A List For Ellen

Declan had a list, and it covered the reasons he stayed in a relationship with Ellen for all those years. One of the top three points on his list marked the most prominent feature in Ellen’s personality. It was actually what made him notice Ellen first, the day they met. They might never have crossed paths, or talked to one another, had Declan not left the campus in search of a new pair of shoes. It was strange because he rarely left campus, except for emergencies like this. The university was a stickler for uniforms, and he just so happened to be wrapped up in a lab incident that involved chemical on his shoes and the teacher panicking and chucking them into an acid-proof disposable waste bag.

So Declan didn’t have shoes. Great. And the problem wasn’t even his fault—it was the kid across the lab table who was the idiot, not Declan. He was clear on putting that point across. It wasn’t his fault.

There was a shuttle that came infrequently to and from the university, so he was in a rush to catch it after classes. As he paid the fare, the driver gave him a subtle once over and a disapproving look. Declan figured it was because he was in socks. But thankfully, the “no shoes no service” rule didn’t apply here. It was a public bus after all.

Declan’s backpack was about as dense as a black hole, so he dropped it onto the ground between his feet and, for the remainder of the bus ride, read up on his organic chemistry textbook for the midterm coming up next week.

That said, he wasn’t great at organic chemistry, or chemistry in general. It was a wonder he was even able to understand romantic chemistry later on in life. Sometimes, if he thought about it long enough, he stressed himself out enough to vow never to deal with the emotional crap that came with a relationship. So, he just never had one before Ellen. Platonically or romantically.

His stop came so he zipped up his backpack, book under one arm, and stood. It was nearing dusk, so the lighting in town was a warm autumn yellow, and just chilly enough to warrant a jacket. The town was a small one, but a college one, which meant that a lot of the people up and about were students. The fact that it was a Friday night also meant that Declan exited with several other students in front of him.

The university kids left the bus and happened to stop right at the curb where Declan intended to exit. Distracted, as per usual, Declan mused irritably, staggering to the side to avoid colliding with them. They were talking loudly and laughing, and one guy happened to swing his arm in just the right angle to slap Declan’s book right out of his hands and off the curb.

It landed as one would expect 1200 page textbook to land—hard and loud enough to gather the attention of all those assholes standing too close to the curb outside of the bus stop. And they all saw as the bus rolled away, its wheels pushed right over the book and completely dented the spine, the edges of the covers, and broke the binding.

“Are you kidding me!” Declan exploded, turning on the kid who slapped the book out of his hand.

“Holy shit—I’m so sorry,” the guy said, and he actually sounded genuinely apologetic.

“That book cost me two hundred dollars!” he exclaimed. “What the hell!”

“Look man, I didn’t mean it—I’m sorry—Jesus!” the guy screamed like a child when Declan came at the collar of his jacket, only to be reeled back by the guy’s friends. They weren’t aggressive about it, but Declan shook away from them anyway and shoved them back. A girl got down off the curb and picked up the book.

“You piece of shit. You better pay for half of it unless you want my foot up your—”

“Hey,” his friend said, holding the book. “He said he was sorry. This is for OC, right?”

Declan stared at her, seething, fists bunched up at his sides and backpack sliding off his shoulder. “Yeah, and I have a fucking midterm next week—”

She glanced around her friends and pointed to a wide-eyed girl in the back. “You still have your OC book from last year, right?”

“Yeah, I was gonna sell it but I mean, I could lend it to you for the rest of the semester,” she said with a shrug. They all looked a little guilty, or maybe they all just naturally looked like that.

The girl handed Declan his demolished textbook and said, “What’s your name? We’ll get you the textbook tomorrow or something.”

Declan took the book and adjusted the strap on his backpack, glancing at all the eyes watching him. “Declan Birtchnell."

The guilty guy said, “I’m real sorry about your textbook. I swear we aren’t those awful upperclassmen freshmen hear about.”

“I gathered that,” Declan shot back sourly. “What are your names?”

