Can’t Let You Go
“Oh, really?” I say, crossing my arms. “Then who’s the right guy for me?”
There it is. Another chance for Bryce to say how he feels about me. Another chance for him to ask me out. But does he do it? Of course not.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know who the right guy is, but I know it’s not Chad.”
I sigh in frustration. “I have to go.” I get in my car. “I’ll see you later.” I pull on the door until he moves enough for me to close it.
“Hey.” He taps on the window as I start the engine.
I roll the window down. “What?”
“Are you going to dinner with him or not?”
Now I’m angry. Bryce always makes me like this. Loving him one minute, hating him the next. Well, it’s not hate, but it’s complete and utter annoyance and frustration.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I say, “but yes, I am going to dinner with him. Goodbye, Bryce.” I roll my window up and pull out of my parking space and drive off. When I glance in the rearview mirror, I see Bryce still standing there, his head hung down, his hands wrapped around the back of his neck. He does that when he’s mad or frustrated. So he feels the same way as me. Good. We can both be miserable.
But why is that good? Why can’t we just be happy? Why can’t we be together like we want to be? And if we’re not going to be together, why aren’t we able to move on and be happy with other people?
Because we’re Jen and Bryce. That’s why. We’re best friends and we love each other and we’re meant to be together. But for some stupid reason we can’t.
And that stupid reason is Bryce.