Page 245 of The Havenport Collection

Eliza

T he last thing I wanted to do on a Sunday night was go bowling. But Gina was not taking no for an answer. Probably because her older brother Carlo was going with his best friend, Finn, who Gina had been crushing on since elementary school.

And as much as I wanted to wallow and relive the memories of my night with Matteo, I wanted to support my friend.

After all she had been through in California, I knew she needed me.

She worked every day to manage her depression, just like how I had to work to manage my ADHD.

And I respected the hell out of her for it.

So when she needed me to help her be social, I did it. No questions asked.

And I owed her. She had let me hermit in peace for the last two days.

Just this morning she made me blueberry pancakes and didn’t ask one single question.

She knew I was in full hermit mode and respected it.

She did all the dishes and took the trash out, even though it was my turn.

So the least I could do was slap on some mascara and pretend to have a good time for a couple of hours.

“Look at you, girl.” I whistled when she came into my room.

Gina had gone all out. Her long hair was down and freshly blown out, and she was wearing a cute mini dress with tights and combat boots.

She was petite and curvy and had a cute, goth style.

For the first time in months, her cheeks had some color, and the dark circles under her eyes had faded. My heart swelled.

“I’m proud of you, Gina,” I said, as we hopped into my car.

“Stop it.” She rolled her eyes at me.

“I mean it. You’re doing the work and I love you.” I reached over and squeezed her hand.

“It took me twenty minutes to get this cat eye right. Don’t make me ruin my makeup.” She dabbed at the corner of one eye and I smiled.

“Okay, okay. It would be a shame to ruin such impeccable makeup. But I love you.”

“I love you too. And I promise we can leave early and go home and eat ice cream together.”

“You are the best friend in the entire world.”

“And then you can tell me what happened. If you want to. And I will listen and hug you and rage or cry—whatever you need me to do.”

“All of the above, please.”

We pulled up at The Fish Bowl, a slightly dilapidated Havenport fixture.

It clearly hadn’t been renovated or even really cleaned since the seventies.

But Sunday was five-dollar-pitcher night, and candlepin bowling was pretty fun, so more often than not we found ourselves strapping on the rented shoes.

Because the pins were straight and the balls were small and had no finger holes, it was really difficult.

We were terrible at it, but the lack of serious competition made it more fun.

“Hey Joe. Jackie.” I waved at the proprietors of the diner, one of my favorite town couples. They were the reigning champions of the Havenport elderly bowling league, and they walked by like celebrities in matching shirts with their names embroidered on them, giving me a friendly nod.

Sylvie and Wyatt had already arrived and were looking loved up and adorable.

Wyatt immediately got up and offered us the bench to put our shoes on and poured us beers.

I adored him. Not only was he kind, generous, and hooked us up with free beer at the brewery, but he kept Sylvie from moving away and taking a job she hated.

Since meeting Wyatt, she had decided to pursue her dream of becoming a songwriter and was more excited and engaged than I had seen her in years.

I felt a slight pang of envy seeing them together. Although I had given up hope of that kind of long-term soulmate love long ago, it still stung a bit to see it up close. I was thrilled for them, but couldn’t escape the feeling that I was missing out.

My mind instantly flew to Matteo. The way it felt when he held me. The feeling inside my stomach when he treated me to one of his rare smiles. But then I thought back to our conversation Friday night and I could feel the familiar creep of panic inside me.

I distracted myself chatting and pouring beers for the new arrivals, and before long, the Fish Bowl had filled up, a mixture of families looking for a fun night out, twenty-somethings who came out for the cheap beer, and the elderly league bowlers who were talking a lot of trash between sets.

It was a fun vibe, and I was grateful to Gina for dragging me out of our apartment.

KC and the Sunshine Band rang out from the giant speakers, and I was starting to relax when Carlo walked in with some friends in tow. Gina’s face lit up when she saw Finn, not that you could miss him—he was a full head taller than everyone in the place with his man bun.

My face fell when I saw who was standing behind him. Ryan, looking hot and irresponsible. I felt nauseated. My brain was consumed with thoughts of Matteo and then my ex-fuck buddy had to walk through the door. The universe was clearly punishing me.

He came over and gave me a hug, and I got a strong whiff of his expensive cologne.

It made me feel sick. As always, Ryan looked like a bad decision.

He wore a slouchy beanie and a plaid shirt open over a white tank.

He was fit—not that he put much effort into it, but he was naturally muscular and lean.

And he was fun. Silly and personable and charming.

He fit into any situation, any group with a smile.

We started to bowl, and someone ordered some wings.

It was fun, and I kept checking on Gina, making sure she was okay.

But she was having a good time talking to Sylvie while sneaking looks at Finn.

I tried to lose myself in conversation and the games, but I couldn’t do it. All I could think about was Matteo.

Then, as if the universe had decided I needed to be tortured just a bit more, I heard a small voice scream my name. “Eliza!” I looked up from my beer to see Valentina running toward me, in a floor-length pink sundress worn over a red turtleneck and a headband with a unicorn horn on it.

I managed to put my beer down before she tackled me into a hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just bowling with my friends.” I gestured to my friends, and she waved at Gina.

“Me too. My dad brought me here with my cousins. We play with the bumpers down, but it’s still super fun.

I won a round and now we’re getting fries and then playing again.

” She pointed to the opposite side of the building, past the ultracompetitive old folks, to where Matteo was standing with his arms crossed, staring at me.

