It Was You Read online

  A familiar face popped up, and I recoiled as if I’d been punched in the stomach. Ella was trying to meet people on a dating app? Well, good for her. I didn’t want her to pursue me forever when I’d clearly told her I wasn’t interested. And yet I was physically pained by the thought of her being with someone else.

  Before my eyes, the profile disappeared. Had Ella seen me? Had she blocked me?

  “You look like your grandma just died,” Wren said wryly from behind the cash register. “Wait, no one died, did they? They did, didn’t they? I’m sorry!”

  “No, no.” I cleared my throat. “Clearly I need to refine my facial expressions. That wasn’t the ‘someone died’ face, it was the ‘ex-girlfriend joined a dating app’ face.”

  “Ahh… now I see the difference,” she said. “You looked even more miserable than you would’ve if someone died.”

  I stashed my phone back in my apron. “It’s a weird situation. I mean, I’m on there myself, and yet I’m going to be hurt that she’s doing it?”

  Chelle had pressured me into making an account a few weeks ago, saying she was sick to death of the funk I was in. Actually, she’d taken my phone and made the account herself. I just hadn’t bothered to delete it. I’d gotten a few messages from guys, which were gross enough that I changed my settings to women only. After that, there’d been no messages.

  “It’s understandable to be hurt,” Wren said. “You still want to be with her.”

  “What? No, I don’t.” I crossed my arms. “I mean, I would, but not after what she did.”

  “Right, because her lying to you outweighed all the good things about her.” Wren gave me a questioning look.

  “Yeah.” My voice faltered.

  “And that’s why you’re still in love with her after almost two months. Because she was such a horrible person.”

  “She’s an amazing person who did a horrible thing,” I said. “Was I supposed to just say ‘okay’ and forget about it?”

  “No, of course not.” She trailed off, giving me a hard stare.

  “I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But you didn’t even give her a chance to make things right.” She crossed her arms, too, mirroring me. “The way you tell it, you cut her off the second you found out she lied. Ever since, you’ve been brooding over her.”

  “That was her second chance,” I said. “She’d already lied to me once, remember?”

  “The Valentine’s Day thing? That hardy counts.” She scoffed. “No one would’ve told you they hated Valentine’s at the moment when you were taking them for a surprise weekend away, and it’s not like you gave her a chance to tell you she hated Valentine’s beforehand. You sprung a surprise on her, and she was gracious about it. In fact, the way you tell it, she enjoyed everything about the weekend. She just doesn’t like the more corporate aspects of V-Day.”

  She did have a point. In fact, I’d already had similar thoughts. “Still, I told her how I felt about lying, and she did it anyway. She’d been doing it since day one, and she would’ve kept doing it indefinitely if her little sister hadn’t told me the truth.” Heat rose to my face. I’d argued this mentally so many times, and yet talking about it in person still stressed me out. “She was conspiring with her brother. She – ”

  “She messed up,” Wren said, holding up a finger. “I’m not denying that. But is she or is she not the girl of your dreams?”

  I pursed my lips, unwilling to answer.

  “And are you or are you not still in love with her?”

  I hung my head.

  “Have you heard of Cyrano de Bergerac?”

  I looked up at her sharply, confused by the change of subject. “Um… vaguely. What is it?”

  “It’s a movie from 1990. There’s an older version too, but the new one is surprisingly better – at least to me. They’re both good. Oh, and they’re both based on this super-ancient French play by Edmond Rostand. There’s also Roxanne with Steve Martin, but we don’t talk about that one. It’s not the same as the original.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Just that it’s a great movie.” She turned away and started to mop the counter. “You should give it a watch sometime.”

  *

  With nothing to do that weekend, I decided to check out the movie. I downloaded the newer version, partly because it was in color. Old movies weren’t really my thing, and I was already going to have to strain my eyes to read the subtitles. I curled up on the living room couch and pressed play.

