We walk down a brightly lit hall to the back office I’ve seen a million times.  I’d helped him the past two years with paperwork and shit before I landed the teaching job.  Entering the small office, Trey closes the door for privacy.  Too bad shutting the door can’t erase the pungent smell of rubber and sweat loitering in the air.

“Okay, now talk,” I command, harsher than intended, but this topic has me feeling all sorts of rage.

It’s been two weeks since I walked out of that hotel room.  Two weeks of torture, of questioning my decisions.  Two weeks of staring at my cell, willing it to ring and fighting back the urge to reach out to her.  Two miserable weeks of watching her walk down the halls and sit in my classroom.  So close, yet so out of my reach.

But that’s not the worst of it.

The worst of it is, I feel a loss I haven’t felt in two years.  And that every day I see her, she looks as miserable as I feel.

I remain standing while Trey sits his ass on the corner of his desk.  And I wait.

“You wanna tell me what’s been going on?”

“Not really.”

“Too fuckin’ bad.  One minute you’re crazy over this girl, the next you’re acting like she died.”

“Trey.” My voice holds a warning I know he can hear.  He just shakes his head at me before continuing his train of thought.

“I know that was harsh, man, but listen to me.  I haven’t seen you this depressed since you showed up here two years ago.  That’s how you look right now.  It’s like a damn flashback.”

“I do not look that bad.”

“Really? When was the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?  You look like shit.”

I scrub my palms over my face.  Shit, he’s right.  I haven’t slept well in two weeks.

“Whatever.  Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Talk to me!  You’re like my goddamned brother.  I know this sounds like some girly shit, but I’m concerned.  What’s going on?”

My heart starts beating so hard it’s slamming around my ribs like a tennis ball.  Vomit crawls up the back of my throat, and I swallow hard to choke it down.  I wish I hadn’t been such an asshole.  I wish it wasn’t so hard to find the girl I want and take her—make her mine.  But that’s the thing about wishes, they always come in these fleeting moments.  A shooting star, a blowing dandelion, birthday candles, 11:11.  Wishes should be long lasting, not a spur of the moment request.  Why don’t we wish on rocks?  They never die.  Maybe more wishes would come true if we could hold the object we wished on forever.

“What’s going on is that I’m in love with her!”  The hoarseness of my voice shocks the hell out of me. Trey, too.  At least for a moment before he shakes it off.

“So what’s the problem?  Last we talked about this, I thought a decision had been made.  What happened?”

“I left her.  I can’t—she has some problems, and they scared the hell out of me.  I got angry, and I left.  We haven’t talked since.”

“What kind of problems,” Trey asks, genuine concern dripping from his tone.

I scrub my hand over my eyes.  I shouldn’t tell him.  Fuck, it’s not my place, but I don’t know how to handle this.  I need advice.  I thought I could walk away, but the past two weeks have shown me that I can’t.

“She—fuck.  I don’t know how to say this.  She hurts herself, man.”  Saying those words aloud chokes me up, and I want to throttle something.  It hurts like a physical pain in my chest.  I’ve been carrying it around for two weeks.  Every time I think of her wrists, it’s like a knife plunging into the space between my ribs.

“What do you mean she hurts herself,” he asks cautiously.

“I mean she’s a cutter.  Fuck.  I don’t think she’s suicidal, but what do I know?  We hadn’t had a chance to talk about it before I walked out on her.”

When I look over at Trey, I’m surprised to see how upset he looks.  His hands are clenched into fists by his sides, and there’s a muscle jumping in his tightly clenched jaw.  I don’t know why, but the topic has hit a nerve with him.

“Don’t leave her like that, man.  You find something like that out, you don’t fucking leave her.”

“I messed up.  I don’t know how to fix it.”

Trey crosses the small space to sit on one of the padded chairs.  “When did this happen?”

“About two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks? Christ, no wonder you look like shit.”

“Can you stop saying that?  It’s really not helping,” I grumble, causing Trey to crack a grin.

“Did I bruise your ego?”

“Yes,” I deadpan.

Trey laughs, somehow managing to lighten the heavy mood.  “Dude, you are so fucked!”

“What?”

“You have it bad.  So what are you waiting for?  Go get your girl.”

I slowly shake my head feeling defeated.  “I don’t think I can.”

“For fuck’s sake, why not?” he asks, crossing his arms over his sweaty chest.  Unlike me, Trey actually did a hard workout this morning.

God, this is going to make me sound like a pussy.  But Trey’s right, if anyone is like family to me, it’s him.

“I don’t think I can be what she needs.”  Trey begins to interrupt so I put up my hand to stop him.  “Hear me out.”

He puts his hand up in a gesture for me to get on with it.  I can tell he’s becoming impatient.  The world is so black and white to Trey.  But my world has never been anything less than a huge cloud of gray.

“Even if we can get past the issue of her being my student, which is only a few more weeks from now, she still has problems.  I’m not saying that to be a dick, I’m saying it because I have my own issues too.  You know that, better than anybody.  How can I help her work through her shit if I can’t see my way through my own?”  I sigh, letting the silence linger so Trey knows he’s free to talk.  There isn’t much more for me to say.  I laid it all out there, and now I feel bare.

“Are you listening to yourself?  What issues do you have?  Because to me, it sounds like your only issues are those that deal with her.  Not once in this conversation have you brought up the past as being a problem.  Your problem is that you’re in love with a girl, and you let her go.  So get off your ass and fucking get her.  Stop thinking so damn hard, you’ll give yourself an aneurysm.”

Well that’s a huge dose of clarity if I’ve ever had one.  It’s like he just whacked me upside the head with a two-by-four of truth.

I’m silent for a moment while I think, and realize Trey’s right.  Several weeks have passed since I last sat and thought entirely about Harper.  Since I felt a crushing weight of guilt at the slightest thought of her.  Even the random phone calls from Brent don’t carry the same heaviness they first did a few months ago.

Scrubbing my forehead, I sigh.  “It’s because of Tatum.”

“What?” Trey asks quietly.

“Almost immediately after I began to focus on Tatum, I started to feel less guilty about Harper.  That weekend, where we met you at the bar, was a rough one.  I couldn’t help thinking of all the ways I failed Harper and how I was no good for Tatum.  How I’d eventually let her down too.  But when I think about it, it’s almost like that got Harper out of my system.  All my energy has been focused on one person over the past several weeks.”

The trademark, carefree grin spreads across Trey’s face.  “What’d I tell you, man?”

“You gloat, I’m gonna kick your ass.  Besides, this isn’t over yet.  I have some things to take care of before I talk to Tatum.  Loose ends to tie up.”

Trey stands and walks to the office door, opening it.  We both step into the hallway and walk towards the entrance.  “Don’t take too long.  She doesn’t seem like a patient girl if I remember correctly.”

Faster than I knew I was capable, I turn and slug Trey in the shoulder.

“Dude!” he cries.

“Don’t ever think about kissing her again,” I hiss through clenched teeth.  Trey bursts out in a laughing fit, bent double and clutching his abdomen.