by Tucker, RH
The freeways are empty as I drive to Carlsbad, which is about an hour from Irvine. Getting her location from the app, I know where the Starbucks is she’s supposed to be waiting at.
When I first left the apartment, I was more upset than worried. But no matter how she’s been acting these last couple of months, I don’t wish any harm on her. The hour it’s taken me to get to her, while I’m still hoping everything is okay, the frustration is setting back in.
As I’m pulling into the parking lot, it’s still dark out, but there’s a small sliver of daylight breaking over the horizon. I park next to her and get out, walking over to her car. Her knees are brought up to her chest as she sits in the driver’s seat, her face between her knees.
I knock on the window lightly. Her head comes up, slowly, like she’s afraid of who’s going to be outside. Peeking over her arm, her eyes meet mine, and she comes alive.
“Micah!” She anxiously grasps at her door handles, swinging the door open so fast I almost don’t get out of the way in time. She throws her arms around me, burying her face into my neck. “Oh, thank God. Micah, thank you. Thank you.”
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I whisper to her.
She looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was … it was horrible. I didn’t think you’d get here.”
“It’s all right.” She’s holding on to me so tightly I can feel her shaking.
“Do you have a spare tire?” Glancing back at her car, she shakes her head. “What about insurance? Can we call the insurance to tow it?” She doesn’t look at me, instead keeping her eyes low, shaking her head again. “Lana, seriously?”
“It overlapped last month. I was going to see if my parents would help me with it, but then …” She pauses, and I hear a sniffle. “They kicked me out.”
“What?”
“My roommates kicked me out, so I moved back home. After the hospital … Dad said they couldn’t do it anymore.”
“Damn it, Lana.”
“Please don’t be mad at me, Micah. Please, please … I know I’m a screwup. I’ve ruined everything. I don’t know what else to do. That’s why I’m staying with Abigail.”
“Where the hell is she?”
“She took off with some guy that lives close to us.”
“Well, come on,” I pull her along toward my truck. “I’ll take you home. You’ll have to figure out how to get your car towed back though.” She stops walking. “Lana?”
“I don’t have a key.”
I can’t help it. I throw my head back, letting out a disgruntled groan. “Seriously?”
“Abi was going to make me one, but I’ve only been there a few days. I’m sorry.”
I’m so exasperated, I feel like throwing my hands into the air, and yelling out in frustration. “What the hell are we supposed to do then?”
“Can I stay at your place? Just until I can get ahold of Abi. Then she can pick me up.”
I immediately think of Veronica. There’s no way I’m asking her to leave the apartment, but I don’t know how comfortable she’ll be with Lana there, too. However, it’s not like I can just leave her out here, in the middle of nowhere.
“Yeah, I guess I have no choice.”
I don’t realize how callous the words sound until she frowns, looking away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”
She gets into the truck, and as I step into the driver’s side, I see her rubbing her arms. It’s the first time I realize what she’s wearing. Little, white shorts, and light pink halter top. It doesn’t feel cold out, but then again I’m wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a hoody.
“Here,” I say, unzipping my sweater and handing it to her.
“Thank you.”
The front seat of my truck has a large armrest that folds between the driver’s side and the passenger. After we’ve been driving on the freeway for about ten minutes, she leans over it and lays her head down over her arms, lifting her feet onto the seat. I remember her doing that in the past when we would drive back from going out to the movies. I try to shake the memory, focusing on the road in front of me.
We finally get back to the apartment, and the sun is now entirely out, shining through my windshield. I tap her shoulder. “We’re here.” She doesn’t move. “Lana, time to wake up.”
She stirs, lifting her head. She looks around the cab, then up at me with heavy eyelids. Grabbing my hand, she pulls it under her face and lays back down. Another thing she used to do. “I’m too tired.”
I wiggle my hand free, tapping her again. “Lana, get up.”
She wipes her eyes with her forearm. “Okay.”
Making our way to the apartment, I open the door and see her heading directly to my room. “Hey,” I say, lowering my voice and grabbing her hand. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to sleep, Micah. Please.”
“You can sleep here. On the couch.”
Her eyes find the sofa, then mine. “I can’t—”
“No. You can’t.”
“But your bed’s so comfortable.”
Gone is her fearful state from when I picked her up. She’s acting playful now, almost flirty. And now I’m over it again.
“I know it is.” I snap. “And my girlfriend’s sleeping in it right now.”
She jerks her head back. Her eyes find mine for only a second, as her cheeks turn red. She looks over at the couch. “Oh. Right.”
“I’ll get you a blanket. Have a seat.”
“Okay,” she replies without looking at me.
I head to my bedroom door and take a deep breath before going inside, opening the door quietly. Veronica’s asleep, snuggled under the blankets. Remembering she’s wearing the lingerie, I’d like nothing more than to just wrap my arms around her and go back to sleep. Letting out a sigh of frustration instead, I go to my closet and grab an extra blanket.
“What are you doing?” Veronica asks, sleepily watching me. “Everything go okay?”
I smile and crawl over to her. “Hey, yeah, everything’s fine.”
