smile. “Thanks, Boss.”
His eyelids fluttered at that, and I felt a surge of pride that he looked hurt, too. Reagan nodded again, and it felt like a dismissal. “Be good, Channing,” he said before turning and walking over to Dane and Chris, who’d been covertly hovering near the house.
Be good. Like I was a child. Everything about our exchange stung, and I turned back to cleaning, unwilling to let them see how affected I was. This also kept me from throwing his gift at the back of his head, instead setting it on a chair. I took my time collecting all the recycling that had been left out, and when I was putting the last of it in the bin, I realized with relief that Reagan had left.
Except, the relief was hard to hold onto. My mouth tasted sour from the conversation, and I had been left wanting, wanting, wanting.
But I grabbed the gift and took it with me inside, telling Dane and Chris thank you and good night and yes, I was fine, thanks for worrying like mother hens, and went to my room. The dorms were opening up a few days before classes, and I’d opted to leave tomorrow to move in, despite the offers from friends to hang out a bit more. It was time to move on, and Reagan’s goodbye only made that more obvious.
Sinking onto the edge of my bed, I stared at my open suitcase, already packed. The walls of my room were bare, but I hadn’t put much up in the year I’d been living with Chris. My life had fit into a suitcase. It had depressed me, but now...I felt a flutter in my chest. If I wasn’t carrying much baggage with me to college, then maybe it left more room for growth.
It was, in so many cheesy ways, a fresh start.
Picking up Reagan’s gift, I opened it slowly, trying to imagine what he’d possibly thought would be a gift that could mend the rift between us. If he’d even thought a gift could. Or cared.
Stop, Channing. Don’t be the child he thinks you are. I tore off the rest of the wrapping paper.
It was a book. Bound in leather with beautiful spray-painted edges. The cover read, A Daily Book of Affirmations. I thumbed through the pages, surprised. It was a guided journal, but the affirmations felt real. Sincere, and not dopey like so many others. I swallowed, feeling something creep hot in my throat.
As I went to close the book, a letter fluttered out from the front. It was written in Reagan’s elegant, artistic script. Even his handwriting was beautiful.
Channing,
No one should ever make you feel small or unwanted. You’re a good man now and on your way to becoming a GREAT man. Sometimes I don’t think you see how talented, how considerate, and how empathetic you are. But you are one of the strongest people I know, and one day I know you’ll believe it, too. When that happens, someone special will see it. Until then, here’s some affirmations so you can practice learning to see yourself the way I see you.
With deepest sincerity and humility,
Reagan
I turned the letter over and over in my hands. I folded it and unfolded it, read it again and again until my eyes were too blurred with tears to read it any more. Finally, I slipped it into the book and placed the book in my suitcase, fingertips brushing the leather once more.
I looked at his gift once more before shutting my case. I drummed my fingers against my thigh. Simply thinking about Reagan left me with a churning sour ball of shame in my gut. Because when I thought about him, I wanted, wanted, wanted so badly that it felt as if the wanting would consume me…
What was this gift supposed to be? An olive branch? A way to confuse me and make me want him even more?
Sleep came in fitful bits and pieces, my dreams haunted by red hair and strong hands and inked skin. When I woke, it wasn’t with the fresh-faced enthusiasm of a freshman embarking on his first semester of school. It was someone with trepidation...and hope.
The book, I’d decided, was an olive branch. Which meant the bridge between Reagan and me wasn’t burned entirely. But it was going to take effort and some good, old-fashioned growing up on my part to repair it.
“You can practice learning to see yourself the way I see you.”
Readying myself, I carried my