Chapter Five
Alexa
After I pulled myself together, I ended up having a good time at the mall. Everything continued to remind me of Emma, but I tried to approach all those thoughts from the point of view of good memories. I allowed myself to smile when I remembered how she had once walked through the electronic toy section at the toy store and pushed a button on each toy so by the time we left the aisle it was a cacophony of noise. I got an iced coffee at the place where she used to buy an entire bag of chocolate covered coffee beans and eat until she got a “buzz,” she used to say. I tried on bathing suits and remembered being here with her last year before we left for college doing the same thing. I choked up over that one a little bit, but I fought through it. I was hopeful when I left there that one day all of my memories of her would bring a smile to my face instead of a pain to my heart.
The time alone was good for me; Dad had been right about that. I ended up buying a few things, but I didn’t break the bank and I had an epiphany on the way home. I’d spent my day thinking about Emma mostly, but occasionally I’d let Ian slip in there. I realized when he did that I completely believed him when he told me that nothing happened between him and his ex. I believed him right away. I didn’t doubt him at all. I had to examine why that was and the decision I came up with was that it was because I trusted him. I trust him. I have fun with him. I can talk to him. I’m crazy attracted to him. So why was I torturing myself? Maybe I was becoming addicted to the drama. I needed to get past that crap that was for sure. I knew what I wanted and I needed to just go for it. I wanted to be with him, more than anything.
When I got home I found Dad in the back yard, mowing the lawn. I poured him a glass of iced tea and took it out to him.
“Thank you. So, how was it?” he asked.
“It was good. Really good. Thank you for suggesting it.” I handed him the AMEX card and said, “I only bought a couple things and I had enough so I didn’t use the card. But thanks Dad, for everything.” I hugged him. He smelled like fresh-cut lawn and Dad. I thought about telling him that I’d also decided to keep seeing Ian…but I thought maybe I should talk to Ian first and he and I could decide together where we were at and where we wanted to let this thing go. That way when Dad started asking questions, I would have answers. Besides, I got the feeling it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Before I went to bed I sent Ian a text that said, “I’d like to see you. Can we talk?”
I left it at that and went to sleep. I slept a lot better than I had the night before. The first thing I did after I once again shook off the horror that was beginning to be the morning norm for me, was reach for the phone. I was literally stunned when I saw that he’d never responded. That was strange. I didn’t let myself panic over it though, remembering my promise to stop living in the drama. I just sent him another one that said,
“Hey! Did you get my text?”
I got up after that and went about my morning routine. I refused to even carry the phone around with me. I trusted that he would text back. I took my shower and then I stayed busy for the next couple of hours doing laundry and cleaning up around the house. My dad had gone to visit his friend, so I had the house to myself. I turned up the music and while I cleaned I thought about what I would say when I saw Ian. I was going to tell him that we needed to just start fresh and be honest about everything. I really wanted it to work with him, and I thought that he did too. I think we have both been so afraid that the other was only in this for the short term while the grief passed that we were afraid to be completely honest about how we were feeling…at least I had. I was hoping he felt the same.
After I finished the housework I let myself check my phone again. There were two text messages. One from my dad that said, “Hey Princess. Just checking in. You doing okay today?”
I texted back: “I’m good, Dad. Don’t worry. Have fun.”
The other message was from a girl from school named Heather. Heather said,
“Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Haven’t heard from you. Worried.”
Heather was a new friend, but she was a good one. I measured all my friends by Emma standards. Most of them didn’t pass. The bar was set pretty high. The odds were looking good for Heather though. She would never take Emma’s place, but she could definitely work out as a long-term close friend. I texted back.
“Thanks for checking in. I’m hanging in there. I hope you and everyone at school are doing well. I miss you guys, but home is what I need right now. Maybe we can have dinner or drinks next week?”
I was trying to stall. I didn’t want to have to face the fact that there was nothing from Ian. Suddenly my mind started going to dark places. What if something happened? What if there was something wrong? No one would think to call me if he was in an accident. No one except my dad even really knew that Ian and I were involved. I decided I’d call him and if he was in the hospital or something, someone else would answer if it rang, right? I pulled up his number and pressed send. I held my breath, but I didn’t have to hold it for long. It went straight to voicemail. What the hell? Maybe he was at the gym…but would that explain why he didn’t answer my texts?
I spent the next hour worrying, pacing and trying to call him back. I even considered calling his mom, just to see if she heard from him. Then I thought about how horrible that would be if something really was wrong and decided against it. It just didn’t make sense to me why he wouldn’t text me back…or why he had his phone off. When I left his apartment, neither of us was angry…at least I didn’t think so. I just told him I needed some space, and he gave that to me. I told him I wasn’t angry and I don’t recall doing anything that should have upset him. So why was he ignoring me now? There had to be something wrong, it was the only explanation I could come up with. I grabbed my purse and keys and headed out to his apartment to find out.
When I got there and knocked on the door, I had butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t stop letting my mind go to those ugly places where something terrible happened to him and his parents and I would have to go through what we had with Emma, all over again. He didn’t answer on the first knock, so I knocked again, that time more urgently. A few seconds passed and he pulled the door open. First he looked surprised…and then annoyed. Was he that unhappy to see me?
“Alexa? What are you doing here?” I guess that answered my question.
“You’re not answering my texts or my calls. I was worried about you.” Why wasn’t he inviting me in? He had his body in the doorway like he was barring my entrance. Talk about hostile body language. What the hell?
“I’m fine,” he said. “I was just on my way out. I have to meet with the fight promoter.” He reached over to the table next to the door and picked up his keys. Then he twisted the lock and stepped out. I didn’t want to think he had someone else in there, but it was almost like he wanted me to.
“Ian? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I told you, I’m fine. I just have to go. I’m running late.” He turned his back on me and headed for the stairs. I was freaking out a little. I went over and stood between him and the stairwell.
“Ian, talk to me. Are you angry with me? I just needed some time, I thought you understood that. I wasn’t mad….”
“I’m not angry, Alexa, but I’m getting there. I need to go and you’re making me late. You need to just let me go, okay?”
“Why are you treating me like this? I didn’t do anything wrong?” He pushed past me, not literally, he didn’t touch me, but he brushed by and went down the stairs. Again, I followed him. Maybe I needed to learn when to give up. “Ian, please talk to me!” He just ignored me and kept walking. I’m not sure what I thought I was going to accomplish, but I kept following him. I was hurt and angry and really, really pissed that I was practically begging him to talk to me and he wouldn’t.
“Ian!” I said one more time as he got into his car. Then I stood there and watched him leave, not even glancing at me as he did. My chest was aching and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Why would he do this to me? If he didn’t want to be with me, didn’t I at least deserve to know why? Why was he acting like such a jerk?
I went back home and stayed in my room the rest of the day and night. When Dad got home, I pretended like I was asleep. I didn’t want to talk to him about Ian. I didn’t want to talk about anything. I was too busy obsessing over what I did to warrant Ian’s attitude earlier. I kept going over our recent conversations in my head and I couldn’t come up with an explanation for his behavior. Just before his ex-girlfriend got there, we had been having a great time. What the hell happened between then and now? I knew it was going to drive me crazy if I didn’t at least find out why. When the reminder went off on my phone for his fight the next night, I decided that I was going to go and afterwards, he was going to talk to me whether he liked it or not.