The helpful girl reached out a hand and said, “Eleanor Hollington, but my friends call me Ellen so you can too.” Declan accepted her hand and thought nothing of it as he moved on to meet the others. The guy who dropped the book was Pierce, a fellow studying astrophysics. The one who opted to lend Declan her OC book was studying atmospherical sciences and meteorology, which explained why she kept the OC book in her possession—her name was Meredith.

After finishing his rounds, Ellen raised her eyebrows at Declan and pointed to his feet. “Are you… not wearing shoes?”

Declan scoffed and said, “Maybe.” It got a laugh out of her friends, so he explained that he was on his way to get new shoes. They suggested a shop down the street, since they were more familiar with the town than Declan was.

He realized that he really appreciated Ellen then, and, although grudgingly, admitted that he admired her for standing up to Declan. She cared about her friends enough to stand up for them. She cared about strangers enough to offer assistance when needed. 

It’s why Declan put this in the second spot on his list: Protects The People She Loves.

. . .

Declan’s freshmen dorm was reluctantly shared with an awkward fellow whom he wished not to associate with his second meeting with Ellen, but again, reluctantly, his roommate was involved. Declan thinks his name was TrollhouseCookie because that was his League of Legends username and refused to give it up for real conversation. He shortened it to Cookie because he couldn’t deal with the Trollhouse part for the life of him.

Cookie was stuck with the mindset that being in a space exploration program would improve his overall performance in MMORPG games, specifically under the science fiction genre. Declan was certain he lost half his hearing to cranking up the volume on his headphones all day, just to avoid Cookie’s rage-quits.

It was because Declan’s headphones were blaring so loud that he missed the sound of someone knocking on their door. He saw Cookie get up from his setup after a while, and looked up from his homework in time to regret letting him answer the door.

“Hey, this is Declan’s room right?” It was a girl’s voice, and Declan winced as Cookie was instantly in panic-mode and floundering more awkwardly than usual.

“O-Oh hey! Yeah, yeah, this is Declan’s room—our room—we’re roommates how do you know Declan? Are you in classes together? I-I really like your hair,” Cookie blurted out with zero self-control, but Declan instantly realized that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Cookie usually had no self-control—hence the several PS3 game disks shattered in the garbage.

In retrospect, they were actually really similar, if Declan was super into MMORPG games, which he wasn’t.

Declan bolted out of his chair and pulled Cookie back from the door. He opened it a bit further, and rapidly took in the sight of Meredith holding the OC textbook up. Behind her was Ellen, who waved, and Pierce, who offered a weak smile.

“Thanks for bringing this by. Are you sure you won’t need it?” Declan asked, sounding just as awkward as he felt. He could feel Cookie breathing down his neck, so he closed the door a bit further.

Meredith eyed Cookie warily and offered a smile that was on the verge of being apologetic. “No, not really. If I do I’ll just text you.”

“O-Okay,” Declan stammered. He elbowed Cookie in the side and hoped he got the hint. “If that’s it then I’ll just…”

“Actually,” Ellen interjected, “you mentioned the OC midterm. We all took it last year so if you needed someone to study with, we’re available this afternoon. Pierce got a perfect score.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say perfect. I got one wrong,” Pierce said, leaning in from behind Ellen.

“The curve made it perfect,” Meredith added, “and also screwed the rest of us over. But we’d really like to help you out so you’re the Pierce of the class.”

Holy shit, Declan’s brain screamed. He couldn’t really function—it’d been an entire month and he hadn’t managed to hold a conversation this long with anyone in his classes unless it was related to school. This was related to school. As soon as he realized that he cursed himself for thinking otherwise. “That sounds… perfect.”

They arranged for a place to meet—the study room on the third floor of the upperclassmen dorms. So that afternoon, Declan had to navigate the upperclassmen halls. They were more up to date than the freshmen dorms, with polished walls and fresh carpet that didn’t look like it came straight out of the 70s. The doors were powered by card, and slid open with gentle hisses. Declan didn’t have to deal with doors until he reached the study room, which required card access. His card didn’t work with it—he wasn’t an upperclassman.

