If He Had Been with Me

by Laura Nowlin

My mother has always said that my father will teach me to drive someday, and I’m still waiting for that day. For now, it doesn’t matter; there is never a place I want to be that Jamie isn’t going too.

Jamie lays one hand on my back and talks to Sasha about a movie they both want to see that I don’t.

SASHA, NO!

Jamie, Finn, sit back down please,” I hear him say as I run into the hallway.

STOP! I'M KINDA HATING FINNY FOR ONLY LIKING HER WHEN SHE'S NOT WELL/WHEN HE'S DRUNK. I HATE NONCHALANT MEN. BE CHALANT.

I’d always wondered how someone like Finny could be friends with girls like them; apparently he doesn’t realize what kind of girls they are. I understand that. I used to not know either. And Finny always thinks the best of people; perhaps he thought that they asked if I was pregnant out of concern.

My Finny.

He isn’t your Finny.

Rory, go away.

We’d lie side by side, staring at the tree, adorned with either my mother’s perfectly color-coordinated, store-bought glass ornaments or his mother’s mismatched decorations: exotic beaded tassels from India and her own eccentric creations of clay or paper.

“Thanks, Finny,” I say as I sit back down on the floor. He only nods, but then he smiles softly when I put the tiara on my head along with the first one.

“The breakup,” she says. I catch myself before I stop in my tracks from surprise.

HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS COMING?!

I remember the couple of times I saw Finny cry when we were kids. My throat tightens. “Fuck you, Sylvie,” I say.

Mike dumped Angie.

ANGIE MY LOVE

For days, it felt like I had been punched in the stomach. It was like I couldn’t breathe, like something had been ripped from my abdomen. The feeling was so distinctive; it was different from any other kind of sadness I had known before or since. Watching Angie cry reminds me of that feeling. It’s like smelling the pungent flavor of a sickening food I had once eaten. I never want to feel like that again.

I try to picture Jamie and me breaking up. My first reaction is a shocking sense of relief; if Jamie and I broke up, it would mean that he wasn’t the great love of my life; I wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore that I sometimes think about being with someone else, wondering if it would be better, maybe even perfect with him.

i have this deep fear that i'd never be any good in a relationship. i imagine myself feeling this way about anyone and no one at the same time. The whole being with someone and having to never think of 'what if it wasn't them', how do people do it? maybe i'm just as immature as Autumn.

Everyone always says you never get over your first love. I imagine myself with someone else and longing for Jamie, my first love. I take a deep breath and remind myself that will never happen; Jamie says he’s going to marry me.

my sweet summer child.

I put on the snowflake tiara for school; it’s my new favorite, and I wear it every day that there is snow on the ground.

i wonder if she's told jamie who gave it

I envy the jacket. I know which tiara I would wear with it, but Jamie told me he wouldn’t like me in it. He said it works for Sasha because she’s boyish, but he likes me feminine.

Jamie and Sasha? i feel like they're together behind Autumn's back. i hate the two of them right now. i HATE jamie

I just told everybody I had a family thing I couldn’t get out of. I try to leave Finny out of our conversations as much as possible. It’s too weird for them to be reminded that the boy who is supposed to be one of our enemies at school is family to me at home.

hill. I like how the thrill of fear makes me instinctively grab at him.

My annoyance at her suddenly shifts to Jamie for making me go down the stupid ramp with him. I have a moment of fury. I hate it when he convinces me to do things I don’t want to, and then I remember that I’ll be embarrassed later if I behave emotionally. I slowly move my hand from my face. It’s an effort to fight the instinct to hide my injury. Everyone takes in a sharp breath and stares at me.

Jamie wants me to tell everyone at school that he gave it to me to see their reactions. He thinks it will be funny. “But you did give it to me,” I say. He pulls into the gravel driveway outside my house. “I know. That’s the best part,” he says and grins.

that is what we call the ‘early signs of a domestic abuser.’ also the constant getting her to do things she’s not comfortable with? yeah, both signs.

As I’m filling it, I have a nagging feeling that there was something in my sock drawer that I wouldn’t want Finny to see. It’s odd knowing that he still feels comfortable enough to go into my room and take something of mine, but then I think I would do the same for him if he were hurt.

