After All

Chapter Seventeen

            "What's this?" Ryan asked a few weeks later. We were studying together, as it was the only opportunity we had to see each other recently. Between his lacrosse practices, my time in the studio, classes, and what seemed like an endless amount of homework, our time together was limited. There was nothing I could do about it, but I didn't like it. Our time apart only fed my uncertainty over the future.

I looked down at the papers in his hand and I practically swallowed my tongue. A copy of my application to SVA. "Oh, umm, I meant to tell you about that."

"You applied to the School of Visual Arts again?" he asked in a tone I couldn't quite place.

"Yeah, they sent a transfer application to my parents' house, and my mom sent it up to me. If I get in, I would start there in the fall." I rushed through the words, wanting to have this conversation over before it even began.

"When did you send it in?"

"A few weeks ago."

"Oh."

I couldn't quite tell what Ryan was thinking. But before I could wait for his opinion, I got angry. He should be excited for me. This was my dream. I was clear on all of this from the start. I didn't want a guy to get between me and my aspirations. This shouldn't be something he even had to think about. Obviously I was blinded by an unfounded anger, because if he was hesitating, then he was only feeling the exact same things I did when I received the application.

I ripped the papers from his hands, "You always knew this was my dream. I shouldn't have to explain anything to you."

"Lily, I'm just surprised. I had no idea this was even an option. I just need a little time to process," he defended.

"Well, why don't you go do that in your own room?" I turned my back to him and started typing away on my computer.

"Lily," he pleaded. "Please. Don't push me away. No running from this."

I heard the desperation in his voice, but couldn't bring myself to turn around. I knew he was confused and hurt, but I needed to make sure he knew I was putting my dreams first. If he couldn't handle that, then maybe we shouldn't be together.

"I'm not running," I said finally, my voice defeated. "You're the one who's going to walk away this time."

Ryan stood behind me for what felt like hours. I could practically hear the silent thoughts tumbling around in his head. I clenched my fists tightly together, digging my fingernails into my palms, trying to stay strong in my silence. I needed him to leave before all my strength seeped out and I turned around and ran into his arms, which always brought me so much comfort.

Eventually a sigh deep from Ryan's chest hit my ears. Without another word, he grabbed his books off the bed and walked out of the room. The slam of the door resounded out in the silence, breaking my heart.

***

I avoided Ryan for a few days after that. It was hard, but for some reason, I felt like it was important for me to do. Ryan refused to just accept it though. He kept calling me and showing up randomly at my door. He sat outside my classes and would follow behind me until I got to my room. I'd find little gifts of flowers and new sketchpads sitting outside my door in the morning. It hurt me to see the pain in his eyes, especially when I blew him off without a real explanation. He loved me, and I loved him. I owed him more than that. But I needed time.