Reclaiming the Sand
Page 74

“How long do you plan to stay in Wellsburg?” I asked Flynn a little while later when I couldn’t handle the sounds of The Cure any longer.
“It’s my home. I hadn’t planned on leaving,” Flynn said, surprising me.
“You want to stay there? Why? Wellsburg sucks! There has to be a million other places you’d rather be!” I was horrified by his answer. Now that I was making tangible plans for the future, my biggest goal was to get away from my hometown before it sucked me dry.
With Flynn’s encouragement, I had started to dream about going to school. Of building a life far, far away.
But how could I do that if Flynn stayed? How could I leave him now that we had found each other again?
And more importantly how could I entertain the idea of a forever with this man if our goals and dreams took us in totally different directions?
“But what if I leave?” I asked quietly, hating how sad and vulnerable I sounded but knowing he’d never make me feel bad about it. He’d never use it against me.
“Then you’d leave. And I’d be there when you felt like coming back,” Flynn said flatly. Reading him was difficult at the best of times and especially now when I wanted so desperately to understand what he was thinking.
I tried not to get angry by his blasé attitude. I fought the bitterness that pushed me to lash out. How could he be so comfortable with the idea of us being apart? How could he let me leave with no thought of fighting?
Because Flynn wasn’t the type to fight. Not in the way I’d expect him to.
But that’s not to say he wouldn’t fight for me in the only way he could. With support and quiet understanding and complete and total reassurance.
I just couldn’t help but feel like there was an expiration date on our relationship and that made me furious.
“That’s it?” I asked a little louder than was warranted for the close quarters.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand?” Flynn asked, sounding confused.
“So you’re okay with me leaving? For me to live my life without you?” I demanded.
Flynn gripped the steering wheel tightly. I saw him start to work on his bottom lip with his teeth.
“No. I don’t want you to leave me. But you hate Wellsburg. You want to go to college. I’ve already been to college. I can’t go with you. That should make you happy. Not angry. Why are you angry?” He was trying to work out why I was so upset. And in turn, I was upsetting him.
“I’m angry because I want you to come with me! I want you to be there if I decide to do this! I don’t want to leave you behind, Flynn!”
Flynn didn’t say anything in response to my outburst. The silence stretched between us. I had hoped he’d see how much I cared about him. How much I wanted to share my life with him. How I had planned for a future that included him in every possible way.
It seemed I had only succeeded in freaking him out. He was rubbing his hands on the steering wheel. He was gnawing on his lip to the point he was drawing blood.
“Flynn” I began but he cut me off.
“Don’t say anything, Ellie. Just leave me alone,” he snapped.
Well just great! So much for the perfect getaway. My inability to censor myself had always gotten me into trouble.
Some things never change.
Flynn was quiet for almost forty-five minutes. We had just merged onto the I-64 outside of Lexington when he finally spoke.
“We’ll stop at the next rest area. Murphy needs to go to the bathroom,” he said, as though we hadn’t just spent the last hour in complete silence.
“Flynn…I really think we should” I started but once again I was cut off.
“I’m hungry too. I brought some chips and fruit. We can eat some when we get there.”
Okay.
Obviously talking about our future wasn’t going to happen. I was frustrated. Aside from the possible physical distance between us, how would we ever be able to survive if we couldn’t communicate? If every time I brought something up that Flynn found to be unpleasant, he’d shut me down?
I was definitely not a talker. I tended to bottle shit up as much as the next messed up person. But I also knew that you had to talk about stuff. As hard as it was. And even though I had spent most of my life doing the exact opposite, I was now ready to try to do things the right way.
Murphy started to whimper in the backseat. I knew he was most likely picking up on the tension in the car. Hell, I’d start whimpering if I didn’t get out of there.
Flynn turned up the volume on the radio and I wanted to bang my head against the dashboard. Whiny singing was not the way to sooth my jangled nerves.
Finally we pulled into the rest stop and I practically jumped out of the car. I needed some space before I said something I’d regret. I didn’t handle rejection and hurt feelings well. The urge to hurt him as he had just unknowingly hurt me was overwhelming.
“Don’t you want to eat?” Flynn called out as I walked toward the restrooms.
“No! I just need a minute!” I said, not looking at him.
I went into the bathroom, barely noticing the disgusting smell, and splashed some water on my face and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
What was wrong with me?
I knew better than to put unrealistic expectations on Flynn. He would never be able to live up to them. But I had hoped when we started this thing between us that there would be an us at the end of it all.
I had been counting on it.