From the window he recognized Pierce’s bleach-blond hair, with Meredith sitting across from him. Ellen’s back was to him, but when he knocked on the glass, she turned to look and leapt to her feet.

The door hissed open and Ellen welcomed Declan with a simple, “Did you get lost at all?”

“Not really,” Declan confessed. “Your side is better than ours by far.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Meredith said, waving a pen in the air. “Everything’s automatic except the toilets.”

Declan stared at her for a minute before realizing she was being sarcastic, so he settled for: “Again, your side is way better than ours.” Ellen laughed, stepping around from behind Declan and took a seat at the table. It was a six-person table, so he took the one next to her, and wondered if he’d seem standoffish to Pierce, like he was holding a grudge (which he was, but he wasn’t going to admit it). Thankfully, the man didn’t give him a weird look.

To his surprise, they all brought old class notes with them, and were collaborating on problems for Declan to solve. Meredith even had her old exam handout, and while they worked on their own homework, Declan set to work on their makeshift exam.

He focused entirely on the problems at hand, brow creasing inwards and pen tapping against his cheek as he thought through the mathematics of compound chemical structures. It took ages to complete the individual problems, as it always did for Declan, but all that time must have paid off because as Ellen checked the answers and the work, Declan only got one wrong out of ten.

“Don’t get frustrated—this is really good. Your work’s right, but some of the numbers are wrong. Try it again,” she told Declan, passing him the paper.

After he convinced himself that he admired Ellen for her initiative the day before, Declan spent the rest of the day trying to convince himself otherwise. It was ridiculous—how much of a cliche could he be? A freshman looking up to a junior. It was childish and Declan loathed to think that he had to have someone to look up to. 

Declan hoped both Pierce’s and Ellen's OC skills would rub off on him. He just wanted to pass organic chemistry and not have to retake it next semester.

. . .

Declan did pass the organic chemistry exam. In the middle of the week, when their classes swamped them with homework, Pierce and Meredith dropped out of two of the sessions to study in the privacy of their dorms. It left Declan with only Ellen.

It wasn’t until their first time alone that Declan realized why he was so jittery before every meet up. Being around people seemed to cause his adrenaline to spike, and his anxiety to shoot up with it. Sometimes he would psych himself out so much that he wouldn’t even make it to the study room and he’d already be sweating and hyperventilating. Of course, it always came in short, brief spurts and he thought it was just one of the many things introverts had to deal with.

Once he was with them, though, that anxiety vanished. They were so calm and collected and seemed as though they genuinely cared about how Declan was, and how he’d do on his exam. He wondered if they ever looked forward to seeing him like he did with them.

That feeling he’d get, like someone had just taken his heart and squeezed it like a stress ball, would peak the second he approached the study room and found Ellen alone. It registered that Ellen was the reason for it. Ellen was the reason Declan lost his shit every day getting overly thrilled by the idea of hanging out.

I’m completely insane, he rationalized as he stepped into the room. I’m not that obsessed with her. “Where’d the others go?” Declan asked, approaching the table.

Ellen looked up and smiled at him. “You made it—I thought you skipped out too.”

Declan frowned and look at his phone. He was a bit late—seven minutes exactly. “I got distracted,” he lied, and took a seat. “What do you mean ‘skip out’?”

“Pierce had to finish a lab and Meredith needed to study in quiet,” Ellen explained. “But I can still help you out if you need it.”

He was surprised to find the grip on his heart starting to twist. God, he really didn’t need some phantom hand giving him a snakebite right now. “If you have to study for something, I don’t mind working in my own room.”

Ellen huffed a laugh, leaning back into her chair as if prepared to say something, but thought better of it and shook her head. “No, no—I’m fine here.”

