Anything Less Than Everything (14 page)

E
ach night Aaron and I would talk, and
each night I would get more and more excited about seeing him.

The night
before he was going to leave, two nights before I did, we had an intense
conversation about what we each wanted out of life.

“I just want
to be
that
teacher for some kid,” I said. You know, the one you think of
years later as a person who impacted your life in some great way.”

“You want to
be remembered,” Aaron said. I thought about it for a second before replying.

“Not
necessarily. I mean, being remembered goes along with it, but I just want to
shape kids’ thoughts. If they become better human beings but can’t remember my
name, that’s okay.”

“So do you
think you’ll always teach?” he asked.

“I guess so,”
I said. “I never considered not teaching. It’s what I have always wanted to do.
They’ll probably have to cart me out between fourth and fifth periods when I’m
ninety,” I added.

“See, that’s
something I’m jealous of,” he said.

“You’re
jealous of me potentially spending my entire adulthood working? You’ll be able
to retire at thirty and never need to work again.”

“Well, that’s
it, kinda. I know I can’t just have one career. I mean, football has a pretty
definite expiration date on it. What happens after that?”

“Whatever you
want to,” I answered. “Or nothing at all. All those million dollar paychecks
from the NFL might not be able to buy happiness, but they do give you options.”
He considered this for a minute.

“Okay,
Brooke. So if you made millions a year, would you still teach?”

“Today? Yes.
But later, when I had kids or something? Well, like I said, options.”

“So if money
weren’t an option, you’d be a stay at home mom?”

“Not
necessarily. I guess it would depend on a lot of things, but money wouldn’t
have to be one of them. Think of it this way: if you had five million dollars
in your hand right now, what would you do with your life? No football
required.”

“If I said
‘talk to you,’ would that be too corny?”

“Yes,” I
said, making sure my eye roll could be felt across the phone lines, “but it
would also be flattering.”

“Okay, so a
little less dramatically, I’d just do things that made the people who are
important to me happy. Like for you, I might buy books for all your students.”
(Which I’m pretty sure is both
#22 Respects me and my ideas
and
#23
Values learning
.) “I’d help Sara start a photography business, build Maggie
the ultimate playground.”

The more he
talked, the more nervous and excited and every other emotion possible I felt
about our visit. The butterfly flutters Aaron sometimes caused had been growing
steadily over the last couple of weeks, and it was all I could do to shove them
away.
He needs a flaw
, I thought, thinking of Caryn’s warning to me.
Something
to bring me back to reality.

“You’re
making me feel like a materialistic moron,” I said.

“What? How?”
he said. He sounded genuinely shocked. Maybe even hurt.

“You will
most likely be a bajillionaire this time next year, and you’re only thinking of
how to spend it on others. I’m all for philanthropy, but if I’m being honest,
my first thought would probably be a new car. Something European. Possibly a
convertible. So now I feel about two feet tall. And don’t apologize,” I said
before he could.

“You know me
too well, Brooke. And for the record, I probably would buy myself a new car,
too.” Now I could tell he was smiling, as I’m pretty sure he often did at my
little outbursts.

“Good,” I
said. “I’m glad to know you have at least one almost flaw.’

“Just one?”
he asked.

“
Almost
one,” I answered. “I’m still waiting for an actual one to show up.”

“You’re
funny,” he said. “I have more than enough flaws. Plenty.”

“Oh, yeah?” I
pressed. “Name them. And sneaking around behind your best friend’s back to set
up personal security doesn’t count.”

He sighed. “I
asked Dave to be discreet. Okay, then, my biggest flaw is that I’m over
protective. Sara is probably glad we don’t live in the same state, otherwise no
guy would dare ask her out.”

“Not a flaw,”
I said.

“It could
be.”

“Nope,
endearing. Try again.” He paused for several seconds. At first I thought he was
trying to think of a flaw, but then I realized he was more likely trying to
decide how to say whatever was on his mind.

“Okay,” he
said finally. “This may come as a surprise, but I have almost no
self-confidence. Nada. I doubt myself constantly. In fact, I’m doubting whether
I should be telling you this right now.” This did come as a surprise. Aaron was
expected to have a stellar season as the captain of one of the most highly
rated football teams in the country. He was almost certain to be drafted into
the NFL. What did he have to doubt about himself?

