Forgive Me (27 page)

The weekend passes with lots of hand holding and long gazes. Harlan can’t decide if he prefers us in love or in hate. He seems to lose either way. Jason takes first place and continues his domination of the Central Plains Region. The entire weekend, there’s talk of an enormous graduation party for the outgoing cowboys and cowgirls. Several people ask me if I’m coming for it and I hear Jason tell a few we’ll be there. I don’t have the heart to remind him it’s my spring formal. The one we missed last year because of his injury. The last one I’ll ever go to. There will be plenty of time to work it out. Tonight we celebrate the finest bulldogger ever to cross my path.

I
watch the terrain as we approach the city of Tulsa. A few buildings climb above the flat earth, reminding me of New Brunswick. It’s a small city, too. The highway is lined with trees, ripe with leaves this month, but it’s still not home. The hill-barren land still feels foreign and I am an alien in it. With less than ten miles to the airport, Jason mentions my return next weekend for graduation and I’m forced to remind him of my spring formal. It never occurred to him, never mattered.

“Come on, Annie. You’re coming to Oklahoma,” he assumes, and I can’t understand why he doesn’t view the formal as important. We’ve—apparently
I’ve
—planned on going the entire year to make up for the one I missed last year.

“I don’t think I am. You’re coming to New Jersey. I need my date. It’s a formal and it’s my last one,” I say as delicately as possible, but I can tell he’s quickly losing his patience with this conversation. His jaw is tense and so is mine. “Let’s talk about it later. I don’t want to waste our last few minutes together with details.”

He still seems annoyed.

“We’ll work it out,” I add, and he smiles as if I’ve relented and it’s settled that I’ll come to Oklahoma. I’ve spoiled him by coming so often.

The week passes without a word from me about the interview, or the condo, or the formal. Jason brings up the graduation party a few times and when I repeat how important my formal is to me, he becomes frustrated and we get off the phone. There’s little time to commit to the conversation because I’m preparing to interview for a job he doesn’t want me to have. It’s strange to be doing so many things at once he’s not excited about. Actually, that he is completely against and angry about. But I trudge forward, hoping he’ll come around, and knowing it’s going to work out. I keep telling myself he loves me.

“When’s Jason coming?” Julia asks as we collapse on our beds. Today was a very long day at work.

“I don’t think he is.” It’s the first time I’ve let myself accept he’s not coming.

“You’re going to miss the formal?” She’s appalled.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to miss it, but he’s not coming and I don’t want to go alone either.”

“Take it from me, a lot of these people you’ll never see again. Things change quickly in the real world. It’s barely possible to hold on to the people closest to you. All the others who’ve cracked you up the last four years will be lost.”

Julia leaves to pick up dinner and I find my phone in my bag. I tell myself he’ll be fine with the decision, but I know it’s not going to be fine. I’m so tired of fighting with him, especially over stupid stuff.
If it’s so stupid why don’t I just go to Oklahoma?

I find his gorgeous face attached to my contact and press the green phone button. It rings twice and a glimmer of hope that he’s not available shines, but then—

“Hey, Annie,” he says, sounding ornery.

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m helping decorate for the graduation party. When are you getting here?” he asks, and I hear the need in his voice even after only a few days apart.

“Jason, I want to go to my formal.” He’s silent. “With you. I want you to come up here tomorrow, like we planned, and take me to the formal. It’s important.” My words trail off. If it’s so important why am I not yelling it at him? Too exhausted? Too depleted?

“Annie, it’s just a dance. You’ve been to tons of dances. I’ve waited long enough. Now you want more time. The least you can do is come out here this weekend and give me something to make the wait bearable.” I try not to hate him. It’s not just a dance and for once, this isn’t about what he needs. He would keep taking from me until there’s nothing left.

“It’s not just a dance.”

“Annie, I’m sorry. It’s not just a dance. But it doesn’t change the fact that I really need you here.”

A thousand different ways to reinforce the concept of its importance, and his importance to me, jump into my mind and float around. Instead of hooking one I blurt out, “I think we should separate for the weekend.”

There’s a morbid silence on the other end of the phone. I hear people around him disappear into the background as a door slams which I assume is Jason finding a new place to talk, one in which he can freely express his opinion of my plan.

