The Way I Am Now (The Way I Used to Be)

I go to knock on Eden’s door the next morning, and as I get closer, I hear music. Not music playing from a speaker but actual music. When she answers the door, she’s in pajamas and her favorite hoodie, holding her clarinet.

“Hi,” she says with a smile, seeming genuinely happy to see me standing here.

“Morning,” I say. “Was that you playing?”

“Depends,” she says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Were you coming down here to complain about the noise?”

“No, it sounded really good.”

“In that case, come in. Want some coffee?”

“No, I can’t stay. I’ve gotta take care of some financial aid stuff before I leave. But speaking of which. Dominic left for home already—he’s helping Luke move out of his dorm.”

“Yeah, I heard. Luke’s moving here. That’s really great.”

“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “So, I just wanted to see if you want to ride home with me for the break. I know you have your audition later today, but when were you planning on leaving?”

“Oh,” she says. “Thanks, but I’m actually staying here.”

“By yourself for the holidays, why?”

“Ugh, it’s a long story,” she sighs. “When I was home for Thanksgiving, it was just—there’s some toxic stuff working itself out there right now and I really need my head clear going into this trial.”

“Makes sense,” I tell her, especially considering how wrecked she was after the last hearing, how it nearly wrecked us for good. “You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah,” she says sadly. “And besides, this time of year is always triggering anyway.”

“You mean because of family stuff?”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Sometimes I forget you can’t actually read my mind. Um, no, it’s—the holidays, that’s when it happened. When Kevin—the assault,” she says, and I somehow get the feeling she’s trying to spare me from hearing the word “rape.”

“You never told me that.”

She sort of shrugs one shoulder.

“Um, just putting this out there. You could stay at my parents’ house, with us, if you want. Strictly friends, I promise.”

She smiles for a moment. “Thanks, but I think it’s best if I just stay here.”

I feel like I should offer to stay with her, but the fact is, I need to be home with my family this year. And for her reasons, she needs to be here. She doesn’t need me to fix this or make it better or protect her. For once I feel like it’ll be all right. Me. Her. This fledgling us.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Well, in that case, I think I’m probably heading out after this financial aid appointment, so . . .”

She sets her clarinet down on the kitchen counter. Then walks over to me, hugs me tight, breathes in and out, her head, like always, fitting under my chin.

“If you need anything,” I begin to say as we pull apart, my hands automatically on her face as I look down at her. And as she looks up at me, I think, for a moment, she wants to kiss me. So I let my hands go to her shoulders instead, back up a step.

“If I need anything,” she finishes for me, “I’ll call you.”