So, I changed up how I was writing this thing. Also, I’ve not written anything new in months, but I do have a few chapters that I have yet to share here that I can still post before I completely run out of material. And then I’ll have to start writing again, I guess. Inspiration has been a bit lackluster. I have a lot of ideas, but a giant case of writer’s block when it comes to putting them down in complete sentences.
This chapter is one of the “past” timeline. In my documents, I have spilt the past from the present, and will likely recombine them in a final draft. But for my brain, they need to be separated out for now so I don’t start losing the plot more than I already have.
I did go back and do a bit of editing in the last few days on what I have written to this point. Boy, do I love an adverb. Had to remove more than a few of them to clean stuff up.
The previous chapters are all on the Writing & more page.
Late October, 1st Semester of College
It took me a few weeks to wrap my brain around everything that Drake had said in our last conversation while also trying to stay afloat with classes and activities and the daily minutiae that let me forget for a while. True to his word, he didn’t reach out. How things went from here was all on me. And I had no idea how to move forward. Making decisions about relationships was difficult for me, at least making decisions beyond just ghosting people and not talking to them again. But I couldn’t do that this time.
Drake, in a few months, had become a good friend. Our last conversation aside, I loved talking to him. He let me be me and didn’t expect me to always be shiny happy and social. Half the time we were on the phone, we were just watching the same Netflix show, and not talking all that much except for random questions about what was going on or how much we hated a particular character. Talking to him was easier than talking to Amy or Sienna, whom I had known for years. I was more honest with him than I was with anyone else. It felt instinctual like we were old friends and settled into a rhythm of our own.
But the revelation that he had been interested in me before, that getting to know me now was all a pretense, stung. I felt like he was only getting to know me to reach some sort of endgame. Not to know me for me, but to know me to check something off a list. He was more interested in the destination, and not the friendship that I had been letting into my carefully constructed walls. I wasn’t comfortable being used, and this felt like he was using me. I needed to tell him all of this. I just didn’t know how.
I needed to get off campus for a change of scenery. A new place would give me a new perspective. I waited for the bus on the edge of campus that would take me to the sound. There was a huge park, and trails along the shoreline, and it felt like a little piece of quiet heaven away from the city. I loved walking the water’s edge and trying to glimpse at the giant fancy houses across the water on the islands that dotted the sound. Usually during the day, there weren’t many people around and I could enjoy the quiet lapping of waves across the pebbled beach, a soothing background of white noise to quiet the relentless litany of my internal monologue. I bundled up in layers, as the water only made the crisp fall weather even more chilling. Gloves, hat, scarf, vest, and coat. I was as protected on the outside as my heart was on the inside.
By the time the bus dropped me off at the edge of the park, it was early afternoon. I hadn’t eaten lunch, so I stopped by the little waterfront cafe to grab a hot cocoa and cinnamon roll. There was an empty bench nearby, looking out at the water and the boats floating across the surface. Setting my cup and paper bag next to me, I removed my gloves and fished my phone out of my jacket pocket. I needed to call Drake and have a conversation with him, instead of with the version of him I kept arguing with in my head. Scrolling to his number, my chest going tight with nerves, I hit call.
“Jade? Hi. I -.” Drake cut off. “Thank you.”
“Thank you? For what?” I asked around a mouthful of cinnamon pastry and cream cheese frosting.
“For calling. I was starting to think that you never would. Which would be your choice, but I am glad you didn’t.” He sounded tired.
“Yeah, I seriously considered that option. But I needed to talk to you. To tell you how much you hurt me. And as much as I would rather have done this over text, I felt that we both at least deserved to talk.”
“Can we switch to FaceTime? I would love to be able to see you.” Did I want to see him? Would that make all of this harder? I sighed, loudly.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I think it might help.” There was a thread of hope in his voice. As if seeing me could make me change my mind about how I wanted this conversation to go. Maybe it could. Was I willing to risk it?
“OK, fine. Let’s switch. But I have to talk first, and you’re just going to sit there and listen. No interrupting.” I’m not sure if I can hold on to my anger if he manages to derail my train of thought. And I am still angry. The shape of it has changed over the weeks, but that core of anger, of shock, is still there. A hot ember burrowed into my heart. I turn my phone to face the screen and hit the button to switch over our call to video. Drake’s face fills my screen, the sound a backdrop behind his head. I gasp and my eyes go wide as he appears on the screen. He looks… awful. Drake’s dark hair is messy, not styled and spiked to perfection like normal. His eyes are sad, and his brown skin looks downright pale.
“Are you OK?” I finally get out once the shock subsides.
“I’m functioning, but no, I’m not OK. I haven’t been since we talked last.” That nugget of information sinks in slowly. He’s been like this for weeks. The ember of anger in my heart cools, slightly.
“I -, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You don’t have to. It is what it is. And my current situation is not at all your fault, it’s mine. I hurt you, and by hurting you I hurt myself.” He shrugs and scratches at the scruff of his jaw. Shaving hasn’t happened much lately either. Speechless, I just shake my head and try to regroup. The entire diatribe I had planned in my head evaporated after seeing him like this. In all my time of knowing him, even at a distance, he was never messy and always groomed to perfection. This was outside of my realm of understanding of him, and it made me rethink everything on the fly.
“Jade, you wanted to talk first. The floor is yours.” His gentle reminder brings me back to the present, to him. I look back at my phone screen and close my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts, the frayed threads of courage, and all of my remaining anger and hurt. I need to do this. He needs to hear this. And what happens next… well, we’ll see. I shove my free hand into the pocket of my jeans to stop from fidgeting.
