Page 13

Now

Older by Lizzy McAlpine

After I toss and turn for what feels like the fortieth time, I decide to get out of bed because, like always, sleep never seems to come naturally to me.

I don’t know why I thought it would be easier after dinner, or maybe I thought the weight of seeing my friends and all the anxiety from today would make me crash. It didn't work, and now, I can’t sleep.

I get out of bed and head for the small kitchen area.

The girls bought a bunch of snacks and drinks, since we’ll be in this room for two weeks, and I could not be more thankful.

I tiptoe through the suite, and when I reach the cupboards, I pull out a mug and end up finding some hot chocolate mix.

Before I head outside, I grab a bag of my favorite kind of chips to keep my hands busy.

I’m sure Ella bought all this for me. Even though our relationship is still strained, that's who she is as a person. Once she knows all your favorite things, she’ll always remember them. As much as she probably hates that I’m here, I appreciate the gesture.

I throw my cardigan on and step outside onto the balcony, parking myself in one of the lounge chairs.

I’ve always been a bit too attached to the beach and the ocean.

I grew up going to the beach during the summers.

Sometimes, I would bring my journal to the beach and have a picnic by myself.

Any time I was going through a rough patch, I found myself sitting and listening to the waves that felt as aggressive and loud as my mind did.

It was comforting, knowing something as simple as water was able to emulate the emotions in my brain.

Most of the time, it was me and the sand, me and the water.

I enjoy the quiet a little too much as someone who lives in a state of constant noise, whether in my head or outside of it.

In the state of constant exhaustion I’m always in, the quiet is a nice break.

My medication helps to keep my thoughts more uniform, but it’s not a total cure.

So, as I sit on this balcony and listen to the sounds of the waves in the distance, I’m jolted back to that time when I used to sit and stare at the water, wondering why I was so different.

When I think about the days I’ve had since those lonesome ones I spent at the beach, I can’t help but smile.

I’ve seen the world. I’ve seen a lot of the country I live in.

I’ve lived on my own and supported myself.

I’ve hit rock bottom and crawled my way out with the help of my therapist. The moments that often replay in my mind are ones from that little classroom back on campus at Grand Mountain.

Those moments hold the most meaning for me. In that classroom freshman year, for the first time, I was accepted for who I was, no questions asked. Now, I’m back with these girls, my girls, and I have so many pieces to patch up before we get back to what we were.

For the last few months, when I came out of the hole I was stuck in, the mistakes I made all hit me in the face at the same time.

For a few weeks, I could barely move forward.

Every day, my mind was reminding me I was failing—at life, at being a friend, a daughter, a human.

I could barely get out of bed. I was not functioning well at all.

Then, I learned to give myself some grace amidst all the change, but it didn't happen overnight. I’m still struggling with it, and my mind is not the nicest place to be sometimes.

It feels as if I’ll never stop blaming myself for all of this—the distance, the awkwardness, all of it. Even if we get back to where we used to be, I’ll still carry the weight of what I’ve done. I’m sure of it.

“Can’t sleep?”

The voice startles me, and when I look up to see Ella leaning against the sliding door, I set my hot chocolate down.

“No, but now I definitely won’t be sleeping, since you scared the crap out of me,” I joke.

She doesn't say a word to me as she closes the door, steals my bag of chips that I haven't opened, and sits on the end of my lounge chair. She continues to say nothing as she opens the bag and eats a few.

“Aren’t you cold?” I ask her, noting she’s only wearing a satin two-piece pajama set and fuzzy socks. Her natural curly hair is up in a messy bun, the loose strands blowing in the breeze.

“I’m alright,” is all she says, not looking at me but out at the water. It’s a beautiful night, but the wind keeps giving me goosebumps. “I’m actually glad I woke up and saw you out here.”

Her words surprise me. “Really?”

She nods. “I wanted to make a few things clear to you before we jump into all these festivities. ”

I should have known this was coming. Not only is Ella fiercely protective of her friends, but this is Paige’s wedding, and I’m sure she wants it to go as smoothly as possible.

Paige deserves it. After all she’s been through, we deserve to do what we can to make these two weeks perfect for her.

I’m a hitch in those plans, and I can understand why she wants to talk to me.

“Go ahead,” I tell her.

“We are not ruining this for Paige. Not only did she and Hads work hard to plan all these activities, but this is her wedding, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know, Ells,” I remind her. “It’s not my intention to do anything to make this time feel any less special. Paige deserves better.”

“Yeah, she does. She deserves a better friend than you’ve been; hell, we all deserve a better friend than you’ve been. You disappeared, Amelia, and now you’re back, and it’s throwing us all for a loop.”

I deserved that. “I know—”

“I’m not done,” she says, her voice low.

“There’s no secret there’s distance between us and you.

That couldn't be more obvious, but we’re grown women, and we all need to take accountability for our actions.

Part of me is glad you’re back, but the other part of me is screaming you’re going to disappear again after this.

You still feel like a ghost to us, even though you’re sitting right in front of me. ”

I know what she means. I feel it too, and I hate that the distance is there, but again, it’s my fault. “I’m not leaving again, Ella.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I know me saying this means nothing. After all the empty promises, unread messages, and unanswered calls, my words mean nothing. They shouldn't mean anything to you guys, because not once did they match my actions. I get it, Ella. Any bad thought you’ve had about me is the same thing I’ve thought about myself ten times over. ”

She locks eyes with me, a knowing look passing through her features. She knows I understand what she’s saying. I’m not quite sure if she believes me when I say I’m not leaving, but maybe my actions will change that.

