Nobody in Particular(58)

But she asked me to be honest.

“I don’t think so,” I say.

She presses her fingertips to her temple. “What’s the point, then? If I know I’m not okay with being a secret forever, why would we even start anything at all?” She’s turning pink now—I suppose she hears the implication just as I do—but she continues. “I’m not saying we’re gonna marry one day. I know it’s early, and we’re not really anything right now. But what I’m saying is, if there is no possible way this can end happily, then I just … isn’t it smarter to end things now? Before one of us gets hurt?”

I think it’s a rhetorical question, but I ignore that. “No.”

“No?” she repeats dully. “Based on what?”

“Based on … the fact that I want to be with you. I don’t want this to end.”

“But it will end,” she points out. “It’s not like if we did happen to stay together indefinitely that I’d just get over it one day and be cool with my girlfriend hiding me in a room while she married someone else. I will never be cool with that, Rose.”

“So, let it end later, then.”

“Oh, yeah, great idea, let’s get emotionally invested in each other first, so it hurts even worse.”

“People break up all the time. Most relationships don’t last forever, but people start them anyway. What’s the difference?”

“Being in a relationship that doesn’t work out is life. Getting into a relationship you know won’t work is masochism.”

“But we’ll have now,” I say, leaning forward. “Danni, I want to be with you. Being around you makes everything feel good. It’s something wonderful. Isn’t it better to have something wonderful for a while, even if one day we have to say goodbye to it, than to never have it at all?”

I can tell from her expression that my words aren’t having nearly the impact I wanted them to, and I grow cold. Her eyes are glassy as she replies. “I want to be with you, too. I don’t want to end this. But we’ve barely started seeing each other, and the thought of going back to being friends hurts.”

“So we stay together.”

“It really goddamn hurts, Rose,” she says over me. “So, I can’t even imagine how much it’d hurt to do this later. I can’t do that to myself. I won’t. And you deserve someone who will stay.”

I don’t understand it. How did we get here? One moment we were talking about rumors and strangers, and suddenly, we’re over. Just like that. What did I say wrong? Can I take it back? Can we start this conversation over from the top? There has to be a way to fix this. She can’t really mean she doesn’t want to be with me anymore, can she?

There must be something eloquent and convincing I can conjure to calm her fears in one fell swoop. I’ve been trained in conflict resolution more times than I can count. But my heart is beating too fast and loud, and my throat feels as though it’s about to cease letting air through at all, and the edges of my vision are blurry, so all I can manage is a simple, unconvincing, “But … please.”

Danni’s shaking her head before I even finish. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I snatch up her hands. I hold them tightly, tethering us.

“Don’t,” I beg. “Danni, don’t.”

“I have to. I don’t want to, either, but we have to.”

“At least sleep on it.”

“Please, this is already hard, don’t make it harder.”

“Well, I don’t intend on making it easier for you to leave me.”

“Rose, I’m sorry,” Danni says, and she lets go of my hands. “If I realized, I wouldn’t have started this at all. I’m so sorry. But we’re going to be okay, okay? I—I still care about you, and we’re going to stay friends, and we don’t even need to keep the whole space thing going. Molly knows we’re still hanging out, and she’s fine with it. We can just go back to the way things were at the start of the term, and it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but then it won’t hurt anymore, and we are both going to be fine. Okay? I promise.”

But I’ve stopped listening. It’s apparent her mind is set, and I have no say in things, and my fear and hurt are already ebbing away. Loose sand through parted fingers. I’m sure Danni’s right. A week or two from now, three at the most, we will simply be something that briefly occurred. If she only wants to be friends, then we will be friends. It doesn’t much matter, really. Nothing does, in the grand scheme of things. Everything starts, and everything ends, on and on like that for eternity, and feeling any particular way about it is a waste of emotion. The only thing that ever changes is the time that elapses between the two points. And perhaps Danni is right. Perhaps shorter is better.

I might as well face this new reality without flinching. I get to my feet and gather my wet clothes in a bundle. “Do you have a bag?” I ask. “I should probably hide these as I walk back.”

She gives me a funny look and then digs around in her wardrobe for a tote bag. “Are you okay?” she asks as she hands it to me.

“Of course,” I assure her. “I understand what you’re saying. Really.”

She’s studying me, her eyes flickering around my face as though she’s seen something quite alarming there. “Are you sure? You don’t seem okay.”