“What were you going to say?” Declan asked, dropping his backpack onto the table.

“Nothing, it wasn’t nice.”

At this, Declan scowled, and the grip on his chest vanished. “If it’s about me you damn well better say it to my face—”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Ellen said, now bursting out into laughter. “You said you’d be fine working in your own room, and I thought to myself: ‘With TrollhouseCookie?’”

Declan was so surprised that he lost his composure, and managed to snort instead of laugh. Ellen, still giggling, tried to explain herself: “I mean, I’m sure Cookie’s a good kid and all, but from what you tell me…”

“He’s fine. I figured everyone gets a quirky roommate at one point or another,” Declan said, waving his hand.

For the first hour all they did was talk. They weren’t personal topics, but the subject of Cookie transitioned into the article Ellen was reading, which led to their obvious shared love of space travel.

“Do you ever think about how the universe is just constantly expanding,” Declan asked her, and Ellen, who was now leaning against the table with her arms folded over one another, nodded her head vigorous.

“Oh yeah. Also the fact that Andromeda is moving towards us instead of away, which means that eventually—far far from now, nothing we need to worry about yet—”

“Andromeda’s going to collide with the Milky Way,” Declan finished, smiling a little. “It is incredible. A professor of mine thought it was mind boggling how it’s a complete anomaly, going against Newton’s first law of motion. That is, if you believe in the Big Bang Theory.

“But my point about bringing up universe expansion was that… If everything is moving farther away from each other, by the time we master space travel, it will take twice as long to get anywhere other than our solar system. Yeah, we might be able to colonize one of Jupiter’s moons and all, but what about studying the other side of the universe?” Declan asked, and shuttered a little. “It freaks me out, thinking about how alone we are out here. Sure, Andromeda will be closer, but imagine all the stars disappearing from the sky because they’re too far away to see.”

Declan hummed in agreement, and felt the distinct urge to lay his chin down on his hands and listen to Ellen talk more about her classes and her ideas, her beliefs. The study room was small, and empty except for them, as it was most nights. He had his feet propped up on the chair at the end of the table, and Ellen had her book pushed to the side, all attention on Declan.

“I like talking to you,” Ellen confessed after a moment, and a heartbeat later it felt like someone punched Declan directly in the ribs. “But we really need to get back to studying.”

. . .

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay together. We’re both swamped with work, with me still being in school and exams coming up. You should really just focus on the Mars Voyage since it’s so important to you, and it’s the greatest opportunity you’ve gotten. So I’m not asking you to decide between me or Mars—I’ve thought about it and I shouldn’t have made you think that I was against you going. And besides, after you get back, I’ll be at an internship somewhere, so… it’s fair to assume we might not even see each other again—ah, for Christ’s sake. ‘Fair to assume’, what am I a lawyer or something?”

Declan crinkled up the paper in his hands and stared at himself in the mirror and realized that his eyes were getting red. He cussed under his breath and looked down at the sink, gripping the edge of it and wondering how long it’d take for him to get his shit together and just say it.

He decided winging it was a terrible, terrible idea. Whenever he did that, he ended up exploding into a million pieces and just upsetting the matter further. He didn’t want their breakup to be devastating. He wanted it to be logical. Rational.

He was interrupted by two knocks on the front door, and the handle turning. Instantly he rushed to the bathroom door and shut it, and locked it.

There wasn’t much noise on the other side of the door, but maybe that’s because his rapidly beating heart was masking it. He braced his hands over his chest and tried to pace his breathing. Dear God he didn’t want to feel like this again. It’d been years since he felt like this and it was suffocating him and he couldn’t breathe and—

“Declan?” Ellen’s voice was on the other side of the door, knocking gently on the wood. “Are you all right?”

He had the words right on the tip of his tongue, something like, “Yeah, I’m just taking a piss,” but it didn’t come out. They lodged in his throat like the air he was trying to take in. His hand scrambled to hold onto the sink, dropping the words he wanted to say on the floor.