She smiles back and opens her arms to me. “Okay, good. I’m glad your back. I didn’t like sleeping here alone.”
“I know, baby.” I kiss her cheek. “Um, so … just to let you know, Lana’s outside.”
Her eyes pop open, and she sits up, wrapping the blankets around herself. “What?”
I cringe, showing her the blanket. “Yeah, I guess she got kicked out or something. She’s staying with a friend but doesn’t have a key to the place yet.”
“Oh.”
“She isn’t going to be here long. We’re just waiting for her to get ahold of her roommate, so she can come and pick her up.”
“Uh, should I leave?”
“No.” I lean closer, wrapping my arms around her. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you to leave. You can meet her if you want or whatever, I don’t know. But don’t leave. This is your place, Veronica. Our place. She just had nowhere else to go.”
“Yeah, but … it feels weird.”
Bringing my hands up, I cup her face. “Vero, please don’t leave. I want you here. Just let me give her these blankets, and I’ll come back in, and we’ll go to sleep.”
“I … I don’t know.”
“Please?” I press my lips to hers, hoping to calm whatever fear she’s having, but I know it’s not working. She kisses me back, but it’s a standard reply. Nothing that tells me she’s okay. Still holding her face, I wait for an answer. She finally nods with a struggling smile.
Walking back into the living room, I find Lana hunched over on the couch, her phone to her ear, whispering loudly. “No. I know, Mom, but I don’t know what else to do. No, that’s the only credit card I have. I know this is my fault, okay? I know. But if you’d just give me a little— Hello? Hello? Mom?”
Pulling her phone away, she stares at the screen. I hear her sniff, and she squeezes her phone. I’ve never seen her like this.
When
we were in school, and even after, she was always the life of the party. Her parents are both realtors, and she’s always been well off. They provided her with anything and everything. Multiple credits cards. A new car on her sixteenth birthday, and then traded that one in to get an even newer one when she graduated high school. But now she’s in shambles.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
Her head snaps to me, quickly raising a hand to her face, wiping away tears. “Hey,” she replies with a raspy tone.
“Here you go.” I hand her the blanket.
“Thank you.”
I wait there, unsure if I should say something, attempt to console her, or try and figure out why she seems to be spiraling out of control. But I also know Veronica’s waiting for me on the other side of my door and if I’m choosing anyone’s feelings over another’s, it’s Veronica’s. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”
“Yeah,” she says with an unconvinced chuckle, wiping away more tears.
I head back to my room, finding Veronica up and in jeans and a T-shirt. Shutting the door behind me, I hurry over to her. “What are you doing?”
“I’m gonna go.”
“Veronica, please. Don’t go.”
“No.” She shakes her head, rolling up the babydoll and putting it into her backpack, before zipping it up. “I think I should. I just feel too awkward.”
“Please,” I whisper to her, wrapping my arms around her. “Don’t put that on yourself. I want you here. With me.”
She wraps her arms around me. “I know, but she’s right outside. I don’t … I can’t just ignore that. It’s too weird.”
“Okay, fine. Let me take her to my parents. My mom seems to be in love with her anyways.”
“What’s that mean?”
“That’s right, I haven’t told you. I’ll tell you when I get back. Please, just let me get her out of here, and you stay. I don’t care if I have to drop her off on Jen’s front door. I will.”
She lets out a small giggle that puts me at ease, but only partly, because she shakes her head. “No, I already texted Cindy. She’s on her way.”
“What?”
“Yeah. It’s fine, Micah, really.”
“It’s not fine. You’re not the one who should be leaving. You’re not the one who should be feeling uncomfortable.”
As soon as I say that her phone chimes. “Cindy’s here.”
I let out a long sigh, bringing my forehead down against her, still holding her. “I’ll walk you out.”
When we walk out of the room, Lana’s head is on the armrest of the couch, and she looks over. She immediately sits up as she sees Veronica walking out. “Oh, hi.”
“Hi.” Veronica gives her a quick wave and heads to the door.
“I’m Lana.”
“I know.” She motions to herself before reaching the front door. “Veronica.”
“Nice to meet you,” Lana calls out.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, too,” Veronica replies as she walks out of the apartment.
I trail behind her and see Cindy in the parking lot. She seems confused but gives us both a tired, yawning wave. Walking over to the passenger side, Veronica opens the door.
“Vero, I really wish you’d stay.”
“I know,” she says, setting her bag down before turning to me. “But it’s too weird. I’m sorry.”
I lean down to her, wrapping her in a hug. I don’t know what else to say to try and keep her feelings at ease, so I go to kiss her. I want her to realize that she has nothing to worry about when it comes to Lana. But as my lips meet hers, I bring my hand up to her cheek, and she pulls away. It’s quick. Fast. As if even kissing me, outside, far away from the apartment, is still too weird for her.
She takes a seat in the car, and I shut the door behind her. “Text me later today.”
“Okay. I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she replies. Then Cindy drives away.
Walking back into the apartment, I find Lana sitting up on the couch, the blanket wrapped around her.
She turns to me as I shut the door. “So, that was her?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s cute, Micah.”
