Slowly We Trust

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  I had to swallow a few times before my mouth was wet enough to speak.

  “I do feel for you, Will. You’re my friend. But that’s all.” I couldn’t say more at the risk of saying too much.

  “You’re lying, Aud.” I was. “I can see it. So if you’re lying and hiding your feelings, then that means that there’s some reason you think we can’t be together.”

  “That’s not it, Will.” I struggled, but he wouldn’t let me go. I could feel everyone watching us, but there wasn’t anything we could do about that now. All I could do was convince him that I didn’t care about him as much as I did. “It’s not going to happen, okay? You and me. Isn’t. Going. To. Happen.”

  Being nice hadn’t worked. Maybe being a bitch would.

  His jaw clenched again and he stepped away from me. I might as well have slapped him in the face. I hated hurting him, but it was now, or later.

  “I tried to make you understand, but this isn’t going to work. I need to not see you for a while.” He started to say something else, but I put my hand up to stop him.

  “Just let me go, Will. Just let me go.” I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see me crying (again) and walked as fast as I could back to my dorm. There were plenty of people milling around campus after the game, so it was easy to get lost in the crowd. I heard my name being called by multiple voices, but I ignored them and kept walking.

  Just let me go. Her words repeated over and over in my head, like a skipping CD.

  Before anyone could try to stop her, Audrey was gone, swept up in the hockey revelers.

  “Let her go,” I said, wishing I could go somewhere and be alone. But that wasn’t possible.

  “Is everything okay?” Tyler said. “I feel like there’s a little bit of tension going on here.” It was more than a little bit. “I think I should go, so I’m going to do that. Thank you for a lovely evening and I’ll see you on Monday. Go Moose!” Tyler raised his fist and walked away. Everyone waved and then every eye turned to stare at me.

  “What the hell happened?” Lottie said, smacking me in the chest, as if I was the one who had driven Audrey away.

  “Look, she told me to let her go, okay? She said it’s too hard to see me, even as friends, so now I don’t even have that. I just . . . please, I just need to be alone right now.” I put my hands up and walked away from my friends and my sister.

  I just wanted to be alone.

  Having your own room was a blessing when you were a crying mess and you didn’t want someone incessantly asking you what was wrong. On the other hand, when you cried, there was no one to offer you a shoulder, or a tissue, or to take you out for ice cream.

  I let myself go and cry it out until I fell asleep in my clothes and woke up early the next morning. I felt disgusting and gross and sluggish and guilty.

  My first trip was to the shower to try to scrub off the previous evening and my second was to my minifridge for some sustenance in the form of Greek yogurt.

  I was a sad, sad sight, and I knew if Lottie or Katie or Trish or any of my friends saw me, they’d be shocked. I didn’t let myself get emotional in front of them, so when I needed to have my moments, I always made sure I was alone, or in the shower.

  There were about five thousand texts from each one of my friends, and tons of missed calls. I’d asked them to leave me alone, but they couldn’t take the hint. I turned my phone off and decided to lose myself in homework, but there was a knock at my door. Shoving my books aside, I went to check the peephole.

  Lottie was there, waiting with Katie and Trish and several bags from the grocery store. The Grief Committee had a new project: me.

  “We can see your feet under the door,” Trish said. “And I’m holding melting ice cream so you’d better open up before we force the RA to come unlock it because we’re worried about you. Don’t think we won’t.” Oh, I had no delusions that they wouldn’t go that far.

  I took one gigantic breath, pasted on a smile and opened the door.

  “Aw, Aud. We’re here for you,” Katie said, sweeping me into her arms. “Breakups aren’t easy, but we’re here for you.” I didn’t know why they couldn’t be here for me . . . somewhere else.

  “I thought I asked to be left alone,” I said, trying to keep the venom out of my voice.

  “I don’t remember that,” Lottie said, barging her way in and throwing the bags on the extra bed I’d been using as a study space and couch. “Do you remember that?” She directed her question to Katie, who shook her head.

  “Nope. No recollection,” Katie said, and elbowed Trish who agreed.

  “Guys, honestly.” At least I was dressed and showered. If they’d come over earlier, I wouldn’t have been presentable.

  Trish slammed the door with finality and the Cheer-Up Audrey party began.

  The party was your standard post-breakup affair. Ice cream, candy, chips and the standard fare of movies, including John Tucker Must Die, Pretty in Pink and the first two seasons of Gossip Girl.

  “Stryker offered to bring booze, in case you needed to drown your sorrows, but that didn’t seem like the best idea,” Katie said, handing me the bag of chips. I wasn’t hungry, but they kept putting food in front of me.

  “Look, I appreciate this, but I really want to be alone,” I said several times, but no one listened. I was promptly shushed and told to pass the ice cream.

  We’d all crammed ourselves onto my former roommate’s bed. I could admit (grudgingly) that being smooshed together with three people I knew had my back did do something for my terribly bruised and damaged heart.

  The movies and the junk food, not so much, but they were trying. The distraction kept my mind off . . . what I didn’t want to think about. At least for a little while. They couldn’t distract me forever. Eventually I would be alone and I’d have to think about what I’d done.

