Filed to story: If He Had Been With Me Book PDF Free
We ate, and I was glad when Autumn and her friends left so they couldn’t see how awkward Sylvie and I were together. Afterward, we walked to the park and sat on a hill, and Sylvie told me about Mr. Wilbur.
Sylvie explained how in seventh grade, this teacher was interested in helping her develop her many talents. He’d offered to personally tutor her, talking about how he would prep her to finish high school early so she could start college classes at sixteen. Sylvie’s parents had thought this was evidence of how intellectually gifted she truly was.
Wilbur had taken his time with his motives. He claimed disappointment again and again in Sylvie’s progress, asking her why she refused to work as hard for him as he worked for her. He isolated her from her friends and had her drop her other activities to focus on her studies. And then came the comments about her needing to cover up, how he was a man after all, and she was so pretty. It wasn’t until midway through the second semester of eighth grade that he’d finally told her that she’d disappointed him academically and tempted him sexually too many times. She owed him, he’d said.
Luckily, someone had walked in.
“We got caught,” Sylvie said, then frowned and corrected herself. “Someone walked in, and he got caught.”
“Yeah, they caught him,” I agreed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were rescued.” I wanted to say so much more, about how strong she was, how her intelligence wasn’t a lie he told her but a fact he exploited.
Sylvie shrugged. “A bit late anyway.”
We were sitting on this hill that overlooked the lake. It was too hot to be comfortable, but neither of us said anything about it. I was horrified to find myself frozen, unable to offer comfort or support. I simply sat there next to her and listened.
“So,” Sylvie continued, and for the first time in nearly an hour, she looked over at me. “I see this therapist once a month, and the point of me telling you all this is because you were right.”
My brow furrowed in confusion, and I blinked at her.
“About the Ferris wheel. I told Dr. Giles about our fight, and I talked with him about why I did it. It’s just—“
“Sylvie, it doesn’t matter.”
“No,” she said. “It does matter. I need you to understand this. Wilbur was awful to me, but his approval was like getting high. He had me so desperate for his validation that it was such a rush when it came. I don’t know. Dr. Giles says sometimes I miss that feeling. I”—she rolled her eyes here—“‘act out,’ but maybe he has a point.”
“I think I understand,” I said. It was all I had to offer her. I’d hurt her to protect my old wound with Autumn, never wondering if she had her own. I was appalled at myself and amazed by her strength and dignity.
“The thing I’m trying to work out with Dr. Giles,” Sylvie said, no longer looking at me, “is when I’m being me and when I’m being the way Mr. Wilbur made me think about myself. The Ferris wheel thing…I am working on it, okay?”
“Sylvie—” I started.
She held up a hand like before, and I fell silent.
“Wilbur tried to steal my high school years from me. No friends, no parties, just him and some community college classes as he fooled my parents into thinking he was preparing me for Harvard. I switched schools, and I’m doing all the high school things: cheerleading, student council, dance committees. I want to have fun, wild times and make normal teenage mistakes.”
“I’m sorry you went through that. I’m sorry I said—“
“Let me finish, Finn. My ambition? That was always me, not Mr. Wilbur, though he exploited it. So when I say that I want to do all the high school stuff, I mean it. That’s the plan, and that’s really me.”
She glanced at me, and I nodded. I could see that.
She continued, “And part of that is, you know, having a high school boyfriend. But Dr. Giles says that I can’t be with someone who makes me feel insecure.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—“
“What I need to hear, Finn,” Sylvie said, “is that you want to be with me. That I’m not the convenient choice for you because you can’t be with the person you actually want.”
She looked at me, calm and measured, ready for my response, whatever it would be.
“You are so strong,” I said, because it was true. I was trying to unscramble what I could say that was honest. It was convenient to be with her. Autumn didn’t love me. But I genuinely wanted to be with Sylvie. I told her, “I want to be with you. And everything you’ve told me just makes me respect you more. I love you, Sylvie.” I’d never used the L word around her before, and I felt a moment of panic, but she smiled softly.
“And?” Sylvie said.
“I don’t know what more you want me to say,” I lied.
“That you don’t want to be with anyone else. That you only want to be with me,” Sylvie said.
I put my arm around her. I didn’t do public displays of affection much, especially that first year. She leaned in.
“Sylvie, you are one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen in my entire life. And the smartest. You’re so driven. Before meeting you, I’d never realized how attractive ambition is to me.” I kissed her forehead before continuing, “I want to do all the high school stuff with you, Sylvie—all the dances, events, and traditions that you want. We’ll go to parties and make stupid mistakes that turn into hilarious stories.” I went on like that for a while, making promises about all the stuff we would do together over the next three years as I held her close. I ended by saying, “I love you, Sylvie,” again and kissed her until we were breathless.
At the time, I thought that she hadn’t noticed what I had not said, but I was wrong.
Autumn stirs in her sleep. For my own protection, I shift her head off my shoulder and onto a pillow. I glance at the clock. It’s seven in the morning. Today I must tell Sylvie that I’m choosing Autumn over her, like she’s always feared.
I lie on my side and let myself stare at Autumn’s face until finally sleep comes.
She pummels me awake several times, and perhaps the noises I make as the blows land wake her too. Each time I’m falling back asleep, I reach for her, her face, her hands. I try to whisper, though I’m not sure the words ever leave my mouth, “I love you.”
twelve
I wake.
My phone.
It’s ringing, inside the pocket of my jeans, on the floor, where I tossed them when Autumn and I—
She stirs next to me. I hurry off the bed and try to stop the ringing before it wakes her. I see the name I expect. I decline the call. When I look up, Autumn is watching me.
“Hey.” I’m not so sorry to see her awake.
“Was that her?” Autumn asks.
I set my phone on the nightstand. It’s one thirty in the afternoon.
“Does it matter?” I ask. I want it to be only us, as much as possible for as long as possible.
“Yes.”
“It was.”
Autumn looks down. Her pink lips purse. I drop my jeans and climb back in bed.
“Come here.” Pulling her to me is a relief.
Autumn snuggles against me, and when she shifts her face, she breathes in deeply. It feels like she’s breathing in the scent of me the same way I have with her. I’m struck again by my new reality. She loves me. Autumn is in love with me, definitively. It’s so much more than I ever could have imagined.
All these years I’d fantasized about Autumn physically, I never let myself think about what it would be like to be her boyfriend, not consciously at least.
I’ve always been a vivid dreamer though. I could control my thoughts when I was awake, but at night, my brain dwelled on its secret obsession. It was a frequent, recurring dream over the years that Autumn and I were a couple. Always, like my conscious fantasies, there was no explanation of how we got there. We would simply be together.
No matter what the dream with Autumn was about—whether it was set in deep space or in a version of McClure High School with upside-down halls—I always felt such a sense of relief when I dreamed that we were together. It was like the dream was my reality, and when I woke, I was in a nightmare where Autumn and I were both dating other people and weren’t even friends. I’d denied my feelings to Jack, to Sylvie, to myself, but my brain had continued to stubbornly insist that Autumn and I were supposed to be together. I’d thought that it was my lust and jealousy mixing to give me the delusion that an error had been made and the matchups that kept us apart were all a big mistake.
But.
Here we are.
“Do you feel guilty?” Autumn’s voice is feather light, like she’s trying to gently blow the words from her mouth.