I’m on my way to my room when I stop and look at her. It’s not that she calls her cute, or even that she’s giving her a compliment. It’s the fact that she’s so flippant about it when the entire time I’ve been going out with Veronica she’s been begging me to get back with her. So I stop and look her dead in the eye. “No, she’s not cute. She’s perfect.”
She stares at me, slowly nodding, before looking away.
“Get some sleep, Lana,” I add before heading to my room and closing the door.
Chapter 24
Veronica
Cindy grumbled in between yawns as she drove us back to her house. She asked what happened, if me and Micah got in a fight, or if I was sick. I didn’t want to answer her. The knot was already starting to form in the pit of my stomach, knowing I made a mistake. Why would I leave? I genuinely don’t think anything would happen between Micah and Lana, but there’s a tiny grain of doubt. I could say that Tim cheated on me, so why wouldn’t Micah? But that isn’t it.
I left our place. As much as I stay over, that’s my room. Our room. Then Lana shows up, and I just walk out, acting like I shouldn’t be there. She’s the one who shouldn’t be there. But even the little indignation that rattles around in my mind isn’t enough to quell my insecurities.
I know Lana. We weren’t friends in high school, and I never spoke a word to her while I saw her around my first semester on campus, but I know her. She’s gorgeous. Everything I’m not. And she dated Micah. Micah loved her at one time. She obviously loved him, and in some way, shape, or form, still does. And she had him. First.
“Lana’s in the apartment,” I finally squeak out, as she pulls into her driveway.
“Excuse me?” She parks the car, turning it off.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer her, getting out of the car and walking straight to her front door.
She scurries behind me, and I hear her keys jingling in her hand. “Don’t want to talk about it? Tough shit, girl, because we are so talking about it.”
“Cindy, please.” I stare at her front door, while she stands next to me. I’m waiting for her to unlock it, but she continues to stand there, and I can feel her eyes on me. “Can you open the door please?”
“V, why did you leave? What is wrong with you? You have every right to be there right now making her feel uncomfortable, not the other way around.”
“It’s his ex-girlfriend.”
“Exactly. Ex being the main component there. I have half a mind to drag you to the car and take you back.”
“Cindy—”
“No. This is important. You can’t just run off like that. Micah loves you. You should flaunt it in front of that skank, making out with him while she watches. She’s the loser who cheated on him, and now he’s with you. If I were you—”
“But you’re not me.”
“Yes, but if I was—”
“But you’re not!” I scream, finally looking at her. It seems like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth as she sees the tears roll down my cheeks. “Okay? You’re skinny. And petite. And she’s hot and tall and thin and everything I’m not. You want me to tell you why I left? Because I can’t compete with that and I don’t care what you say, because I know Micah isn’t comparing me. I know that, okay? But that doesn’t stop my brain from knowing she’s everything I’ll never be. Oh, and the icing on the cake? She’s slept with him. How am I supposed to suppress all of that crap with her right outside of the room I’m sleeping in?”
She doesn’t say anything. I swallow the lump in my throat, clenching my eyes shut, feeling more tears fall.
By all other accounts, it is a beautiful morning. I feel the warm sunrise on my back, the summer air’s crisp, and I even hear some birds chirping in the trees in her front yard. But I st
ill want to get inside of her house, go directly to her room and throw her blankets over me, blocking out the world.
“Can you just open the door? Please?” I ask, keeping my eyes shut.
I feel her hand run over mine, giving it a squeeze. “Sure.”
* * *
There’s a slight tap on my forehead. Squeezing my eyes shut, I brush away whatever’s there, pulling my blankets up higher. I always loved Cindy’s bed. Her parents are both doctors—her mom a pediatrician and her father a cardiologist—and if I knew nothing else, I know they splurged when it came to her bed. The comforter is soft, and her pillows are like clouds. Her sheets feel so soft and silky, and are twelve-hundred thread count. I know because one night when I stayed over, she wouldn’t shut up about it.
I feel another tap, but this time it’s on my cheek. I brush my hand across my face, yawning as I do. Another tap. This one feels like something hits my eyelid.
Cracking my eyes open, I see Cindy sitting in a chair at her desk, her feet kicked up on it, crossed. She reaches into a box and then throws something at me. I shut my eyes, feeling it bounce off of my nose.
“What are you doing?” I ask, opening my eyes once again to see what she threw at me on the comforter. “Is that a Cheerio?”
“Honey nut,” she answers, reaching into the box and grabbing another one.
“Why are you throwing them at me?”
“Two reasons,” she says, throwing a piece of cereal at me again, this one hitting my hair. “One, you’ve been asleep for five hours. It’s noon, so you need to get up.”
“And the second?”
She pauses, taking a deep breath. Closing the cereal box, she looks back at me. “I get it, V. I really do. And I’m not trying to be a bitch here, but I’m still mad at you.” I pull the comforter over my face. “That is your man. You shouldn’t have left, no matter how insecure you feel. He loves you. You know he does.”
“Yeah.”
“Then?”
“I don’t know!” Bringing the blankets back down, my eyes find hers. “I wish I could explain to you exactly how this works, but I can’t. Unless you’ve lived it, then I don’t think you’ll ever get it.”