Chapter 31 – Isabelle

I feel bad for not texting Grayson all weekend, but I needed time to think. And that’s all I did, too. Think. Obsess. Change my mind. Pray. Think some more. I’m sick of my own thoughts, but at least I know now what I need to do. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to approach Grayson. He just parked his bike and is hanging his helmet on the handlebar. My heart is in my throat, and my legs tremble with a mix of nerves and sadness.

“Hey, can we talk?”

He turns to me, his expression both shocked and pleased. “Yeah, of course.”

The sun is shining, and the air is fairly warm. Still, a shiver forces its way through me. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that day at the hospital.”

He removes his backpack from his bike and slips his arms through the straps. “And?”

“I meant it when I said I forgive you.” I glance around the student parking lot. It’s almost full, but most students have already headed inside. “And it means so much that you went out of your way to apologize.”

“But?” He raises a brow.

“But.” My stomach somersaults, and I’m not sure I can say what I know I need to say. “My life is such a mess right now, Grayson.” I sigh. “My mom’s in rehab for at least six months, maybe longer, and she’s doing everything she can to get out. She spent all week fighting the nurses and therapists. My dad is trying to find a job closer to home so he can be here for me. I’m barely talking to my friends. I haven’t been going to church or youth group. And I’m so far behind in all of my classes.”

When I was rehearsing this little speech in my head last night, it sounded so much better than it does right now. I’m rambling, but I don’t know how to stop. He stares at me, not speaking.

“I just…I need some time to get my life together, y’know? I need to focus.” I chew on my bottom lip and shift on my feet. “And I’m not sure being with you is the best thing for me right now.” My heart thuds painfully in my chest.

“Oh.” He frowns.

“I’m sorry. I like you. I really do. But I need to do this for me.” God, please help him understand. I blow out a shaky breath.

“I apologized, Belle. And you forgave me.” He shakes his head with confusion. “I don’t understand why…”

“I know. But you’re a distraction—a good one—and I have to get my life together.”

Grayson takes a step away, and I hold my breath, fully expecting him to walk away and leave me standing here. Thankfully, he doesn’t. “I can help, you know.”

“No, you can’t.” My voice shakes, and I force myself to stay calm and firm. “The first time something went wrong, you jumped to the worst possible conclusion about me. You didn’t trust me enough to know I’d never do anything like that to you.”

“Belle. I—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. There’s no way I’m going to get through this if he keeps talking, because he’s the one person in the world who can convince me my decision might not be the right one. I’m already wondering if it’s right.

“I know this is hard, but please try to understand. I don’t need to worry right now that you’re going to overreact about something that’s not even my fault.”

“Are you serious?” He narrows his eyes. “I know I made a mistake. And I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Tears burn the back of my throat, and I swallow hard against them.

“So, that’s it?”

I nod, unable to speak.

“You’re a hypocrite, you know that?” There’s an edge to his tone, and I cringe.

“Excuse me?” I cross my arms. In all the times I played this scene out in my head last night, he never accused me of hypocrisy.

“You’re accusing me of thinking the worst of you, and I admit I did that. But aren’t you doing the same thing right now? You automatically assume I’m going to mess up again. How’s that fair?”

Tears pool in my eyes, and I blink them away, but a few escape and trickle down my cheeks. He’s right. It’s not fair, but this isn’t about being fair. It’s about what’s best for me, and right now, the best thing is to make a clean break so I can get my life back on track.

“Whatever.” He sighs heavily and then walks away.

I stare after him. I know I need to let him go, but the urge to chase after him is overwhelming. But my fear is even greater, so I stay rooted in place until I can no longer see him. Then, I make my way into school. The final bell is ringing, and I rush to class without going to my locker. Spanish is going to be awkward.

When I enter the room, I drop my missing assignments onto ’s desk.

“Gracias,” she says.

