comfortable in the soft chair next to the couch.
Will remained quiet just long enough for me to sense that something was wrong, though I waited for him to speak first as I racked my brain trying to figure out what that something was.
“You didn’t tell me that you were going away,” Will finally said, accusingly.
“Away? What do you mean?” I asked. I had a slight smirk on my face. Away seemed so vague. It almost sounded criminal – or worse.
“I know you applied to Missouri ,” he charged.
“And?” I punched back, though I knew I would have more explaining to do later. I knew he would never settle for that answer.
“It’s hours away, Julia,” Will said sternly, solemnly. “There’s several good schools right down the road.”
I paused for a moment, mostly to hold back my disdain for his disdain.
“Will, they’re hardly just down the road,” I protested. “And Missouri ’s a good school for me, you know that.”
Will remained silent and used the remote to flip through the television channels rhythmically. I watched him continuously press the channel button, not even bothering to see what was on each one, while he stared expressionlessly into the TV’s screen.
I moved over to the couch and took a seat on the piece of plush surface near Will’s stomach that had not been taken up by the tall, muscular figure. I swiveled around so that I faced him and then gently took the remote from his hand, muted the TV and set the channel changer down onto the surface of the coffee table.
Taking away his distractive device was easy. Getting his full attention proved harder. His stare remained plastered to the screen.
“I didn’t tell you because I’m not even sure that I’ll even get in and because I wanted to avoid this,” I said, opening up my hand and pointing it face up toward him.
It wasn’t the real reason, and I knew I should have told him, but he, now, had given me a temporary leg on which to stand, so I stood my ground. Who was he to say where I could go to school?
“Avoid what? Me being a part of your life?” Will asked sternly. “Don’t I get a say in anything? Does it matter where I want you to go?”
Confused by his line of questioning, I paused to evaluate the conversation and to manage the mercury in my anger thermometer, which by now, was rising quickly to boiling , before continuing.
“Will, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, but at the same time, I should not have to ask you where I can and cannot apply to schools,” I protested.
There was a slight pause.
“Well, if you’re going to leave anyway, then what’s the point of us staying together? We should just end it now,” Will said coldly, still glaring into the muted television screen.
His cold words struck me hard and right to the heart. Sure, we had argued before – mostly about silly, little things like what time certain stores closed or how long it took to get to some places or what the real words were to certain songs, but this was different. I had never heard him hint at giving up on us before, and I had never heard words so cold come from the same lips that made me feel so loved.
“Will, you don’t mean that,” I demanded softly, growing more and more irritated with him.
I watched his eyes as they followed the figures dancing on the television
Will remained quiet just long enough for me to sense that something was wrong, though I waited for him to speak first as I racked my brain trying to figure out what that something was.
“You didn’t tell me that you were going away,” Will finally said, accusingly.
“Away? What do you mean?” I asked. I had a slight smirk on my face. Away seemed so vague. It almost sounded criminal – or worse.
“I know you applied to Missouri ,” he charged.
“And?” I punched back, though I knew I would have more explaining to do later. I knew he would never settle for that answer.
“It’s hours away, Julia,” Will said sternly, solemnly. “There’s several good schools right down the road.”
I paused for a moment, mostly to hold back my disdain for his disdain.
“Will, they’re hardly just down the road,” I protested. “And Missouri ’s a good school for me, you know that.”
Will remained silent and used the remote to flip through the television channels rhythmically. I watched him continuously press the channel button, not even bothering to see what was on each one, while he stared expressionlessly into the TV’s screen.
I moved over to the couch and took a seat on the piece of plush surface near Will’s stomach that had not been taken up by the tall, muscular figure. I swiveled around so that I faced him and then gently took the remote from his hand, muted the TV and set the channel changer down onto the surface of the coffee table.
Taking away his distractive device was easy. Getting his full attention proved harder. His stare remained plastered to the screen.
“I didn’t tell you because I’m not even sure that I’ll even get in and because I wanted to avoid this,” I said, opening up my hand and pointing it face up toward him.
It wasn’t the real reason, and I knew I should have told him, but he, now, had given me a temporary leg on which to stand, so I stood my ground. Who was he to say where I could go to school?
“Avoid what? Me being a part of your life?” Will asked sternly. “Don’t I get a say in anything? Does it matter where I want you to go?”
Confused by his line of questioning, I paused to evaluate the conversation and to manage the mercury in my anger thermometer, which by now, was rising quickly to boiling , before continuing.
“Will, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, but at the same time, I should not have to ask you where I can and cannot apply to schools,” I protested.
There was a slight pause.
“Well, if you’re going to leave anyway, then what’s the point of us staying together? We should just end it now,” Will said coldly, still glaring into the muted television screen.
His cold words struck me hard and right to the heart. Sure, we had argued before – mostly about silly, little things like what time certain stores closed or how long it took to get to some places or what the real words were to certain songs, but this was different. I had never heard him hint at giving up on us before, and I had never heard words so cold come from the same lips that made me feel so loved.
“Will, you don’t mean that,” I demanded softly, growing more and more irritated with him.
I watched his eyes as they followed the figures dancing on the television
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