by Tucker, RH
“Still Awkward City, huh?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I shake my head. “We didn’t talk all night, and this morning we got in an argument. I was going to ask her point-blank if she’s cheating on me, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get the words out.”
He lets out a long sigh, slapping my shoulder. “Sorry, that sucks. I will say, I still think you’re crazy.”
I continue to doodle, not bothering to reply.
Two girls walk by, leaving the gym. “Later, Taylor,” one calls out, giving him the ‘Call me tonight, because I desperately need you’ smirk.
“Later, Katie.”
“Shit,” I grumble, wagging my head before dropping it between my shoulders. “Why the hell can’t I just be like you, man?”
He lets out a loud laugh that’s part humor part apathetic. “Shut the hell up, Micah. You and I both know that’s never been you.”
“Yeah. Sucks to be me.”
He laughs again. “Dude, get the hell out of here.”
Looking behind us, I find the clock on the wall, seeing I still have a couple of hours left on my shift. “I’m not off until four.”
“Yeah, well, we’re slow. And you’re not gonna do us any good if someone comes in trying to sign up for a membership and sees you. Exercising is supposed to produce endorphins, bro. Not make you depressed.”
“Fine.”
“You’re supposed to meet up with your dad, right?”
“Yeah, I am.” I pull out my phone, a tiny piece of me hoping to find a missed call or text message, but there aren’t any new notifications. “I’ll call him, see if he wants to meet up early.”
* * *
I’m sitting in the diner, impatiently waiting for my dad to show up. We were supposed to meet up in a couple more hours for an early dinner since my mom is out with my aunt and grandmother.
Spinning the glass of water in front of me, Debbie walks by. “I can get your order started for you if you want, Micah.”
“No thanks, Deb. I don’t think I’m ordering anything.”
She frowns, then eyes the glass of water. I haven’t touched it.
“You feeling okay, hun?”
I shrug, playing with the straw in the glass. “I don’t know. This week’s been kind of shitty.”
Offering my a small smile, I nod back at her and see my father walking in.
“Hey, Micah. Thanks for bailing me out of the office.” I twist my head slightly. “We’re working on this design for Winston’s Tires, but the owner is being a huge pain. He keeps going back and forth between designs we’ve made over the last two weeks. We’ll decide on one, and then he’ll change his mind. Then he wants to add or take things off. I knew we should’ve never taken this account, but you know Billy.” He chuckles, taking a drink of his water. “Billy knows best, my ass.”
It’s a running joke we have between ourselves and Billy, one of the designers in his office. Years ago, a local landscape company wanted a design for a billboard. Dad thought there should be a cactus on the design. Billy said palm trees. When they called the landscape company, the owner decided on the palm trees. Ever since then, whenever a decision on a design, or in the case of Winston Tire’s, comes into play—Dad didn’t want to take the account, but Billy says they’re expanding and it’d be a great pickup—Billy always proudly smiles, lording it over my dad with the phrase, “Billy knows best. Billy is wise, and Billy is all-knowing.” It’s actually quite comical to see them go back and forth like brothers.
Today? Nothing.
Laughing at his joke, he stops and quirks an eyebrow at me. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” I continue to twirl the straw around. “Things are … weird.”
“Weird how? With Taylor?”
I shake my head. “Veronica.”
“What happened?”
Before I can answer, Debbie walks back over. “The usual for you, Jacob?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Debbie.”
She scribbles quickly on her pad and walks away, my father giving her a smile. Returning his gaze to me, his smile vanishes.
“Micah, what’s wrong? Are you guys pregnant?” he asks bluntly, but softly.
“What?” I gape. “No, nothing like that.”
“Oh, thank God.” He wipes imaginary sweat from his forehead. “Your mother wants grandkids, but I don’t think she wants them just yet.”
“Nice, Dad,” I retort, sounding more upset than I should.
“Did you guys get in a fight?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, gazing at my glass of water again.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“It’s like I said, it’s been weird.”
