Chapter Two
Fangirl
I remember our summer together like it was yesterday… Confessions of a Post-teenage Hermit
As a girl, I’d always looked up to Ben, not just because he was a year older than me. Ben was his own person. He didn’t need the approval of others to make a decision. For that, and so much more, I admired him.
Even so, after all my on paper admiration, you should know that Ben didn’t look up far enough to see me standing there that afternoon. He didn’t meet my eyes and for that I was grateful. My ex-boyfriend didn’t even notice me. He was too busy reading the Vacation Care notice.
Ben Wentworth had been more than unavailable over the years. The non-emails, the forgotten telephone numbers, the changed addresses, the lack of social networking sites between us weighed heavily on me in that moment.
I wore little make up and I was tired. My jeans were faded; my shirt was splashed with paint and a huge glittery star from the stage scenery I’d helped my class finish making that afternoon. I’d brushed my hair from my wan face and tied it in a bunch on the top of my head. I felt more than a decade older than my early twenties. Although I hadn’t seen Ben in almost six years, I had thought of him every day in absentee; his graceful walk, his blonde sun-kissed hair, his warm chest.
My cell beeped. It was Keira.
His brother and sister are vacationing with him – that’s all I know… so far! The child is his nephew – dodged a bullet there. But he has a girlfriend of course… a flight attendant! Keira added in her next text. I blocked out the words and thought of the man.
All of this flashed before my eyes in that one image I had of him. Boyfriend, first kiss, first love, only love, love lost; a true officer and a gentleman. I was grateful for the silence after that text. It meant I could gather my thoughts.
His walk was familiar but the secret thrill of seeing him again was tempered by the fact that, once more, I was watching him leave. He was tall and his shoulders were strong, like his face. I recognized his walk long before I saw his smile. His right hand, the large one holding the child’s, was scarred and the way he rubbed his sandy, sticking up fringe with his palm were all recognizable characteristics of the person I’d loved.
As he collected the young boy from the classroom opposite mine, I remembered why we’d parted. I saw the younger teenaged faces of our friends from high school: Harley, Jenny, my sisters, even Serena Collins (mean girl extraordinaire).
What does his new girlfriend have that I didn’t? I texted.
Quick as a flash Keira texted back: Familiarity! Plus, her family R probably a LOT nicer to him than yours was! And remember YOU dumped HIM
Not exactly.
I thought about the big questions of life. Does true love really wait? The answer was obvious. Is reclaiming love or ever replacing it even possible? I didn’t think so. How do you forgive someone for choosing someone else?
You don’t.
That afternoon, I watched the children leave, one by one, with their backpacks – and their parents. As I packed up the day’s toys and placed them in a box, the hush of the empty school was eerie. The air was quiet and damp. The cleaning staff arrived as I collected my purse, stuffed full with children’s drawings.
As I got into my car and turned on the ignition, I noticed it was getting dark. I’d had more work to finish for vacation care than I’d realised.
