“Is that even a question?” I say sarcastically. “Of course I’m running away from the real problem. I want to get away from Claire.”
“Can you honestly say that you’ve given it everything you have?”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
“Have you ever said the words, ‘Claire, I’m in love with you. Don’t marry Zach’?”
“Well, no, but?—”
“Then how can you give up so easily?”
“I’m not giving up!” I feel bad for raising my voice at her, so I tone it down and let out a breath. “I tried. I was constantly there for her, better than Zach ever was and ever will be. She knows how I feel about her.”
“Does she?” Pam shakes her head. “You might think you’re being obvious, but until you say the words to her face, she doesn’tknow. She might hope and wish they’re true, but she’ll talk herself out of it every which way.” She looks at Aaron, exasperated. “Why don’t people just say what they feel?”
“I don’t know, babe,” he replies. “You know I don’t have that problem.”
“Well, that’s true,” she says. She picks up her knife and points it at me with a mock intense stare. “Tell Claire how you feel.”
I hold up my hands and back away from the kitchen. “I’ll think about it. Just don’t hurt me.”
She grins as I walk away, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call my mom. At least I’ll get an excited reaction out of her.
Mom answers after the first ring. “Ryan! How nice of you to call me for once!”
I laugh. “Hey, Mom.”
“I guess you love me, after all.”
“You know I do. Hey, I have some news.”
“Oh?”
I grin, excited for her reaction. “I applied for a job at Haleakala Community College. And I just found out I got an interview! I’ll be there in a couple of weeks.”
I’m met with silence.
No squeals of excitement or cheering. Just…nothing.
“Mom? Are you there?”
“Why are you doing this?” she finally asks.
“What…what do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. Why are you doing this?”
I pause, unsure how to formulate my words. “I thought you’d be excited.”