Other than Taylor, my dad is my best friend. Some people might find it weird with how open I am with him, but we’ve always been like that. Even going back to grade school. He’ll ask me something, and I’ll reply honestly.
Take the pregnancy question, for example. Other parents might have beaten around the bush with that. Made it uncomfortable or wouldn’t know how to broach the topic. But he just came right out and asked me.
I don’t talk about my sex life, but I have no problem talking about mature matters with him. “It’s felt off this last week. She’s felt off.”
“How so?”
“After she returned from Mexico I felt like we’d crossed a point in our relationship. When she got back, she stayed over. Everything about that night felt perfect. And then, the very next day, it shifted.”
“Isn’t that when Lana was over?”
I texted my dad later that day, asking him how I should’ve handled it. I thought I did everything right. Maybe I didn’t. “Yeah, but Veronica said it was fine. Lana left a couple hours later. I begged V to stay that morning, she just said it felt too weird with Lana there.”
“Have you tried talking to her?”
I let out a deep breath. “I’ve tried, I have, but … I can’t get the words out.”
“Son, you guys need to talk. You two seemed really happy the times I’ve seen you together. But if you can’t talk to one another, then that’s just going to build up a wall. This could be nothing. However, you’ll never know that unless you guys are honest with one another. Even silence can get lost in translation.”
“I can’t.”
He pauses, and I still have my eyes on the table, but I can feel his on me. After a moment longer, he finally speaks up. “Why not?”
“Because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what, son?”
“I’m afraid …” He waits patiently, but I don’t want to say these thoughts out loud. Every time I say them, it makes it feel like it’s the truth. He reaches over and grabs hold of my arm, giving it a squeeze. My voice drops lower. “I’m afraid she’s cheating on me.”
He’s quiet. He waits there, and just as it looks like he’s going to talk, Debbie walks by. “Here’s your order.”
“Thanks.” He looks over at her. “Um, do you think we could get this to go. You can bring us the check, too.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he replies with a smile.
I’m staring directly at him, but I can feel Debbie’s sympathetic gaze on me. She picks the plate back up and walks away.
“Why would you think that, Micah?” he asks.
“It’s the only thing I can think of. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“But you said she’s just acting weird. That could mean anything.”
Taylor’s words rattle in my head, telling me I’m paranoid. “I know. Taylor said the same thing. What else could have her acting like this? I don’t think I’ve done anything to push her away. And remember when I caught Lana cheating on me? I told you she was acting funny.”
“Lana’s a funny girl though. Veronica is not.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means Lana acting funny could mean she was drunk. Don’t act like you didn’t have her sleep off a couple night
s in your room back in high school.”
“You knew about that?”
“Micah.” He looks at me like he just caught me stealing cookies out of a cookie jar. I haven’t done that in years. “Of course, we knew about that.”
“We? Mom knew, too?” Again, he gives me the same expression. “Wait, but she loves Lana. Even knowing those things, and that she cheated on me, she still wants me back with her?”
“People make mistakes, Micah.”
“Oh, God.” I fall face forward onto the table. “Don’t you get on that bandwagon now.”
“It’s the truth. But we aren’t talking about Lana. I know you said she was acting weird, and I know what ended up happening. But this is Veronica. She’s the complete opposite of Lana. I’d have a hard time believing Veronica would do anything like that.”
“Then what, Dad?” My voice gets louder than I mean for it to, and I glance around the diner, but no one is paying attention.
“I don’t know, Micah,” he answers, sternly. “It could be anything. Or it could be nothing. That’s why you two need to talk. Maybe she just needs assurance from you.”
“Assurance? Dad, we’ve exchanged the I love yous. She knows how I feel. And I thought I knew how she felt.”
“Why, because you told her you loved her?”
I give him a pointed stare. “Well, yeah.”
“Micah,” he lets out a disbelieving chuckle, “telling someone you love them, and showing them are two separate things.”
