My first boyfriend didn’t last very long. I enjoyed going to their practice sessions the most, but I was still quiet a lot of the time, and I got startled the first time he kissed me. Before I could figure out how to talk to him about it, I watched him kiss another girl after his next performance.
I met Logan not long after. Logan played the guitar, too, but he was different from that first guy. I’m pretty sure he really liked me. He reassured me about there being no other girls and about going at my pace. He didn’t just talk all the time, but he liked to ask me questions about myself. I talked to him more in those few months we were together than I had even to Neil back when we’d first met.
The first time we’d kissed, he’d asked first, so I didn’t startle away. No, I leaned into it because I liked it so much.
Most weekends I spent with Neil, and I would talk about Logan with him. Neil was the person I still told everything, things I hadn’t yet been able to open up to Logan about, like the years before my foster parents took me in. So, of course, I told him when I was thinking about going all the way with Logan.
Neil had gotten really quiet, but he’d ended up just telling me to be sure first. Only the next day, a Monday, he’d been waiting for me outside of my class. His eyes were red when he grabbed my hand and took me outside to talk. That’s when he told me he loved me.
I’d never thought of him as more than a friend. When he said he knew telling me would ruin our friendship, but that he couldn’t hold it in any longer, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want our friendship ruined. I needed Neil.
Logan had known about Neil, but he’d never acted jealous. It was hard to tell him about Neil’s confession. I cried as I told him over and over that I hadn’t expected it, but that I couldn’t loseNeil. Afterward, he’d kissed my forehead and told me to make the best choice for me.
When I chose Neil, Logan didn’t seem surprised, but he was hurt. He didn’t hang around after. We couldn’t switch to being friends. I had hoped we could, because I’d cared about Logan, but what Neil had said was true. Once romance was involved, you couldn’t stay friends with someone.
I was thinking about Logan while I stared at the sun rising through the living room window that Saturday morning. What would my life have been like if I’d made a different choice?
It probably wouldn’t have mattered. A year later, I’d been taking care of my foster parents full-time, and with that as my only focus, being anyone’s girlfriend would have been hard. Neil had been very understanding because he knew how much my foster parents meant to me.
Neil’s snores reached me on the couch. He snored louder when he drank too much. The snoring wasn’t what had kept me awake. No, my racing thoughts did that all on their own.
My eyes felt puffy from crying. I dragged myself up to start coffee and take a quick shower, in the spare bathroom so I wouldn’t wake Neil.
I was on my second cup of coffee when I heard Neil groan. Shaking out the Tylenol and refilling the water glass from the night before, I made my way to the bedroom.
Neil was sitting up with his head buried in his hands.
“Here, this will help.” I handed him the pills and the glass.
He took them, draining the glass. “I can’t believe I got so drunk last night.”
“Yeah.” I was surprised he hadn’t thrown up, but also grateful I hadn’t had to clean up after him. I almost asked him what had happened again but bit my lip. He’d tell me once he was ready. I reached for the glass instead. “More water or coffee?”
“Both,” Neil said. He pushed up, heading to the bathroom.
He came to the kitchen after showering, reaching for the light-brown coffee. Neil always preferred his with lots of cream and sugar.
I nudged the toast I’d made closer to him, watching him grimace but also lift a piece to nibble.
“Sorry to show up like that on you,” Neil said. “My hookup ended badly, and I needed you. You know you’re my safe place, Hails.” He glanced my way.
“Yeah,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. I’d drunk it black at Jack’s house, but I preferred it with cream but no sugar. “I didn’t like how you acted, though.”
“I was a jerk. When you didn’t answer your phone, I got hurt. Then you weren’t home either. By the time I figured out where you were, I’d already started drinking, and I couldn’t keep my cool.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish you had answered. It would have saved us both some trouble.”
I’d seen the ten missed calls when I’d answered Sean’s text the night before. “I didn’t hear the calls over the music.”
“I can’t believe you’ve gone back to that bar every night,” Neil said with a snort, finishing his coffee. He held out his mug to me.
“I like it there.” I moved over to the coffee carafe to refill it, turning to the fridge to take out the cream.
“If I’d been thinking clearer last night, I would have realized sooner,” Neil said as I nudged the fridge shut. “Going to the same bar would make you more comfortable. I see that now.”
My shoulders hunched at the way he said it, like he was resigned to me being boring. No, I was putting words in his mouth. I finished stirring his coffee, handing it to him before returning the creamer back to the fridge.
“What happened last night?” I asked.
Neil sighed. “I picked the wrong person. Everything was going good, or so I thought, but after we were done, she went off.”