My voice trails off as I think about it. It makes sense now. Stoic, calm Finny who hates for anyone to suffer, even worms on the sidewalk.

“Doesn’t sound like you at all,” he mumbles. “Teaching, a house, kids. What happened to the turtlenecks and coffee?” “That was a dream,” I say. “I have to accept reality.” Accept when things are as good as they’re ever going to get, I mentally add but do not say.

the old framed photo of us that I hid in the top drawer last year before Jamie came over for the first time. I buried it at the bottom of the drawer, and I’ve hardly seen it since that day. Now it’s sitting on top of the dresser, centered as if on display.

“Finn asked me to,” she says.

I can't imagibe how hard this must be for sylvie though. Twalking to your boyfriebds old childhood friend who still lives next door and have dinners together.

I didn’t though, and so it wasn’t until I walked into Mr. Laughegan’s class that it all made sense. Finny and Sylvie are back together.

Trying to be friendly, she said. That’s the same word he used when I gave him her card on Valentine’s Day; he asked if she had been friendly to me.

It is unlike Finny to cancel on his mother, but I felt odd asking. I have a fear of someone suspecting how often I wonder about Finny. I always try not to show too much interest, just in case.

When I was a student here, anything in the world seemed possible. It hadn’t seemed like a dream to move far away and write books; it had seemed like a plan. At ten, I hadn’t thought wanting to be a writer was impractical;

he wants to buy a house and raise children with me.

HE wants. HE wants. this is not her want because she craves for it, its what she wants because she wants his love. her parents relationship damaged her view of love so much she can't even see herself.

I’m proud of it. I’ll print it off tonight and give it to Jamie tomorrow.

No. I don't like this.

I loved it here, so much that I didn’t even realize I loved it.

I had feared that she would recoil from this teenaged tiara-and-ripped-jeans me, that her affection for me would be reserved for the pretty little girl I had been.

The other winners’ submissions ranged from trite to clichéd; it wasn’t a hard crowd to beat.

I think about Mrs. Morgansen saying we hadn’t changed, and I think of the girl I used to be here, in this school. I want it to be true. I don’t want to be so different from her.

I add up everything I deeply want out of life: writing as much as I can, reading everything, the vague impressions of motherhood I cradle in me, seeing the northern lights and the Southern Cross. And other desires that I don’t let myself think on too long because I’ve already settled that part of my life.

“I think,” I say, “I think we’re supposed to experience as much beauty as we can.”

“You’re just weird.”

This doesn't feel like a joke. This feels like a straight insult.

“Just because I think something different from you doesn’t make me weird.”

“There’s real life and then there are books, Autumn,” Jamie says. “In real life, it would just be sad and stupid.” “How could two people dying for love be stupid?” I say. We are sitting in the dark facing each other in the seats, our seat belts off.

There is real life and then there are books. I try to puzzle out what is real and what isn’t, what I can have and what I never will.

“the way people love each other in real life.”

No.

This book is a treasure; I did not suspect it would be so good when I picked it up, but now I can feel the printed words seeping through my skin and into my veins, rushing to my heart and marking it forever. I want to savor this wonder, this happening of loving a book and reading it for the first time, because the first time is always the best, and I will never read this book for the first time ever again.

Though I am dying to look down again and read more, I’ll sit here and love this book and know that I still have so much more left to read because that won’t be true for very long.

“Try to marry your first love. For the rest of your life, no one will ever treat you as well.”

No, don't do this to me.

“I’m just surprised. And sad.” And jealous, and smug, and worried.

but this one is, to our amusement, on the football team and rather preppy. Angie warns us about this first, swearing that he is actually very cool and knows all sorts of good music. I wonder what kind of warning he is receiving in turn about us.

I had been curious and surprised when I first heard about Dave, but now in person I can see his appeal. He’s bashful and frequently pink-cheeked under his freckles. His smile is crooked and unassuming. By the time we are buying our tickets, I am charmed.

Autumn Davis, Jamie Allen’s girlfriend

To be known as someones partner Instead of your own person, must be terrifying. I hope to make a big enough name for mysel that thy know me for me and nlt my partner.

She doesn’t know Finny well enough to understand how cool it actually is that he has found this calling.

Now that she has said that, i wonder why so many do the job they do and ehy it may be significant to some.