Page 92 of Oleander

“She cares about me too much. More than I care about her. I don’t think that’s how relationships should work.”

“Actually I’d say that’s how most relationships work,” he replied. “One person always cares far more than the other. I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong in acknowledging it.”

“And what about what we did on my couch, or in the birdwatcher hut, or the library? Is that wrong?”

“You know I don’t think it is.” His voice was sharp suddenly.

“I meant while I’m with Ellie,” I said. “That feels wrong. Especially when she’s telling me she loves me, and I feel guilty when I say it back.”

“Why do you feel guilty?”

“Because it’s a lie.”

A brief pause. “Christ, Jude. Do you think you have any idea what love is at your age?”

He was using the voice he used when he’d tell me how Russian Literature was greater than both English Literature and the ‘toilet paper’ that was American Literature. Imperious with alacing of condescension. It was how I always heard him in my head, when I thought of our conversations in hindsight, when hours later I’d think of something smart to say to something he’d said or asked. It was as though we weren’t merely months apart in age and more like he were some wizened old sage with a wealth of experience beneath his cloak and beard.

“I think,” I said. “I think I know what it isn’t.”

Another pause. Then:

“I’m honestly not sure you do.”

Twenty-six

Iwasn’t going to be persuaded. Regardless of Caspien’s less-than-helpful advice and attempts at convincing me not to do this, I’d already decided. I had to do this. It had already gone on too long, far too long.

I should have broken up with her after the day in his mother’s bedroom. I’d known then that my feelings for him were entirely different, more potent, than my feelings for Ellie had ever been. I’d known in a scattering of moments on that floor that I’d never feel anything for Ellie that came close to what I’d felt for Caspien.

What I felt for him now.

He’d peeled back a few layers and shown me what lay underneath, and I wanted him more than I ever had before. It was those incremental steps toward each other that occupied my mind as Luke drove me to Ellie’s after dinner.

“I’m going to break up with her,” I told him as he pulled up outside her house in St. Brelade. The lights of every room were on inside, the blue light of the TV bouncing off the walls in her brother’s room upstairs. A ribbon of nerves danced around my stomach. “Do you think...I mean, I don’t think she’ll want me hanging around for long. After.”

“Oh, buddy.” He made a sad clucking noise. “Yeah, sure. I need some petrol anyway. And I suppose I could use the jet towash the car. Give me a call when you’re done, okay? I’ll come right back.”

I nodded, grim.

He put his hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Judey. You’re doing the right thing.”

“I know. I just feel shitty about it.”

“I’ll bet. But Ellie’s a strong girl. I mean, you’re pretty great and all, but she will get over you. Eventually.” He smiled at this last part.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll call you in a bit.”

I had to ring the doorbell twice before she answered. My chest ached as she pulled it open with a bright smile and an expression that bordered on adoring. She was wearing short shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with ‘1989’ on the front. Her dark hair was bunched up in a high knot, cheeks flushed, and legs lithe and long.

She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. The kiss she placed on my lips was gentle and tasted of peach and vanilla.

“You should have just come in.” She smiled and grabbed my hand to try and pull me into the house. I watched her face fall when I didn’t move.

“Just...I thought we could go for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah, down to the beach maybe?” I looked up at the sky. The night was clear and pleasant. Mild enough that she wouldn’t have to change.