Chapter Eighteen -
As the months went by, it got easier.
Not letting go of Derek. There was a part of me—the part that had witnessed my mother's pain, probably—that expected it would never really get easier to let him go.
Covering it up got easier.
Derek tried to call me once after we broke up, but I was with Alex and I didn't answer. Derek left no message, and I never found out why he called.
Derek and I didn't speak. I avoided even looking at him when he could see me, although when I was out of his line of sight I would drink in as many glimpses of him as I could. I had already memorized every curve of his face and lock of his hair, every muscle in his body and even the way he wore his clothes. But I wanted to lock it all away somewhere in my memory where I would never lose it.
Secretly, I feared I would always love Derek.
But nobody needed to know that but me.
I knew I would never love like that again. It had been by accident that I stumbled into it with him, but losing my mother and my own heart to Love’s vicious grasp was enough.
As Kayla began to show, I was newly aware of the pain. It was like someone was painfully branding my insides every single time that I saw her, smiling and apparently happy as she let people touch her belly and she tugged on Derek's arm to tell him something or other. Imagining their child growing inside of her hurt so badly that the first time I really noticed the bump, it literally took my breath from me.
Once Kayla was showing, I stopped going to lunch. I couldn't eat in the lunchroom anyway, because the sight of them made my stomach physically sick. When possible, I would take the long way to my classes to avoid even passing her, and before long I had managed to eliminate most of the Kayla-sightings from my life.
When I did happen across her though, I forced myself to look regardless of the pain. Even though it hurt like hell, I felt that I needed those reminders. Months had gone by and I would still find myself crying as I tried to sleep on those nights when I would give in to a moment of weakness. On those nights, I would miss him. I would think about what it used to feel like to have Derek's arms around me, and I would lie in bed for hours replaying the good memories.
It probably wasn’t a good idea, but it was what I did anyway. I was only hurting myself, and nobody else knew. Besides, I didn't do it very often.
When I did, I thought of my mother, of those times when I was little and I would hear the same noise coming from the next room over.
As a child, it scared me.
As a young adult, it still scared me.
I got my college acceptance letter in the spring, so Alex and I began officially planning out our new life. Alex was an adventurous type anyway, and he swore that he had no problem scrapping the life he had made and starting fresh somewhere new. I didn't know if it was true, but I figured he must not mind too much because he was pretty enthusiastic about it.
We were going east, and Alex didn't seem the least bit concerned that we didn't know anyone there. Honestly, even though I was excited, I was also really nervous. I wondered what would happen to me.
As graduation drew closer, I tried to imagine myself actually leaving my hometown—going somewhere nobody knew my story, no one knew about my mother, nobody had slept with my father at any point in their life, and there was no Derek Noble.
If the last part hurt to think about, I never admitted it, even to my journals.
Somehow a world where I would never see that twinkle in Derek's blue eyes just seemed wrong. It seemed like something amazing would have to be missing from that world, like there would be a palpable emptiness that I would feel every day.
But I never spent time thinking about that. Even though getting Derek out of my life was the mission, I always avoided thinking about it, because it made me get a tight feeling in my chest that didn't seem healthy.
Instead, I focused on the "new beginning" aspect. A new state, a new town, a new school, and endless possibilities in my future. I was going to make it out of that small town, and I was going to do something in the world. I didn't know what yet, but the details weren't important. What was important was that I was not going to turn into my mother. I loved her despite her many flaws, but I wasn't going to waste my life the way that she did.
I deserved better, that's what Alex told me.
Sometimes when he was feeling brave he would even give me a little smile and tell me that I would love again, and someday I would get past Derek.
I didn't tell him that he was wrong.
Maybe he wasn't.
But I thought he was. Love was no longer a goal in my life. I had been there, I had done that, and it had been a bad idea.
Plus, as of the week of graduation I still hadn't gotten my heart back, so I didn't see how Alex expected me to give it to someone else.
Nobody knew that either, naturally. I had decided to keep up appearances and let everyone think I was okay. While most people noticed I was a little sad—I wasn't that talented of an actress, but I figured with practice there would be hope for me in my new life—I never let anyone see the depth of my pain. Even I tried not to acknowledge it, but after putting on the show for Alex and everyone at school, sometimes I was too tired to keep it up when I was alone.
Stephanie and I drifted apart. It sucked, because she was really my only friend since Andy and I broke up, but it simply wasn't possible. The stress of being torn between me and Kayla had been really hard on her, and she was just one more person to try to convince I was okay anyway. Besides, once I went off to college I knew I would never see her or talk to her, so why cause a rift between her and Kayla when I would be leaving anyway?
I was used to being on my own; I knew I would be okay.
