“That’s horrible.” I felt tears well in my eyes. “I thought he was meant to be a good person.”

“In his eyes, he was the best human being he thought he could be.” The old lady paused to sip some coffee. “But he never looked past himself.”

“What happened next?” I leaned forward. “Did John feel guilty? Did he go and help the man’s other kids and wife? Did he start to give free food to the people in the village.”

“John got a guy so that he wouldn’t be bothered by the people in the village following him.”

“Oh.” It was not the ending I had expected or hoped for. I felt disappointed. “So what was the point of the story? John didn’t learn anything. He still never helped those people.”

“That’s because John never had a moment where he realized that he was self-absorbed and that there was another reality outside of his own.”

“I see.” But I didn’t really.

“Lexi—you realize that, even though you’ve been hurt, there are others who are also hurting and that, perhaps, you have been blind to those hurts.”

I nodded my head slowly at her words, shocked that she seemed to see inside the depths of my soul, that I was hiding, even from myself.

“It’s hard to acknowledge that we aren’t who we’ve always thought we were.”

“I’ve tried to be a good friend…” The words tripped from my mouth. “I don’t even know how to feel. I’ve been betrayed, but I also feel like a betrayer.”

“Life is never black and white, my dear.”

“And what makes it worse is that it was my best friend who betrayed me. She slept with a guy I’ve been in love with, well, I think I love him, for years. How could she do that to me?”

“And that makes you feel angry. And confused. But you are more confused because there is another man who holds your heart. And, once again, your friend is a part of that equation.”

“How did you know that?’ My mouth dropped open again and she smiled at me.

“I’m a psychic, dear.” She put her coffee cup down and leaned towards me. “The simplest path is to follow your heart, my dear.”

“But I don’t know what my heart is telling me.” I closed my eyes. “I think I love them both. Bryce has been my dream man for years. I never thought I had a chance with him. He’s handsome, he’s charming, he’s broken and he needs me. I feel like I’m all he has.

“But then there’s Luke. He’s been my best friend for years. My shoulder to cry on. My laugh buddy. The only one who has always been there for me. No matter what. He has always been there for me. And he loves me. I think, I think he’s always loved me. I just never wanted to see it. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose him.

“And then there’s Anna. My dearest, wonderful Anna. My oldest friend. I thought we were like two peas in a pod. I always thought that we were the same—just different bodies. But we’re not. I know that now. I’ve never really listened to her. I’ve never really tried to figure out what she wanted. I just always assumed everything was great because, in comparison to me, I thought it was.”

“And why is that, Lexi?”

“She has a dad who loves her. He’ll do anything for her. She’s wanted and loved. Her parents tried for ten years to get pregnant with her. She was their miracle child.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“I’m jealous.” A tear ran down my face as I stared at the wall, unseeing. “I just want to be wanted. My mom, my mom is crazy. I love her but she’s crazy. I had hoped my dad wanted me, but he didn’t care. I went to see him and he pretended he had no idea who I was. He dismissed me. I’d always hoped that he would want to take me in. That he had missed me so much that he wanted me to be in his life.” I sobbed as the memories of my dad’s dismissal played out in my head. “ I just wanted him to love me.”

“He does love you, Lexi.”

“No he doesn’t,” I sobbed.

“He loves you in the best way that he can. Did you know he was addicted to meth?”

“What?”

“And he’s been in and out of jail. He did the right thing by you, Lexi. It may not seem that way now. But your life is better without him in it.”

“It just hurts inside. I don’t know why I’m so unlovable.”

“Oh, but Lexi, you’re far from unlovable.”

“It doesn’t feel that way. I just feel so empty and lonely inside.”

“You’ve had a lot to deal with. And a lot you’ve never dealt with.”

“I just don’t know how.”

“You’re not alone, you know.” She smiled at me gently. “Your loved one. He has a similar feeling in his soul. A hollowness he’s never shared with anyone.”