“It’s the best solution I can come up with,” I say.

“That’s your best? It’s not even a solution, Annie,” Jason yells into the phone, and I pull it from my face. His reaction is making me angry and I resent having to dread calling him. He’s a spoiled child who only thinks of himself.
Don’t you want to ask about my interview?

“We want to do two different things this weekend; both of them are important. Is it so wrong that we separate for this one weekend and both do the things we want to do?” I try to share the logic.

“Except yours is a formal, requiring a date. Who the hell are you planning on taking, Annie? Some drug addict asshole you’ve been hanging out with? Or maybe some cool new songwriter friend from New York? Who exactly are you going to get all dressed up for?”

“Fuck you, Jason,” I say without much emotion left in me. “It’s you I want to dress up for, but you’re choosing to spend the weekend with other people in Oklahoma. I’ll barely know a handful of people there, and I want to say good-bye to the hundred girls I’m friends with here. Is that so hard for you to understand?” I scream as if he’s the dumbest ass in the barn.

“No, I get it, Annie. I gotta go.”

“Go decorate some more?” I ask, and my utter hatred for a graduation party in Oklahoma oozes out.

“Fuck you, Annie.” He hangs up, leaving me regretting almost every word I said. I really can be an asshole.

I’m tired, exhausted, actually. My interview was with Bruce, his boss, and two of his peers. Even though this new job was created using my internship as a blueprint I still spent hours preparing last night. I was articulate, intelligent, and poised, and Bruce beamed proudly when he walked me out of the conference room. But the process drained me and left little energy to manage my cowboy.

I sit in the last row for our last sorority meeting. The incoming president is going to do a fantastic job. She’s sworn in and gives a speech brimming with excited anticipation for the coming year. I’m consumed with doubt. Doubt for next year, doubt for my next conversation with Jason, doubt for tomorrow night’s formal. Every single girl around me is buzzing about her dress, and I’m sitting here disgusted.

I marvel, one by one, at each of my friends. My heart bulges with love for these girls who have endured the last four years with me, the best and worst of my life.

They’re beautiful.

There’s the naïve tender heart that’s been taken advantage of, but will have the last laugh as a wealthy trader.

The Phish follower who’ll excel in law school and spend her life negotiating divorces.

The girl with the beautiful hair who cut it off because it annoyed her.

The exhausted, the wealthy, the confused.

The crazy chick from North Jersey who kept me sane on late shifts at Stuff Yer Face.

The virgin, the whore, and the “maybe just tonight.”

The lesbian, the Buddhist, the scarred.

The twins who will become physicians, but in the meantime try and lift my skirt in a picture.

The one who held my hair while I threw up my freshman year.

The teacher, the mother, the loved.

The little sister, the big sister, and the sister who will lose both her breasts to cancer before we’re thirty.

I see them all so clearly as they live their lives without the knowledge of death, and the fear of screwing up the living. May they never know the loss Jason and I have. May they never be lost.

They don’t owe a thing to the dead.

And neither do I.

Tomorrow is Friday and it’s probably not going to be much better than Thursday. Unless of course I board a plane to Oklahoma, which I don’t want to do. The dull tone in the pit of my stomach, always the tell something is very wrong, sinks me down into my chair. I gaze out the window at the dark night and remember the night Jason first kissed my ankle. I knew that night I would belong to him forever.

My eyes close and I embrace the sinking feeling. It’s my soul’s declaration; he’s all I’ll ever want. I know, as sure as I’m sitting here, that it’s never been a question of giving up, or giving in, but of giving myself to the one person I already belong to. It doesn’t matter if Jason is at the formal; he’s in my heart. He rescued my soul when it tried to follow my parents and he brought it back to me. It will forever want him more than anything else on this Earth and I’m not going to fight it. I walk out of the room, leaving my sisters to finish the important business of ending, and dial Jason’s number.

I’m not surprised when he doesn’t answer. I listen as his voicemail picks up. He won’t listen to the message. I call his house and leave one on the answering machine. It’s late, and we’ve been through a lot. There was a time when the bulk of it wasn’t at the hands of each other. It’ll be like that again soon. As soon as we can be together.