  A few minutes into the movie, I hardly noticed the subtitles anymore – the plot had drawn me in. The main character, Cyrano, was madly in love with his cousin Roxane, but he thought she’d never return his feelings because of his big nose. To be fair, it was pretty funny-looking.

  Ah… I saw why Wren had recommended this. Cyrano’s friend Christian was also into Roxane, and he asked Cyrano to write letters to help him win her over. This was like the hetero, 19th-century French version of me and Ella’s story.

  The trick worked, and Roxane got married to Christian. I snorted to myself. At least Ella’s plot with Sam hadn’t gotten that far!

  Christian went off to war, and Cyrano kept writing letters on his behalf. Christian proceeded to die without Roxane finding out he wasn’t writing the letters! I was on the edge of my seat as Roxane, heartbroken, proceeded to join a convent. She’d become a nun!

  Cyrano visited Roxane every week, just as a friend. This went on for a good amount of time… fourteen years. Then one week, he was wounded on his way there. For some reason – the freaking idiot! – he continued on his way and went to see Roxane rather than seeking medical help.

  Somehow in the course of their conversation, the topic of Christian’s last letter to her came up, and he quoted it word for word. This was it… she finally realized it was him who’d written the letters. Him that she’d fallen in love with.

  And only then, he showed her his wound… and then he closed his eyes and fucking died!

  I let out an exhale I hadn’t realized I was holding as the credits began to roll. That movie was infuriating. Cyrano had let the love of his life get away. All he had to do was tell her he was the one writing the letters, and she would’ve been his. He just had to tell her the truth! She could’ve left the convent for him, but he let his self-consciousness about his nose get in the way.

  Then when she finally found out, it was too late – he was literally dying! They were perfect for each other. Perfect. She wouldn’t have cared about his nose, or about anything else. They could’ve been together, if he hadn’t died two minutes later.

  Wait… was that why Wren had wanted me to watch this? Was that the message she wanted me to take from it?

  Ella and I were perfect together – that much was for sure. And we were both still alive.

  Maybe at this point in the story, I wasn’t Roxane. I was Cyrano – keeping us from being together for a decidedly silly reason. If I forgave Ella and trusted she wouldn’t hurt me again, then we could be together again before one or the other or us was on the verge of death.

  Maybe Wren was right. Maybe I’d been stupid to break up with Ella. But at this point, it wasn’t like I could just go to her and ask for her back. She was dating now. Besides, I’d pushed her away. I’d been so cold to her at the time of the break-up, ignoring her calls and refusing to talk to her. And I’d cut her off completely for so long.

  She’d stopped trying to get me back ages ago. Why would she want to hear from me at all?

  I curled into a ball on the couch. She wouldn’t want to. I’d missed my chance.

  Ella was the love of my life, and I was never going to be with her again.

  Twenty-Seven – Ella

  Today was the day. All the phone calls I’d made, all the emails I’d written, all the research I’d done and the favors I’d begged were finally going to come to fruition. Everything was culminating in Fronton’s first-ever Pride festival.

  The sun was shining, and the
gentle breeze in the air was welcome as I carried audio equipment from the truck to the stage, helping set things up. Some of the committee members had managed to get some semi-famous local bands to play, and a well-known comedian would be emceeing. The volunteers were the only ones here at this hour, but we buzzed with excitement. Especially me – at least, as long as I didn’t accidentally look at Judi.

  She was the only not-great thing about the day. I was over her – or I told myself I was – but still, it was hard to see her avoiding my eyes, as if she hated me too much to even look at me. I wished we could be civil toward each other. I would’ve been her friend if she wouldn’t have me as her partner. But she wouldn’t even acknowledge I was there.

  After setting down an amp with a thud, I turned to Ian. “We’re almost done. Looks like we’ll be all set up before people start arriving.”

  He shielded his eyes and pointed into the distance. “I doubt that. Looks like some are already here.”

