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Nixon: My favorite memories. Maybe we can go down this summer.
Savvy: Nixon…
Nixon: One day. I'm asking you to give me one day while you’re home for Thanksgiving to let me make it all up to you.
Savvy: And if I say no?
Nixon: You’d never say no to me.
Savvy: I'm bringing friends home with me. What am I supposed to do with them?
Nixon: I’ll give them some money for dinner and a movie.
I'm not joking. I’ll fork out any amount of money if it means I can have her all to myself. I only need one day to remind her what a great time we always had together.
Savvy: I’ll think about it, but no promises.
It’s her inability to be mean that keeps her from saying no. She never wants to shut someone out of her life and risk upsetting them. It’s just the way she is. Even though she wants to tell me to go fuck off, she’s going to says she’ll think about it because that’s who she is.
Nixon: Please?
Chapter 5
Savannah
Nixon: Please?
The ache filling my chest intensifies a little more. I don’t know why talking to Nixon brings back all the pain of what he did. We were never in a relationship past friendship, but I’d always wanted more. One day we were completely fine, we were writing letters back and forth, and talking to each other as much as we could on the phone. But then, all communication just stopped.
I had no clue if Nixon was dead or alive. It was weeks before I found out Nixon was injured. I had to call Mrs. Russo and beg her for information. She told me he was alive, but got hurt. I wasn’t given anything else. She said Nixon didn’t want me to know.
That was the biggest betrayal of all. He didn’t want me, his best friend, to know what was happening to him. He kept me in the dark. He kicked me out of his life without a second thought. There were no more letters. No more late-night phone calls. Nothing.
The grief I felt was unlike anything else. I never got closure, just one day he was gone from my life and no matter how hard I tried to contact him, he kept me at a distance.
I was a sophomore in high school when Nixon was a senior. I’ll never forget how he was the star of the football team. He grew several inches over the summer before his senior year and was lifting weights every day. He went from a boy to a man in the course of three months and all the girls were begging for his attention.
Nixon didn’t care at all. Every day after school, he’d throw his arm around my shoulders and lead me to his car. He ignored every girl who called his name or tried to talk to him. He’d take me to the lake and we’d skip rocks or sit on the shore and talk until it was time for dinner.
Nixon came over for dinner almost every night. His mom was constantly traveling and his dad was often away on assignments in the military. I fully believe he only joined the military to make his dad proud.
After a few weeks of practically begging Nixon through voicemail and letters to talk to me, I just gave up. He made it clear we were no longer friends by keeping me in the dark.
Mom pushed me to not give up on him. She spoke to Mrs. Russo a few times a month and offered updates on Nixon, but I didn’t want to hear any of it. If he didn’t want me in his life, I didn’t want to know a single thing about him. There was no fixing what Nixon broke between us. I had no clue why he was pushing me out of his life, I just knew I didn’t matter to him anymore.
Just hearing his name would make my chest ache and my eyes water. Every time he was brought up, I’d make an excuse and quickly leave the room.
My parents always considered Nixon a son. I swear if they could’ve gotten custody of him, they probably would’ve adopted him for real. Nixon was at our house more than he was at his own when we were younger. After he left for boot camp, my house felt empty and quiet. I never felt so alone in my entire life.
Now, getting all these texts from him, I don’t know what to think. I don’t know how I'm supposed to react. But right this second, the ache is getting worse, the feelings from high school are back. I'm still the nerd I was then, but I have no clue who Nixon is now.
Scrolling back through the pictures he sent, a smile spreads over my lips. No matter how he treated me at the end, Nixon will always be a part of every good memory I have from my childhood. If I forgot all the ones he was part of, there would be very few left. My childhood would be empty.
Sav: Would I be spending the day with the Nixon in these photos or the one who turned his back on me and never spoke to me again?
Typing out those words makes the ache in my chest get even sharper. We had deep, honest conversations all the time. He was the person I told all my secrets to. The one I shared everything with. And after he was gone, I had no one.
I went through the rest of high school without any close friends. I always had someone to sit with at lunch or to go to the movies with, but I never had another friend like Nixon.
