The Morning After, I Heard Him Call Me Practice

Ryan’s words struck so hard that I stood outside the classroom for a long moment, unable to move.

A window stood open along the hall, and the summer wind lifted the edge of the paper bag in my hand. It was noon, yet my fingertips felt cold.

We had graduated already. Today, we were back to collect the last of the materials mailed to the school. Ryan had said he and his friends would be upstairs, so I brought the book he had left at my house.

The book sat inside the bag. On the other side of the door, Ryan was talking about me.

“You really slept with Leah?” a guy asked. “I thought you were trying to get with Blair.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. Then I heard Ryan laugh.

“That’s why I needed the practice. Blair’s going to take more than a few compliments.”

Someone whistled.

“Leah’s gorgeous, and you used her for practice?”

“She got something out of it too,” Ryan said easily. “You guys know she’s had a thing for me for years.”

My grip tightened around the bag.

When Ryan came into my room last night, he had asked softly if I would regret it. I shook my head because I loved him and believed he finally loved me back.

He had asked whether I might regret that night. He had kept his own intentions to himself.

Another guy spoke up. “You think she believes you’re together now?”

“I never promised her anything,” Ryan said.

“But you two grew up together. She’s always with you. Everyone figured you’d end up dating.”

“What everyone figured and what I agreed to are two different things.”

Laughter rose again. One of the guys compared my body to Blair’s.

Something hit a desk with a dull thud. It sounded like Ryan had thrown a book.

“Talk about me all you want. Leave her out of it,” he said.

For a moment, relief came over me. Then Ryan went on.

“Last night was a spur-of-the-moment thing. She was into it. Keep it to yourselves, okay? I’d rather things stay normal when I see her.”

Standing outside that door, I understood what concerned him. Word getting around could complicate his chances with Blair.

Footsteps sounded at the far end of the hall. I turned and headed for the stairs, then slipped into the girls’ bathroom on the way.

The stall door clicked shut behind me. Tears spilled down my face, and I bit the back of my hand to keep myself quiet.

Two girls came in and chatted at the mirrors. One said that returning after graduation made the hallways seem shorter than she remembered. I waited until they left.

Ryan’s voice stayed with me.

I needed the practice.

I had loved him for six years.

Since I was twelve, every private thought seemed to lead back to Ryan. At lunch, I looked for where he was sitting. After a movie, I wondered whether he would like it. When it came time to choose a college, I asked which city he wanted first.

I had considered the possibility that his feelings were different. Then he would do something kind, and my hopes would return.

After I failed an exam, he sat with me on the bleachers until I was ready to talk. When I had a high fever and my parents were out, he showed up with medicine and dinner. Each time I resolved to get over him, he remembered something I had mentioned in passing.

Last night, he had been gentler than ever. I thought those six years of loving him had finally led somewhere.

I was the one who had given that night a meaning.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I wiped my face and read Ryan’s message.

I left with my friends. We’ve got a party tonight, so grab a cab home. I can’t take you.

He knew I was at school. He had left without checking where I was.

A few minutes later, another message arrived.

Remember what we talked about last night. Ask the pharmacist if you need help. I’m tied up today. Be good.

We had gone into last night unprepared. Ryan had promised to come with me to the pharmacy today to ask about what I needed. When he reminded me earlier, his concern had made me feel safe.

I stared at the words be good.

I used to love hearing him say that. Now it read like a quick reassurance, sent so he could get on with his day.

I turned my phone facedown. Once my breathing settled, I left the stall.

The hallway was empty. I carried Ryan’s book downstairs and sat on a bench outside the school gates for a while, the paper bag crumpled in my hands.

I had brought the book to return it. The thought of walking back into that room kept me on the bench until I called a cab home.