  A gay couple came toward us, holding hands. “This is Pride, isn’t it?” one of the men called.

  “You’re early!” I shouted back. “Come back in a bit!”

  The streets had already been blocked off, and a few cops stood in a huddle to one side. Some tents had been erected, and a bunch of vendors were getting ready to display their wares inside. As I looked up at the stage, a rainbow flag unfurled all the way across the front.

  My heart swelled. Growing up in this small town, I’d struggled to accept who I was and to find a sense of community with others like me. I’d never once imagined there would be a festival celebrating my sexuality right here in Fronton. I definitely hadn’t imagined I’d be an integral part of making it happen.

  I let my eyes stray over to Judi, who was placing folding chairs in front of the stage. She paused to look at the flag, and even from a few feet away, I could see she was affected. While we were dating, she’d told me how much this festival meant to her.

  She glanced toward me, and my heart stuttered as our eyes met for the first time in months. I chanced a smile – a small one, an apologetic one. She didn’t return it.

  All right, then. Chastened, I went back to helping with the stage equipment.

  By ten o’clock on the dot, the stage and the vendors were all set up. A few curious onlookers arrived before the emcee even took the stage. There was going to be a full day of music, drag, speeches, and entertainment. The main part of my volunteer work was done. I was still here to help out if anybody needed me, but for the most part, this was my time to relax and enjoy the festival.

  I took a seat and watched proudly as the emcee talked about the events we had planned for the day. The only thing that would’ve made this better was having a girlfriend to share it with. Specifically, Judi. I looked on in pain as a lesbian couple slipped into the seats down the row from me. One put her arm around the other, playing with her hair. Why couldn’t that be us?

  Stop it, Ella. I’d been looking forward to this day for over half a year, and I wasn’t going to ruin it for myself by sulking over my break-up. I pushed my thoughts of Judi into a compartment deep inside myself and sealed it up.

  Someone stood beside me, and I pushed my chair back an inch to let them squeeze through. “Not even going to get up for us, Ella?” a familiar voice asked.

  I jumped up and wrapped my mom in a hug. “You came!” And so had Sam and Coco.

  “Of course we did,” Mom said. “We had to see why you’ve been abandoning us every second Friday night for months.”

  “Also, we’re really fucking proud of you and all the effort you’ve put in,” Sam said.

  “Language!” Mom snapped, covering Coco’s ears.

  The three of them sat down, and I couldn’t keep myself from grinning like an idiot. I laid my head over Mom’s shoulder. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend in my life, I still had people who loved, supported, and cared about me.

  We watched the bands and entertainment, and when we got hungry around noon, Mom bought us all hot dogs and giant pretzels from one of the vendors. Sam topped things off by getting each of us an iced lemonade. There was a beer tent, too, but we couldn’t go in with Coco.

  People came and went throughout the day. The turn-out was far better than we’d expected, and the folding chairs weren’t nearly enough to contain the crowds. A lot of people ended up voluntarily giving their seats to senior citizens and pregnant women. There seemed to be more people standing than sitting, but nobody complained.

  It was a beautiful day, and we were celebrating LGBT rights. It felt like everyone here was in as wonderful a mood as I was.

  Around eight o’clock, the official side of the festival wound down. I made my way over to Todd, Ian, and a few of the other volunteers. “Well, that was a resounding success,” I told Todd. “You are so freaking awesome for making this happen.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He patted me on the shoulder, looking as drunk on happiness as I felt. “A few of us are going out for drinks to celebrate. Want to join?”

  “To celebrate celebrating? I’m in.”

  After I said goodbye to my family, the group of us walked over to a bar a few blocks away. Someone had invited Judi, and somehow we fell into step, walking silently side by side. I was aware that, with no more Pride planning meetings for the next few months, I wouldn’t see her every other week anymore. In fact, if one of us decided not to volunteer again next year, this could be the last time I saw her at all.

