Chapter 8
The next night, the Titans went on to the regionals, only to come back home with a hard earned victory. The bus ride home was loud and full of celebration, and the Titans were greeted with an equally warm welcome, with red and white confetti and streamers. A banner was hanging over the school's main entrance that read "Congratulations, Titans!" Friends, family, and students were crowded onto the campus to greet their winning football team, as the busses pulled into the loud, rambunctious lot.
Gerry silently got off the bus and was thrust into the whirlwind of excited fans who were patting him on the back, calling his name, and slapping him high-fives. Gerry went through his motions mechanically, his mind too busy to concentrate on what was going on around him. He wished that he could join his friends and enjoy their victory, but there was just too much to do and too much on his mind. He watched Julius meet up with his girlfriend and he smiled to himself, when Emma skipped up to him. Her wide smile glowed and her cheeks were rosy from the cold air. Her soft eyes glittered with excitement and Gerry couldn't help but feel better in her presence.
"Congratulations!" she exclaimed, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so proud of you!"
He smiled down at her. "Thanks, Emma."
"Isabelle was just here. She had to leave though, so she told me to tell you and the guys congratulations."
Isabelle was here, he thought, feeling his heart lurch. Gerry shook his head and tried to clear his mind, as he took her hand and started to lead her away from the crowds. "Listen, Emma, we need to talk. . ."
It was very late at night—and perhaps early morning—when Gerry pulled up into his driveway. He sat in his car and recalled that night's events. He and Emma had taken a walk to get away from the rowdy crowds to talk at his request.
"What is it, Gerry?" she had inquired. What could possibly be on his mind? Emma thought, bewildered. He just won one of the most important games; he'd usually be ecstatic. She saw the deep lines of thought settle onto his forehead and the hesitation in his eyes.
"Emma, I love you, always remember that." He looked up ahead, not wanting to meet her eyes. "But, I just don't think I love you the way I used to. We've grown apart and the gap between us is just too wide. I—we—both were aware of this, I think, because we tried real hard to fix everything. We spent lots more time together and we talked together more than we used to."
"Oh. Gerry—"
"Emma, this is really hard for me to do," he continued, interrupting her. "I still care for you, but I think we should go our separate ways." When he didn't hear her say anything, he mustered up what courage he had and glanced down at her. She seemed sad, but not to the extent that he had expected. In fact, she looked understanding.
"Gerry," she began gently, "I think you're right." She laughed at his confused and shocked expression and hooked her arm through his. "I've been noticing us drifting apart myself. We probably *are* better off just as friends." She sighed. "I'm still sad that we can't have what we used to have, but that feeling just ain't there anymore."
Gerry breathed a sigh of relief and hugged her, feeling half of the burden he was carrying lifted. When he pulled away he grinned and said, "Well, come on, let's go party!"
From the driver's seat in his Camaro, Gerry looked up at the sky and thought of that night not too long ago, when he and Isabelle walked the streets of Alexandria. It was a beautiful night; the moon was bright, and the sky was clear, so the stars twinkled brightly above the celebrating town. He smiled to himself and knew he needed to sort his thoughts and feelings out about Isabelle—after all, she was the reason most of this was happening. He had mixed emotions about her, and decided he would spend the night in bed thinking and sorting, thinking and sorting. He finally got out of his car and out of his daydream only to see Julius on his porch. He was sitting on a chair, hunched over, his hands clasped tightly together and his elbows resting on his knees. His chin rested on his hands as he stared mindlessly into space.
From his walkway, Gerry tried to look into Julius' glazed eyes and sober face. He squinted and searched his friend's expressions for a hint as to what as going on in his mind. "Julius, is something the matter?" Gerry asked, starting to climb the stairs to his porch.
Startled from his thoughts, Julius jumped up from his seat and pounced on Gerry immediately. "Bertier, where have you been? Me and Petey and Alan have been turning this town upside down looking for you!"
"I. . . I was out with Emma and a few people. Why, what's wrong?"
Julius swallowed hard, but remained strong. He had to; God knew how Gerry would react. "There ain't no easy way to tell this to you," he started, trying to keep his voice steady, " so I'll just come right out and say it."
"Well?" he demanded impatiently. "What is it?"
"Isabelle is in the hospital."
