Filed to story: If He Had Been With Me Book PDF Free
“Oh God,” I say. I climb out of the tent. Finny or Jack might say something to me, but I don’t know; I am speeding past them and into the bathroom.
I’m still throwing up when Finny knocks on the door.
“Go away,” I say.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Go away.”
“Okay.”
When it’s over, I rinse my mouth out and look at myself in the mirror. I look like hell. I run my fingers through my hair.
When I come out, the guys are in the kitchen making toast. I slump down at the table and curl my knees up to my chest.
“Feeling better?” Jack says.
“More or less,” I say. They continue their conversation without me. They aren’t talking about Sylvie and I don’t listen anyway. After a minute, Finny hands me a piece of buttered toast and I eat it quietly. My stomach protests but I keep it down.
Later we finish the movie we started last night, and then Jack leaves. I tell Finny that I am gonna go next door to take a shower. He says okay and doesn’t ask when I’ll be back.
At home, I huddle in the hot shower with my arms wrapped around my middle. I want him to break up with Sylvie. I don’t want to watch him fall for another girl.
I want him to be in love with me. Like a movie montage I can’t stop, scenes from the summer fly through my mind, moments when I thought, maybe, just maybe—
“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” I say. I squeeze my eyes tightly. “It’s not real,” I say. And the need to write it down overwhelms me and I step out of the shower, dripping and shivering.
In my bathrobe, I sit at my computer and I write for a long time. At first I don’t realize what is happening. I think that I will write a few pages and go back to Finny’s. As the afternoon wanes, my mind starts to feel soft, but I keep pushing. I realize I want this over with. I can’t do this to myself anymore.
I get up twice, once to get a glass of water, once to go to the bathroom. Both times, I rush back to write what I have been thinking.
Sometimes my hands are flying across the keyboard, other times I stare at the screen for long, silent stretches. Around dinnertime, Finny sends me a text. I send him back one word.
Writing.
***
It’s late in the day now, but it’s still mostly light out. I’m typing the last sentence, the one that’s been in my head for so long now. I’m shaking. I click save. I stare at the screen.
That’s it. That’s all of it.
I’m still in my bathrobe. My hair is dry now. I feel numb, like I did after Jamie broke up with me.
***
I don’t know how long it has been—it’s starting to get dark, but isn’t quite yet—when Finny knocks on my bedroom door. I know it’s him. I figured he would come eventually. The door creaks as he opens it. I’m sitting on one end of my bed. I’m still in my robe.
“Autumn?” he says.
“Hey,” I say.
“I came to check on you,” he says.
“I finished the novel,” I say, and I start to cry. I don’t see him cross the room, but I feel him pull me into a hug. I haven’t ever cried like this in front of him, at least not since we were kids. I lean my head on his shoulder and sob, but it doesn’t last too long because I’m touching him, and he’s holding me. Finny waits until I am quiet to say anything.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he says. He hasn’t let me go. I sniffle.
“It’s like they’re dead,” I say.
“Like who is dead?”
“Izzy and Aden,” I say. “My main characters.” I feel the tears building up again.
I feel Finny let out a breath. He laughs once through his nose.
“I thought something was really wrong,” he says. Before I realize I’m doing it, I pull away from him in anger.
“Something is wrong!” I say, “Can’t you tell I’m upset?” Finny laughs again. His right arm is still around my shoulders. I make a fist and punch his left one. He still laughs. “Stop laughing at me,” I say.
“Sorry,” he says, but he’s still smiling. “It’s just that it’s really obvious that you’re upset, and I meant I thought something was really wrong, like Jamie had called you.”
“Who cares if Jamie called me?” My voice is shrill. “Who cares about
Jamie?” Finny grins. I start to cry again. He pulls me into another hug. “You don’t understand,” I say into his chest.
“I know,” he says. His voice is soothing; I close my eyes. “But I can’t wait to read it,” he says.
“You can’t read it,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, and I can’t answer him. He doesn’t say anything else. He holds me even after my sniffling stops. It’s dark outside now. I realize I want this over. I can’t do this to myself anymore.
“Okay,” I say. “You can read it after dinner.”
Once upon a time there were a boy and a girl named Aden and Izzy. They lived next door to each other and were best friends. Aden was smart and handsome, and Izzy was awkward and funny. Nobody else understood them the way they understood each other.
Aden and Izzy grow up, and Izzy doesn’t leave Aden, and Aden isn’t afraid to wait to kiss her until he is certain she is ready to be kissed. They go to high school and they aren’t just best friends anymore. When they undress at night they leave their blinds open so the other can see. Aden plays soccer but Izzy doesn’t do anything but watch him from the stands. They go to school dances sometimes, but mostly they just want to be alone together. They don’t have any other friends, and they don’t want any others because they’re still best friends too. They steal vodka from Izzy’s dad and go down to the creek where they used to play and get drunk. Aden learns to drive and he helps teach Izzy to later.
One night, Aden and Izzy have sex, and it is wonderful and scary. Then Izzy is pregnant, but before anyone finds out their baby dies and it is very, very frightening but also a little bit beautiful, the way sad things sometimes are.
Sometimes people tell them they should make other friends or date other people, but Izzy and Aden never listen because they know that it’s just supposed to be the two of them, and it doesn’t matter if no one else understands.
Then in their senior year, Izzy is offered a scholarship to study writing at a school far away from where Aden is going to go. Izzy really wants to accept, and Aden tells her she has to go. They cry a lot, and then they decide they don’t want to ruin their perfect love by trying to stretch it across the distance. They think that they will be able to forever remember each other as they are now and never have to have arguments over the phone or wonder what the other is doing that night. When Izzy leaves, it will just have to be the end, and so they try to make the best of the last few months.
The day comes when Izzy is supposed to leave, and they are going to say good-bye at the airport. Aden holds Izzy for the last time, but when the time comes neither of them can let go. They keep holding on and the speakers are starting to call for Izzy’s plane but neither of them moves, and they finally admit that they would rather ruin their perfect love trying to make it work because being unhappy together is better than being unhappy apart.
And then Izzy and Aden are finally able to let each other go.
And that’s the last line of my novel.
Finny sits on the living room couch while he reads off my computer screen. I read a book for a while, and the only sound in the room is the click of the keyboard as he scrolls down to the next page. Every time I hear it, I look at his face, but his face says nothing, nothing at all.
Around eleven, I turn on the TV and watch an old movie. Finny doesn’t comment. Just before the movie is over, he gets up. I hear him drink a glass of water in the kitchen. He walks back to the couch without looking at me. The movie ends and another starts, and Finny is still reading.
But he’s frowning now.
I stay awake for another hour, but my eyelids are heavy and my head is aching again. I turn off the TV, and Finny does not move. I stand and stretch, and he does nothing. I walk past him, out of the room, and up the stairs.
In Finny’s room, I crawl under his covers and lay my head on his pillow. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I thought I would feel jittery and want to bite my nails, but all I want to do is sleep; the act of giving it to him has exhausted me.