“De nada.” I take my seat. Grayson’s head is down, and he’s staring at his phone. He can be as mad at me as he wants, but we’re partners on this project, and he’s going to have to talk to me about that, at least.

“So, I know I’m a little behind on our project, but if you want to get together to work on it…” I say. “Maybe we can work on it during study hall next period?”

“Sure.” He doesn’t look up from his phone.

“I know you’re mad at me, and probably a little hurt, too, but we have to do this project together.”

“I know.” He slides his phone into his bag. “ gave us an extension on the proposal, so we need to get that done.”

“Did you ask her for an extension?”

“No. She offered, and I figured with everything you had going on…” He shrugs.

Wow. That’s so sweet of him. Maybe I’m wrong—maybe he will learn from what happened and not make the same mistakes. I’m sure I made the right choice, though, and there’s nothing inside me encouraging me to do anything different. Why does this have to be so hard?

“It’s due Friday,” he says.

“Thanks.”

He nods. We’re silent as preps the television—great, another video.

“Can you promise me something?” he asks.

“What?”

“Don’t change, okay? Whatever you’re doing to get your life together…don’t let it change who you are.” His gaze is so serious that any sarcastic remark I was going to make dies on my tongue.

“Don’t worry. I’m just finally realizing who I am and what I want. Nothing and no one is going to take that away from me.”

“Good.” He shifts his chair closer to mine. “Would it be okay if we still went to church together? As friends?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” I glance away. I know I’m responsible for getting him to go back to church, and I feel like a jerk for turning my back on him now, especially when he seems to actually like going. But until other parts of my life are back in order, I can’t commit to doing this with him. “I’m sorry.”

“Right.”

I sigh. “Sundays are family days at the rehab center. And it’s like a three-hour drive, so I probably won’t be going to church for a while.”

“What about youth group?”

I shake my head. “I really just need to be with my family right now.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and I worry he doesn’t understand. I’m not sure I understand anymore. I just have to trust that God knows what He’s doing.

***

One Month Later…

It’s been a little over a month since my mom was in the hospital and I officially ended things with Grayson. Thanksgiving is two weeks away, and no one seems to care, myself included. Every day is harder than the last, and there isn’t a minute that goes by that I don’t want to find Grayson and tell him how wrong it feels not to be with him. It consumes me. But I don’t because what if he can’t forgive me? Also, deep down, I still believe this was the best decision. Not forever, but for now. Brandon used to say God always answers our prayers: Sometimes yes, sometimes no, sometimes wait. So, I'm waiting.

Things in my life are slowly getting better. Mom made it through detox and is learning ways to cope with her alcoholism. She’s also finally facing her grief over Brandon’s death. Her doctor is optimistic that once she grieves properly, she won’t need to rely on alcohol to dull her pain.

There’s still one major thing I have to do, though, and it’s going to be one of the hardest things ever. I flex my fingers and then shake the nerves from my hands. I can do this. Blowing out a breath, I knock. A second later, the door opens.

“Isabelle?”

“Hey, Hannah.” I wave and then quickly lower my hand. “Can we talk?”

Without a word, she steps aside and motions for me to come in. Like every other time I’ve been here, we race down the hall and into her room.

She closes the door and leans against it. “So, what’s up?”

“Where do I start?” I flop down on her bed, just like I always have, and rub my hands over my face. “I’ve been lying to you. About almost everything, and I can’t keep doing this. I miss you, Hannah. I miss us—the way we used to be.”

“I miss you, too.” She hesitates and then crosses the room. She lowers herself onto the bed next to me. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Just like I did with Sandra, I pour my guts out to Hannah. I tell her everything—every gritty, embarrassing detail about my mom’s drinking, my dad’s absence, the fire, how Cam kissed me even though I didn’t want him to, and how I ended things with Grayson.

Hannah listens without interruption, and when I finish my confession, she wipes tears from her eyes. “Isabelle… I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” She throws her arms around me so tightly we tumble backward onto the mattress.

