Filed to story: If He Had Been With Me Book PDF Free
“Feeling better?” Jack asks.
“More or less,” Autumn says. Her eyes are closed when I turn around, and she’s curled up in the chair, chin on her knee.
I pass Jack the first plate of toast and turn back to make more.
“So if you go back to the original source material,
Wiseguy,” Jack begins. He talks about this movie all the time. I don’t have to listen to know what he’s saying. I can agree or say the right thing while focusing on her.
I butter Autumn’s toast the way she likes it, and she gives me a weak, grateful smile that melts me. I’m not sure what’s keeping me upright.
Jack is only trying to save me from myself with this Scorsese monologue, and I’m being a terrible friend.
Her breathing is focused and slow. She chews, swallows, and takes a deep breath. Chew. Swallow. Breath. It’s working. She’s relaxing. Her eyes are still closed; she still leans her cheek on her bent knee.
Jack says, “I think you’d dig the narrative style, like, as a writer.”
Autumn opens her eyes and blinks at him. I’m certain she has not been listening to the film history lesson either.
“Why don’t we restart the movie? We can all watch it.” Jack gives me a look to remind me that our other conversation isn’t over.
Autumn shrugs and finishes her toast.
I don’t pay attention to the movie. We all sit on the couch in a row, the tent abandoned. They’re watching the movie. I’m just here, near her. It seems like the toast did the trick for the nausea she had when she woke.
When had she woken? What had Jack and I been saying?
When I warned Jack that she was about to wake up, we’d been talking about—
Sylvie or soccer. That’s what she could have overheard.
I already told Autumn that I’m breaking up with Sylvie. I don’t think I said anything that could have revealed the real reason. It’s one thing to be in a relationship with Sylvie while in love with the girl next door; it’s a step too far if she’s going back to being my best friend too.
“She’s just not who I want to be with,” I finally said when Autumn asked me why. It was the truth, even if it omitted so much. She nodded like she understood, and it felt like we both said more than we were, but I’m a fool like that.
My best friends sit on either side of me for two and a half hours. Last night, we joked and teased. Today, we are quiet. Either way, hanging out with both of them at the same time feels so right. I hope in the fall, when we’re all in Springfield, they can be friends too. Just friends though.
It’s a silly thought to have, but the point remains: I need to convince both myself and Jack that when Autumn does meet someone again, I’ll be ready to let her go this time.
“Hey, Finn,” Jack says. “Come get your cleats out of my car.” He’s getting ready to leave, and my cleats are not in his car. His car is a dumpster, and I’d never leave something of mine there, even cleats.
“Sure.” I glance at Autumn before I get up. She’s nestled in a blanket, finishing the glass of water I got her and having another slice of toast. I take note again of how unfair it is that she can be so beautiful while hungover.
I walk Jack to his car, and when he turns to me with that look on his face, I know what he’s going to say. I open my mouth.
He beats me to speaking. “Your story doesn’t make sense.”
That’s not what I expected.
“My story?”
“That she knows but also simultaneously doesn’t know that you’re in love with her.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It basically is. Maybe you are the two stupidest people on earth who somehow don’t realize you’re in love with each other, but I’m leaning toward she knows you love her and she’s fucking with you to make herself feel better.”
“That is not—“
He gives me a look, and I stop talking.
“Break up with Sylvie tomorrow. Call me after. Think about what I said.”
“Fine.” I shrug one shoulder and look away.
“We’re cool?”
I meet his eyes again. “Yeah.”
He nods and leaves. I head back inside.
I wonder if I should have pretended to go upstairs and put away my imaginary cleats before sitting next to her on the couch, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“Did you have fun?” I ask her.
She smiles faintly. “You were right about that fourth drink and maybe about Jack’s bartending skills.”
“I was definitely right about both things. You’re looking better though.”
She looks amazing; that’s how she looks by default.
“The toast helped. Thanks.” She flashes me another smile, which fills me with warmth.
“Just a trick I learned.”
From taking care of Sylvie, I don’t say.
“I think I’m going to go home and take a shower,” she says.
I’m surprised and disappointed. I feel myself blink.
“Okay.” Perhaps it’s for the best. I need to collect my thoughts. Figure out what I’m going to say to Sylvie tomorrow.
Autumn stretches her arms above her head and groans before getting up, and I wish I could have that moment, like so many others, on instant replay.
She calls, “Bye, Finny!” over her shoulder as she heads to her house next door.
I pause, then rush to my room to catch another glimpse of her before she goes inside, perhaps see her again when she goes to her room, since our windows are across from each other.
Not that I’m trying to see her in any state of undress. Believe me, I’ve had my chances, and there’ve been close calls, but I’ve always made myself close my curtains when she forgets to close hers. Today though, she comes into her room and closes the curtains with efficiency. I leave my curtains open and stretch out on my bed. I should be thinking about what my mother and Jack have said to me about my relationship—my friendship—with Autumn. They both agree that I need to tell her.
But all I can think about is
Autumn. The way her brown eyes shone as we built the tent yesterday. The way I could smell her soft hair as she was curled up against me this morning. The way she had arched her back and made that noise before getting off the couch. That she is now undressing to take a shower.
I am thinking about Autumn intensely, but not in a way that is going to make me feel better, now or in the long run.
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