One thing I knew how to do was take care of myself, and Alex was being more supportive than he ever had, so I had every advantage.
Graduation day itself was the worst.
The plan had always been not to tell Derek that I was leaving, because Alex was afraid he would make some sort of power-play at the last second if he knew I was really going away.
As hard as it was to imagine saying goodbye to Derek, I didn't know if it would really be easier if I didn't. Could I ever have closure if I never properly ended the chapter?
I didn't know if I would really have closure anyway, because in my heart I still felt that I was the one he wanted. As long as I believed that, would I ever really be able to let it go? Would I ever stop wondering what might have been?
During my last days at the bookstore, I fought with myself over whether or not I wanted to say goodbye to Derek. It seemed that every time I walked down the classics aisle there was a copy of Wuthering Heights just staring me down. "Buy me," it said, bringing to mind the old battered copy that my mother had given to Mike right before her death.
I wasn't dying, but as far as Derek was concerned I may as well be. I was going to fall out of his life just as completely, vanish without a trace.
The weekend before graduation, I gave in and bought the book, not making a decision one way or the other about actually giving it to Derek, but figuring with my life I could never really own too many copies of that particular book.
As I donned my cap and gown on graduation day, I discreetly peeked into my purse where the new copy of Wuthering Heights had been stashed. I had already decided that if I saw him I would give it to him—I couldn't convince myself that I brought the book for light reading between names—but I still hadn't decided if I should tell him I was leaving.
I was far enough past Derek that I knew falling back in—even if possible—would be bad. For one thing, even though it lit a fire in my soul, he and Kayla were back together. I was sure that it was just because it was easier, not because he wanted to be, but that really didn't make me feel a whole lot better. Telling myself I was the one who let him go was also not helpful, as I had tried that a few times when I realized seeing them together made my fists clench and my blood boil.
I was leaving.
It didn't matter what Derek did.
Soon, I wouldn't even know what he was doing.
If I told him goodbye, there was probably about a 90 percent chance that he’d just tell me goodbye too. He would probably look a little sad, and it would tug at my heartstrings and make me want to cry, but nothing would change.
Even if he asked me to stay I knew that I couldn't.
There was nothing to be done. He was going to have a child, it wasn't going to be mine, and apparently he could never be mine.
Fair? No. But life wasn't.
I knew that because Kayla had been able to steal away everything that mattered to me because the egg had been fertilized.
But everything would be okay. That's what Alex had told me one day when he caught me staring aimlessly off into space. My expression must have conveyed more than I intended.
Sometimes I still slipped up.
Absently caressing the cover of Wuthering Heights on graduation day as all the students prepared to line up, I got the distinct feeling that I was going to slip up again. I knew rationally that nothing would come of it, but it seemed there was a thread of optimism in my DNA that hadn't been vanquished, and I wondered if it ever would. Instead of paying attention to the teacher when she was waving me over to stand behind Adam Hammond, I caught myself daydreaming about fairy tales.
"Harmon," the teacher said.
"Huh?" I asked, pulling myself out of my thoughts to see that there were no singing birds or talking mice.
She waved impatiently, and I quickly fell into line behind Adam.
When my name was finally called and I walked across the stage, I remember feeling very alone, and then feeling guilty for that thought as I looked out into the crowd and saw Alex. He was grinning and waving at me, so I managed a smile and I waved my fingers just a little. He snapped a picture as I was handed my diploma and I offered him one last smile, privately wishing that my mother could have been there. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, my attention fell on another bright camera flash, which I followed back to a familiar set of blue eyes. I didn't hold my smile as I looked out at Mike, and he lowered his camera, watching me as I finished making my way across the stage.
I wondered if he still thought of my mother.
I wondered if I would still think of Derek when I was Mike's age.
It was hard to imagine my life that far into the future, as it would have surely been for Mike and especially my mom—who apparently lacked that kind of sight into the future—when they were my age. Where would I be? Would I be married? Would I have children? Was Alex right, would Derek be a distant memory?
Perhaps, like my mother, I lacked the foresight, but I couldn't see any of those things in my future.
Envisioning Derek's future, I could picture him and Kayla at their child's graduation in 19 years, and I wondered if he would even remember me on that day. Would he think about the fact that he had given me up for the person walking across the stage, smiling and waving at him as he or she got that diploma?
Or would he simply forget? Once I was gone, would he completely move on with his life and make the best of things? That far in the future, would he even remember that he had given me up without having to intentionally brush the dust off my memory?
Once the ceremony was over, it was time for everyone to mingle and take pictures. Most people were gushing with their friends about high school memories and how great college was going to be, and true to myself, I was standing off to the side clutching my copy of Wuthering Heights in my hands and half-heartedly trying to find Alex.