I lay there, hugging my best friend like she’s my lifeline. My face is buried in her neck, and my body shakes with sobs. The minutes tick by, neither of us moving until eventually I release her and draw in a deep breath.

She moves so she’s cross-legged on the bed, and I mimic her position. “Thank you,” I say.

Hannah takes my hands and bows her head. “Dear God, please forgive me for not being a better friend to Isabelle, for not seeing how much pain she’s been in. Please help her forgive me, too, and—”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, Hannah. I—”

“Hush. I’m praying.”

I crack a small smile and press my lips closed, allowing her to finish her prayer.

“God, please help Isabelle through her pain. Show her the way and help her and her family heal. Amen.”

“Amen,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ve got work to do.” She bounces off the bed and over to her desk. Grabbing a notebook and pen, she holds them up.

“What’re those for?”

“We’re making you a new list.” She returns to the bed.

“We are?”

She nods and writes across the top of a blank page: How to Make Everything Right Again. Then, she looks up at me expectantly. “Where do you want to start?”

“With Andrea. I miss her, too.” I frown and fidget with the comforter. Andrea and I have said and done some very hurtful things to each other, and it’s like a black cloud squeezing my heart. I can’t believe we let a guy come between us, especially someone like Cam.

“Good!” Hannah writes: talk to Andrea and apologize. “She misses you, too, y’know.”

“She does?”

“Yes. She’s been wanting to apologize for the things she said last time you two talked, and for slapping you, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Or if you’d even talk to her.”

“Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have talked to her, but I’m ready now. If she is.”

“She is.” Hannah nods with a matter-of-fact finality. “I’ll tell her to meet you in the library tomorrow during lunch. You should go talk to her then.”

The thought of actually going through with it makes my stomach churn, but it’s something I have to do, something I want to do. No matter how hard or uncomfortable it may be, by this time tomorrow, I will have my other best friend back in my life.

“Okay, I will,” I say with a confidence I’m not sure I feel. “What about Cam? I am so angry at him for what he did, and I want an apology.” Just thinking about how he messed everything up makes my blood boil.

“Forget Cam. He’s a loser.”

I laugh. “Hannah!”

“What?” She shrugs innocently. “He is. I mean, c’mon. He cheats on you, dumps you, messes up your friendship with Andrea… Then he comes crawling back like he’s the coolest thing since cell phones were invented, expecting you to get back together with him. He screws things up for you with Grayson… No. You just need to forget all about him.” With a determined set of her lips, she writes: Forget Cam exists. Completely and forever.

“And seriously”—she glances up—“you don’t need an apology from him. We both know he won’t really mean it anyway.”

“Thanks, Hannah.”

She continues making the list, adding: Go back to church and youth group. Rejoin choir.

“I don’t know about that…”

“About what?”

“Choir.”

She studies me a moment and then adds the word “maybe” in front of “rejoin.” Hannah sets the pen and notebook on her bedside table. She pins me with a no-nonsense stare. “I didn’t tell you this because we really haven’t been talking all that much lately, and I didn’t want to upset you. But… Vick and I have been going to that new church with Grayson.”

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded. I stand and pace the room, trying to wrap my mind around what she just said.

“Yeah. Vick and Grayson have become really good friends, and Grayson’s been having a really hard time lately. Please don’t be mad.”

I turn to face her. “I’m not mad. I’m just…shocked. Vick is going to church?”

She laughs. “I know, right? I couldn’t believe it at first, either, but he really likes it.”

“That’s great.” I return to my position on the bed. “Thank you for being there for Grayson during all of this. And for me.”

“Yeah, well, I am awesome.”

I grab a pillow and playfully smack her with it. She laughs, her eyes vibrant and happy. “Oh! There’s one more thing you have to do.” Giggling, she grabs the notebook and pen and writes: Give Grayson a kiss he’ll never forget.

Now that’s something I can definitely do