“It feels like all you’ve been doing is using me, using this guise of a friendship, to get something out of me that I’m not sure I want to give. You came into this with an ulterior motive, and right now all I can think is that you never wanted to be friends, it was just a convenient way to find an in with me.” My eyes begin to water. Dammnit, I didn’t want to cry. It feels like all I’ve been doing is crying.
“Oh, Jade, no. That’s not – “
“Stop talking. I’m not done.” Drake presses his lips together, but I can see in his eyes that it’s killing him to stay silent. Good. He deserves to wait. “You know how much I don’t like opening up to anyone, how much I hate having to share any part of myself with people. And right now all I feel is hurt and betrayed and like I can’t trust you or what you say. I’m going to be looking for ulterior motives in everything from now on. And that’s not fair to me.” The tears are spilling over now, tracks falling down my cheeks and dripping onto my jacket. I don’t even try to wipe them away. Drake needs to see just how much his actions hurt me. Even if he didn’t mean for them to, they did. I stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing him to see everything that I feel.
“I liked being friends with you. More than anything. And -, now I’m not sure if -, I don’t know where we go from here.” I trail off, sniffling. “OK, I’m done.”
Drake nods, waits a moment, and then utters a reply that has me sobbing out here on a bench in the middle of a mostly empty park under a gray, moody sky. “Jade, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I can’t turn back time to fix it. I want to know you, to be your friend, more than anything. If I can only be a friend, then that’s what I’ll be. I will be whatever you need me to be for you. If you never want to talk to me again, I’ll accept that. If you want to start over, I’ll do it. If you want to continue from where we are and take anything more than friendship off the table, I’ll do whatever you want. Just -,” he choked himself off for a moment. His chocolate dark eyes are shining with tears now. “Just don’t run away from me, please. J, please.”
It’s the please that breaks me. The earnest, aching please that rips out my heart and shatters all of my walls. No one, not ever, has asked me for anything with the passion that I hear in Drake’s plea. He didn’t try to argue, to gaslight, to make me feel like my emotions were unwarranted. He embraced my concerns and made them his own. He let me feel. I wish he was here, in person, so I could jump into his arms and have him hold me. Hug me. Touch me and remind me that he’s real, that I’m real, and that I do mean something to him. Something more than a means to an end.
I stare past the tiny phone image of Drake to the gray-blue water of the sound. There’s a fair amount of chop, with little whitecaps constantly breaking across the surface. The wind has picked up again, and I burrow deeper into my coat to ward off the sharpness in the air. Maybe coming this far out of the city wasn’t the best idea, considering the weather. But I knew having this conversation anywhere near other human beings was not an option. It was hard enough having this conversation with Drake, who was part of it. Anyone else would make my anxious brain even more fraught with nerves. I set Drake down on the bench for a few seconds – long enough to pull my gloves on – and pick the phone back up. My eyes stare for a moment, focused on him and unfocused at the same time. I see him, through him, and try to put my thoughts into words.
“I’d like to start over. With no expectations as to how things will end. I can’t do this if, in the back of my mind, all I can think about is you using me to get more out of me than I’m willing to give.” Drake’s eyes widen a fraction, so quickly I almost miss it. He’s nodding emphatically, head bouncing up and down so fast it feels like whiplash through the phone screen.
“Yes. Absolutely. Starting over is good. And I will never take more than you offer me, Jade. I could never. I never intended to, and the fact that you think that is on me, 100%. I am so sorry, J.” Relief and sadness and anger – at himself – all thread through his scratchy voice.
“I think we should go back to texting for a while. No phone calls, not yet.” I sniffle to hold back more tears. The cold wind isn’t helping matters, either. I use the hand not holding Drake on the phone to pick up my forgotten cocoa. It’s tepid now, but I need something to do, to stay busy so I’m not just staring. Long moments of silence follow the faint movement of water and the occasional bird call serving as background. We stare at each other through the phone. I both wish he was here and am glad that he’s not.
At this moment, my heart and my brain are at war. My heart voting to be wrapped up in a hug so tight it feels like a swaddle. My brain wanted to hide forever, to be a hermit in the woods with only tiny furry creatures as friends. Why am I like this?
There is no answer. I don’t know why I am the way that I am, why I hide from everything. It’s not like I had some sort of traumatic childhood. It was… bland. Normal. Or at least, uneventful. Being an only child, with parents who were estranged from their own families, I had spent most of my time in my own world, at the edges of adult conversations and situations, learning how to mind my own business and stay out of the way. My parents loved me, no doubt, but they also gave me a level of independence early on that made me hesitant to make connections with people. I was fine on my own. My insistent isolation made relationships that much harder, as I was finding out.
After what feels like hours, but in reality, was probably only a couple of minutes, Drake clears his throat. “So, I’m thinking you should set the pace for how things go from here. Text me whenever you want. And if at any time I say something or do something that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. Don’t just hide, like I know you’ll want to do.” He gives me a half smile, hopeful, but reserved. Like we’re both feeling right now.
“Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll…” I stop to take a deep breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs and tether me back to reality. “I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.” I raise a gloved hand in a half-hearted wave. He copies the gesture and then disappears from my phone screen. I sit there for a few more moments before moving. I gently tug the glove off my right hand with my teeth, so I can type on my phone screen. I pull up Drake’s contact and type a quick message.
Me: Thank you for understanding. This is going to be hard for me.
Drake: …
Drake: Of course, J. I’m just glad you reached out and told me how you feel. I know how difficult it is for you to open up, and I will work every day to not take what you share with me for granted. And to make up for the hurt that I caused by not being completely honest with you from the beginning. Take care, and I’ll be here whenever you want to talk.
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I send back a thumbs-up emoji and shove my phone deep into my coat pocket. Standing up, I grab my now-cold cocoa and go to toss it into the trash. I leave my glove off so I can slowly peel pieces off my cinnamon roll as I walk the shore.

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