“Declan,” she repeated, this time urgent, knocking again. Everything was conflicting—he was just preparing to break up with Ellen and now he wants to seek comfort in her? How will he be able to do this? He can’t do this, he can’t break up with Ellen if he can’t get his shit together—

Still, he went to the door and fumble with the lock until his shaking hands finally managed to unlock it. Declan stepped away, gasping as if he just ran ten miles and suddenly feeling all the moisture on his cheeks and how puffy he felt from crying unknowingly.

The door opened slowly, and Declan tried unsuccessfully to breathe again. It was crippling and hot and devastating all at once, and when he saw the look on Ellen’s face, seeing him like this, it sent Declan to his knees sobbing.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Ellen said, opening the door fully and stepping into the bathroom. “How long have you been here like this?” she asked as soon as he was able.

“J-Just when you came th-through the door,” Declan said, breath hitching at the start of words. “I-I was thinking a-and—I can’t say it. I can’t say it,” he gasped, shaking his head. He pulled one of his hands free to point to the paper on the ground, the one he bunched up after reciting the words he thought he’d tell Ellen.

“I-I can wait until you can say it,” Ellen said.

“No,” Declan pressed. “Read it now. I-I can’t say it.”

Ellen held Declan’s other hand as she reached over and flattened out the paper on her lap. She sniffed, pushing the back of her hand under her eyes. Hardly a second into it, she murmured, “Declan…” under her breath.

After a moment, Ellen read it out loud, voice uneven and wavering until the end when she finished with, “‘—might not even see each other again, and I love you too much to deny you the happiness someone else might offer you without compromising the future you spent your entire life working towards. I’m sorry it has to be this way, and I wouldn’t take back a day of our relationship… no matter how annoyed you get when I tease you and argue with you. I do it because I love you.’

“Is this what you want?” Ellen asked after a moment. She didn’t sound opposing or argumentative. She just wanted to know.

Somehow Declan found the strength to stare her in the eyes and say, “It is. Is that okay?”

At this Ellen, already red and splotchy in the face, burst into tears and pulled Declan towards her for a hug. “Is it okay? Declan, you don’t have to ask if it’s okay,” she said, laughing a little but mostly it sounded like she was sobbing against Declan’s hair. 

“If you don’t want to stay together, that’s perfectly justifiable. A-And I’ll be okay with it. Only if you’ll be,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down Declan’s back. He tightened his grip around her abdomen and nodded, because he was so thankful that he could finally breathe again.

. . .

“You piece of absolute shit.”

Meredith was on a rampage. Her hatred for Declan came in the form of Reader’s Digest magazines, National Geographic, and a hardcover coffee table book that her friend shrieked at her for throwing—“That cost twenty dollars!”

“A small price to pay for someone I thought was a friend!” Meredith started running around the island counter, and Declan took off in the opposite direction. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come!” he shouted over their screaming.

He ran for the door, and just as Meredith’s flatmate shouted, “Duck!” and the coffee book crashed into the front door. Declan staggered to the side, staring back in terror where Meredith seethed down the hall. “I—I’ll come back later,” he suggested, diving out the door and shutting it behind him.

He didn’t stop running until he was halfway across campus.

But Declan didn’t end up coming back to Meredith’s apartment for another week. It gave him enough time to try and figure out what her goddamn problem was. For someone analytical as Declan, it wasn’t hard for him to figure it out. Meredith was Ellen’s best friend, even after the launch. Ellen wasn’t around anymore, that much was clear, because the Mars Voyage took her away from them all. But before that, before the Mars Voyage, Declan was gone from all of their lives.

It just… felt wrong. Like he was torturing himself every second he spent with her after his breakup proposal.

“Declan?” Meredith’s voice startled him, and he remembered to be afraid. He recoiled back from her, an arm raised. “I don’t have any books on me,” she confessed.

