Only Mostly Devastated

by Sophie Gonzales

How many times had I thought Will seemed too perfect to exist? Well, joke was on me, in the end. He was.

A week later, and I was still getting lost more often than the girl in the Labyrinth movie, except I didn’t even have David Bowie in tights as a reward for my efforts.

Note to self: carry bass around everywhere and break into impromptu solo whenever anyone tries to force you into conversation. Foolproof.

Here walks Ollie Di Fiore. Master of his feelings, expert detacher, only mostly devastated. Now there was something to put on my tombstone.

I was starting to imagine how the clarinet would sound covering Nightwish or something—epic, probably—

It’s funny how you can spend weeks, or months, or sometimes even years preparing yourself for a nightmare that’s more “when” than “if.” Then just when you’re fooling yourself that you’ve accepted the world’s end, and you’ll roll with the impact when it hits … suddenly, it might be hitting, and you’re not rolling. You’re collapsing, sitting where you stood, totally overwhelmed by a loss you were never really ready for.

Goddamn, kids get excited about McDonald’s. Got to give that clown one thing, he knows how to target a vulnerable audience. Any other middle-aged man wearing a clown costume and luring kids in with toys and music and sugar would be arrested, but not good old Ronald.

Oh my God she totally eavesdropped on my text. Or, like … eyesdropped. What was the visual equivalent of eavesdropping?

From that point on, I guess Will and I were kind of seeing each other. I say “kind of,” because we never labeled it. That, and the fact that it was still a bigger secret than the aliens the government have locked in a warehouse somewhere. And let’s be honest, the government definitely has aliens locked in a warehouse somewhere. The government is just being coy about it.

“Sometimes I think I don’t like him very much.” Lara shrugged. “Hate away. I’ve hated Renee for over a year now, I think. Doesn’t mean I don’t love her.” “Isn’t that a contradiction?” “Nope. Apathy is incompatible with hate. Love works okay.”

All this time, I’d been wondering when my needs would start to really matter to him. Maybe I hadn’t spent enough time wondering when my needs would start to really matter to me.

“How did all three of you get into this much drama in the two days I was off school?”

But they wouldn’t, they wouldn’t have done any of that, because in stories guys fight. They fight for the person they care about, and they don’t give up, ever.

In real life, though, sometimes you beg for them to care, and they just don’t. And then they go quiet. And they let you walk away without much of a fight at all.

And life was too short to play chicken with something as important as the person you loved.

“We still haven’t had dinner. But, Will?” He jumped. “Remember what we told you.” As they walked out of the building, their heads bowed together so they could speak in low voices, I turned to Will. “What did they tell you?” His eyes were glassy, and he drew in a ragged, shaky breath. “That they both love me.” Oh. Oh, thank God.

Maybe our Happily Ever After hadn’t worked on the first shot. And maybe Happily Ever Afters weren’t a singular event. Maybe they were something you had to work at, and build, and never give up on, as long as they were something you still wanted.