Page 94 of SnowBound

22

ANDERSON

Imet Joe and some of our friends in a brewery next to the campus. “How did it go?” my friend asked.

I shrugged. “As good as you think it went.” I took a seat at the rectangular table. The aroma of chicken wings, fresh bread, and stall beer filled my nose. I grabbed the wooden slate having the menu strapped to it by a large silicon band and read through the page. “What are we having?”

“I already ordered a pitcher,” said Thomas, a senior old enough to buy us beer.

“And they should bring three mix platters until we’re ready to order,” Mike, a guy in one of my classes, said. “Wings, bruschetta, potato skins, cheese sticks, and a bunch of other stuff. I think we’re covered for a while.”

Joe kicked my foot under the table as I sank back into my chair and asked, “What happened?”

“Oh, that? Yes. She wasn’t happy about it. Said I was acting like chickenshit and she’d agreed to our little arrangement all semester because she thought I would get tired of it and return to my senses.”

“Harsh.”

With a dismissive shake of my head, I continued. “I’ve been acting like a jerk. Bethany has been nothing but patient, and I kept pushing her away. I wouldn’t have been happy with myself either if I were her. Anyway, it’s over.”

Joe offered me a small smile. “Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It’s all on me. It was about time I cut her loose. Since the fall semester is over and she’s going home for winter break, I hope she realizes she’s better off without me.”

“Did my dad contact you for his office party?”

“About the change of venue and date?”

He nodded.

“Yeah. It’s a bit last minute, but since I hadn’t booked anything else for that weekend, it’s all good. It’s just—”

My friend studied my reaction. As if he could read my mind. “How do you feel about it?”

I flicked my wrist to dismiss him.

“Andy. Be real. How do you feel about going back there?”

“It’s fine. Don’t make a big deal about it, and I won’t.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay then. Did you change your mind about going home for the Holidays?”

“I talked to my mom last night. I said I’d come for a few days. It doesn’t mean I’m over the lies and fuck-ups my parents fed me over the years. It’s just that I can’t stand the idea of her being all alone at this time of the year.”

“I’m sure Mama Ford meant no harm. You should let her explain. Could be beneficial for both of you.”

“One day. When I’m ready. She promised that he wouldn’t pay us a surprise visit, so we’ll see. Can we change the topic? That last test was a bitch, and I’m starving.”

As if summoned by my growling stomach, the server returned with our beer and food. For the rest of the night, the conversation stayed clear of my personal business as the guys chatted about the night’s party, the upcoming vacations, and the girls they had banged in the last few weeks. A more than welcome distraction.

* * *

Sitting in the same airport café I did one year ago, I studied each passenger coming and going from the terminal. Nobody knew I had planned to spend two days in the airport before boarding a plane to Tennessee. I had come up with the idea during Thanksgiving when I chose to stay in New York instead of flying back home. Drunk and alone in the living room watching reruns of reality shows I had no interest in, I chastised myself for not flying to Silverville and camping in the airport in case some girl with jet-black hair and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen had the same idea.

That was the night I also decided I should break up with Bethany. I just had to wait a little until she was done with her exams because no way would I mess with her commitment and focus by dumping her. The last thing I wished for was to bring additional anxiety into her life. I knew how stressful the dance degree could be.

Here I was, three days before Christmas, ready to spend my night boosted on too much caffeine just in case Abby happened to be here too.

If she didn’t, I promised myself I would forget her this time around. No relapses. Let go of her in my mind. The last time I tried, my newfound purpose only lasted a short while. Not this time, though. I had to move on because I’d go stir-crazy if I didn’t.