Not If I See You First. Eric Lindstrom

he say why?” Sarah asks.

      “He said we were growing apart. That we both knew things were cooling off and he didn’t want to drag it out when we only had one more year at school.”

      “Was he right?” I ask. “Were things cooling off?”

      “I didn’t think so, but …”

      Silence. This is what I need from Sarah later, whether this girl is looking at her hands, looking up at the sky trying to find words, glancing at all the faces not wanting to share with a crowd …

      “We can’t keep entire conversations confidential because honestly it’s too hard to sort everything out,” Sarah says. “But if there’s anything specific you want us to keep to ourselves, we will. Just tell us.”

      “It’s not that. It’s just … well … I guess things weren’t that hot in the first place?”

      “You’re not that into him, or he into you?” I say.

      “Oh, we’re great together, but … maybe he wants to go faster than I do?”

      I say, “He said things were cooling off but he actually meant things weren’t heating up fast enough.”

      “Maybe.”

      “Did you two talk about it?” Sarah asks.

      “No. I didn’t say much. I was at work, and I really didn’t expect it. I dunno. I just felt like I blew it somehow. I didn’t want to make it worse by trying to figure out what went wrong and promising to fix it or begging or whatever. I just wanted to hang up. So I did and that was it. Well, until last week. He started calling me again.”

      “He wants to get back together?”

      “He didn’t say that. And I didn’t ask. He just said he misses me and wants to catch up.”

      “And you don’t know whether you want to?” Sarah asks.

      “I don’t know if I should.”

      “There is no should,” I say.

      “Parker’s right,” Sarah adds quickly, which tells me to let her follow her line so I clam up. “I asked whether you want to. That’s what matters.”

      “I dunno. I do, I guess. We really get along and stuff. I miss hanging out … but … after he broke up with me … I dunno … I think it’d be weird.”

      “Weird how?” Sarah says quickly. To emphasize the importance of the question and to get it out before I go off on her, which Sarah must know is about to happen.

      “I dunno. Just weird. I didn’t see it coming the first time so it could happen again anytime without me expecting it. I’d be thinking that all the time. I guess that’s true with anyone, though. I just wasn’t thinking about it before.”

      “So what do you want to do?” Sarah asks.

      “I guess … I want to be with him. I just don’t want to be looking over my shoulder all the time, you know?”

      “Yes, definitely,” Sarah says.

      “So … what should I do?”

      “We don’t tell anyone what to do—”

      “Except when it’s obvious,” I say, unable to hold back any longer. “You just said it. Go find someone to be with where you don’t have to look over your shoulder. Is that this guy, what’s his name?”

      “Gabe.”

      “Gabe. Is Gabe a guy you’ll have to look over your shoulder with?”

      “I guess so.”

      “Problem solved.”

      “But I miss hanging out …”

      “He said things weren’t hot enough for him. Give the guy points for breaking up before he went to Spain to have a fling without cheating, but he loses them again for trying to worm his way back to you now that he’s back, to see if a summer alone—were you alone?”

      “Yeah.”

      “To see if losing him for three months might have changed your mind about whether you wanted to put out to keep him.”

      “He never said that. I don’t think he’s trying to be sneaky—”

      “We already know he’s sneaky. He was your boyfriend; didn’t he know your work schedule? And he texts you while you’re at work saying We need to talk. He knows you have to reply to that. And when you do he says you guys should talk in person, knowing you won’t be able to wait. Then he breaks up with you on the phone, saving himself the awkwardness of doing it face-to-face but making it your fault. If he wasn’t sneaky, he would’ve just waited till the next time you were together.”

      Silence.

      “The point is,” I say, “if he wasn’t happy before, why would he be happy now? Either he’s changed or he’s hoping you have. Have you changed?”

      “I don’t think so.”

      “He hasn’t either, sorry to tell you. People don’t change. They just learn from experience and become better actors.”

      More silence.

      Sarah says, “I don’t know if this helps, but we’re here every morning if you want to talk.”

      I hear shuffling and footsteps.

      “They’re gone,” Sarah says.

      “How’d it end?”

      “She looked confused. The usual cognitive dissonance. She wants to get back what she thought she had, knows it’s not really there, really wants it to be, and is struggling with how much to rationalize to get it back.”

      “Wait, what the hell just happened?” Molly says. “Regina walked up and told you all that and you’ve never even met?”

      “It’s something we do,” Sarah says. “Everyone at Adams knows. We listen to anything without being judgmental—”

      I snort but Sarah ignores me.

      “—and we offer unbiased observations and advice. We do a pretty good job of keeping things confidential …”

      “Is she looking at me?” I say. “I keep the sensitive stuff quiet, but part of the value we provide is knowing things about other people. For instance, we were helping—”

      “Parker!” Sarah snaps.

      “Fine!” I say. “I wasn’t going to say any names.”

      “You guys …” Molly says. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re serious, but Regina … I mean …”

      “She said you knew about her breakup,” I say. “She talk to you?”

      “A little.”

      “What’d you tell her?”

      “I mostly agreed with whatever she said. It seemed like what she needed.”

      “Of course. When he’s dreamy, he’s dreamy; when he’s a jerk, he’s a jerk. A lot of people need that, but they also need the truth they usually can’t get from friends. Talking the way we do is tough for people to do and stay friends.”

      “She means the way she talks,” Sarah says. “And yes, it’s absolutely hard to stay friends with her talking the way she does.”

      “Ouch,” I say. “But it’s what people need; that’s why they come to us. They don’t have months or years to do it the old-fashioned way, professional-like. So Sarah starts it off right and then I cut to the chase.”

      “How did this even start?” Molly asks. “You guys sitting out here … How do people know?”

      I