Only One

By: Nancy Sweetland

My parents dropped off a box a few days ago, but I hadn’t looked through it yet. My mom had labeled it in Sharpie– Ryan’s stuff. I knew the gist of what was in it, photos going all the way back to the ultrasounds from when my mom was pregnant with me, drawings that once held a spot on our fridge, honor roll certificates, old report cards, birthday cards, and school projects. Most of this stuff I’d end up throwing out, but my mom had insisted on keeping it this long. I don’t know what it was, whether it was the curiosity about why my mom kept this junk, or because of my feeling of dread, but I found myself digging through the box, looking for answers to something. 

I mindlessly tossed aside my first report card, horrendous drawings that slightly resembled people, and many other papers, then picked up a photo. I held it gingerly. It was 15 year old me, all dressed up for homecoming in a suit that didn’t quite fit me. It was my dad’s old suit. With me in the picture, was a gorgeous girl in a stunning blue dress, face framed with bright red curls. Abigail. 

Suddenly, I knew why my stomach twisted thinking about moving away, despite seemingly having everything that I wanted. There was something missing. Or rather, someone. I pulled out another photo. Same people, different year. Our first day of middle school, both of us grinning a little too wide at the camera, her with pigtails and mismatching bows, me with my braces and my haircut that was cut just a little too short, both clinging to the bags on our backs. Memories came flooding back to me as I pulled out picture after picture of us, smiling, playing, hugging, and everything else. Abigail was the person that knew more about me than anyone else. We grew up together, and I couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t a part of my life. 

I uncovered a picture that I was sure I’d gotten rid of. I wasn’t in it, but Abigail was. It was one of many taken at prom our senior year. Many of our classmates were in the candid photo, but Abigail was right in the middle. She was dancing, the red skirt of her dress twirling around her, and her curls bouncing when she moved, and a gorgeous smile on her face. To most people, she looked like she was having the time of her life, but I could see past that. Despite her smile, there was sadness in her eyes. Someone was missing from that night. Me, I thought. I was missing. 

I went back to that night in my mind. Throughout high school, we went to a lot of the dances together as friends, except when another guy asked her out. We’d never dated, which surprised a lot of people because of how close we were. Prom was the same way. I’d asked her to go with me, and thankfully no other guys had asked her. 

The day of the dance came, and I was in my room getting ready. I stood in front of my mirror, put my tie around my neck, tied it, and then straightened it. It was red, to match her dress. I pulled on a navy blue suit jacket, making sure to keep my tie straight as I buttoned the jacket over it. I ran a comb through my hair, did one last check in the mirror, and then grabbed my phone, keys, and the rose I’d bought for Abigail. I’d thought a full bouquet was too much, since we weren’t dating. But… I’d wanted that night to be special for her, for both of us. I held the rose in my hand, rolling it back and forth between my fingers, my mind racing. I thought about what I was going to tell her that night, about how I felt. I imagined how she would react, how she would take the rose, and hug me and tell me she felt the same way. My mind continued to wander. What if she doesn’t feel the same way? Will we still be able to be friends? I didn’t want to risk our friendship… but I couldn’t keep pretending that I didn’t love her more than a best friend would. 

I rolled the rose forward again, and a thorn stabbed my thumb. The flash of pain brought me out of my thoughts. I tossed the rose on my desk, and pulled my phone out of my pocket, and opened my text messages. I began typing a message to Abigail. Hey Abigail, I’m so sorry about this but I can’t make it to prom tonight. I caught the stomach bug that’s been going around 🙁 

My thumb hovered over the send button. Was I chickening out? Yeah, I definitely was. I deleted the text, but stared at the blank screen. Then I’d retyped the text, and sent it. 

I snapped back to the present, still holding the photo from that night that I regretted so much. She never found out that I’d lied about being sick that night, never knew the real reason I didn’t pick her up. She wasn’t mad at me, because she thought I’d been sick that night. When she saw me at school, she caught me up on all the drama I’d missed, and life went back to normal. But not for me. I knew what I’d done, and guilt gnawed at me every time I looked at her, every time she waved excitedly to me across the hall. Yet I still never told her. Graduation came and went, and we spent our summer together, making as many memories as we could, and still I never told her. Then it was time to move in for college. We’d ended up going to different schools, so we had to say our goodbyes. Did I tell her how I felt then? No, I still kept it a secret. Besides, she’d probably meet some guy in college that was less of a coward than I was, and she deserved someone that wasn’t too scared to tell her how he felt. 

Now, I was preparing to move away and start my career, and the person that had been by my side for every event in my life didn’t even know about how I truly felt, and she wouldn’t be with me. I stood up, still holding the photo from prom. I smiled. It was time to finally stop being a coward. I grabbed my wallet and keys, and rushed out the door to my apartment, locking the door behind me. I hurried down the hall to the elevator, pressing the down arrow to call it. 

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. I darted inside. The elevator began its painstakingly slow descent, and stopped at every floor on the way down. Could this thing go any slower? I thought. Mindlessly, I began impatiently drumming my fingers on my leg, and bounced on the balls of my feet. The other guy in the elevator shot me an odd look before getting off on his floor. 

Finally, the elevator made it to the ground floor, and I got off before the doors had finished opening. I bolted out of the lobby and found my car in record time. Before driving to her apartment complex I made one quick stop, to pick up a single rose. Ten minutes later, I found myself standing outside her door. Heart pounding, I raised my shaking hand to knock on her door. I knocked twice, and waited. The door opened slowly, and behind the door was… not Abigail.  

Abigail’s roommate stood in the doorway. “Hey Vivianne, is Abigail here?” I asked, looking behind her to try to spot her. She shook her head, giving me a concerned look. “No, she’s not. Did something happen?” When she asked that, I realized that I probably looked like a mess, out of breath and practically shaking with nervous energy. 