“I’m glad you understand it’s on you to fix this. You have to have these tough conversations since you were the one who left us, Amelia. It wasn't the other way around.”

“I know. I left physically and mentally. I ghosted. I fucked up,” I say as a few tears come to my eyes.

Normally, I’m not much of a crier, but ever since I left, all I seem to do is cry.

I guess suppressing my emotions only worked for twenty-three years.

I had a good run, really, I did. “But there’s a lot you guys don’t know. ”

“Always so self-aware, aren't you?” she says with a laugh. “If there’s a lot we don’t know, then tell us. All we’ve ever wanted was for you to be more open and honest with us. Communication is everything, Amelia. We never needed more than that from you. Just reciprocation in what we give you.”

“When the time is right, I will. But we just got here, and I still have to talk to Paige and Hads. I’ll get there, I promise, but give me a little grace.”

Her eyes pinch at me before they soften, and I can tell she knows something is up, because she goes quiet. For a few minutes, we don’t speak.

“Can I ask you something?” She breaks our silence.

“Of course.”

“Did you see my messages when I was over in England? Or was I texting a brick wall?”

“I saw them. I even almost responded—twice.

I just couldn't. I was afraid to see you after all the time we lost. I knew you would put me in my place—rightfully so—and I wasn't in the right headspace to take that.” Not only was I overwhelmed with work, but I was also overwhelmed with trying to figure out where I fit over there—as a person, a partial citizen, and in my life.

Her messages were only the beginning of my spiral.

I knew I couldn't handle it, so I didn't even give myself the option. “Why were you in England anyway?”

“Do you actually want to know?”

I grab her hands, my legs crisscrossing underneath me as I sit up fully. “Yes, Ella. I do. I missed out on so much, and any story or detail you want to tell me, I want to hear.”

She looks at me, her big brown eyes taking in every word I say before she speaks again.

“Leo’s father was rushed to the hospital after having a stroke.

I came home after having dinner with him to Alissa frantically packing her suitcases, and they asked me to go with them, so I did.

We took a flight over there, and I helped them through a really tough time.

After he got back is when we finally got together. ”

“Is his father okay?” I ask. A stroke is a huge deal, and I can’t imagine being an entire country away while something as big as that happens.

Well, I guess I can, in a way. I was over here when I found out Grant was in a car accident, and even then, I couldn't seem to get myself on a plane. I can’t imagine how scared they all were, and I didn't even send a text.

It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about that.

Ella jumped on a plane to help their family when they needed it, and I stayed put when Grant almost died. That’s where she and I differ.

“He is. You would have known that if you met me for a drink back then.”

“I know,” I say, dropping my head. “I know it means nothing coming from me, but I’m sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth.”

“I would say it’s okay, but it’s been fucking hard.

Not only was so much happening in my personal life, but all of us were changing and shifting in so many ways without you.

My mom came back, and you weren't here. Hads and Paige got engaged, and you weren't here. Grant was hurt, and you weren't here. No calls—nothing, Amelia. My mother, who abandoned me when I was a kid, came back, and my entire family forgave her, but I couldn't. You coming back sort of feels like that to me, and I don’t want to repeat it. I don't want you to waltz back in here with your false promises and break our hearts all over again. I won’t do it again. I won’t.”

I didn't know her mom came back. God, I can’t even imagine. Ella never really talked in depth about her childhood or anything to do with her mother, but she was always worrying about her dad and sister. I can’t even imagine how hard that was for her.

I wasn't here for her. God, I’m going to throw up by the end of this conversation.

“If it helps, I’ve pretty much felt like the worst person on the planet.

I hit rock bottom, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get myself out of it, so I had to do a lot of things out of my comfort zone the last few months. In a way, I’m glad I went to England, but I also regret a lot of the decisions I made while I was over there.

I live with the regret every day for what I did to you guys, and I’m willing to do anything to prove I’m back for good.

I’m not going to leave again, because—” My voice catches in my throat, and the next words I say struggle to get out.

“I don’t want to leave the only family I’ve ever really known.

Whatever’s left of my heart can’t handle that again.

I can’t lose the only people who have fully accepted me, flaws, mistakes, and all.

I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. ”

The two of us sit with our words, our sentences hanging in the air, and all I can hear are the waves crashing in the background while my brain starts to fill with other things I should blurt out, or other ways I can over explain myself.

It could be one minute, five, or ten before I hear the crinkle of the chip bag.

“Do you want some?” Ella asks me, and I take her gesture as a small lifeline in the middle of my thoughts running wild.

“Sure,” I say as I grab a few .

“That doesn't mean I fully forgive you,” she says as she gets up, leaving the bag on the chair. “But this conversation was a good start, Ames.”

Then, she heads inside, the sliding glass door shutting behind her. When I lean back in my chair and wrap my cardigan around my body, I can’t help but realize she called me by my nickname for the first time since I’ve been back.

A little bit of hope blooms in my chest. I’ve officially made it through one tough conversation with one girl I care about, and I make a note to update my therapist about all this in the morning.

I guess growth and change aren’t so bad after all. Is it terrifying? Yes, but it will be worth it. It has to be.