He took my
silence as an invitation to keep going. “My success has not come easily, and
I’m terrified of failing, of letting people down, but more than that, of
letting people
see
me fail. I’m really self conscious.”

“Which is why
you hate seeing yourself on TV.”

“Yep.”

Another
thought came to me. “And why you don’t date.”

“Yep again. I
don’t trust people not to hurt me. The more distance I keep between myself and
others, the less chance they can do that.”

“But what
about--”

“You?” he
finished for me. “You I cannot explain. I never really intended to become close
to you, to let you in, but I guess my over protective side was stronger than my
scared side that night I first called you.

“Over
protective?” I asked.

“Those two
days I spent with you, I watched you hurt with no one to help you. I couldn’t
believe what your family members were saying about you and to you, what that
idiot ex of yours did, and you seemed so alone in all of it. I wanted to
protect you from that hurt, like I would for my sisters (
okay, not really
what I wanted to hear
). But as I did that, I didn’t really anticipate
becoming friends with you. I mean, I was leaving the next day. So I shared some
things with you hoping to make you feel better. You were safe because there was
an automatic distance between us.”

“So you only
hung out with me that night because you knew it wouldn’t matter?” I asked the
question slowly, my stomach in knots, afraid of the words he would speak.
Afraid that our entire friendship was based only on the fact that it didn’t
matter.

“No! I mean,
part of my ease in talking to you was that if I came across as an idiot, I
wouldn’t have to face you later, but it was sincere, Brooke. I promise.”

I knew it
was, of course. Something didn’t add up, though.

“But you
called me,” I said at last.

“I know.”

“Why?” I was
nervous, afraid I wouldn’t like the answer. My mind ran through all of our
conversations over the past few weeks. Could I trust them? Yes. Just like I
knew Aaron was sincere in his desire to protect me, I knew also that our
friendship was real. Yet I feared his next words.

“I’m not
really sure, Brooke. Once we were apart, I felt it, you know? The absence? I
needed to know you were okay, needed to know more about you. And the more I got
to know you, the more impossible it became to say goodbye.” He paused. “But
before you start thinking that me calling a girl I barely know disproves my
feelings of inadequacy, you should know that I did dial your number three times
before I got up the nerve to press send.”

“Really?”

“Really. But
I’m glad I did.”

“Me, too.”
Wow. What if he hadn’t called? What would this summer have looked like? But now
Caryn’s idea of him hiding something crept into my mind. “So, the take charge
Aaron I know, the guy who’s cool and calm with the press, are you saying that’s
just an act?”

He thought
about this for a second before answering. “No. Especially not with you. I never
feel the need to be someone I’m not when I’m talking to you. But it doesn’t
come naturally for me. I really have to work at being confident in my
decisions, around people.”

“Hmm,” I
said. “Interesting.”

“That’s all I
get?” he asked.

“I’m trying
to decide what to think of all this new information,” I said.

“Maybe that
you’re relieved now that I am in fact a real person so we can still be friends.
That’s what I hope. What I’m scared of is that you’ll hang up.”

“Oh, please,
Aaron.” But I
was
relieved because I now felt a little less embarrassed
about all the times I was afraid I’d scared him off. And even this supposed
“flaw” gave me another opportunity to know him better, to understand him. His
fear that I would be upset over his conversation with Spencer made more sense
now, and also the fact that he’d called from football camp, but never suggested
getting together.

After we hung
up--earlier than usual since he was driving home the next day--I decided to
start packing. For some reason I always start with my carryon bag. I found a
magazine and the book I was reading to put in there, and then looked around for
my notebook. It was in the drawer of the bedside table, with the list marking
my place. Since I had been thinking of it a little while earlier, I opened the
paper and scanned the items. I had still not found anyone with all of those qualities
(not that I had really looked), and I still had not found one quality that
Aaron did not possess.
Shove. Feelings. Down.

Just before I
folded the list back up, though, something at the bottom caught my eye. It
looked like another item, a number fifty-seven, that I must have erased for
some reason. I held it up to the light, squinting to make out the indentations
in the paper, gasping when I realized what it said.

#57: loves
football
.