“Who? Bryce?”

“You’ll know when the time comes. You’re not quite as alone as you think. There are many secrets in families that some of us would never even guess existed.”

“I guess.” I sighed, suddenly tired. “So what do I do now?”

“I can’t tell you what to do.” She sat back and shook her head. “That’s not what I’m here for. I can’t make your decisions for you.”

“But can’t you tell me what the right decision should be?”

“I will tell you what you need to hear. I want you to make the decision that makes you happy. I want you to go outside and listen to the birds chirp and whistle, follow the light of the sun, touch the fragrant petals in my garden and breathe in the fresh air of nature. I want you to listen to the beat of your heart and then I want you to close your eyes. Go and lie in a meadow and stare at the sky. The answers will come.”

“Uhm, okay.” I frowned. I didn’t want to tell her that she hadn’t been very helpful but she really hadn’t. Next thing she’ll be telling me to listen to the whispers of a butterfly.

“Life is not quite as complicated as we try to make it, my dear. And friendships are never broken until we cut them.”

“I see.” I stood up, slightly frustrated. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’re sure.” I walked towards the front door, feeling guilty and she patted me on the back and smiled.

“And dear, only the black swallowtails are worth listening to.”

“Uh, okay.” I walked out the door confused, wondering if perhaps she had dementia and if I’d been part of some elaborate ruse. As I walked to my car, I decided to pull out my phone and looked up black swallowtail on Google. I might as well know what she’s talking about.

“A butterfly.” I said aloud to myself. “It’s a butterfly.” I bit my lip and looked back at the house, wondering if she was a mind reader. I didn’t even know her name. I sat in my car for a second, unsure of where to go. I felt like I had been in her house for a few hours, but when I checked the time it had only been forty-five minutes. I rolled my window down and let the cool breeze flow into my car. I took a deep breath and let the scent of the road take over my senses. And then I started my car. I knew where I wanted to go. I wanted to go to Jonesville High, back where everything had started. I wanted to go to the football field.

***

I was alone in the field, feeling a little bit like a fool. I was twenty-two years old and lying in the middle of a high school football field. As I lay there, I realized that so many of my problems were related to Jonesville High. And that, perhaps, was a problem in of itself. I was twenty-two now. I shouldn’t be living in my past. I shouldn’t be living for the dreams and memories of my high school self.

I closed my eyes and I breathed deeply and then stared up at the sky. It was an off-white blue grey. It looked like it was going to rain, but I continued to stare until an overwhelming sense of wellbeing filled me. I felt light and happy and alive. I felt like there was nothing too big that I couldn’t handle. It was time for me to grow up. I was responsible for my own happiness in life. I couldn’t place blame on anything else. It was like my dream of being an actress.

I had always said I never really wanted to be an actress, but it was just a lie. I was scared of people laughing at that dream, it seemed so lofty and unachievable. So I pretended I only wanted to be one to be admired. I hadn’t even been brave enough to try out for the drama club in high school, even though I had gone to every play, secretly and by myself. That was a dream that I had never told anyone. Because I was scared. But I didn’t want to be scared any more. I didn’t want to be unsure.

And then his face popped into my head. And he was smiling at me. He was telling me that this was the moment I had to make a decision. And I could see the exact crinkle of his eyes as he smiled at me. That pure, genuine, loving smile. And I wondered how I’d never noticed the pain in his eyes before. I had studied them so much. But all I had seen was his façade.

And I thought of the morning and the anger and happiness I had felt being around him. And the confusion. And the pain. But, more than the confusion and the pain, I felt the happiness and the love. And I knew. I had always known. He was the one that I loved. He was the one that I was made for. He was my one and only. He always had been. I couldn’t believe that I had ever questioned it.

I jumped up and ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. I had to go and see him. I needed to tell him that, no matter what happened, we could work through it. I needed him to know that I was here for him one hundred percent. The past didn’t matter. It would never matter. Jealousy had no place in our lives. Both of us would have to get over our insecurities.

