That’show I ended up dating the star quarterback. Nolan and I had been friends sincechildhood, but in junior high, he’d gone his way and I had gone mine. Untileleventh grade, when Fate had partnered us for pig dissection. What had startedas a familiar friendship quickly turned into something so serious I was stillrecovering from it.
Andthe worst part? Worse than falling in love with someone who lied to me, led meon, promised to marry me and did all that he could to trap me in that stupidtown? I ended up accepting everything I didn’t want or like—high schoolpolitics with popular best friends and small-town dreams.
Iwas willing to give up everything for him. My parents saw Nolan’s power over meand jumped on the opportunity to trap me.
Theybribed me with a sweet car to encourage me to go to school consistently. Homeworkwas easy for me, so the good grades followed. They turned a blind eye to thepartying because that’s what all the kids in town did. My parents carefullyencouraged when Nolan started talking about the future and what life could belike for us once we’d graduated. They dropped helpful suggestions about wherewe could live and how quickly we could marry.
Nolanwasn’t the life I wanted, but I was in too deep to remember that. I loved himmore than I had ever loved anything. And with our parents’ support, I slowlyforgot my dream of leaving Hamilton and making something of myself. I forgotabout doing bigger and better things than playing house.
Heloved me too after all. And he didn’t want to leave Hamilton anymore. He likedit there. Plus, if we were going to get married so young, we should stick byour parents’ because they could help us if we ever needed it. And what about kids?Didn’t I want to raise them in a town I trusted and make sure they had the sameidyllic childhood I did?
Hisargument tasted sweet and safe and it was embarrassing how easily I gave in.
Ofcourse, I would stay. Of course, I would marry him. Of course, my plans couldevolve now that I had him.
Everythingchanged the spring of my senior year. I had signed up for a semester of fluff,so I could skate through to graduation. One of the classes was a cooking class.My teacher, Mrs. Wilton, wasn’t the most inspiring mentor ever, but she didn’tneed to be. All she needed to do was give me sharp knives and the opportunityto find myself in food.
AndI did find myself. In the best way.
Iignored all my local college acceptance letters where Nolan had also beenaccepted and secretly applied to culinary schools. When I get the letter fromthe culinary arts program at The Art Institute at Raleigh-Durham, I cried tearsof real joy for the first time in my life.
Notonly was it one of the best programs in North Carolina, it took me far awayfrom Hamilton and the life I’d been willing to settle for.
Ikept the news a secret until after graduation, but even when I told Nolan andmy family the change of plans, I made it seem like the AI was only a detourfrom the original plan. Not a total deviation in the trajectory of my future.
Atthe time, it was what I believed too. I hadn’t planned to leave Nolan. I hadn’tplanned to abandon the plans we made for our future. And yet when it came downto it, I couldn’t make myself go through with community college. I couldn’t stomachthe idea of living there a second longer, even if we were saving up for a placeof our own.
Culinaryschool had been less of a carefully crafted alternative and more of a panicked,wild-eyed desperate last-ditch effort to save my soul. It sounded dramatic now,but that town had crushed my spirit. I couldn’t breathe there. I couldn’t be me.And I knew that if I stayed, I would never be happy either.
Myparents were pissed of course. They couldn’t understand what I would do with aculinary degree in Hamilton. To this day, they were still waiting for me toregain my senses and come home. Every time I called them, they tried to lure mein with local drama and reminders that Nolan still hadn’t found anyone tosettle down with.
Igently reminded them that I had landed my dream job and I was still able to payrent on time, but I’d call them the following Sunday and we could do the songand dance all over again. We hadn’t ended a conversation pleasantly in years.
Mostly,it was my mother. She blamed me for ruining her life, for letting go of Nolan,for screwing everything up like I was so prone to do. My dad was disappointedhe couldn’t see me whenever he wanted, but he didn’t try to emotionallyblackmail me to move home.
Andthen there was Nolan.
Foras young as we were, our love was real. We stayed together for way longer thanwe should have. Seven years of my life had been spent holding onto somethingneither of us was brave enough to let go of. We fought all the time. He keptpromising to follow me to Durham. And I kept believing him. It was only amatter of time before we self-destructed.
Atfirst, he would visit me on weekends and we would look for apartments we bothliked and Google jobs he would enjoy. As the years piled up, he stopped visitingas much and I stopped expecting anything from him. Eventually all the reasonswe should be together stopped making sense. We wanted different things out oflife. We’d grown into new people that didn’t have anything in common. We saidwe still loved each other, but if it was love it was selfish and entitled.Neither of us had been willing to compromise. Neither of us had really wantedto change—no matter how many empty promises we made.
Sevenyears. Seven years with a man that couldn’t follow through on anything. Fromwhen I was seventeen until I finally let go three years ago at twenty-four, healways had an excuse for why he couldn’t transfer schools or quit his job atthe high school or move in with me. Seven years of phone calls full of awkwardsilences and disappointed weekends when he would cancel our plans. Seven yearsof making the arduous back and forth, trying to make a long-distancerelationship work between two people totally unwilling to try.
Heeven proposed. Right after he’d graduated with his teaching degree and acceptedhis position at Hamilton High School, he showed up on my doorstep with a blacksquare box and a tiny diamond. “I love you, Kaya.” He promised. “I want to doright by you.”
Mypoor, frustrated, neglected heart had soared. We were finally going to have thelife we’d been dreaming about for so long. I was finally going to be able togive up Hamilton for good and settle into my Durham life. I was finally goingto get to be full-time with the man I loved.
Onlyhis plans had changed. He’d rearranged our future but didn’t tell me untilafter I’d said yes to marrying him. He’d decided he no longer wanted to move toDurham by then. He’d bought a little house on the outskirts of town and lovedhis new job.
Iknew I could never move back. No matter how quaint he promised our life wouldbe. There wasn’t anything in that town for me. And yet still, I hadn’t beenwilling to give him up. Stupidly, I thought that if he loved me enough, I couldchange his mind. Eventually, he would realize I was worth the move.
Asour engagement dragged on and on without a wedding date to plan for or any realmotivation by either of us to get married, I too-slowly realized we were over.I finally acknowledged we had been over for a very long time.
Itkilled me. I had poured years into that man. I had truly believed I would spendthe rest of my life with him. And I knew he felt the same way about me.Admitting that everything had been for nothing did something irreversible to myheart, added layers of paranoia and skepticism that scarred me. His lack ofmotivation to be with me felt like rejection in the worst way. Why wasn’t Ienough for him? Why didn’t he want to be with me more than he wanted to becomfortable in that godforsaken town?
Bythe end of our relationship, I felt brittle, hollowed out, and empty. I knew itwasn’t entirely Nolan’s fault. I hadn’t been willing to change. I hadn’t beenopen to moving. But that didn’t stop the insecurity from slipping inside likean evil ninja and setting up residence in my heart. I wasn’t the kind of girlmen moved for. I wasn’t the woman that men wanted to spend their life with. Iwas safe and comfortable and throw away.
Ibroke up with him over Christmas when I was home and staying with my parents. Ithadn’t been messy. He said he’d known it was coming for a while, but he didn’twant to be the one to hurt my feelings.
