What I’m upset about more than anything else isn’t that Jack wants to leave me—didleave me (or, more accurately, I left him, even though apparently he’s been setting the stage for that for a while). What I’m really mourning is the loss of the white picket fence dream that I fought so hard for.
I left a boy who loved me because I was concerned about our future. And then put stock in another boy who left me anyway. The humiliation burns sharp and hot in my chest, nearly doubling me over. Still, I force myself to close my eyes and take a deep, slow breath of salty air, centering myself in the stillness.
That is, before the logistics questions kick in. I’m here for two weeks, with nowhere to go, nowhere to stay, nothing to do. I’m someone who thrives on planning, and my entire trip was essentially shredded up and tossed to the churning seas, leaving me feeling unmoored. The pain morphs to panic real fast, and I dig my phone out of my hoodie’s pocket, poised to dial Mom. But once I think about the several issues with that—starting with the disappointment and worry she’ll feel when she finds out what happened, and the fact that I lied to her about Jack knowing about this, for starters—I hesitate.
I’m well aware of the inevitable heartbreak that awaits me when I get home, but for now, all I want is to push it to the back of my mind. So instead, I stare blankly at the leaves dancing above my head, willing an answer out of thin air.
And while I don’t quite get one, Idoget the impulse to scroll through my contacts for the name that’s been collecting dust. I glance down at the pizza emoji that’s staring at me, taunting. Unable to stop the blink of surprise at the realization that I really never had the will to delete that stupid pizza icon, even after all this time, never feeling quite brave enough to edit Tyler’s contact at all—a sharp mark of finality closing what, in retrospect, was one of the best chapters of my life thus far.
Not wanting to dwell on it any further, I press the button.
Tyler starts speaking after no more than two rings. “Olive? Missing me already?”
“H-hey.” I suck in a deep breath, hating how shaky and cried-out I sound. “Just figured I’d check in and let you know that I got to campus.”
“Uh, glad to hear it.” His suspicion leaks through the receiver. “Why do you sound weird? Are you okay?” I hear the distant voices of other people in the background and the low gurgles of an infant. He’s already at his brother’s house.
“I’m fine,” I say shakily. “I got here with no problems.”It’s what came after that was the disaster.
To his credit, Tyler doesn’t buy it. He instead waits a beat before speaking again, softer this time. “You gonna tell me what’s going on, or what?”
Unable to bear the weight of my heavy heart alone, I unload everything that happened in the past hour, Tyler listening intently without saying a word. When I finish my story, he takes a few seconds before he speaks, words tight and punctuated.
“Where are you?”
I look up at the leafy tree and my surroundings. “Still on campus. I’m sitting under a tree near his dorm building.”
“I’ll come get you.” His answer is immediate, and I hear shuffling as he presumably gets up.
“Tyler, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to,” he says, voice stronger this time, rumbling with an intensity I haven’t heard before. “I want to. This asshole stomps on your heart and emotionally cheats on you and leaves you hanging out to dry, all alone—”
Emotionally cheating?I didn’t even consider that a thing before now. Is that what Jack did to me? “He didn’t kick me out—he said I could stay there if I needed somewhere to go.”
Tyler laughs without humor. “How generous. Breaks your heart and still offers for you to sleep in his bed.”
“That’s not what he meant.” My voice is hot, surprising even myself. Jack may be a monumental asshole for what he did—no, heisa monumental asshole for what he did—but a small part of my heart still defends him, not yet coming to terms with the loss of the future I’d so carefully planned out.
“Anyway,” Tyler’s voice cuts through, filled with frustration. But no matter how angry he is, I know it’s not directed at me, but in defenseofme. “Regardless, I’m picking you up. Can you sit tight for another twenty minutes or so?”
“I can.” My eyes scan the campus, looking for signs or a map post somewhere to orient myself. “Do you need me to wait for you at the main entrance?”
The jingling of keys comes in over the phone. “No, stay where you are. I’ll come find you.”
“You’ve never been on the campus before. How do you even know where I am?”
Some of the sharp anger in his voice dissipates, and he sighs. “It’s you, Olive. I’ll be there.” He ends the call before I have achance to question him.It’s you, Olive.What is that even supposed to mean?
I scoot down further until my head is resting in the soft grass at the base of the tree trunk and look into the leaves, making myself comfortable. The stress of the crying, the broken sleep on the plane, and my heavy heart all blend together into a sudden and irresistible sleepiness—so, lured into calm by the warm ocean air and the gentle hush of tropical birds chirping in the tree above me, I let myself sleep.
It feels like I’ve only dozed off for a few seconds when the crunching of gravel snaps me out of a hazy dream filled with airplane bathrooms and pink socks. But when I open my eyes and sit up dizzily, there is Tyler, hopping out of a cherry-red Jeep and coming around to lean against the passenger door with his arms crossed. Even though he tries to look serious, a smile still fights its way onto his face.
“So, this is where you plan to stay for the whole trip, huh? Sleeping under this tree?”
I rub my bleary eyes and yawn. “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. It’s the best ten-second nap I’ve ever had.”
He chuckles at this. “Way more than ten seconds. I’ve been trying to reach you for the last fifteen minutes.”
