A Million Miles Away(43)

She didn’t care. She was in love.

Kelsey climbed the streets of Mount Oread to Delta Sigma, where Davis was waiting for her on the front porch, comfortably lounging in a wicker chair between the white columns, like an old Southern gentleman.

As she approached him on the green lawn, Kelsey took a moment to appreciate his long, thin legs splayed out, wearing loafers and no socks, eyes behind Ray-Bans. He took a hand from around a bottle of Gatorade to wave.

She would miss him.

“I thought you’d never come,” he said, enfolding her in a hug and kissing the top of her head. “I thought you might have gone to Boca Raton by now, dancing on tables with your girlfriends.”

Kelsey let out a “ha!” at the ridiculous image. “I wouldn’t get on top of a table right now if somebody paid me.”

“Oh, you,” Davis said as they sat down on the porch steps. “Still on your parents’ dime. Fraternity dues are expensive. Baby, I’d grind on a church altar if someone paid me.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “No one would pay you to grind on anything.”

Davis laughed, draining the last of his drink. They sat in familiar silence, except for the distant sound of two of Davis’s frat brothers screaming at each other about a video game. On the lawn of a neighboring frat, two guys in pinnies threw a Frisbee back and forth, trying to avoid beer cans scattered everywhere. What a cartoon world.

What a foreign, flat world, even compared to the simplest of exchanges with Peter through a screen. Kelsey smiled to herself. The thought of Peter made her feel strong, free. She took a deep breath, and blew it out, fortifying herself.

“So,” Davis said, nudging her shoulder with his. “What’s it going to be?”

Kelsey looked at him, taking in the square-jawed face she had been kissing and yelling at and talking to for the past three years. They had barely spoken in several weeks, and now, there was a wall between them. They both knew what was about to happen, but to soften the blow, she said, “What do you mean?”

Davis’s jaw clenched. “C’mon, Kels. Your text said, ‘We need to talk.’”

“Yeah,” she said, looking at her nails. “We do.”

“So, talk,” Davis said, and for the first time in a while, Kelsey saw hurt cross his face.

Her chest tightened. “I think I’ve changed. And you’ve changed.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” Davis said. “I’m still the same person. I’m a pretty simple guy. The guy who loves you and supports you.”

“Well, we’ve changed, then. The way you and I are,” Kelsey said, putting a hand on his knee. It stiffened underneath her hand.

“I’m not going to deny that,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.

“We’ve drifted apart.”

Davis shrugged. “A few miles, across the city.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Davis said, and tipped back the bottle, though it was now empty. He shook it. “You don’t think I can be serious, but I can.”

Kelsey could feel herself grimace. Someone from inside the frat house had started playing a rap song. The bass bumped, vibrating the wood beneath them.

“You’re pushing me away,” Davis said. “You’ve been pushing me away since Michelle died.”

Kelsey said nothing, knowing it was true. He rarely spoke so plainly. He had been thinking about the two of them, just as she had.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this,” she said.

“But it doesn’t!” he said, laughing but angry, incredulous. “We’ve grown together before. We’ve gone through stuff. We were kids when we met.”

Kelsey almost smiled, the memory swelling inside her. “You had just gotten your braces off,” she said quietly. “Everyone thought you were so hot and cool and funny. And I was the one to get you. I was so proud.”

He stood up. “I’m still proud.”

Kelsey stood with him. “Davis—” she began.

“So it’s over?” he said quickly, stretching, trying to be as casual as he could be, though his jaw was still tight.

Kelsey nodded. “It’s over.”

Davis forced himself to smile down on her. “For now.” Then he clapped his hands, rubbing them together, like he did before a game or a night out.

Kelsey couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head. Always on the bright side. In her mind, there was no “for now.” Their relationship was over for good. But she would be losing a dear friend, too, and hoped she hadn’t lost him forever.

Before she got to the street, Kelsey paused, and turned back to Davis.

“Are you going to be okay?” she called from across the lawn.

“Me?” he called, picking up the empty bottle. “I’ll be fine. I’m not the one wearing my pajamas.”

Kelsey looked down at herself, then back to her ex-boyfriend.

“It’s a long story,” she said, and before she could reconsider the solemn, handsome figure on the porch, she let a new beginning tug her away.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR


The next afternoon, the first day back from spring break, Kelsey sat in the far corner of the Lawrence High cafeteria, her tray of spaghetti ignored, unwrapping a 3 Musketeers bar. First she bit into the end, to snap off the chocolate casing. Then a bite from the top, and the bottom. She watched the nougat reveal itself, as Peter had put it. The chocolate nonsense.