  Katie started playing with my hair, pulling it back and braiding it together. I remembered when Angel used to do the same thing and sing some of the lullabies in Spanish that our grandmother had taught her. She died when I was three, so my recollections of her are foggy and sparse, but at least there are photographs.

  I didn’t want to think about my family. I didn’t want to think about Will. I just wanted to think about homework and term papers and keeping my GPA high.

  When Katie was done with my hair, I leaned back on a pillow and closed my eyes, only intending to shut things out for a moment, but the next thing I knew, I was waking to the sound of voices.

  “You’re not a kid going between divorced parents, Lot,” Katie said. I kept my eyes shut and my breathing even so they wouldn’t know I was awake.

  “What am I supposed to do? She’s my friend, he’s my brother. They’re both important to me, and I’m not abandoning either one of them. I can’t. That’s non-negotiable. Trish was able to be friends with me and hang out with Stryker even though he was buddy-buddy with Zan.”

  “Yeah, but the difference is that you actually like your brother,” Trish said.

  “Whatever, we know you love Stryker.” There was a snort of derision that I assumed came from Trish.

  “She seems numb. I thought she’d be more emotional, but maybe she’s blocking it out,” Lottie said, and it was an effort to keep still.

  “As long as she doesn’t use sex as a coping mechanism like some of us,” Katie said with a sigh. “Although, that did actually work out in my favor.”

  “I don’t know. I just wish there was a way for both of them to be happy. I thought if they got together then everything would fall into place, but I can’t force them to date each other, which is unfortunate,” Lottie said, and there was a crackling sound as she rolled up the empty chip bag and shoved it in the trash. “I tried telling Will to keep fighting for her, but I’d rather see him give up and move on than keep trying to force something that isn’t going to happen. We’ll just have to wait and see. Shit, I have to get to work.”

  “And I have to get to the library,” Katie said. “You going to sta
y until she wakes up?”

  “Sure, I have nothing better to do,” Trish said. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Katie and Lottie said goodbye and left, closing the door softly. I decided it was time to wake up, so I groaned and stretched, letting my eyes open slowly.

  “Well, good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” Trish said, sitting down next to me.

  “Where did everyone go?” I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

  “Work and library. I have nothing better to do, so I’m your babysitter right now.” She gave me a wide smile.

  “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.” I moved my hand to push my hair over my shoulder and then I realized that it was still in the braid Katie had made earlier.

  “I know, but I’m really terrible with this being-friends-with-girls stuff, and Lottie and Katie have experience, blah, blah, blah. What do you say we get you out of this room? I know it’s hard right now. I remember when Ric died, all I wanted to do was live in bed forever, but Max got me up and out and it helped. Even if I hated him at the time. So come on. Get dressed in real clothes and we’ll go somewhere.” She smacked me on the knee and gave me a look that said there was no room for argument.

  I climbed off my bed and went to grab some “real” clothes. I’d put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt after my shower earlier.

  Trish turned her back as I stripped and put on a pair of dark jeans and a cream sweater.

  “Better?” I asked and she turned around.

  “You really need some more color in your wardrobe. I know you’re preparing to be a fancy lawyer and all, but you’re young. You should make bold fashion choices while you still can. Maybe Katie and I could team up and do a makeover, even though our tastes are completely different.”

  I could admit that Katie had done a great job with Lottie, and Trish had the kind of effortless, daring style that I knew I couldn’t pull off. But it might keep them (and me) busy and not thinking about things.

  “Fine. I’m sure Lottie is tired of being Katie’s human Barbie. Might as well give her a break.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Trish said, patting me on the shoulder as we walked to the parking lot where one of Stryker’s “project” cars was parked.

  “So how is Stryker enjoying his freedom?” Stryker had technically finished school last semester, but he was sticking around to be with Katie and he’d gotten a job as a teaching assistant and a part time internship with the lab on campus.

  “He’s been insufferable lately. I liked him more when he was all brooding and quiet and smoked too much. Now he’s all . . .” she waved her hand in the air, searching for the right word.

  “Happy?” I supplied.

  “Yeah. It’s unnatural. I’m not used to my brother smiling and laughing so much. Which is pretty twisted if you think about it.”

  “That is pretty twisted,” I said as she turned her car on, cursing at it a few times before it rumbled to life.

  “I thought Stryker fixed it?”

  “He did, but this car has decided to screw me over. It’s sort of a battle of wills, but I’m not going down without a fight. Do you hear that?” She yelled the last part at the dashboard.

  “So where are we going?” Trish shook her head as she pulled out of the lot and drove onto the main road in and out of campus.

  “Uh uh. I’m not telling you. It would ruin the surprise.” She started fiddling with the crackling radio, skipping to the next station before I could even figure out what song was playing.

  “I thought you said you were cheering me up. You should probably know that I don’t like surprises.” I hated them, honestly. When I was a kid, I always found my birthday and Christmas presents where my parents hid them just because I couldn’t stand not knowing what they were, and how to react to getting them.

  That never stopped Will from surprising me though . . .

  “Surprises are good for you. Get you out of your comfort zone. And I think this will be especially good for you.” She had a smirk on her face that was making very uncomfortable.

