Pulled(48)
Author: A.L. Jackson

But I had to respect her wishes. After all, it was my fault, and even though she’d never admit it, I knew it hurt her to even look at me. I’d caused all of this, and I feared she would never totally forgive me.

That thought alone nearly killed me. Still, she promised she would come back to me.

Worst of all was she thought it would be best if we weren’t in contact during the time she was away. She said she had to sort through it all, and it would only hurt worse if I was on the phone telling her how much I missed her.

I longed to hear her voice, just one phone call to hold me over until we were together again. I picked up the phone a hundred times a day to call her, just to tell her I loved her and that I couldn’t wait to hold her again. But I knew that was wrong. How could I do something she asked me not to do? Besides, Melanie’s mom would probably answer. Peggy had made it very clear whose fault it was.

She would be happy if Melanie never talked to me again.

Peggy said she just wanted what was best for Melanie, and it was obvious that best didn’t include me. So I waited, going through the motions each day, waiting for my heart to return to me.

I was ready to crack. I couldn’t continue like this much longer. I hadn’t been to class in a week and had barely made it out of bed in the last three days. I just wanted to lay here until Melanie came back to me. I didn’t have the strength to do anything else.

A knocking on the door jarred me from my thoughts. I pressed the pillow harder over my head, trying to drown out the incessant noise, but the pounding continued, getting louder.

“Go away!” I shouted as I threw the pillow across the room. Couldn’t people understand I just wanted to be alone? Obviously not, because whoever it was just kept knocking. Groaning, I stood up, my body aching from disuse and weak from lack of food. I dragged myself down the hallway, wearing only my boxers. I’m sure I looked as near to death as I felt. Ready to take all my frustration out on whoever was at the door, I swung it open, but stopped when I saw who it was.

Stephanie.

Shit.

She stood in my doorway in a red tank top and skirt, appearing nervous as she toyed with the end of her blonde ponytail pulled over her shoulder.

“Daniel Montgomery.” She let out an audible breath when she took in my appearance.

She’d been leaving messages me for the last three days, wondering why I’d missed all of our study sessions, and I’d never replied. We’d forged somewhat of a friendship over the last year as study partners, and she had convinced me to take physics over the summer session, insisting it would help get my mind off things.

Last week I had decided to blow it off. I just couldn’t focus on school right now. I guess I should have let her know.

“Why didn’t you call me back? I was getting worried about you.”

She seemed relieved. I’m not sure what she expected to find when she got over here.

I realized I was being rude, so I sidestepped to make room for her to come inside. “Sorry, I’m just not doing so great right now.” I stood there in nothing but my underwear, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I figured as much, so I came to make you dinner.” She held up a paper sack. “I thought you might need somebody to take care of you.” Reaching up, she caressed my cheek with her fingertips. Something about her touch felt too intimate. My instincts kicked in, telling me only Melanie should touch me that way. I eased back, not wanting to offend the only friend I had, but not wanting to encourage her. Hurt flitted across her face before she scrunched up her nose.

“Ew! Daniel! Seriously, you smell! I bet you haven’t had a shower in days. Go get cleaned up while I make us dinner.” She grinned at me, nodding her head toward the hallway. “And hurry up before I lose my appetite,” she teased, trying to lighten my mood a little bit.

For a moment, it felt good to have a friend that cared enough to check up on me.

It was hard being up here in Boulder all alone.

Mom and Dad tried to visit often, but with Dad at the hospital working long hours, it was hard for them to make it up more than every couple of weeks. Erin wouldn’t get home from her trip backpacking around Europe for another two months. She had been adamant that she cancel her trip, feeling she needed to be here for me, but I insisted that she go. There was no reason for her to stay here when she could do nothing for me anyway.

And it wasn’t like I was the best of company.

But Steph came to take care of me.

I tried to smile at her and headed to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and stepped into the steam. I breathed in and it hurt. The slight pressure in my ribs served as a constant reminder of what I had done, of the damage I caused. I welcomed the pain; God knew how much Melanie had suffered.

I sank down to the floor, hung my head between my knees, and mourned. I missed her so much.

“Melanie, come back to me.” I prayed that she could feel my plea.

I remembered Stephanie was waiting for me, so I forced myself to stand and finish my shower. Dried and dressed, I walked out to the kitchen. I stopped in the entryway and watched Stephanie working at the stove. I pictured my girl making us dinner. I grinned when I thought about how excited Melanie had been as she explored her kitchen for the first time, remembering just how happy it had made her.

Stephanie noticed me standing there staring and flashed a bright smile.

I grinned back.

“Thanks for doing this, Steph. You don’t know how much it means.” This was what I needed, somebody to force me out of the fog I was living in.

Sitting there eating the spaghetti Stephanie had made, I realized I couldn’t stay here and wait for Melanie much longer. I needed to bring her back to me, and I couldn’t do that if I was wasting away in bed.

We had to move on. I would go for her, and soon.

It was early July, so Melanie would have finished her correspondence courses by now and taken her finals to finish school. I hated that she chose to finish high school that way. It tore me apart knowing she wouldn’t walk across the stage to receive her diploma, take pictures with her family, and have that normal teenage rite of passage

—yet another thing that was my fault.

It was one of the many things I couldn’t change, something I couldn’t take back. But what I could do was end this suffering from our separation.

“Please, God, no!” I couldn’t see through the tears as I tried to find my way back to the Dallas airport. It poured rain outside, coming down in sheets, lightning flashing through the sky every few seconds.