He had to struggle to hear me, the music was so loud.
“You feel like going outside?” he asked, and the question reminded me of the good times we’d shared, the sweet caresses, the silly laughter. I nodded, and we walked out onto the porch of the huge frat house.
“How are your classes going?” he asked.
To tell the truth, Harvard was insanely difficult, but since all I did was study, I was getting by. “Not bad, and yours?”
“I’m surviving. But I’m not going to lie to you, I feel like a moron here sometimes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll bet you’re really struggling.”
He smiled at me again. I think that smile was what started it all.
He took me back to my dorm after the party, told me how happy he was to see me, and begged me to pick up the phone when he called, and to stop ignoring his messages. He wasn’t going to try anything, he swore—he just wanted to be sure I was all right.
I did as he said, and we started talking again; we even hung out a few more times. First for coffee, then for lunch, eventually for dinner. We went back to being the Taylor and Kami from before, inseparable, and right when I thought our friendship had been renewed, that friendship that had brought us so close, that had defined us—he kissed me.
It was a sweet kiss, bringing all the contradictory feelings to the surface.
I didn’t stop him—because I liked it. I closed my eyes and let myself feel something again, and for a moment, that was enough. What I didn’t expect was what came next.
How his gentleness slipped into something rougher. Hungrier.
We stopped making plans for dinner or coffee. We only hung out to have sex—to fuck—because that’s the only word that describes what we were doing.
It was weird. It was as if we were searching in each other for a kind of forgiveness we didn’t deserve, because the burden of guilt was consuming us. I felt horrible. I felt like I was cheating on Thiago, like I was the worst person in the world. And that destroyed us.
Our sex turned savage, possessive. So possessive that the Taylor and Kami who had fallen in love with each other once before vanished, replaced by something ugly and desperate.
After the fucking came the fights, the accusations, the jealousy.We both wanted something from each other that we’d never be able to give, because there was too much pain inside of us, and we were tired of swimming against the current.
I never forgot Thiago. I never stopped thinking of him—hewas the person I saw when Taylor touched me, the one I thought of when Taylor’s hands squeezed me tight or brought me to orgasm.
We’d started our second year of college by then, not kids anymore, when without even realizing I was doing it, I started to ask the wrong questions. At first, I was subtle:Nothing’s changed, right? No news?Then I got more desperate:Do you think he’ll wake up? Have you gone to see him? How does he look now?
And one day, he screamed, “Drop it!”
That scared me.
“Don’t you realize how much you’re hurting me, Kamila? What the hell are we? Be honest, dammit, because you’re driving me crazy!”
I knew he was right.
He continued, “This has to end. You haven’t gotten over him. You say you love me, but I feel like he’s the one who’s still in your head. And it’s not because you’re worried about his health, it’s because you’re so fucked-up over losing him that you don’t know how to move on with your life. You’re using me to find out about him. Don’t you see how twisted that is?”
“Taylor, I—”
“I’m sorry, Kami, I really am, but I need to stay away from you. I need to forget you if I’m ever going to move on. I love you; do you not understand that?”
“I love you, too,” I said, and I meant it.
“But you’re not in love with me,” he interrupted, emphasizing every word, and I had no idea how to respond. “And I get it now. Finally. I guess I always knew deep down, but when we hookedback up, I thought—I don’t know, I thought we could save each other somehow. I thought we could be happy together, that I could take care of you and make you smile again, but all we’re doing is hurting each other. I don’t like it. I don’t like the person I’ve become. You and I aren’t made to be together, and as much as it hurts, I think it’s time to bring this to an end.”
I cried.
Of course I cried, because Taylor was my drug, he helped soothe my pain, and his pulling away destroyed me. He kept his distance. For months, I knew nothing about him, nothing at all, until… Well, untilithappened.
When I finally went home, it was during the Christmas break of my second year. The year before, I’d spent the holidays in the dorm and enrolled in summer classes, because I couldn’t stand the thought of returning to Carsville. Doing so was as painful as I’d imagined. My brother was getting huge, and he hugged me as soon as he saw me and wouldn’t let me go. My parents were back together, and I made peace with them. They still fought sometimes, but Cameron seemed genuinely happy.