And that’s
when I knew/realized/admitted/whatever: I was in love with Aaron Davidson.

T
his knowledge could have led me to
several different scenarios. 1. I could tell Aaron how I felt. 2. I could wait
for the feelings to pass (yeah, right). 3. I could do absolutely nothing. I
decided to go with option three.

Here’s the
thing: I was in love with Aaron. I knew that with the same certainty that I
knew I’d never have a class where every student had their homework. But that
knowledge had nothing to do with his feelings for me. Aaron was not in love
with me, and if I told him about my feelings, or acted on them in any way, the
best that I could hope for would be extreme awkwardness. The worst case (and
most likely) scenario is that our friendship would end. And that wasn’t an
option. I had to have Aaron in my life, so I was going to have to shove those
feelings down (again) and ignore today’s realization. And while I was very
aware of the fact that doing so would mean keeping something from Aaron,
something important, I really had no choice.

Someday I
would find someone else. So would he. In the meantime, I decided, I would just
act like I always had with Aaron.

Except I
wasn’t sure that was possible.

Aaron texted
me when he arrived in Wisconsin. I was thankful for the format: I could choose
my words carefully, revise as needed, and avoid those sounds and pauses that
Aaron would definitely pick up on as weird. He was going to dinner with his
family and playing a pick-up game with some high school buddies. With no phone
call to occupy my time, my brain took over. I couldn’t
not
think about
him. Seeing his profile picture on BEsocial sent pleasant shivers through me.
But I could do it. I could be Aaron’s best friend--a role I had cherished all
summer. That was becoming my new mantra. A mantra I repeated to myself most of
the night while I was not sleeping.

I must have
drifted off at some point, though, because the phone ringing the next morning
woke me. I pawed around on the table until I found it, then answered groggily.

“Good
morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Ugh. He was not going to make this easy. “Late
night?”

“Something
like that,” I said. “How’s the family?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Wonderful.
Maggie is driving me nuts asking when you’re going to get here.” Now my
butterflies were changing from lovey-dovey ones to oh-crap ones. Not only did I
have to play it cool with Aaron, but I also had to impress his five-year-old
sister. No easy task.

“I hope I
don’t disappoint,” I said. There was no humor in my voice; I was nervous.

“You?
Disappoint? Impossible. Besides, I probably won’t share you enough for it to
matter. If I only get to see my best friend for a couple of days, I’m going to
take full advantage of it.”
Best friend. Yes, best friend.

“I can’t
wait,” I said. And I couldn’t. Even though I was nervous about my ability to
convince us both that my feelings for him were completely platonic, I was
beyond excited to see Aaron again. It felt like two years since I had seen him,
not two months. And I kept forgetting that I had actually only spent a few
hours in his company.

“So what are
your plans today while you can’t wait to see me?” I laughed. Aaron didn’t show
his silly side all that often, which made it even funnier when he did. It
seemed sharing more about himself during our last call had given him the confidence
he claimed he lacked.

“Work. Last
minute errands. Dinner with Jill. Hopefully sleep.”

“She taking
you to the airport?”

“Yeah. She’s
spending the night so I don’t have to worry about her being late. She is not
happy about the time of her wake up call.”

“Tell her
it’s my fault,” he said.

“Oh, I
already did,” I teased back, and Aaron laughed.

“Do I get to
talk to you tonight?” he asked. “Or do you have too much going on?”

“Of course
you get to talk to me,” I said. “I’ll be home by eight. Call me whenever.”

“Good,” he
said. “Hey, Brooke?”

“Yeah?”

“One. More.
Day.” He hung up before I had time to reply.

I spent the
rest of the day running. I spent a few hours at Dwell, setting up some new
displays. Caryn hugged me as I was about to leave, telling me to have a great
time. From there I snuck in a workout as an attempt to relieve some stress,
then picked up some last minute things at the store. Next were mani-pedis with
Marcie and dinner with Jill (the least I could do was buy). When I finally made
it home, I went straight to my room to pack.

Being at home
was a relief. Each person I’d spent time with that day had questioned--no
interrogated--me about my true reasons for going to Wisconsin. It’s not that
they didn’t believe me about the conference, but they doubted it had anything
to do with my excitement.