I had finally decided I would let Fate take care of it—if I ran into Derek, I would give him the book. If I didn't, I would keep the book and never see Derek again since Alex and I were leaving town the following day to get settled in at our new home.
Stephanie smiled and said hi to me when she ran into me, but I noticed that she didn't stop to take a graduation picture with me.
I wasn't surprised.
Nobody had taken a picture with me.
As the people conversed loudly, I began to feel irritated. I had no idea where Alex was, and the conclusion of my high school career was not a nostalgic day for me, so I just wanted to find him and get a picture so I could take off the damn robe.
Finally, I felt someone come up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.
My heart accelerated and I turned slowly to face him.
When I saw Alex, I hoped my face didn't visibly fall.
"Hey, kid. You ready to get out of that get-up?"
Smiling slightly, I said, "Definitely."
"Let's get a picture, then we can get out of here. Unless of course you want to stay," he added as an afterthought. "Visit with your friends one last time…"
Shooting him an ironic look, I said, "I don't have friends, Alex."
"Right," he said, frowning a little. "Well, I guess that narrows our options a bit, huh?" Catching the nearest person, he asked them to take a picture of the two of us, then he thanked them and handed me the camera.
"I'm going to go get the car, you can get changed and meet me out in front of the school, okay?"
I nodded and turned around to walk away from the crowd of people.
I didn't mean to feel disappointed. It wasn't like Derek even knew it was the last day he might ever set eyes on me, so I shouldn't have even expected to see him.
It just seemed like after all we had been through together, it was kind of shitty that I wasn't even going to get to see him once at the end.
As I walked down the hallway, I found myself extremely disappointed in my stupid life. It wasn't at all like things were supposed to be. It wasn't like a book or a movie; not only was Prince Charming not going to come after me, I wasn't even going to get a goodbye.
That had been part of the "new start" plan anyway, but the reality of it made tears burn behind my eyes.
It seemed I was torn; I wanted my goodbye, and I didn't. I wanted him to make me stay, and I wanted to go.
Maybe I just wanted to see him. Could it be that I just missed him, and before I left I wanted one more glimpse into those beautiful blue eyes? It would have probably only tortured me anyway, I reasoned, made it harder to walk away, but some masochistic part of me didn't care.
"Nikki," I heard as I passed an empty classroom.
I stopped dead in my tracks, and my heart filled up with a bunch of conflicting emotions to the point that I could barely draw a breath.
I turned toward him and saw him leaning against a wall, just inside the door.
"Hey," I said quietly.
"Hey," he returned.
I gravitated toward him, so naturally I stepped inside the classroom with him. It was dark inside, and Derek was still wearing his robe.
"What are you doing in here?" I asked.
Shrugging a little, he said, "Hiding from my stepmom. She won't stop taking pictures."
Nodding, I glanced around the familiar classroom.
It hit me that it was the same exact classroom Derek had pulled me into a lifetime before when I noticed he had yellow shoe laces and freaked out, fearing that he would get Kayla pregnant.
And he thought I was crazy.
"Did your dad get lots of pictures?" Derek asked me, half smiling.
I shook my head. "Just one. He's not really a picture person," I said, for some reason holding up the camera as if me holding it could be considered proof.
"Let me take one," he said, holding his hand out for the camera. "It's graduation, you need a memory."
It shouldn't have made my eyes burn, but they seemed to be doing a lot of that. I forced a smile and handed him the camera.
He raised the camera and brought me into focus, but he must not have been satisfied with the picture I presented because he frowned, saying, "Try not to look like you just lost your best friend. You just graduated high school. Remember all the times we've looked forward to this day? We made it."
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "It's just not how I imagined it."
An impish smile crossed his face and for a moment the twinkle returned to his eyes as he said, "Me and you alone in a dark classroom? Funny, that's exactly how I imagined it."
Even though it made me sad, it also made me chuckle, but when my eyes opened back up I could feel moisture glistening on the surface.
Too late to stop him, he snapped the picture.
The twinkle changed, dulled, and he said, "One more?"
I nodded, and without having to think about it, I said, "Both of us."
He smiled half-heartedly and nodded, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and holding the camera out in front of him, facing us.
I tried to hold my composure, but being that close to him, feeling his arm around me, the warm closeness of his body and the inherent scent of him proved to be too much. I felt the tears trickle over my lower eyelid and make a trail down my cheek. I tried to turn away from the camera, turning my face into his shoulder, my arm naturally winding around his neck.
He had already pushed the button, so the flash went off even though my face was buried in his shoulder and my eyes were closed, a tear on my cheek.
