I’m so unbelievably broken-hearted for Colson, but I’m also scaling a mountain of my own.
I’ve called his cell every morning, and it’s the last thing I do before I close my eyes at the end of the day. My phone stopped giving me the option to leave a voicemail two nights ago. The automated voice that tells me his inbox is full is like a fist around my heart, squeezing tight enough to convince me not to call again.
I shouldn’t, considering we’re no longer a couple, but I can’t help myself.
It only makes it seem as if what we had was nothing. In some moments, I want to hate him for it, but I realize that’s the selfish, desperate part of me talking. I know I’m only feeling this way forone reason, though I’m not sure I have the right to with what he’s going through. His grief blows mine out of the water.
I pull my jacket tighter around my torso and wait for Sebastian near the Mathematics and Statistics building. We’ve been in lectures all day but happen to have the same forty-five minute break in the afternoon. He agreed to meet up with me and brief me on what went down when he saw Colson this morning.
I know he’s hiding away at the house in Harrison Heights because Sebastian crossed the river in search of the one place he was pretty sure he’d be the other day.
My friend pushes out of the building with his backpack hanging off one shoulder and held close to his chest. There’s a piece of paper in his mouth that he shoves inside of it once he gets a zipper open. He spots me and smiles. I give him the best one I can muster back.
He jogs down the set of steps and pulls me into a hug. They’re no longer as quick as they used to be. Like when we were at Fletcher’s party and he pulled back quickly with a lovable smile spread across his handsome face and a teasing tone in his voice.
He watched me falter at the hospital then break down when Colson left. He and Everleigh have talked more sense into me these last few days than ever. It’s reassuring to have them there, especially when there was a lot more distance between us all at the start of the semester.
“It’s like a fucking freezer out here,” he complains, referring to the way the cold has snuck up on us. “Have you been waiting long?”
I shiver against Georgia’s cooler winter temps. “No, actually. I had to walk over from the Education building and just got here.”
He pulls away and leans down into my line of sight to get a better look at my face. “You doing okay today?”
I lift my hand, motioning so-so as I step back, then start in the direction of the coffee spot on campus we agreed on earlier this morning. “Yes and no.”
The quad is just as busy as it is any other morning. At this time of year, students chat amongst themselves while lingering by park benches rather than the grassy areas. We skirt around an artistic bunch who have their easels out and paints scattered across the large wooden slats of the bench like it's a worktable. A guy’s shout ricochets off the thick tree trunks, pulling my gaze up from the pavement as we walk.
“You want to elaborate on that?”
I shrug a shoulder, trying to make it seem like it isn’t all that big of a deal, but we both know better. “I miss him, Sebastian. So much that it feels like it’s slowly killing me.”
“I know, Vi. It fucking sucks. I hate seeing him like this and knowing that he has pulled away so much in such a short amount of time. It’s like he’s back to the same angry kid he was when we were teenagers.”
As I listen to him, my gaze catches on a familiar head of blonde hair swishing in the breeze farther up the quad. I settle on the broad shoulders of Fletcher and Nelson on either side of the girl whose hair has a mind of its own. Even from behind, it’s not hard to point out two of the most popular football players at Chatham U. Since Sylvia has been spending a lot of time with them, I’ve noticed them around more than usual.
I squint, bothered that, even from afar, she looks as if she’s pushing herself too hard. Like she’s not sleeping enough and running her body into the ground. And not from studying, no, but from partying and keeping up with the football team. And then I see another familiar face.
“Is that Tristan?” I ask Sebastian, interrupting our conversation about Colson.
“Huh?”
I point to where Sylvia and the guys stand on a grassy patch underneath a tree. One of the guys launches a football above his head, sending it into the perfect spiral before it falls back into his hands. “Over there. Sylvia is with them.”
“Oh, yeah. Look at that,” he remarks, taking in the scene around them before verifying what my eyes see. “Yeah, I guess that is him. He’s always been big on hanging out with the football guys. You know that.”
“Yeah, but since when are those guys Fletcher and Nelson?”
Sebastian scratches the back of his neck as a student whizzes past on a skateboard. “Honestly, Everleigh breaking up with him is kinda hitting him hard. Whenever I try to get the guys together as of late, he’s too busy or doesn’t answer my texts. Webber can even tell you he’s being kind of douchey.”
“She had every right to end things with him,” I mutter under my breath.
Sebastian’s hand smooths over my elbow. “Vi, you don’t need to convince me how messed up he treated her. Only a dumbass would look at her and turn the other direction. I don’t know what's been going through his head lately but if that’s what he wants to do with his time…if that’s whatthey,” he reiterates, including Sylvia, “want to do, then we have to let them. Sometimes you have to let go even when you don’t want to.”
I take one last look at them and realize that I don’t have it in me to deal with that, anyhow. Sebastian is right. They should do whatever makes them happy, and I’m going to do the same, which is why I turn back to him and ask, “Tell me how he was when you saw him this morning?”
“Mostly the same as every other morning I’ve been there,” he offers, but I hear the reluctance in his tone.
“Did he say anything?”
