Chapter 24 Jesse

S leep was becoming a menace. Every time I drifted off, I thought of another thing to say to Sam that was obviously the best reason to give this thing between us a shot. I almost texted them to her in real-time, but I'd at least had the presence of mind to know that would probably come across as desperate and not endearing.

This was the reason for me having been on my third cup of coffee at 7:30am, hoping that no one would care if I took a nap under my desk at some point. I didn't know if Sam was working today, so I was trying to hold off on calling to make plans to talk. Sooner would be better than later, because I knew her, and she was going to be persuaded by our history that this was a bad idea the longer she sat with it. I at least needed the chance to get out my side of the whole thing.

Walking the aisles of the store, I jumped at any task I could to pass the time. Still, when I looked at the clock, it was only 8:30.

Fuck it.

I was just going to risk waking her up and being completely transparent. The moment I opened my texts, a new one arrived.

SAM: Hey. You in the mood to have an awkward conversation in which we discuss events that happened over half a decade ago? Or are you normal...

Oh, thank god.

JESSE: Sounds like the best time ever. I'm at the store, but I can meet you once Heather gets here at 9.

SAM : I knew there was something wrong with you. Broomsticks at 9:15?

JESSE: Done

Immediately, I began looking for things to keep my mind busy, and this consisted of refilling the nickels in the registers because they looked a little low. Our new hire wasn't on the schedule until the afternoon, but I made a mental note to check in with Heather about him when she got there.

And then follow that up with "I have to leave to dissect a sort of breakup from six years ago."

With all the business cards on the "Community Bulletin Board" now sufficiently organized, I breathed a sigh of relief at Heather's "Morning!" from the area of the break room. She gave me a full update on Bryan, and he seemed to be doing well.

No thanks to you , I admitted, having been preoccupied the past couple of weeks with getting the new logo on everything and having shirts printed. And Sam.

Blessedly, Heather only gave me a grin when I said I needed to meet Sam for a quick graphic design meeting and would be back shortly.

Why are all the reasons that popped up last night now gone?

What exactly was I going to say now that my brain was devoid of rational thought?

Going to have to wing it.

I parked and walked as confidently as I could with a slight limp up to the shop. The many laps around Garrett's probably weren't the best plan. She turned around as the bell chimed, eyes wide, and all traces of the joking tone from her texts gone.

"Hey," I started, taking in her appearance and searching for clues. She had on a long black skirt and a bright blue sweater, which made her eyes look sparkly. I started to tell her so before she spoke and interrupted the thought.

"Hey. Let's go to the back, yeah?"

She flipped the Be Back in 10 Minutes sign on the front door. Her voice was soft, and the worry I'd been suppressing wrapped its way around my gut and squeezed. I liked the sarcastic Sam much better. This was terrifying. My feet followed her in her swingy skirt and pulled-back curls until we were tucked into her aunt's office, though it looked less like hers and more like Sam's now—things were labeled and organized on the desk.

I stopped looking around the room and focused on her, feeling both too close and too far away, standing in the tiny room without touching her.

"I have a Cancer Venus, Jesse. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Of all the things I thought she might say, that was not one of them.

"I have absolutely no idea what that means."

She sighed, looking anywhere but at me. "It means that in my brain, I'm like the neediest, clingiest girl ever when I like someone. It's the worst because who wants that? No one. No one wants the girl who thinks about what your last name sounds like with hers on your first date. It's creepy, and I get that. And yet, I can't stop it. I also have a Capricorn Moon, and I can't begin to explain to you how much my own thoughts make me cringe."

I tilted my head, swallowing when my first thought was to put together Samantha Garrett in my head, and some deep recess of my mind thought that sounded spectacular.

Maybe I have this cancer of Venus, too.

"I'm so sorry, Sam, I'm just not following."

"I know. That's because I'm making no fucking sense. Ugh. I'm sorry."

She was pacing, and that was a bad sign, especially in a room where she could only take three steps in one direction. I moved toward her and caught her mid-step with my hands on her arms, silently asking her to talk to me. She looked up, and I almost abandoned the whole talking thing because she was so close, and it would be so much easier to lean down and kiss her.

"When we were together, before, I was... you were everything, Jesse. To an embarrassing degree, considering we only hooked up, or whatever you want to call it, for like a month."

She was keeping her voice even, and I left my hands resting on her arms, afraid that if I moved, she'd stop talking.

"And I knew it was doomed when it started, and I told myself not to go there, but I did anyway, and I thought you did too. And I get I wasn't fair to you that night. I ran at the first sign that you didn't feel the same as me, or at least not with the same intensity, which is fine—I'm just trying to get this out—but when it seemed like my worries were correct, it just felt so much safer to cut you out altogether."