  As the group headed into the bar, Judi caught me by the arm. I froze, shocked as much by the feeling of her skin on mine as by the fact that she’d acknowledged my existence. She’d been ignoring me for so long, and I’d assumed it would always be that way.

  “I want to talk to you for a moment,” she said slowly. The way she dragged her eyes upward to meet mine made me think that maybe earlier, she’d looked away out of fear rather than spite. “Do you – do you think we could do that?”

  That’s only the one thing I’ve been dying to do for the past four months. “Sure. Um… what’s up?”

  Ahead of us, Ian was about to be the last through the door. He turned back and took a look at us, and his eyebrows shot up. “Okay, then. See you inside.”

  Judi crossed her arms, shivering. She was in tiny denim shorts and a crop top with a rainbow heart on it, which would’ve been great for the daytime, but now it was getting chilly, especially here in the shade. Still, she looked great. She looked amazing, actually.

  “How’ve you been?” she asked simply, making a face as if to say she knew how strange it was to start a conversation with me this casually. “Are you going to volunteer again next year?”

  “I’ve been good,” I said, still awed by the fact that I was actually talking to her. “And yeah, I think I am. What about you?”

  “Definitely. This event today… it was like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I’ve been to bigger Prides, but seeing this one here, in my own hometown… it was life-affirming. Coming here today was food for my soul.”

  Only she would describe this that way. The way she worded things always had been quirky and cute, but even so, I found myself agreeing with her completely. “It really was,” I said. “I’m so happy we pulled this off.”

  “And that was largely because of you,” she said. I started to wave off the compliment, but she shook her head. “Don’t be modest. You know it’s true.”

  “Fine.”

  I still didn’t know why she’d suddenly decided to speak to me. Was this an attempt at friendship? She probably just didn’t want to say goodbye forever while we were on bad terms. There was no way she wanted to get back together with me. No possible way.

  “I saw you having fun with your family,” she said. “I was in and out of the beer tent all day.”

  Ahh… that explained a little. Now that she said it, I did see a slight glaze over her eyes. Alcohol lowered inhibitions so people could do the things they wanted to do when they were sober. Did that mean she’d been wanting to tal
k to me?

  “I’m glad we emphasized the family-friendly aspect of today,” I said. “Coco really enjoyed the kids’ stuff.”

  “Oh, Coco.” She looked away as if remembering her last conversation with my sister, then returned her gaze to me. “And your mom and Sam?”

  “They liked the music,” I said. “I wasn’t sure if some of the drag performances would have Mom clutching her pearls, but they kept it reasonably clean.”

  “Fran doesn’t seem like much of a pearl-clutcher.”

  “She’s not. I just thought some of those acts would be seriously scandalous.”

  Judi chuckled softly. “Give it a few years, and maybe Fronton Pride will be on the same scale as the San Francisco parade. We’ll have men walking around in assless chaps and girls wearing nothing but rainbow bikinis.”

  “We’re on the organizing team,” I said jokingly. “If that’s what we want, we can make it happen.”

  Was I really joking around again? With Judi? I fought the urge to pinch myself. A day or two ago, this would’ve seemed completely impossible. Even this morning, she wouldn’t even return my smile.

  “So… TruLuv, huh?” She peered into my eyes.

  “Oh God, you saw me.”

  “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said, even though she looked embarrassed. “I’m on there, too.”

  “I was only on it for about three minutes, and then…”

  “And then you saw me?”

  I cringed. Tell her that’s not the reason. Tell her it had nothing to do with her. But no, that wasn’t me anymore. If there was ever a time for absolute honesty, it was this conversation. “Exactly.”

  “I didn’t get much use out of it, either. I haven’t been dating at all, actually.”

  A wave of relief went through me. I hadn’t realized how much the thought of her dating disturbed me. “Me either,” I said. “I’ve had other things on my mind.” Like you, I added silently – and it wasn’t a lie of omission, because I was pretty sure she could read it on my face.