5. Savannah

Chapter 5

Savannah

Nixon: Please?

The ache filling my chest intensifies a little more. I don't know why talking to Nixon brings back all the pain of what he did. We were never in a relationship past friendship, but I'd always wanted more. One day we were completely fine, we were writing letters back and forth, and talking to each other as much as we could on the phone. But then, all communication just stopped.

I had no clue if Nixon was dead or alive. It was weeks before I found out Nixon was injured. I had to call Mrs. Russo and beg her for information. She told me he was alive, but got hurt. I wasn't given anything else. She said Nixon didn't want me to know.

That was the biggest betrayal of all. He didn't want me, his best friend, to know what was happening to him. He kept me in the dark. He kicked me out of his life without a second thought. There were no more letters. No more late-night phone calls. Nothing.

The grief I felt was unlike anything else. I never got closure, just one day he was gone from my life and no matter how hard I tried to contact him, he kept me at a distance.

I was a sophomore in high school when Nixon was a senior. I'll never forget how he was the star of the football team. He grew several inches over the summer before his senior year and was lifting weights every day. He went from a boy to a man in the course of three months and all the girls were begging for his attention.

Nixon didn't care at all. Every day after school, he'd throw his arm around my shoulders and lead me to his car. He ignored every girl who called his name or tried to talk to him. He'd take me to the lake and we'd skip rocks or sit on the shore and talk until it was time for dinner.

Nixon came over for dinner almost every night. His mom was constantly traveling and his dad was often away on assignments in the military. I fully believe he only joined the military to make his dad proud.

After a few weeks of practically begging Nixon through voicemail and letters to talk to me, I just gave up. He made it clear we were no longer friends by keeping me in the dark.

Mom pushed me to not give up on him. She spoke to Mrs. Russo a few times a month and offered updates on Nixon, but I didn't want to hear any of it. If he didn't want me in his life, I didn't want to know a single thing about him. There was no fixing what Nixon broke between us. I had no clue why he was pushing me out of his life, I just knew I didn't matter to him anymore.

Just hearing his name would make my chest ache and my eyes water. Every time he was brought up, I'd make an excuse and quickly leave the room.

My parents always considered Nixon a son. I swear if they could've gotten custody of him, they probably would've adopted him for real. Nixon was at our house more than he was at his own when we were younger. After he left for boot camp, my house felt empty and quiet. I never felt so alone in my entire life.

Now, getting all these texts from him, I don't know what to think. I don't know how I'm supposed to react. But right this second, the ache is getting worse, the feelings from high school are back. I'm still the nerd I was then, but I have no clue who Nixon is now.

Scrolling back through the pictures he sent, a smile spreads over my lips. No matter how he treated me at the end, Nixon will always be a part of every good memory I have from my childhood. If I forgot all the ones he was part of, there would be very few left. My childhood would be empty.

Sav: Would I be spending the day with the Nixon in these photos or the one who turned his back on me and never spoke to me again?

Typing out those words makes the ache in my chest get even sharper. We had deep, honest conversations all the time. He was the person I told all my secrets to. The one I shared everything with. And after he was gone, I had no one.

I went through the rest of high school without any close friends. I always had someone to sit with at lunch or to go to the movies with, but I never had another friend like Nixon.

When I got to college, I found Devon. She was the closest thing to Nixon I've ever had, but it's not the same. My friendship with Nixon was… more. It was everything.

Nixon: I deserve that. The Nixon in those photos is the only one left. The other version died the day he left Pebble Creek.

Savvy: One day, Nixon. Nothing more.

Nixon: One day, then we'll revisit the topic?

Savvy: You're impossible.

Nixon: It's called strong willed and persistence.

Nixon: Can I call you?

Savvy: Uh… Do people still do that?

Nixon: Answer the phone, Savvy.

I barely have time to read the text and my phone is ringing. I contemplate not answering. I don't owe him anything, but that isn't who I am. I'm nice. I'm the girl you can royally screw over and I'll still smile every time I see you.

And I'm a sucker when it comes to Nixon Russo.

Sucking in a sharp breath and blowing it out slowly, I press accept, holding the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Damn, Savvy. I didn't think you were going to answer." Nixon's voice is so much deeper than it was the last time we spoke. It's gravelly yet smooth. It's the type of voice you could listen to for hours, the perfect one for an audiobook narrator.

"Well… I did," I whisper, unsure of what else I'm supposed to say.

"How's school?"

"Good. Only a few more weeks and I'm done."

"That's good. I'm glad." He's quiet for a few seconds and an awkward silence descends over us. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't the relationship we had.

"Are we really doing this shit?" I sigh.

"What shit?" I can hear the frown in his voice. I'm sure his brows are pulled together and if I were sitting in front of him, he'd be staring deep into my eyes.

"This superficial small talk. That's never been us, are we really going to do this?" I move through my apartment and find the small box I have in my closet of things from our childhood.

"I hate small talk. I just… I don't know how to go back to the deep shit."

"I don't know… maybe you can start by telling me what happened. Why'd you push me away?" I know I'm being mean, but I don't know how I'm supposed to act. I want my best friend back. The one staring at me from the top picture in this box.

"Dammit, Savvy. I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I want to explain all of it to you, but I want to do it in person. When you come home, I promise."

"You hurt me a lot, Nixon." I trail my fingers over his smiling face and think back to the day this picture was captured.

"I know I did and I'll never stop regretting my choices and actions, but I'm back. I want us to go back to how things used to be."

"I'm not sure I can ever trust you like that again," I whisper, the weight of my words falling hard.

We're silent for a few minutes. I'd wonder if he hung up, except I can hear his soft breaths on the other side of the line.

"I understand… Please don't write us off, not yet. One day, Savvy, just one day."

"Only one." I repeat what I already texted him.

"One to start with… What did you major in?"

"Oh, you didn't ask Mom? I thought you two were all buddy-buddy."

"Sav, I only asked for your number. I wanted to talk to you, I didn't want to talk to her about you."

My thoughts drift to my conversation with Mom, she never once mentioned anything about Nixon other than him asking for my number.

"Business with a minor in accounting. What about you?"

"Software engineering with a minor in accounting."

"That's… odd."

"Yeah, I know. I was planning on accounting, but after I took my first computer course, I loved it. I switched to software engineering but didn't want to abandon the accounting aspect."

"Wow, you sound nerdy," I tease.

"You've always sounded nerdy." His deep chuckle fills the line. "How long until you come home?"

"Four days."

"I'll be counting them down."

"Can you count that high?" I smirk.

"Why do you think I studied accounting? Someone needed to teach me how."

A smile graces my lips, but it quickly falls. I can't let Nixon back in, I can't handle losing him all over again.

"I need to go. I have to study for an accounting test."

"Oh, ok… Can I call you tomorrow?" Disappointment is clear in his voice. He wanted to talk to me longer. As much as I'd like that, I need to keep distance between us. Nixon's a distraction I can't afford when I'm so close to reaching my goals.

"I guess. Bye, Nixon."

"Bye, Savvy."

The rest of the night, I don't study. I don't do anything except flip through the pictures Nixon sent me and wonder if the boy in those pictures is really back in my life. And if he is, is he here to stay or is he just passing through.