Chapter 28: Yaron

“You’re not coming for the holidays,” I was sure I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

“I’m sorry, Yaron, but I can’t. I can’t lose my job. I don’t have enough money to buy a plane ticket, either.”

I wanted to tell her that I would pay for it, but I knew Vee well enough to know that it wouldn’t make a difference. She had made up her mind, and nothing I said would make her change her decision.

So stubborn. So proud. So free.

I knew from the day Vee left for Los Angeles that I was always going to be her second choice. Her dreams would always come first. I wasn’t just talking about us; I was also talking about her father and Barnaby. All the people she had left behind and whom we had stopped asking for.

“What about your savings?”

“Los Angeles isn’t Seattle, Yaron,” she answered defensively. “I had spent it on getting professional photos taken for an audition. I also had to buy some clothes suitable for the castings.”

I couldn’t believe it. After months without us being face to face. After having promised me that she would do everything possible to get us to see each other as soon as work allowed it. After having gotten my hopes up, which had just shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Christmas it’s just another day,” she said. “Besides you are Jewish.”

“Maybe for you,” I mumbled. “And we celebrate Hanukkah.”

I gritted my teeth because it hurt. Very soon, we wouldn’t even be friends. I was the only one still holding on to something that was slipping through my fingers.

“Don’t make it harder for me, Yaron. We’re not ten anymore.”

The Vee I knew would have never said something like that. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. I needed to stop idealizing a relationship that was, perhaps, never perfect, even though it felt that way to me.

That day, we didn’t say goodbye, we didn’t say, “I miss you” or “I love you.” I simply ended the call when the silence became too thick.

I hung up the phone and stayed alone for a while before going back to my house. I was in Seattle for the holidays. Outside, the damp cold chilled me to the bone, but I didn’t move. I needed to think.

“Yaron, are you okay?”

I turned around and saw Daniel. He had a glass in his hand with a blue drink.

“What’s that?”

“Romulan Ale,” he said with a grin. “Once ounce of blue curacao and two ounces of vodka in an ice-filled glass.”

I couldn’t help but smile and emptied half of the glass in one long gulp.

“Yes ... No...” He raised an eyebrow and I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“That explains a lot,” Daniel said, and we both laughed. He sat next to me and took a sip from my glass. He had come back home from the M.I.T. for Christmas break, too.