There were several adults and kids around him, all looking to be having a great time. I froze, locked in his glare. I could feel the heat from at least forty feet away.

“Have so much fun!” I told Valentina as she headed back to her group. “I hope you win the next one.”

She bounced back toward her dad, and my stomach sank.

I suddenly felt hyperaware of every detail.

I should have made more effort with my makeup tonight, and these jeans were old and comfy and not as sexy as some of my others.

I closed my eyes and wished to teleport home to my couch, but when I opened them I was still in the middle of a bowling alley, except Ryan had sidled up to me and was talking again.

Before I knew what was happening, Matteo and his group had moved over to the two open lanes next to us.

Gina was hugging Matteo’s twin brother Gio and their father, who was teaching making silly faces at his grandchildren.

They were all smiling and chatting, and I played on my phone, desperate to avoid his eye.

After a bit, Juniper pulled me into the ladies’ room with her. She eyed me suspiciously while I inspected the graffiti from the 1980s on the walls.

“So are you going to tell me what’s up with you?” she asked, reapplying her lipstick. Juniper was nothing if not direct.

“Nothing.”

She pinned me with a sharp look. “Nope. Not buying it. You’re different somehow. I can tell. And you are clearly struggling with something. It’s written all over your face.”

She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed with me. “Out with it,” she demanded. “The waffle fries I ordered are probably ready.”

“I’m fine,” I promised. “Let’s go.”

“Eliza, you’re not fooling me. I really don’t want to have to beat it out of you; this is a new outfit.” She gestured to the very expensive looking designer tracksuit she was wearing. She managed to walk the line between sporty and high end with enviable precision.

“Juniper!”

“I’m serious.” She adjusted her choker.

“I went out with Matteo on Friday night.”

She tapped a foot, indicating to move things along.

“And we slept together.”

“And? That can’t be it. Was it bad? Why are you being so weird right now?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I couldn’t keep the messy tangle of thoughts in my head for one minute longer.

“It was epic. I had so much fun talking to him. We connected and then we had incredible sex and then he took me home and everything got weird. He told me he didn’t want a relationship and it was humiliating and horrible. ”

“That motherfucker.”

“And it’s not like I want to marry the guy, but we had such an amazing time, I kind of thought it was going to go somewhere.

And he acted like he was so into me and then he just got so cold so fast. And I feel terrible and stupid and ashamed.

And I can’t stop thinking about him, and I want to go over there and slap his handsome face and then maybe kiss him. Or go home and eat a lot of ice cream.”

“Breathe, Eliza!”

Her sharp command stopped my word vomit.

“You’re spiraling.”

“Of course I’m spiraling. I can’t handle this. This is why I always kept things casual. Low risk of rejection. Do you have any idea how much it hurts for you to put yourself out there, get to know someone, and then have him say no thanks after the best sex of your life? Cause it’s terrible.”

“Please stop talking.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, and I’m sure I had given her a migraine with my insane rambling. “Just know this. He is missing out. You are fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Thank you.”

She held up a hand. “I’m not finished. I’m proud of you.

You went after what you wanted. Yes, it didn’t work out, but you pushed yourself out of your comfort zone and you felt and experienced new things.

That’s called personal growth, babe. So I know it hurts, but you have nothing to be ashamed of.

You are the brave one here. He’s a fucking coward. ”

“Wow, thanks for the love.” For Juniper this was downright effusive.

“So fix your face and get your ass back out there. You are going to have a great time and then go home and cry or eat ice cream or do whatever you want because you’ve earned it.

But don’t let that fuck boy ruin your night.

Or fuck man, actually, because he’s too old to be a fuck boy. Anyway, you know what I mean.”

She headed toward the door, leaving me standing there. “You’re growing, my friend. It’s not easy and it’s not fun. But it’s better than stagnating.”

I took a few moments to compose myself before heading back to my friends.

Juniper’s words rang around in my head. I spent all this time erecting mental barriers in my head, analyzing and perseverating over everyone and everything.

My insecurities had gotten the best of me, and I placed the blame on myself.

But I hadn’t done anything wrong. I put myself out there, took a chance, and was brave.

This was a him problem, not a me problem. I had nothing to be ashamed about.

I walked back out, standing a little taller, and met Matteo’s eye. I gave him a warm, genuine smile and then headed back to my friends. If he drew conclusions about Ryan and me, so be it. Served him right.

Before I could even formulate a plan, Ryan sat down next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders. I could feel Matteo’s glare.

“How have you been, Liza?” I cringed. I hated that nickname and had told him a dozen times.

“Fine.”

He then launched into some lame story about heading to New York with some buddies to go clubbing, and I completely tuned him out. How did I sleep with this guy? How did I ever think he was worth my time? Juniper was right; I was growing. And it wasn’t comfortable or easy, but it was necessary.

There was no connection between Ryan and me. Nothing below the surface. I didn’t want to spend hours talking to him and learning everything about him. Ryan was just a guy who was always up for a good time, nothing else.

I’ve never talked to him about the challenges I was having at the hospital. I never talked to him about my parents, my goals, anything really.

We watched TV, went drinking with our friends, and had sex. Not even good sex.

Listening to him drone on and on about video games, I realized something.

I was ready for more. Or at least to try for more.

I could grow and change and evolve if I wanted to.

And if Matteo didn’t want that, then he could go fuck himself.

Because I was worthy of someone who wanted me as much as I wanted him, someone who would make time for me, someone who wasn’t too chickenshit to be with me.

And I hoped that someday I would find him.