“Yeah, I guess. But sometimes you’re too nice, Davis.”
I smile without answering and hug the throw pillow to my chest. Agreeable Everly. That’s been my identity since I can remember. Never rocking the boat. It’s clear to me why I lost myself in books ever since I could read. The characters, especially the female ones, were always strong and outspoken and fierce. I always wanted to be more like those girls. Sometimes now I feel like I am like them. I feel bolder than I ever have, and I think a lot of that has to do with Julian. I feel brave and safe around him. Like I can just be me and he’s not going anywhere. The weird thing about people leaving you when you’re young is that even though you’re repeatedly told it’s not you, it feels like it’s you. Like if you’d done something different . . . been different . . . they would’ve stayed. After years of therapy and simply getting older and . . . wiser, I know logically that’s not true. Emotionally, though, that default setting can still fuck with my head.
“Love looks good on you, Ev.” Lilly pulls me out of my head.
“It feels good.” When my response causes her to grimace at me, I add, “Eww, not like that. But . . . well . . . okay, like that.” I giggle and push the pillow to my face.
“I mean, I figured. You can’t have a body like that and suck in bed.” She giggles.
“Right?” I don’t recognize the forward girl talking boldly about sex, but I love her. And I love that I have someone like Lilly I can be that girl with. “And, like, we do it all the time. Like all the time. Do you and Noah?”
“I think we did at first. Maybe. But now . . . I don’t know. Maybe we’re in a rut. Or just busy with school. I don’t know.”
“Hmmm. That’s two I-don’t-knows in the same breath. What’s up, Lill?”
Lilly bursts into tears. “I think we’re breaking up.” She presses the pillow to her face now.
“Oh my God, Lilly. Holy shit, why didn’t you say something? Or tell me to shut the fuck up about Julian and all the sex.”
“No. It’s not like that. I wanna hear about you guys. I’m happy for you. Really! I just . . . I don’t even know how to not be with Noah. It’s been almost five years. Since freshman year of high school.” She sniffs and wipes her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “It started getting weird over the summer when we moved into the apartment. We became more like roommates. Now in college, it’s like we’re best friends or . . . brother and sister.” She shudders on the last part. “We still have a lot to talk about and catch up over lunch at least four times a week. Or dinner if he doesn’t have frat stuff. But the frat is like his new family.” She chokes up again. “I’m happy for him. I want him to have fun. To belong. All the things. I just don’t know where I fit in anymore. Or if I want to.”
“Like you guys outgrew each other?” I offer this softly, wondering.
“Yeah, maybe.” She sniffs loudly. “I’ve never seen Noah so animated as when he’s talking about his BPΩ bros. Especially his new BFF, Seth. Taught him how to surf and now that’s his whole personality.” She’s picking at invisible lint on the pillow now. “I went from being his whole world to the audience of his highlight reel. And the weirdest part is I’m not even sure if I’m sad about Noah or about not knowing who I am without him.”
“Do you like school, living in SLO?” Picturing Lilly alone at school makes my chest feel heavy. It reminds me of when I first came to Blue Lake. How alone I felt.
“Yeah.” With a heavy sigh, she adds, “Yeah, I do.” Lilly hugs the pillow, one knee bent to her chest.
“For real, though? Or like ‘that’s what I’m supposed to say?’” I push, but gently.
“Mostly, yeah. It’s beautiful there, being so close to the beach. But . . .” Her heavy sigh says more than her words ever could. “I miss home. But like more than the place. I miss the feeling. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“No, it does.” I cut her off. I know exactly what she means. It’s more than Blue Lake for me. It’s Julian. It’s Fit. Brew. But mostly it’s the way I feel about myself when I’m here. “I like who I am in Blue Lake. And I’m not trying to make this about me. I just mean . . . this place—which includes you—feels like a part of me now.”
“So, you get it.” She turns her head, resting her cheek on the pillow, and pins me with her watery, milk chocolate stare.