  When I’d first met Trish, I didn’t think I’d have anything in common with her, but then I found out about her family situation and that she was really sweet under the angry eye makeup and orange hair and tattoos. Plus, she had a soft spot for gooey romantic books, and she was one of those people who was always doing sweet things for others, but didn’t want anyone to know about it. And she loved her brother with a fierceness that she would deny if asked.

  I finally made her stop changing the radio stations because it was giving me a headache, but she still wouldn’t tell me where we were going. We didn’t head for the highway, so it couldn’t have been anywhere that far. But fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a tattoo shop, judging by the sign and neon lights promoting tattoos and piercings.

  “Uh, Trish?”

  “Yes, Audrey?” She turned to me with an innocent look on her face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy wearing a leather vest with nothing underneath smoking while leaning against the building.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Well, I am here to get another hole punched in my body and you’re here to hold my hand and make sure I don’t pass out.”

  “But you have a million piercings. Aren’t you used to it by now?”

  Trish grinned and opened her door.

  “You’d think, but no.”

  “Then why do you keep doing it?” I reluctantly opened my door and stepped out, but I was ready to bolt at any moment.

  Trish stopped and thought about it for a moment.

  “I have no idea.”

  I braced myself on the hood of the car as Trish just kept walking.

  “Come on, Aud. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” She went to the door and held it open for me.

  Once again, I had two options, but I was pretty sure Trish could outrun me. She might be shorter, but I was wearing heeled boots.

  “Come on, come on. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?” I sighed and stepped away from the car.

  “Fine. But I’m not getting a tattoo or piercing anything. No matter what. I mean it.” I pointed my finger at her to make my point.

  “You’re just here for moral support. Got it.” She nodded and I walked slowly into the shop. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The floor was tiled in black and white squares and it was surprisingly bright, like a doctor’s office. A girl with black and blonde hair filed her nails as she sat behind the desk right next to the door. She looked up at us as the door closed.

  “Can I help—Oh, hey Trish. What can we do for you?” Obviously, Trish had been here before, which I knew had to be true.

  “Hey Madeline. Um, I think I’m going to do my tragus. Is Magnus in?” A man poked his head from the open doorway right behind the desk.

  “Did I hear my name?” He smiled when he saw Trish and she walked behind the desk and gave him a hug.

  “And you brought a friend! You know you get ten percent off when you refer someone.” He wiggled his black eyebrows, one pierced twice. I couldn’t count the amount of other piercings that adorned his face, and his t-shirt showed sleeves of tattoos. He was quite a spectacle. I tried not to stare too much.

  “Not this one, she’s a virgin.” Trish came back over and put her arm around me.

  “Um, standing right here,” I said. Trish thought I was a virgin, based on the stories I’d told her, but that didn’t mean I wanted her telling anyone within hearing distance about my sexual history.

  “I mean a body modification virgin. Single holes in your ears don’t really count.” I reached up and touched my earlobes. My mom had gotten them done when I was a baby, so I didn’t even have any memory of it. Still, that didn’t mean I wanted a needle going through my body just for the sake of adornment.

  Magnus was still staring at me and then he cleared his throat.

  “So, what can I do for you, Trish?”

  “Tragus?” she said, po
inting to her left ear. “I want to do both, but I don’t want to do them at once.” Magnus stepped around the table as conversation from the other side of the room and the buzz of a tattoo machine distracted me for a second.

  Magnus inspected Trish’s ear and then led her into the back of the shop, where there was a room with what looked like a dentist’s chair in it, along with a case of various rings and bars for piercings. Some were so large they made me shudder.

  Trish hopped into the chair and Magnus put on a set of gloves and pulled out a metal tray, covered it with a cloth and started getting out his tools.

  “Don’t you just do it with a gun?” I asked. Magnus gave me a look as if I’d uttered a scandalous curse word.

  “Hell no. Do you know those guns can shatter your ear cartilage? Not to mention those things are completely unsanitary.” I gave Trish a look as Magnus got out a bag with a little hoop in it and disinfected it.

  Sorry I asked.

  Magnus cleaned and then marked the spot on Trish’s ear before holding a mirror up to show her. She agreed on the placement and then held her hand out. I took it and she stared up at the ceiling. Magnus put a clamp on the spot and then picked up what looked like a large sewing needle. Dear God. Was he really going to use that?

  “Okay, take a deep breath for me.” Trish did so. “And let it out,” he said as he pushed the needle through the spot.

  “Fuck!” Trish said, clenching my hand and squeezing her eyes shut.

  “And now I’m going to put the jewelry in. Another deep breath.” She winced when he put the hoop through her ear and then put a little ball in it and used pliers to close the hoop.

  “And you’re done.” Trish’s pupils were a little dilated and her hand shook in my grip. I tried to get her to let go, but she wouldn’t.

  “Trish?” I said, looking down at our joined hands. “Losing circulation.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She unclamped her hand from mine and it was like springing a bear trap. I flexed my hand a few times.

  “You okay?” Magnus said, staring into Trish’s eyes. “Sometimes she faints.” He directed that toward me.