I smiled at her. “No, everything is ok! I just… needed to tell her something. Do you know where she went?”  

“She went on a date. He picked her up about a half hour ago.”  My heart sank, but I kept a smile plastered on my face. Of course she had a boyfriend, why wouldn’t she? She was gorgeous, smart, talented, funny –  

“Oh, ok. Thanks.” I turned to walk away, but Vivianne put her hand on my arm to stop me. I looked back at her, and she smiled at me knowingly.

“Don’t stress too much about it, Ryan. It’s not anything serious, just a first date. I don’t think he’s right for her anyway. Plus, you’re already one step ahead of him,” she reassured me, nodding at the rose in my hand. “I’ll let her know you stopped by.” 

I smiled back at her halfheartedly. “Thank you.” With that, she let go of my arm, and went back inside. I walked back outside and got in my car, my energy from earlier gone. I began driving, no clear destination in mind. 

Mentally, I beat myself up for being such a coward. I had plenty of opportunities to tell her, but I didn’t, and now I lost my chance. She deserves better than me anyway, I thought. She needs someone that’s not scared, someone that’ll be honest with her. I pulled into a random parking lot, and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. I began writing furiously. If I couldn’t tell her now, I was gonna at least write her a letter telling her how I truly felt about her. Maybe I’d send it to her after I moved, or maybe she’d never see it. I didn’t want to complicate things with her boyfriend, but she deserved to know, right? There you go being a coward again. I sighed, balling the paper up in frustration. This was stupid, I didn’t even have a chance. 

I caught some movement behind my car in the rearview mirror. Turning around, I spotted Abigail. I did a double take, and then looked at the building I was parked outside of. Of course, I had managed to accidentally find the new coffee shop that she had gone to with her date. 

I looked back at Abigail. A tall, muscular guy followed her out of the coffee shop, carrying himself confidently, on the verge of cockiness. They stopped to talk, but I couldn’t hear them. She seemed nervous, hardly making eye contact with him. He said something, gesturing at what I assumed was his car. It appeared to be a question, as he looked at her, waiting. She looked everywhere but him, her eyes landing on my car momentarily, and her face lit up with recognition. She looked back at him and answered his question. His shoulders dropped slightly, her answer obviously not what he’d hoped for. He asked another question, and she shook her head. He stepped forward to hug her, and she accepted stiffly. I relaxed. Vivianne was right, I didn’t have anything to worry about. Clearly this date didn’t go well. He stalked off to his car and drove off. 

Abigail watched him leave, and then started walking towards my car. I hastily balled up the note and threw it in the backseat. She knocked on my window, and I rolled it down. 

“What are you doing here?” She wasn’t upset that I was there, in fact, she seemed a bit relieved that I was. Still, I got nervous responding. 

“I… uhhh, heard this coffee place was pretty good and was gonna try it out.” I cringed at my words. I was an awful liar, and both of us knew it. I didn’t even like coffee. 

Abigail gave me a look that proved she knew that that was a load of crap. “Really?”

Sighing, I told her the real answer. “Actually, I was kinda looking for you.” I grabbed the rose and got out of my car. 

Abigail looked confused, but she didn’t say anything, just cocked her head to the side and waited for me to explain further. I smiled. She was so adorable when she did that. “Abigail, I really need to tell you something, and I should’ve told you this a long time ago. Do you remember how I told you I was sick and couldn’t go to prom?” She nodded slowly, not understanding why that was important. I took a deep breath before telling her what really happened. “I lied. I wasn’t sick. The truth is Abigail…” I trailed off, looking at my feet. I looked back at her before continuing. “The truth is, I was scared. I had planned on picking you up, and giving you a rose, just like this one,” I explained, giving her the rose, “and telling you what I’d come to realize over the years. Abigail, you’re my best friend, you’re the person I tell everything to, and there’s no one that gets me like you do. You’re the only one I trust wholeheartedly. You mean so much to me, and every day since prom, I’ve regretted lying to you that night. I know you deserve someone better than me, but I can’t keep pretending that you’re just a friend to me.” 

I took a deep breath, looking down at the rose Abigail now held as I inhaled, then looked her in the eyes as I exhaled. “Abigail, I… I think I have feelings for you.” I gave her a shy smile after saying that. It felt so good to finally admit it. “I know you can do so much better than a guy like me, and I understand if you don’t feel the same way. But I couldn’t move away without at least telling you the truth.”

Abigail’s eyes had started tearing up at some point while I’d been talking. Smiling, she responded, “I was wondering when you’d finally tell me. You’re not as good at hiding your feelings as you think, at least from me,” she said, laughing. She threw her arms around me in a hug. Once I got past the surprise, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer. I breathed in the scent of her hair, vanilla and cinnamon. She pulled away, holding me at arms length. “Ryan, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that. You’ve always been there for me for as long as I can remember. Even back when we were little and I scraped my knee, you were there to make sure I was ok,” she giggled a little at that. “I can’t even imagine a world without you, and I don’t want to. I like you too, Ryan.”

My heart pounded with happiness. I’d been so focused on the possible negative outcomes that I really hadn’t given much thought to what would happen if she felt the same way. Needless to say, I was relieved that she did. I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and caressed her face with my thumb. I beamed at her, tilting her face up towards me, and planted a kiss on her forehead. She blushed, and pulled me back into a hug, burying her face in my shirt.

 If this moment could last forever, I would be satisfied. Abigail looked up at me. “So, what now?” she asked. 

“Well… would you like to go on a date with me?” I responded.

She giggled. “I would love to.”