I nod, feeling the pressure build behind my own eyes at seeing my bubbly, confident friend breaking down.
“But I’m not a quitter.” She blinks her eyes a couple times and tosses the pillow off her lap. “C’mon, I need ice cream. Got any?”
***
As the bright blue Bronco backs down the driveway, I lean against the open doorway, waving until Lilly turns onto the highway and disappears. We stayed up all night talking. I worry she’s too tired to drive, but she insists she’ll be fine. She promises to fuel her four-hour drive back to campus with plenty of caffeine. I low-key want to go with her, to be her hype girl while she’s going through theweird shit with Noah, but I’d rather keep her here than go there. One thing that listening to Lilly describe college life did is make me grateful for my online journey. I get to keep my happy safe place and get my degree. It’s clearer to me now what I want to do.
Maybe Blue Lake and Julian have becomemy whole personality, but is that a bad thing if I love it? The way fitness changed my life makes me want to learn more about it and contribute to Fit in a way we don’t yet offer. I want to talk to Allie and Julian about it more, but I’m leaning toward majoring in some kind of exercise psychology. The way fitness plays a key role in dealing with trauma intrigues me. Maybe Ashley can find a way to incorporate that expertise into the McKay Method, offer it to clients as part of the packages—if Julian is into it. Another maybe . . .
Am I still trying to make his life mine? It doesn’t feel that way. I’m truly interested in pursuing this major. Although I’m not exactly sure what that major would be—Sport, Exercise and Performance Psychology (SEPP) perhaps. Mostly I just want to find a way to help build this life we love in a way that feeds my love of learning and passion for peace in the face of trauma. I hope Julian is excited about it like I am. Why are there butterflies swarming in my stomach at the thought of telling him? But Lilly is proof of what the right environment and mental state can do in the face of stress. After two short days at home full of fresh air, exercise and connecting with people who love her, she felt empowered and ready to face her life back at school. This is what I want to contribute to Fit and the McKay Method.
This decision is like a giant exhale. Like I will finally have a light at the end of the college tunnel to focus on and work toward. My love of and passion for writing will always be there, and who knows? MaybeI’ll write a book about the psychology of fitness. The thought puts a glow in my belly where the butterflies used to be. My smile takes over my face as I step back inside and close the door. Combining this new passion with my lifelong one is giving me all the feels. Julian will be home soon, and, with a racing heart, I can’t wait to fill him in. To placate my nerves, I go for a run. I do some of my best thinking while running.
Chapter 18
Julian
As soon as my Jeep leaves the freeway and reaches the meandering highways of home, the weight leaves my body. I roll the windows down. Despite the cooling temperatures, my lungs welcome the air that chills my face. I inhale the smell of home—soil-rich fields, woodsy oaks, and a hint of something ancient and quiet. The rolling golden hills of dry grass and sprawling alligator-skinned oak trees as far as the eye can see embrace me. My anticipation grows the closer I get to Blue Lake and my gray-eyed girl. I’ve missed her so much. Especially since early feedback shows the algorithm favors clips with Ever as much as those of me alone. Proof we’re better together. It’s also true what they say. Sex sells. And she’s sexy as fuck on camera. I’m eager to tell her. Mostly because I’m so proud of her. But I’m nervous how she’ll respond to the growing interest in her. She’s private and still hasn’t reactivated her social media since leaving Oak Valley.
Opening the door, every cell in my body exhales. The faint and steady patter of water hitting tile trickles down the stairs. My girl is in the shower, which immediately sends blood rushing south. I dropmy bags at the door, swing the wood shut behind me, and ascend the stairs two at a time. Steam fogs up the mirror so I can’t see her in the reflection as I approach the open master bathroom door. I stop in the doorway and lean on the jamb, watching her sluice water off her hair, head tilted back in the spray, eyes closed. She must sense me there, because her eyes fly open and pin me with her smoky stare.
