Getting Over Garrett Delaney(64)
Author: Abby McDonald

But it can’t be. And more than that, I don’t want it to. Not if “the same” means waiting around for him, having him treat me like the girl I used to be instead of the person I am today.

I feel a rush of calm, cool and easy in my veins. “You know what? I’m beat,” I tell him. “Can you just take me home?”

Garrett’s face falls. “But, are you sure . . . ?”

“Another time, maybe.” I try to smile. “It’s been a long week.”

“There was something I wanted to say,” he begins. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured saying it, but —”

“Can it wait?” I ask, turning to head back to the parking lot, but before I even have time to think, he closes the distance between us, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me.

27

This can’t be happening.

I stay frozen in place, his lips on mine, trying to make sense of the impossibility. Garrett moves a hand to my waist and pulls me closer against him. Dazed and reeling, I go. His lips are soft on mine, his skin faintly rough and unfamiliar against my cheek, and for one blissful moment, I sink into it.

Everything I’ve been waiting for — all those sleepless nights imagining this very moment — has come to this. Now. Here.

The kiss deepens, slow and sweet. I barely move. I barely even breathe. This is Garrett, I tell myself, giddy. This is Garrett, kissing me. My heart swells with triumph.

I finally made him love me.

At last, Garrett pulls away. “Hey,” he whispers, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He smiles down at me. “I’ve been waiting forever to do that.”

“What . . . ?” I’m dizzy, clutching the front of his shirt for balance. “I mean . . . Why?” Garrett’s still smiling at me, that special smile I’ve longed for for two entire years. The one that says, “You’re the only girl in the world.” The one I’ve seen given to Beth, to Julie, to a parade of other girls, but never to me.

Until now.

“Don’t you know?” He pushes his hair back in a nervous gesture, almost bashful. “I love you, Sadie. I think I always have,” he adds earnestly. “But I was just too stupid to see it. I didn’t realize . . .”

Love. He said he loved me. I stare at him in amazement. But for some reason, the words dance just out of reach, like a language I can’t quite understand.

What does that word even mean to him?

“What?” I ask again, stronger this time. “What didn’t you realize?”

“Well, how great you are.” Garrett laughs. “And how great we could be together.” He traces my lips with his fingertip, then kisses me again. We’re closer than we’ve ever been before, so close I can feel his breath, taste the faint bitterness of coffee from his mouth. But for some reason, Garrett suddenly feels like a stranger to me, a foreign body pressed against mine.

I stay frozen in place on the sidewalk, aware of everything around me. Farther up the street, a group of people emerge from a bar, laughing; couples wait in line outside an Italian restaurant; a boy with scruffy long hair plays guitar on the corner, the faint strains of Jeff Buckley drifting down to us. And Garrett, here against me, but feeling farther away than any of them.

I pull away, that first blissful swoon I felt dissolving now, leaving something else — something cooler, more solid — in its place. A simple question. “What happened with Rhiannon?” I ask softly.

Garrett frowns. “What do you mean?”

“What went wrong?” I take another step back, watching him carefully. The haze is clearing; I can see things for what they are now. “It was only a couple of weeks ago that you were in love with her. You said she was the one. And now, you love me?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not like that. I mean, yes, we were together,” he says, stumbling. “But when she ended things, it made me see what had been right in front of me all along!”

I exhale, disappointment washing over me. “She broke up with you.” In the two years that I’ve known him, Garrett is almost never the dumpee. He’s always the one in control.

Garrett flushes guiltily. “No. I mean, yes, she did, but then I realized, you know — what we have. How special it is. You never let me down, Sadie; you’re always there.” He takes my hands in his, full of emotion. “Don’t you see? We’re meant to be together!”

I stare back at him, his words hitting me with painful force. I never let him down. I was always there for him. And he’s right: I was.

But not anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, pulling my hands away. “It’s too late. I can’t do this.”

The smile slips from Garrett’s face. “I don’t understand.”

Of course he doesn’t.

“You’re not in love with me, not really,” I explain, realizing it for myself even as the words slip out. “You just love the way I always made you feel. Like you were the center of my world. Because you were.” I shrug, helpless. “I would have done anything for you.”

“I’d do anything for you, too!” Garrett says, confused. “That’s why this is meant to be!”

“No,” I say, understanding for the first time the great distance between who I used to be and who I am today. “I don’t love you. I did,” I add. “God, I loved you so much. But it’s over. I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Sadie . . .” He trails off, speechless. There’s nothing for him to say.

“It’s OK.” I smile faintly. “You’ll be fine. But I have to go now.”

I reach up on tiptoes and press a kiss to his forehead, feeling one last pang of regret. However it turned out, Garrett was my first love, my best friend. But it’s over now. All of it. The scene down there at the poetry slam proved it for sure. He sees me as some kind of adoring acolyte, a fan. But I’m more than that now.

“Take care,” I tell him, and then I turn and walk away.

It’s late by the time Mom pulls in to our driveway, but I don’t feel tired at all. I’m still buzzing with a strange adrenaline, a mix of relief and pride and exhilaration all in one. Something ended tonight. Something finally finished for good.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” my mom asks at last. She managed to show amazing self-control all during the drive home, but now she finally breaks. She looks over with concern. “Are you OK?”