pink in the night ✓

09 | absolute value

June 1 2012

"Jane, hey," I called, watching as she slammed the door to her locker shut, clutching textbooks that needed to be returned closely to her chest. She perked a bit at the sound of my voice. Things were surprisingly a lot less awkward between us than I expected since I kissed her. A little too comfortable. It was almost like we were pretending like nothing ever happened at all.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"My mom wanted to invite you for dinner on Friday to kind of like, send you off to college I guess?" I told her, shrugging. "No pressure."

Her smile faded, and her gaze reverted to the crowds of people behind me chattering quietly as they made their way down the hallway. "I would but--"

"Jane and I are going bowling," Tanner interrupted, emerging behind her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Right?"

"Er--yeah," she stammered, flashing him a quick smile. He returned it, leaning in to peck her forehead.

"Oh," I managed to say, clearing my throat. "Are you guys, uh, back together?"

"Yep," Tanner confirmed, grinning ear to ear.

"I can come over on Saturday, if that's better," she offered, stealing a glance at him for approval. He nodded.

"I gotta ask my parents, but I think it should be fine," I said, clutching my binder closer to my chest.

Not gonna lie, the sight of the two of them together again, smiling like nothing ever happened, stirred my stomach for some reason.

There was no reason to be weary. Tanner is compassionate. Tanner is loyal. Tanner is thoughtful. Tanner is perfect and he could give her everything that I can't.

Except you two weren't good together and I thought you knew that.

At the time, I didn't say anything, though. I simply watched their retreating figures shrink as they walked to their next class holding hands.

***

Saturday came a lot faster than I hoped it would. Truthfully, I was dreading every second of it. During our meal, I could barely focus on anything that wasn't my plate of Pho or my milk tea. Thankfully, it didn't seem like my parents seemed to notice much. In fact, they probably didn't notice at all, because instead they grilled Jane about her plans after high school. She got into Pepperdine and was planning to attend. If I'm not mistaken, she's majoring in psychology and minoring in public health.

Maybe it's a good thing nothing ever happened between us because Tanner was going to the same college she was going to, meanwhile I planned to stay in San Francisco for the next 2 years as I attended community college.

Still, I can't say I wasn't a little bummed. Especially since I feel so...blindsided. I was under the impression that she was trying to get over him, not win him back. Wishful thinking, apparently. It's whatever. I wasn't mad. Not at all.

After I finished my food, I escaped to the kitchen, unable to withstand the awkward tension that--although subtle--seemed to be more palpable by the second. Rolling up my sleeves, I turned on the faucet, letting the water fill up a plastic bin. Suds bloated the volume, covering the tops of the dishes.

Soaking the sponge, I gently scrubbed off the grime of a pan, which was way too stubborn for my own good. I repeated the process for the remainder of the dishes: rinse, scrub, rinse again, dry with a towel, and put back perfectly in their correct place. I've never been fond of doing the dishes. It's always been my least favorite chore, but that day I was thankful that it gave me an excuse not to be in the same room as her.

Apparently I spoke too soon, because the next second she was filling the threshold, awkwardly loitering there for a while before she inhaled sharply and placed her plate on the counter next to me.

"I can wash this one," she told me, and I stepped aside to make space for her. "Thank you for dinner. It was good, as per usual. So how've you been?"

I didn't reply. Rather, I stayed quiet as I put the final dishes between the racks.

"Charm," she called, this time with more force, "answer me."

I bit my tongue and turned to leave.

"Hey," she grabbed my wrist, "you mad at me?"

As much as it pained me, I didn't have the heart to tell her that she did hurt me. A lot more than I'd like to admit. So I stayed silent.

"That's a yes then," she concluded, biting her bottom lip, "what the hell did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," I managed to croak out, "forget it."

"No," she pressed on, "tell me. I want to make this work."

Wanted to make this work? If that was true, then she wouldn't have fucked everything up in the first place. This was her fault, and I was so so tired of being overlooked because of Tanner.

"Fine. I am mad. And you wanna know why?" I snapped, unable to hold my anger back anymore "Because you lead me on for so long. Made me believe that you could love me eventually."

Her face crumpled. "Don't say that. You don't love me. You can't--"

"I don't want to be your plan b. I'm not Tanner's replacement or a second choice," I interrupted, a single tear escaping my eye. A Pandora box of despair was released in my heart. "Why can't you love me? I waited for so long. All I've ever been is good to you while he treated you like shit. What does he have that I don't? I've done everything right."

"Nothing you've done is wrong," she fired back, chest heaving, "God Charm. Can't you see? We were never supposed to be a thing. Kissing you was a mistake."

"Don't say that!"

"One day, you're going to marry that Vietnamese boy your mom always wanted you to fall in love with, and he'll be able to love you back. He won't be scared to like me. You'll forget about me--"

"I don't want that to happen," I protested, hiccuping, "I want you. No one else."

"You deserve better than me," she said, shaking her head, "you deserve someone that loves themself enough that they can give their all to you."

I wanted to tell her that she was wrong. That I was willing to try things to make it work. That she was making a horrible mistake. But the words died in my throat.

You see, the thing is, I've never believed in the idea of soulmates. Or love at first sight. Or mind blowing sparks and fireworks of passion that explode with every searing touch. Mathematically, there's no explanation for it. I believe in hard work, especially when it comes to love. Connections take time to establish, and I thought that maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could make her love me.

At that moment, I realized I couldn't.

I didn't own her. I wasn't entitled to her love or affection. Hell, I was lucky that she paid me any mind at all.

And if that meant I had to let go of this romanticized idea of her in my head so she could be free--then it was the least I could do.

That being said, I didn't regret anything. She taught me so much about life--directly and indirectly.

"Okay," I finally said, "just remember that despite everything, I still love you. And I probably always will."