"Hey," he said as he wrapped his other arm around me, pulling me into an embrace. "The picture wasn't that bad," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
I ached to tell him how much I missed him, how tempted I was as he rubbed my back to comfort me to just stay there and never leave.
I began to cry, and when I got noisy about it I knew I had to go.
I started to pull back, but I only made it about halfway when I felt his arms tighten around my waist. Then I looked up at him.
Meeting his gaze was a mistake, because what I saw there was the same pain that I was feeling.
"I'm sorry, Nikki," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I did this to us."
I dashed the tears from my eyes, biting down on my bottom lip to keep it from quivering. "I should go. Alex is waiting."
"I know you hate me," he said. "I don't blame you."
Rolling my eyes as I scrubbed more tears from my cheeks, I said shakily, "I don't hate you, Derek. I love you. I'll spend the rest of my life loving you, it just won't matter."
I expected words, some sort of comeback to what I had just said. What I did not expect was to feel Derek's hand cradle the back of my head as he gently pulled me close, leaning in slowly enough that I was aware of every nerve in my body standing on end as our bodies touched, molded together as if we were one—the way it was supposed to be. I felt a few more tears gathering at the corners of my eyelids, but then Derek leaned in, lightly brushing his lips against mine in a kiss so tender and sweet that I would have remembered it forever even if it wasn't goodbye. He kissed me slowly, tasting my lips as if he understood that he would never have another chance to memorize how they felt.
When the kiss ended he allowed me to pull back, and I could feel fresh tears about to fall.
"I have to go," I said, my eyes locked on his even though I wanted to look away.
Since he had no reason to suspect I meant any further than the trailer park, he nodded and said, "I'm glad I got to see you today."
Biting my lip, I nodded. "Me too."
"I'm sure I'll see you around this summer," he said, trying to lighten the mood a little since there were still tears in my eyes.
Since I knew what he didn't, the plan backfired and I felt a deep well of sadness envelope me, making me aware of an aching emptiness inside that made me a little nervous.
"Goodbye, Derek," I whispered, not able to speak any louder when there were tears in my voice.
"Nikki, wait," he said as I made it to the doorway.
I stopped, taking a steadying breath before turning back around to face him.
He was holding out the camera. "You might want this."
Without looking at him, I reached out and took the camera from him.
It wasn't until that moment that I remembered the book. Reaching into the folds of my robe, I pulled the copy of Wuthering Heights out of my back pocket.
"I didn't know if I would see you today," I said, "but I brought this in case I did."
He stared at the book in my hand for a couple seconds before remarking, "Not a very cheerful graduation present."
Smiling slightly, I said, "I just thought I'd carry the tradition on to the next generation."
Derek took the book a bit reluctantly, then he glanced up at me, sadness reflected in those beautiful blue eyes of his.
It was the face of an angel, and it was the face I knew I would see in my memories for years to come.
I felt the burning again, so before I shed anymore tears I forced a smile and a brave face, echoing my mother’s words. "Be happy, Derek. I want you to be happy."
It must have been a strange thing to say, because he frowned at me, but without giving him a chance to even respond I turned and quickly exited the classroom, running back down the hall in the same direction that I had come from, not really even remembering why I had been going down the hall in the first place.
I reached the doors at the front of the school before I realized I was still in my cap and gown, that I had been going to change when I ran into Derek.
I didn't turn around. I couldn't see him again. The ending had been good enough for me—better than I had intended—and I didn't want any other memory as my last memory of him.
So I ran out to Alex's car in my cap and gown, ignoring the funny look he gave me and climbing in the car.
"Hey, I thought you were changing," Alex said, eyeing up my robe.
Shaking my head, I put the camera in my lap and hoped he didn't notice I had been crying.
Shrugging, he said, "All right." He put the car in gear, glancing up at me.
I looked at the school building, taking in one last look at everything, briefly thinking of the memories that had taken place there.
"Are you ready, kiddo?" Alex asked me.
Slowly, I nodded, forcing the lump in my throat to go back down.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
He nodded and started to pull away, but then he hit the brakes, looking over at me. "Are you okay?"
"I will be," I told him with a shaky nod.
"For what it's worth," he said, moving his hand on top of mine and looking at me, our green eyes meeting, "Jamie would have been so proud of you."
Cursing the tears that threatened to fall yet again, I refused to let them, nodding instead. "I know she would have. She would be proud of you, too, you know."
He offered a sad little smile and released my hand, resting it back on the wheel as he looked away from me, letting off the brake and easing forward to the edge of the parking lot.
As he looked both ways to make sure no cars were coming, I stole one last glance in the rearview mirror.
In that fleeting moment, I wished that it could be the last time I ever looked back.
I knew it wouldn't be.