I want to ask what fucking asshole ever could have walked away from her, but I can’t. Because … I did, too.
I didfirst.
I’m that asshole.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say quietly, and my mom pats my knee again.
“She’s doing much better these days,” she assures me, then brightens. “She works at the library with Piper now. It’s how they’ve become such good friends.”
“Is that right?”
She nods again.
Good to know.
Good. To. Know.
5
Steph
Then
“Hey,you’vereachedRiley!Leave me a message, and I’ll call you back. Probably. Ha!”
Beeeep.
“It’s me. Again. Why won’t you pick up your phone? Or call me back?! I just— I don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like … I feel you pulling away. Did I do something wrong?” I hate how my voice breaks on that last part. Clearing my throat, I continue with my most recent of a multitude of messages. “I thought you were coming home this weekend. Even your mom said so when I saw her at the store. Please, Riles. Just call me. I need to know what’s going on.Please.”
Click.
I sigh and fling myself on my bed, fighting the tears that have become all too familiar lately. When Riley moved away for college at the end of the summer, we swore we’d talk all the time. He promised he’d be home as many weekends as he could manage between his game schedule, and at first, he’d managed it okay. September and into October, things seemed to be going well. I could tell he was stressed, and maybe a little disappointed. He wasn’t getting much playing time on the court and felt overlooked by his coaches. But he was determined, hopeful that with time, things would improve. He made it home three times in the fall before they started playing exhibition games.
November, though … was rough. The basketball season officially started, and he was exhausted every time we spoke. He’d give me vague accounts of his day, then fall asleep listening to me prattle on about mine. He continued to become more disheartened by his performance at practice and his coaches’ complete disregard for him on game days. Despite seemingly being prepared for the higher stakes and competitiveness of college basketball, he wasn’t used to riding the bench. Even as a freshman in high school, Riley had gotten significant playing time.
Reading between the lines, it seemed like he was struggling with his classes a bit, too. Riley’s a smart guy, but he’s never been a straight-A student. That’s how we met, after all. What other reason would one of the most gorgeous, most charming, and popular guys in school—captain of the basketball team, no less—have to interact with me? Shy Stephanie Miller. Oh sure, I have friends. I’m not a weird loner, or anything, but before I was asked to tutor him, I was a lot nearer the bottom of the Llyn Lakes high social hierarchy.
Things have changed, somewhat, in the two years we’ve been together, though. I’m still Riley Walker’s ‘quiet’ girlfriend, but … people know me now, and maybe even respect me. Ugh, that’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I needed to be on a popular guy’s arm to gain any respect? Never mind that I’m an excellent student and participate in multiple extracurricular activities. But I guess the Earth Warriors and the political science club don’t garner attention like sports and cheerleading do.
And, well, athletic I amnot.
So, yeah. I needed to be linked to a popular boy to elevate my social status. Though I guess that says more about the world we live in than about me. I mean, it’s not why I’m with him, or anything. Sure, it’s been a nice little bonus, but honestly? Having his attention, his affection? There’s nothing better. That day in the library when I realized Riley Walker was looking at me the same way I looked at him? Well, it was— It was shocking, is what it was.Unbelievable.But, also, like, a jolt of confidence. OneI desperately needed. Being with Riley has given me strength and the courage to be myself unapologetically. I even kind of like myself, most of the time. Becausehelikes me.
Or he did.
I don’t really know anymore.
He says he loves me.Said. But he said a lot of things before he left.
I haven’t heard the L-word from him in a long time. Haven’t heard much from him at all.
Christmas rolled around, and he was only home for three days. Three! School was closed for two whole weeks, and I’d been so looking forward to seeing him. I thought, if we could spend some uninterrupted time alone, I might finally be able to get him to talk to me. We could reconnect—not just emotionally, but physically, too. I missed him. I missed his arms around me, comforting me. Loving me. But instead, he chose to stay back in the dorms right up until Christmas Eve, then left only a few days later.
I spent New Year’s alone watching movies in my basement. He said it was because he needed to play catch-up for some of his classes, but that didn’t make much sense because he was starting a new semester in January. He said some of the guys were going to be back early after the holidays to put in extra time in the gym, and he didn’t want to miss out, get left behind … and I guess I could understand that. But it hurt.A lot. He was pulling away, and I didn’t know what to do aboutit.
So now, here we are in February, and I’m begging him for a response. An email, a callback.Anything. I’m begging him for scraps of what he used to give me so freely. I’m desperate for his attention, and it feels like he barely even gives me a second thought anymore.
I feel pathetic leaving all of these messages for my absentee boyfriend.