"Sam, I did— "

"Nope! Not yet!" She raised her hand and put it over my mouth mid-sentence. I rolled my eyes, but I let her finish. "And now we're here, and we've been working well together, but last night was... it felt serious. And I just need to know what's different this time. Because I'm the same. Even a little more neurotic and lost now than I was then, so what's changed for you? Or maybe nothing has changed, and I'd like to know that too, because I can't do a casual thing. Not with you."

She was breathing hard, like the words had taken a physical toll on her to get out. I didn't know that I'd ever heard her say so much without an ounce of sarcasm, and that made me tread lightly. I put my finger under her chin to bring her eyes back up to mine after they'd drifted during her monologue.

"I was crazy about you then. I had all the feelings." I didn't look away from her because I really needed her to understand this. "Sam... I... I don't know exactly what made everything fall apart when we were eighteen, but I am happy to own my role in it. There were so many things I should have done better. I thought I knew what I was doing, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. I was just figuring myself out and trying to impress you, and I wanted you so badly that I cringe thinking about how I came across because you deserved better."

"I don't understand."

"What don't you understand? I'll explain anything you want."

Please just don't move.

"Why did you thank me for helping you get through your summer, get over Christy, if you wanted it to be more than the summer? You made it sound like you were okay with it being a fling—and honestly, that shouldn't have been a surprise to me, but it killed me because I was so in over my head with you."

I flinched at her words, hating that I caused her pain.

"Sam, I can promise you I suck at words. Moreso then than now because, well, therapy, right? But I was not trying to make any sort of relationship-defining statement when I said that to you." She stepped out of my grasp, and I was worried she'd start pacing again, but she stayed put, a confused expression on her face.

"But I asked you specifically what you pictured with us, and you had no answer. If you had ‘all the feelings,' then why didn't you just say that?" Her voice was getting tighter the longer this conversation went on, and it didn't feel like a good sign.

"Sam. This is going to sound like the worst explanation, but when you asked me what I pictured, my head went to like, end game. Like did I want to get married and have a picket fence and two point five kids. At that moment, I was terrified I was losing you, and I didn't know that saying, ‘Hey, it would be cool to keep talking and see if this goes anywhere because I might be falling in love with you,' was an acceptable answer. And after I left, and you wouldn't answer, saying that felt like such a half-assed offering when I'd clearly hurt you. I—I don't know what else to say about the fact that I just didn't communicate what I felt or what I wanted well. Or at all."

She shook her head like she was trying to clear it. Her eyes were wide.

"You were back with Christy practically before I'd crossed the state line. If you are seriously saying you thought you might be falling in love with me, then how could you go right back to her? I fully admit that I overreacted to your words that night. No question. But I couldn't have just been with someone else a week later. When I found out you were... it confirmed everything for me—that you had just been using me to pass the time." Anger swept into her voice like a wave, and I felt her slipping through my fingers.

"It was weeks of you not taking my calls. You wouldn't even talk to Lauren, and I didn't know how to fix it—"

"It was eight days."

My brows raised at that. "What was eight days?"

"From the time I left until you were back with Christy. I left eight days before school started, not weeks. Were you not with her when you went back for classes?"

"I—" I didn't have a crystal-clear memory of my relationship with Christy because it spanned so many years. But I remembered her making a comment about how it seemed right that we would start senior year back together and that the summer apart had been silly . I came back to the present, and Sam was staring at me with an expression that held both hurt and patience. It was becoming clear why she'd held onto some of this for so long.

"I'm so sorry, Sam. In my mind, it felt like forever that you'd shut me out. I am such an asshole."

"Well, I thought so too," she replied, a small grin tugging at her lips.

Maybe all is not lost, I thought.

"But I think it might at least be fair to use the past tense. Can you still tell me why?"

I let out a breath. I would do whatever I could to not still be an asshole.

"That summer," I started, trying to gather my thoughts, "I felt lost when Christy broke up with me after four years. I hadn't really experienced any of my teen life without being attached to her. But you were this girl that I had to be near, Sam. With you, I felt like I was my own person for the first time, probably ever. And when it all fell like a house of cards, that felt worse than when Christy dumped me because it was the real me that had fucked it up, you know? I couldn't blame it on anything else."

Sam just nodded like what I was saying at least resonated a little.

"When she showed up that weekend before school started and wanted to pick up like nothing had ever happened, I felt like maybe I could salvage some part of that old image of myself because the new one had failed. That's a whole other tangled web of shit that my therapist has had to untangle, okay? But please believe that you were never just a fling to me. And I can't even believe I'm going to say this because you're going to tell me it's such a cheesy rom-com line, but you've always been magic, Sam."

I swallowed, now realizing how long I'd been talking and that her eyes hadn't left mine once. I tugged at my hair on the back of my neck out of nervous habit, begging her to say something.