I knew that, together, we could get through anything. I’d never felt so excited or scared in my life. I knew that he might not want to hear it. I wasn’t sure where his head was after everything that had happened, but I had a feeling I knew where he was and I was going to try my hardest to get him to talk. I wanted to get him to understand why I had been the way I was earlier. I knew I had hurt him. I knew he was hurting now. I didn’t know if I could take away his pain completely, but I could try to absolve as much of it as possible.

I tried not to speed as I drove, but I was anxious and excited. I saw the sign for Harpers creek and I gripped the steering wheel with a thudding heart. I had finally made a decision; a decision that I hadn’t consciously thought needed to be made in my whole life. It had taken being told that Luke had died to make me realize the depth of his importance in my life. And then, hearing him tell me that he loved me had broken me and I had wanted to scream at him, “Don’t do this, don’t do this. Not now. I can’t take this!” And it had killed me to see the pain in his eyes. But I also knew that Bryce was in need of my love more than anything in the world. My Bryce. The guy I had spent my whole high school life loving.

I gulped as I saw the second sign for Harpers Creek and my heart felt like it was going to break out of my chest. I felt excited and sad all at the same time. I knew that my decision was going to end up breaking someone’s heart.

Chapter 4

Bryce

There’s something about the sound of silence that makes you feel comforted. Maybe it’s because when we’re in silence we don’t have to bother with the externalities around us. In war, the sound of silence is never a good thing. It means we are waiting for something big to happen and we don’t want to be heard. The eerie sound of silence while you are at war is usually followed by a deafening bellow; a scream or an explosion and then all that calmness vanishes. The calmness vanishes and chaos ensues.

Silence can indicate impending doom, but as I lay here in the most deafening silence, I wasn’t scared. The doom had already happened. My life was already over. I was a zombie now. Living, but not really. I was one of the walking dead. I laughed to myself at my joke. Maybe there was a reason I enjoyed watching the show so much on TV. Maybe I knew that I was soon to be a part of them; one of the tribe.

I walked to the riverbank and saw the little bubbles indicating that fish were swimming by—how easy their life must be, I thought. How simple and refreshing. Maybe I could catch a few and take them home for my mom to cook. I was about to go to my car to grab a hook, but then I remembered my mom wasn’t here any more. She wasn’t going to be frying up any more of the fish I caught. She wasn’t going to be there to ask me what food I wanted her to prepare for a dinner party, we weren’t going to watch Jeopardy together any more, or to talk about football games. I laughed as I thought about how much my mom used to love to talk about football. More than any guy I ever knew. I think it was because her cousins had all been into football, so she had grown up talking about football every holiday season.

She’d been so proud of me as the quarterback. She’d come to every single game. She didn’t miss one. Not a one. But she had never been disappointed when I had turned Notre Dame down; even though I knew she had been excited to come up to the games. She’d always told me that whatever I wanted to do was fine by her and that she would always love and support me. And she had. She’d loved me through everything. And she’d cried with me when Eddie died. It was as if she had known that I felt guilty. She had been home the night Eddie and I had fought. She’d seen him running and crying, heard me banging the walls. And then, he’d died. And I had broken down. But mom had been there for me.

“Say hi to Eddie for me, Mom.” I whispered to the river. Maybe my mom was telling Eddie how sorry I was about what happened. Maybe they were catching up and laughing about all the things he and I used to do to cause trouble when we were youngsters. It was thoughts like that that made it easier for me to breathe. To exist. I wanted to go home and grab my bottle of pills. I knew they would help me. I knew that they would numb the pain and the crushing fire that burned inside of me. But I resisted. I had to resist. I knew that if I didn’t start resisting the urge to pop a pill, I’d be seeing the other side of a grave myself. And I knew that I didn’t want that. Not now and not that way.