Unthinkable (Tate Langdon)

013

November, 1993 - January 4th, 1994.

She waited for that phone call.

She waited endlessly for the phone to ring and for his voice to be on the other end of the line, telling her that she was right, that he'd listened.

The phone never rang. If it did, it was simply a bill collector or some such nonsense, never Tate.

She'd barely seen him in school, just a quick glimpse of blonde hair or stark brown eyes that she couldn't be sure she had truly seen. She'd even spent time in their old hang around spots, Tate never once venturing back.

Over time, as fall turned into winter and days came and went, Eve began to feel stupid for waiting at all.

She was the one who had told Tate they were too young to be getting so serious, after all, and yet, she was the one who couldn't stop thinking about him months after they'd last spoken and straight on into a new year.

She'd tried to forget after being optimistic was clearly no longer wise, trying to spend more time with her art club friends and less time alone or looking for Tate. Nothing seemed to fill the void left by his all but disappearing.

She couldn't make herself feel any better, but she could console herself with the knowledge that she could leave that town and any memories attached far behind in just a few short months.

After graduation, she had decided, it was straight back to Seattle for her until the fall when she'd hopefully be New York bound.

She had almost successfully went a week without devoting any time to thoughts of Tate, at that point.

She'd kept herself busy with the piece she was working on for the spring art show and was devoting herself entirely to her studies in order to keep her mind off of him.

When her pager went off, the noise actually frightened her. It had been silent so long that she had recently started pondering whether or not it was worth the ten dollars a month to keep it connected.

She looked at the viewing window, half expecting a wrong number. Instead, it was Tate. Her heart leapt into her throat as she read the message.

108 - that familiar code indicating an invitation to come over - combined with 001 - "please".

She was instantly torn between leaving on the spot or not going at all, considering how long she'd waited to speak with him.

But maybe, she told herself, he'd finally come to his senses. Maybe things could go back to the way they had been before.

She couldn't allow herself to hope too much, but she Also couldn't simply go on without knowing.

She decided on going after allowing some time to pass and giving herself a long once over in the mirror as any girl would when heading off to see their ex-boyfriend - if in fact he was her ex.

The Langdon house was conspicuously quiet when she arrived, windows darkened aside from the watchful candles Constance kept lit in the sills.

She lifted her hand to knock, but found one encircling her wrist. Her eyes snapped up to catch a silver of a familiar face in the moonlight.

"Don't. She'll flip shit if she gets woken up," Tate warned her, stepping out from the shadows of the porch.

Her heartbeat was uncooperative. Between the shock of being grabbed and that of seeing him after so long, it hammered loudly in her chest.

"Come sit with me?" he asked flatly, motioning to the edge of the porch furthest from the door.

Eve hesitated. There was something in his voice - a startling lack of affect, a monotone quality that left her feeling shaken.

"Please, Evangeline?"

At the use of her full name, the only time she could recall him ever addressing her that way, she followed him to where he sat.

"What is this about, Tate?" she asked worriedly. It certainly didn't seem like the joyous declaration of wellness she had envisioned all the times she pictured seeing him again.

"I'm sorry for what I did, for everything. I'm sorry that I hurt you and I'm sorry that I let you down," he began, quiet tears falling down his cheeks.

"I don't understand," she said with a shake of her head.

"Just let me finish, okay? I just wanted to love you and make you happy, but I don't know how. I don't want to be like this, but I am. I don't think I can change," he continued.

"You didn't go back to Dr. Lehman, did you?" She could feel her stomach sinking lower with each word he spoke.

"No. And I'm not going to," he told her slowly and deliberately. "I'm going somewhere else, the only place I can go to fix any of this shit. But I'm going to have to go away for... For a long time."

She felt a modicum of hope bloom in her chest; so he was planning on getting help. Not the help they'd discussed and probably not the help he wanted, but it was still something.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, practically crushing the air out of him with the embrace.

"God, Tate. I've been waiting to hear that for so long," she breathed, feeling her own eyes mist with tears.

"Yeah, I know. But if I'm going to go, can I ask you a favor?" he broached the idea timidly and pulled back from the hug.

"Anything," she responded certainly.

"Can I come by tomorrow afternoon before I leave? You'd have to ditch class, but it's just one day, and I'm going away for a while, y'know?"

She bit her lip. It was the first day back from winter break, but she supposed that it was just one day. With the sincerity playing in his eyes, there was never really any hope of her saying no.

"Of course. Yeah, I'll be home," she agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "My mom works, anyway. She'll never notice."

"Thank you," he whispered as though some enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He looked at her oddly for a moment, as though he were weighing some set of options he couldn't be sure of, only to be interrupted by an upstairs light cutting on.

"Shit," he mumbled, obviously given some impetus to make a decision.

He leaned forward and placed a hand on either side of her face, his lips crashing against hers firmly and without finesse. It was hurried and rushed, but she gave into it easily, missing the feel of his mouth on hers when he pulled away.

"I have to go now," he muttered, swiping away more inexplicable tears. "You'll ditch for me tomorrow, promise?"

"Promise," she nodded an affirmative.

"I love you. Whatever happens, you remember that, okay?" He stole one more kiss as he retreated quickly towards the door.

"I love you too, Tate," she whispered, unsure if he even heard her.

As she ran her fingertips across her burning lips, the sensation of his kiss still lingering there, she couldn't help the sense of dread that washed over her.

For someone who was going to see her tomorrow, it had felt eerily similar to saying goodbye.

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Just two more chapters to go, guys! Thank you to those who have, are, and will be reading this. I'd love to hear from you before it ends. :)