She was holding a satchel by its handle, and gently gestured it behind her. “I was just getting back from work. You… want to come in?” She didn’t seem to be in the mood for book-throwing, so he agreed.

“I’m sorry about… attacking you, earlier. I'm just... really upset,” she confessed as she fiddled around with her ID card that would swipe them into the flat. Meredith tossed her badge on the counter, along with her satchel and then folded her cardigan over one of the stools by the counter. “I just don’t see why you never contacted me, or Pierce even. He claims you haven’t even called in over a month.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me!” she cried out, but instantly faltered. “Well, yes, I’d like an apology. But not about that.”

“Then what is it? I know I’ve been a bit distant lately—”

“A bit?” she repeated, exacerbated. “A bit distant? You come into my flat, leave saying you’ll come back, and I’m expecting a day at most. People don’t just drop off the face of the Earth like that, Declan. You can’t just… leave like that. Like how you left Ellen.”

She seethed, voice rising, “You tore her heart out, Declan. I hope you realize that.” He wasn’t able to look her in the eye. He kept his gaze to the countertop, and kept himself steady by leaning against it. 

“The way you acted…” she started, but broke away to shake her head with a sigh. “It was like you suddenly turned off a switch. And it really hurt, seeing you act like a stranger to us—not just Ellen. But… she really tried, Declan. She really tried to stay on good terms with you, but you were such a little dip shit, going around ignoring her, moving out of the apartment. When you started ditching Movie Fridays, you know she came to my door in tears.”

Still staring at the countertop, Declan tugged the fabric of his shirt, wishing he could claw through his skin to stop his chest from hurting so much. But he knew that physical pain didn’t take the emotional pain away.

His throat felt swollen. “I didn’t know. Ellen agreed with me—we had a mutual understanding over our breakup!” he countered. “It didn’t make sense to stay together!”

“You’re thinking too concretely!” she shouted. “Even if you broke up because of the Mars Voyage, you didn’t break up because of the emotional aspect! Jesus, Declan, it’s not like you weren’t still attracted to her, or cared about her. But you acted like you didn’t! You acted like you didn’t and that made Ellen rethink everything. She thought you didn’t love her anymore because you didn’t even give a damn about how she responded to the breakup.

“It’s hard for people to take that, Declan, especially Ellen. You know how sensitive she is about those subjects,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck as she sighed shakily. “We both knew there was more to it than that, but… she couldn’t stop thinking about how, maybe, the timing was perfect, and convenient for you to admit that you didn’t like her anymore.”

. . .

The first time Declan saw Ellen after their break up was nearly nine years later. It just added to the number of reasons why they broke up: they never would have crossed paths otherwise. Being with her again gave him the urge to say whatever was on his mind, like he felt when they were together. So he did. 

“Did you have a list?”

Ellen tilted her head. “A list for what?”

“Of all the reasons you stayed in a relationship with me,” Declan explained. The question must not have been on her radar, because she answered with a look of surprise. Declan’s entire face felt like an oven, and rambling just seemed to let the steam out. “I mean, if you didn’t, that’s fine. It was just on my mind—”

“You had one for me, didn’t you?” she interrupted, and he nodded. “That sounds like something you’d do. And yes, I had a list. I spent a lot of time in a spaceship. And a lot of time thinking about Earth, and thinking about you.”

“What were your top three reasons?” he asked. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

She was still smiling as she stared down at her lap and ticked them off her fingers. “Number three was: Having someone to make coffee for, and number two was: Brings up bizarre, unrelated topics I wouldn’t have thought of otherwise, and number one was: Having someone to watch movies with.”

“Holy shit,” Declan exclaimed. “Your number one is my number three.”

“Really?” she laughed. “What's your number one?”

"The Epitome Of Support, which is just a fancy way of saying that you… were the only person I depended on with things I would have just kept to myself.” Like studying for organic chemistry when he was a freshman, like helping him through his anxiety, like the sort of person he could stand to live with.

She was the sort of person he could stand to be in a relationship with.