mentally, i'm here

The first time I brought it up, I was with Lacy, my roommate and volleyball teammate. 

“Is your boyfriend invited or is this more of a solo adventure?” She coaxed. 

She’d once told me she thought I was spending a lot of time with Jeremiah and that I should do more things on my own to figure out what I actually liked, implying that being in a relationship was somehow stopping me from getting the full college experience. 

I now realize that was a little bit true. Despite never missing a victory party with the Otters, Finch’s volleyball team, every other time, instead of hanging out with them, I went off with Jeremiah and his fraternity siblings. Their company wasn’t bad at all. Most of the time, I enjoyed their parties, but I didn’t have a real friendship with my volleyball teammates, other than with Lacy. And now, that was gone too. 

Once my loans got approved, Jeremiah and I started looking at our options. London was too expensive, there was no way of surviving Spain with our Spanish speaking level. France sounded great, but there was no point in going if we were just going to take the classes in English. Regular classes in French weren’t available unless we wanted to take French language. So we decided on Dublin, Ireland.

Walsh University fit us like a glove. Their sports program was perfect for me; I could join their volleyball team, the Puffins, and my class schedule would be made based on my training hours. Not to mention, their Sports Management syllabus is great. 

Their on-campus housing meant I’d be rooming with another athlete, but Jeremiah and I wanted to take the leap and see what it would be like to live together. We called different places, recommended by our friends, Global Ed, and did our own research until we found an apartment at a ten-minute walking-distance from campus. It belongs to an eighty year-old man who just moved to a retirement home and was looking for tenants. He and his son gave us a virtual tour and sent us the floor plan. Jeremiah and I didn’t care about the size because we would only sleep and have breakfast and dinner there. 

Since the breakup though, I tried finding another apartment, and applying for on-campus housing, but nothing worked with my budget. I would have to take a bigger loan and work more hours to pay off either of those options, which means I wouldn’t have enough time for practice or class. 

So now, I’m staring at my open suitcase, wondering how much longer I can put this off.

“Belly, it’s time.”

Apparently not long enough.

I sigh, scanning my suitcase one last time to make sure I packed everything I need.

Steven stands at my door. He looks down at his watch and taps the door again. 

“Tick tock.”

My body topples over the suitcase and I grunt as I zip it shut. I draw in a deep breath and pull the luggage to the floor. I grab the handle, shake my hair away from my face. I tell my brother, “Let’s go.”

I haul the suitcase down the stairs and go to the kitchen, where Mom is writing. She hops off the chair and squeezes me in a hug. “Take care of yourself, Belly,” she says, her eyes watery. “Call me as soon as you get there.” 

I nod before walking back into her arms. When we pull apart, Mom wipes away the tears from her eyes and smiles. I smile back and leave for the car. 

Steven puts on his playlist and I lean my head on the window and close my eyes, hoping it is enough of a signal that I don’t want to talk. He spares me a few glances in the short drive and I can feel the question burning in his eyes. Are you okay? I’m glad he doesn’t ask me because I don’t have to tell him the truth: I don’t know anymore.

On one hand, I am excited about leaving home, being away from everyone I know and start fresh. I want to make the starting lineup, meet new people, and explore. But on the other hand, I don’t want to see Jeremiah, or the awkwardness that comes with sitting next to him on a plane for seven hours, or the conversation we eventually have to have about our sleeping arrangements… and everything else. It all feels like too much too soon. After all, we’ve only been broken up for two months.

“We’re here,” Steven says. He turns on his flashing lights and parks on the drop off curve of the airport. 

“Thanks,” I breathe out. I unbuckle my seatbelt and rush out of the car. 

Steven opens the trunk and gets out too. He helps me getting my suitcase out and looks at me. 

“Are you going to be okay?” 

I bite my lip. How am I supposed to answer that? I don’t know if I’m going to be okay. The situation with Jeremiah isn’t ideal, but I figure that with volleyball, our jobs and classes, we won’t spend much time together. It will make things easier. That’s what I tell myself anyway.

When I don’t answer, Steven crosses his arms and looks at me seriously. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you and Jere, but after this summer, I know it didn’t end on good terms.”

I breathe in sharply. I didn’t tell anyone the reason Jeremiah and I broke up. That was the main reason I spent most of the summer sleeping at Taylor’s house. She’s the only one who knows what happened. I spent two weeks lying in bed, sometimes crying myself to sleep. Mom asked me what happened but I didn’t want to talk. I was still inexplicably protective of Jeremiah. I didn’t want to prove her right because I heard what she said. How Jeremiah was just a phase. How she liked Conrad better because he was more responsible, less of a party boy. How his future was much clearer than Jeremiah’s just because he wants to be a doctor. And even though I would never go back to Conrad, I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being right. Jeremiah wasn’t a phase; he was my best friend. And then he broke my heart. 

Part of me wants to believe we will find our way back to each other, even if it’s only as friends. But I don’t know. The wound is still fresh. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Steven goes on. “I just need to know that you’re going to be okay. Four months is a long time to live with someone you’re not in good terms with.”

“I know. Don’t worry about me. I’ll fine,” I reassure myself more than him. 

He pulls me in for a hug. Then, his hands squeeze my shoulders and he says, “You guys just need to talk. But if he isn’t smart enough to fix what he broke, and you can’t stand another day, I’ll pay for your ticket back myself.” 

My eyes burn with tears and I nod. “Thank you.”

He smiles, shuts the trunk and get back in the driver’s seat. I wave goodbye and turn around to go to check-in. 

I pass security, triple-check the gate and walk over to it with my backpack on.  

A breath catches in my throat when I spot him. Blonde curls a few inches longer than my own. He’s wearing gold-rimmed glasses and some stubble on his chin and mustache. I wipe away the tear threatening to roll down. I’m frozen in place. 

I want to hide and avoid him until we have to be face to face, but just as I’m about to turn around and sit somewhere he can’t see me, he looks up. He’s chewing on a sandwich. His brows pull together as he notices my haircut, a bob. Then his lips stretch into a tight-lipped smile and he waves another sandwich. I sit next to him. 

“Thanks,” I choke out, unwrapping the sub. 

He nods as he eats the last of his sandwich. He wipes his hands on his pants, his eyes fixed on the floor. He takes a deep breath, “So how was the rest of your summer?”

I kink up a brow. “Listen, we don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do the awkward small talk.” 

Jeremiah lifts up his hands as if to surrender. “Okay. Awkward silence is fine with me.”