“Jason, it’s Annie. I love you. I’m sorry I’m not there. I’m sorry for so many things. I’ve been so afraid of losing me, terrified I won’t be Charlotte anymore if I give in…if I surrender to you, that I almost lost you. But tonight I realized I’m nothing without you. You are the only thing I need. The only thing I want. And you consume me every minute of every day. With you, I am alive. Without you, I am not.” I can’t keep the smile from my face; the choice so obvious, and the fight within me won.

“I may not belong with you, Jason, but I belong to you. I’ll be home soon. Call me when you wake up in the morning.”

Day breaks without a word from Jason. I’ve been walking around all day as if this is settled; my mind put at ease by the realization he’s all I’ll ever want. There’s nothing more to fight about. I have a quick celebratory drink with Julia before leaving the city. My hard work paid off and Bruce offered me a full-time position with Robertson’s Reports effective May eighteenth. It’s more like a prison sentence imposed than a position earned. Julia comments on my sorrow-drowning and reminds me to have fun at the formal tonight.

“Are you sad you’re not going?” I ask, still not accepting the fact she graduated in December and that she
and
Jason will not be at my last formal.

“Not at all. I have a date tonight,” she says, and takes a gulp of her drink. “I know it’s hard to believe, but Rutgers will fade fast. It all does if you keep moving forward. I’m building something new now and come May eighteenth you’ll start some construction of your own.”

“You’re so profound,” I say, and finish my own drink. “I’ve got to get home. As it is I’m showing up late, without a date, for my last ZTA formal.”

“It’s a tragedy in so many ways,” Julia says, and hugs me.

I feel absolutely ridiculous climbing into the cab with my turquoise sequined dress hugging me. Without time for a proper hairstyle, I let it dry wavy and pulled a small section back from my face. It at least looks like some effort was expended. I’m rushed, disheveled, and exhausted, but I’m on my way. It’s probably better I don’t have a date. I don’t mean that. I wish Jason was here.

The site of the formal is thirty minutes away so I settle into the ride and take out my phone to call him. I meant to call all day, but I never had a minute to myself. With the cab driver sitting two feet from me, I’m finally alone. It’s 7:45 in Oklahoma. We never got to the details of the party so I don’t know when it’s supposed to start. The idea of calling him annoys me and I wish we could just fast forward to the next time I see him. It’s always easier when we’re together.

I put my phone away and lean on the window. The sky is black, not a star visible through the cloud cover, not a sliver of the moon to be seen. I wonder what it’s like in Oklahoma tonight.

I pay the driver and step out of the car, stone sober and stone faced. The mansion before me is immense and I regret my stubborn insistence on attending. I turn to ask the driver to take me home as he pulls away, leaving me facing the street, my back to my last formal at Rutgers.

The enormous wooden doors of the rented hall amplify my sense of foreboding. I push one open and hear the sounds of ZTA. It’s a mix of raucous laughter and music that immediately puts me at ease. I walk down the hall, not really knowing where I’m going, and stop short at the doorway on my left. The party’s liveliness equals that of a thousand people. They’re gorgeous, all dressed to the nines, and they are everywhere. I should have forced Julia to come.

One hundred girls exactly and ninety-nine boys; those without a lover at least having a friend. And there’s me, reveling in them for the last time and grateful I walked through the door.

Above the heads I see Noble’s blue eyes fixed on me and I can tell he’s smiling without seeing his lips. He walks over as a slow song begins, and stops three feet away. I blush as he appraises me in my short, sparkly gown, and laugh hysterically when he dramatically reaches out his hand in an offer to dance.

I take it and Noble leads me past the crowded bar and onto the dance floor. It begins to fill, but I’m the center of attention, because I’m with Noble. Wherever he goes, he commands the floor. He’s mine. Just for right now.

“I figured you’d be on a plane by now,” Noble says, and stares down at me with pride. “You never cease to amaze me, Charlotte.”

“Funny. I amaze you. I infuriate our other friend from Salem County,” I say, and place Jason between us.

“Can you blame him? You’re stunning.” Noble spins me and pulls me back to him. “I wouldn’t want you alone here either.”

“Then he should have come with me. He was invited and certainly wanted here,” I say, ending the conversation. Noble pulls me to him and we dance like children without a care in the world, but I haven’t been that person for almost two years. Without my parents, life has been one care after the next.