But Not Quite

Skye

It’s one of those perfect days that you will remember forever even though very little actually happened. Drew and I walk aimlessly down the boardwalk, hand in hand. We have one of those deep conversations that can only come from knowing someone for most of your life.

As it turns out, Drew and his father got into it this morning. Cameron caught Drew getting ready for our truant escapade and they “nearly came to blows”. Accounting for Drew’s typical melodrama, this means that they had exchanged some harsh words. There may even have been some cussing.

Come to think of it, I could kind of almost hear screaming from my bedroom, but that’s not really an uncommon occurrence in my house.

“All this time, he’s just been ragging on me because he thought I was wasting my life,” Drew says incredulously, shaking his head.

I stop walking and turn to look at him. “Babe, does that really surprise you?” I ask. “After all that your parents have done for you, to try and get you back on track after... everything last summer, are you really surprised that they’re worried about you?”

Drew sighs and looks down at his feet. “I guess not,” he says softly, scuffing his toe against the wooden boards. “I have been a bit of a mess lately.”

We wander for a little bit longer until we reach a particular bench. I’m not sure if Drew brought me here on purpose, or if he even remembers the significance of this spot, but this is where I realized he had a problem. Some genius on the track team had decided to throw a beach party right around here, and naturally, Drew and I went together. This was the first time that I noticed how violently jealous Drew became when he’d been drinking. I had asked Jason to hold my beer while I retied my shoe, but instead of taking the beer like I had asked, that idiot retied my shoe for me. Drew almost ripped his head off, and started yelling in French at Jason to that effect. Once he regained enough cool to stop yelling and making a scene, Drew stormed off in the direction of the water and went missing until the next morning, where I found him asleep on this bench where we now stop to rest.

“Skye, I have to tell you something,” Drew says, taking my left hand in both of his. “I just got my acceptance letter from Ryerson for Architectural Science.” He isn’t exactly smiling, but his eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them.

I kiss him, and the smile that was threatening to break across his face finally does. “That’s awesome, Drew! I didn’t even know you had applied there. When did you even do their weird assessment thing?”

He shrugs, and says that it was over March break when I had been working at the diner 24/7. Drew pulls something out of his back pocket and hands it to me.

I unfold the piece of paper and see that it’s a sketch. More specifically, it’s a sketch of me. I stare at it for a long moment, trying to remember when I had sat for this portrait because it clearly wasn’t drawn based on a photo. I look worried and sad and angry and hurt and desperate and so so in love. Read: nothing I would ever let anyone capture forever of my own volition.

“I drew it when I was in the Sault last summer,” he says softly. “This is what you looked like the last time I saw you before I left.”

A tear comes to my eyes but I blink it away. This isn’t the moment yet for that. “Before or after you broke up with me for not letting you be happy?”

“After, but the only reason I’m showing you this is because the evaluator said that this was by far my best piece and that it could be in an art show.” He scoffs a little and adds “I wanted to give it to you instead.”

Then I really do burst into tears and start blubbering against his shoulder. I got my own acceptance letter this morning. Queen’s University offered me a free ride scholarship guaranteed for two years, where I would only have to pay my housing. I have always known that this was my school, but I had never actually considered the full implications.

Drew wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing my back. “The distance won’t be an issue, I promise.” How this boy knows what he does is beyond me, but I’m grateful all the same.

Some time later, I’m able to collect myself and we head home. I have to work tonight and Drew has decided that he can’t bear to be without me so he’s going to come and just hang out. This is something he used to do in the very early days of our relationship last year, before he had even really admitted to liking me. He would say that he had nowhere else to be, and that no one else in Roxborough made coffee like they do at JoJo’s.

I’m working the dining room by myself tonight because it’s Wednesday and slow anyways. Audrey has a dance competition tonight or something and can’t come in. Joanna has put Drew to work and is having him unload the newest shipment of whatever in the back. I can tell that he’s watching me more than working, but every once in a while he catches me looking over at him and pulls a grotesque face, which strangely enough only makes him more attractive.

This continues for a few hours until the front door swings open with a crash, rattling all the windows. I look up from the ancient coffee maker to see Tara glowering at me from across the counter. “Hi, can I help you...?” I venture, completely unsure as to why she would show up here. It’s nowhere near our neighbourhood, the only reason I’ve continued to work here besides getting to see Audrey all the time.

“Damn right, you can fucking help me, you bitch!” Tara hisses. “Why in the fuck couldn’t you just leave Hunter alone?”

I look around, checking to see if Joanna or Joe is within hearing range. They’re not used to this kind of drama being caused by their patrons; I’m hoping one of them will show up to throw her out. I’ve never seen anyone so belligerent. “I’m sorry, what is this about? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because my own fucking boyfriend won’t take me to prom because of you! He’s convinced that you’re going to be all over him like the pathetic fucking stalker you are. Pretending to be dating Drew Ross in order to make him ‘take you back’ – that’s a new low, even for you! You make me sick, Connors. Hunter Barrington is my boyfriend, and he always was so just go fuck yourself and quit ruining my life! ”

I’m so flabbergasted by this; I can only stand there with my eyebrows raised. “Listen, Tara, I’m really sorry about the whole thing with Hunter. I was just going through some stuff, I realize that I went way over the top-”

Tara doesn’t let me finish. “I don’t want your fucking fake apologies, Skye, I know what’s really going on. That little anorexic bitch friend of Drew’s told me all about it. I know he’s fucking paying you to pretend to date you. She even fucking showed me the contract he signed about it!” This admission appears to be way too much for Tara. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, pushing her bangs off her face. Visibly more composed, she tells me “Listen, just don’t fucking come to prom, and I won’t tell anyone about your little arrangement. But I swear to God, Skye, if I see either of you there I will tell everyone that’s anyone that Cameron Ross’s son paid you to fuck him and I won’t stop until the both of you are ruined.”

The threat hangs in the air until I hear Joanna clear her throat behind me. Both she and Drew are standing in the kitchen doorway looking shell-shocked. “I think it’s time you left, sugar.” Joanna says to Tara dryly. “And don’t bother to come back, you hear?”

Tara rolls her eyes, turns on her heel and storms out of the diner. The cheerful jingle of the bell seems totally out of place after the whole debacle. I start to feel a little light-headed, and before I know it, Drew catches me before I hit the sticky linoleum floor.

“That’s okay, babe, I didn’t really want to go to prom anyways,” he says lightly, though I can see gears turning. Something tells me we were going to stop and have a little chat with Jaeden Tan on our way home tonight.