My Butterfly

big, brown eyes continued to stare into mine. Then, eventually, she nodded her head, and it seemed as if she tried to smile.
    “Okay,” she said so softly that I could barely hear her.
    She stood there for a little while longer, then turned toward the door, placed her hand on the doorknob and paused. I waited for her to turn around, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned the knob and slid past the door’s frame and into the warm house. I watched as the door closed gently behind her, until all I could see was a wreath hanging from a nail at the top of the door. I quickly read the inscription underneath the wreath’s big, red bow: ‘Tis the season to be merry.
    I let out a deep sigh and then followed with my eyes the path my breath made escaping back into the cold air.
    New Year’s resolution—find a way to make things right again.

Chapter Seventeen
    Gone
     
     
    “S o, how’d it go the other night?” Jeff asked as he sauntered into the room, one big foot after the other.
    “What?” I asked.
    I was finishing up a paramedic class assignment and would rather not hear Jeff’s voice over it, but I knew we couldn’t always get what we wanted.
    “The party,” he said.
    I stared at the words on the page in front of me for a second longer before I looked up at him.
    “You really have no idea?” I asked.
    He was giving me a puzzled look.
    “No, Jessica seemed kind of down at school,” he said. “I figured she found out you were still in love with Julia.”
    I impatiently looked up at him, then leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes with my palms.
    “Julia saw Jessica holding my hand, and she left the party early with Rachel,” I said. “When I got up to get a drink that last time, I was going to talk to her, but Rachel stopped me. They left right after that.”
    “You were holding hands with Jessica?” he asked. “Dude, you weren’t supposed to hold her hand.”
    “I know that,” I said. “She just grabbed it, and then all of a sudden, Julia was there in the doorway, and I was screwed.”
    “She grabbed your hand?” he asked.
    He had a disgusted look on his face.
    I audibly sighed.
    “Julia left, Jeff,” I said.
    “Well, has she called?” he asked.
    I flashed him another impatient look.
    “No, idiot, it turns out holding another girl’s hand just makes the ex-girlfriend leave you quicker the second time,” I said. “How did I let you talk me into that?”
    “Well, they’re supposed to call. They get jealous, and then they call,” he said.
    “Jeff, she’s not going to call,” I said. “She’s not jealous. She’s gotta think that I’m the biggest jerk in the world right now.”
    He planted his feet in front of me and leaned up against a tall stool.
    “Oh,” he said.
    His face turned a little more sympathetic.
    “Well, that doesn’t sound all bad,” he said. “It means she cares that you were holding Jessica’s hand.”
    He had a point—almost.
    “But she never called,” I said. “Jeff, I told her that I wanted to marry her, and then a month later, I’m sitting on a couch holding some girl’s hand when she shows up in the doorway.”
    “I just don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “It always works in the movies.”
    “In the movies?” I exclaimed, letting out a frustrated groan, as I threw my head back and rubbed my eyes again.
    “I’m doomed,” I said out loud.
    “Dude, it can’t be that bad,” he said.
    “No, I really screwed this up,” I said. “Rachel made that pretty clear.”
    I watched Jeff’s eyes lower to the floor.
    “She said something though,” I said, suddenly remembering back.
    Jeff’s eyes traveled up toward mine again.
    “Who? Julia?” he asked.
    “No,” I said. “Rachel. She said that I don’t know Jules as well as I think I do or something like that.”
    Jeff’s eyebrows furrowed together.
    “Well, of course you don’t,” he said. “She’s a girl. They think and feel things on a daily basis that we’ll never think or feel in a lifetime.”
    A crooked smile shot to my lips.
    “I guess you’re right, buddy,” I said.
    Jeff paused for a second then before he opened his mouth again.
    “So, you gonna call Jessica then?” he asked, hesitantly.
    He was wearing two, sad eyes now.
    “No, I told her I wasn’t ready for a relationship,” I said.
    He seemed as if he wanted to smile but stymied it.
    “I’m sorry, buddy,” he said.
    My eyes fell back onto the book in front of me.
    “Actually, I was thinking