Well, they
were right about that.

I’d been
brushing off such questions all summer, but before denial that I felt anything
but friendship for Aaron had been true; now it wasn’t, and the questions were making
me squirm.

“Just don’t
forget that I need you here,” Caryn had said. “I can’t have you running off to
wherever to follow some guy.”

I’d rolled my
eyes. “Aaron is my friend. I’ve told you that a million times,” I said.

“Yes, honey,
but that is one gorgeous man. I wouldn’t be able to stay just friends with a
fine looking specimen like that. And I’m afraid all that talking and not seeing
him has made you forget that.”

I hadn’t
forgotten. Not many items on my list focused on looks, but I was certain that Aaron
would
#53, look sexy in a baseball cap
. Hopefully he wouldn’t wear one
while I was visiting.

“It’s not
relevant,” I said. “Aaron is my best friend. Dating him would just ruin it, so
why bother?” It was the closest to telling anyone about my feelings for Aaron
I’d come, and my cheeks reddened at the revelation.

“All I’m
saying, Brooke, is to go with the flow. Don’t hide your feelings. It will only
mess things up in the end.” I’d nodded, but I knew that
not
hiding my
feelings is what would ruin things. And it wasn’t really about hiding my
feelings, it was about ignoring them until they went away.

Back in the
present, Jill walked into my room without knocking, interrupting my thoughts
and adding to the speculation surrounding my trip. “What are you wearing on the
plane?” she asked.

“I don’t
know,” I said. “I haven’t thought about it yet.” Jill
rolled her eyes at me.

“Brooke, in
about fifteen hours you are going to see a super famous, gorgeous athlete. You
will be watched by all. Maybe even photographed. What you wear matters.” Now it
was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Aaron
doesn’t care what I wear. He’s my
friend
.” The more I said it out loud,
the easier it became to believe it.

“Whatever you
say,” she said. “But my advice is to wear this.” She pulled the yellow and gray
sundress we bought on our last shopping trip. I took it and laid in on the
chair by my bed as she pulled some shoes and jewelry to go with it. I let her
pack most of my suitcase, but put my foot down when she tried to oust my
shorts, tees and running shoes. I
was
going to spend the weekend with an
elite athlete, after all. I was just adding the last items to my suitcase when
my phone rang. Jill rolled her eyes and left the room. I stuck my tongue out at
her in return.

“Hey,” I said
as I answered the phone.

“Hey,” he
replied, then paused.

“What is it?”
I asked.

“Nothing.
Just counting how many hours until I see you.” This boy could really make me
smile.

“Fourteen,” I
said. And in fourteen hours I would be able to see Aaron smile instead of just
imagining that he was.

“Which
means...” I could hear him calculating in him head, “...that you’ll be getting
up in six hours?”

“Five. Which
means I should probably pack more and talk less tonight.”

“And sleep.”

“Yeah,
something tells me I won’t do much of that, though.”

“Whatever in
the world would make it difficult to sleep tonight, Brooke?” His voice was
thick with mock questioning.

“Hmm, I don’t
know. It might have something to do with the cause of my packing and waking up
at a ridiculous hour.”

“Oh, right,
the
conference
.” His eyes were glittering with laughter, I just knew it.

“If that’s
what you want to call it,” I said. Despite my nervousness, I had no problem
telling Aaron how excited I was to see him because I knew his excitement
matched mine.

“So how was
your day with the family?” I asked.

“Wonderful,”
he said. “I got my fill, though, so I’m all yours for the weekend.”

“I don’t mind
hanging out with your family,” I said.

“I do,” he
replied.

“Is this how
you act after not seeing Brandon or the other guys for awhile?” I teased.

“Of course,”
he laughed. The conversation stalled there. My thoughts were on the fact that
I’d be seeing Aaron very shortly. I guessed his were on the same.

“I should
probably go finish packing,” I said.

“Yeah. And
sleep. I need you awake for tomorrow.”

“Yes, and
sleep.”

Neither of us
made an attempt to hang up. “Okay,” he said finally, “I’ll let you go. Be safe
tomorrow.”

“I will. And,
Aaron? I’ll
see
you tomorrow.”

“Yes, you
will. Sweet dreams, Brooke.”