If He Had Been with Me

Finny and Sylvie aren’t the only casualty of Christmas break. Mike dumped Angie. The first day of the semester she cries in the bathroom during lunch. We crowd into the stall with her and hold her hands.

“He said I didn’t do anything wrong, but it just wasn’t working,” she says between sobs. “What does that mean?”

“That he is an idiot,” Sasha says. “That’s what it means.” We nod and she goes back to crying. I look at her face.

I had a boyfriend for a few months in eighth grade. His name was Josh and we held hands in the hallways and talked on the phone every night. He broke up with me suddenly one afternoon, saying he just didn’t feel the same anymore. For days, it felt like I had been punched in the stomach. It was like I couldn’t breathe, like something had been ripped from my abdomen. The feeling was so distinct; it was different from any other kind of sadness I had known before or since. Watching Angie cry reminds me of that feeling. It’s like smelling the pungent flavor of a sickening food I had once eaten. I never want to feel like that again.

We hug her for a while and head back to our table. Finny and Sylvie are still sitting at the same table with the rest of their friends, but they aren’t sitting next to each other anymore. I have an idea of how awkward things must be at the table. This morning at the bus stop they stood apart from each other and didn’t talk once. Finny hung his head and looked at the ground. Sylvie stared coolly down the road, her head held high. I upgraded my fantasy of pulling her hair to pushing her in front of the bus.

In Honors English, their group has rearranged so that Finny and Sylvie aren’t sitting next to each other anymore. I think about how complicated it would be if one of our couples broke up. It’s hard for me to imagine. Brooke and Noah still adore each other; they seem safe. Sasha and Alex are usually happy.

I try to picture Jamie and me breaking up.

My first reaction is a shocking sense of relief; if Jamie and I broke up, it would mean that he wasn’t the great love of my life; I wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore that I sometimes think about being with someone else, wondering if it would be better, maybe even perfect with him.

I glance across the classroom. He’s looking down, doodling in his notebook and quietly talking to Jack. He’s longing for someone else too, someone who isn’t me. And love the way it’s described in books and poems isn’t real; it’s immature to long for that, and it’s silly to think that with the right person it would be that. Jamie takes care of me and he loves me; in the real world, it can’t get better than that.

My second reaction is a feeling of fear; I love Jamie and the idea that love could be so impermanent scares me.

“Who read the assigned pages over the break?” Mr. Laughegan asks, breaking my thoughts. I raise my hand. Most of the others do too. “Okay, what did you think about the secret Mr. Rochester had in the attic? Autumn?”

My hand wasn’t up anymore, but I know my answer anyway. Mr. Laughegan usually calls on me first to get discussions started.

“I knew there was something strange going on, but I didn’t expect what happened. I seriously almost dropped the book,” I say. “And then I was so upset that I couldn’t sleep. I kept waking up so mad at Mr. Rochester—”

“I was so upset I couldn’t sleep?” Alexis says behind me. Several people, including Sylvie, laugh. Mr. Laughegan gives them a look.

“I’m not sure if I should still want Jane to end up with Mr. Rochester anymore,” I continue, “but I do anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Mr. Laughegan says. I pause for a moment, struggling to put the feeling into words.

“Because everyone always says that you never get over your first love. She loved Mr. Rochester first, and she loved him so much. Even if she fell in love again, I think part of her would always be wishing she was still with him.”

“And what is it Mr. Rochester did that upset Autumn so much? Alexis?” he says. I look over my shoulder. Alexis flushes and stumbles over her answer.

Everyone always says you never get over your first love. I imagine myself with someone else and longing for Jamie, my first love. I take a deep breath and remind myself that that will never happen; Jamie says he’s going to marry me.

“Never leave me,” I say to Jamie as we walk out of the classroom together.

“I won’t,” he promises.