I gaze at him, confused. “Uh, I hope you don’t mean …”
“No,” he chuckles. “Why would she know you love her, other than your words and your guys’ time together?”
I stare again, only this time all I can do is blink. I have no idea how to answer this question. I thought my words were enough. I mean, her words were enough for me. Or were they? If they were, would I be sitting here right now, thinking she’s cheating on me?
“I had to prove to your mom that I loved her,” he says, and suddenly gets quiet. As he’s taking another drink of his water, Debbie comes back to the table, setting down the check and his box of food before walking away. “Sometimes, you have to prove your love because of circumstances,” he says, aimlessly staring at his water. Finally looking back up, his eyes meet mine. “And sometimes, you have to prove it to each other. It sounds like you two need a serious talk with one another. Get it all out. And maybe show her you love her, instead of just telling her.”
Biting my lip, I know what he’s telling me, but I have no clue how to do that. Either of those things. I could barely get the words out this morning.
“I’m gonna pay for this and get going,” he says, getting up from the table. As he does, his keys drop to the ground. “Your mom’s going to kill me if I lose these things again. My keychain broke last week, and I lost our house key.” He chuckles, before giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Let me know how it goes, Micah.”
Continuing to look down at the spot where his keys dropped, an idea forms.
I hate it when Veronica has to wait outside of the apartment. Especially when I’m home but in the shower, and she’s waiting outside all alone. Taylor actually brought it up once, but I didn’t think much of it. Maybe if I did something like getting her a key, it’d show I’m serious. That whatever her fears are surrounding us, she doesn’t have anything to worry about.
Taking out my phone, I decide to call her. She answers, but her voice sounds timid. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound sure and confident. “What are you doing?”
“Um, not much. Helping my mom with dinner.”
“Okay, so …” Deep breaths, Micah. “I was hoping you might come over tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Her voice is almost painfully unsure. “Yeah, I guess I can.”
I wish she’d sound surer than that, but I’ll take it. “Okay, great. I’ll have your favorites, and maybe we can cook up some fettuccini alfredo.”
“Sure.” She still sounds reluctant.
“I can pick you up if you want. I work all day but get off around five.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. Cindy and I were actually going to go to the campus bookstore. Plus, I’m helping Toto with more paperwork.”
Damn. “Okay, no problem. So then I’ll see you around five?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Great.” I hope my smile doesn’t sound as fake as it feels. “Talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Uh, yeah. Love you, too.”
At least she said it. Tomorrow we’re finishing whatever this is. Come hell or high water, I’m going to talk to her. Tell her my concerns. Figure out what is going on with us. And I’ll give her a key to the place. Show her I’m serious about us. I really do want her there twenty-four-seven, so hopefully after talking and dinner, and the key, we’ll have this settled. Hopefully.
Chapter 30
Veronica
Cindy walks into my room in her usual chipper mood. “What’s up, love?”
“Hey,” I answer as I keep scrolling through my phone.
“Why did Tomás say to get you out of the house when I walked up?”
Dropping my phone, I throw my head back. “He’s paranoid. He thinks because I’ve been quiet the last couple of days that there’s something wrong. Plus, he thinks me and Micah are fighting.”
“Are you and Micah fighting?”
“No,” I answer quickly, shaking my head, but look away.
“Then what’s going on?”
“I …” Trailing off, I let out a sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?”
“Look, I know what you said, okay? I know, and I’m trying. I really am. Honestly, I thought I had some of these feelings worked out after our Ensenada trip. But they’re still there. And then with Lana seeming to wedge her way back into his life, I don’t know how long I can keep thinking he’ll stay with me when they have a history.”
“Yeah, a history of her cheating on him.”
“I know, but he went back with her once already. Why wouldn’t he do it again?”
Reaching over, she gives my leg a squeeze. “Because he’s with you, V. That’s why.”
“He thinks there’s something wrong. That I’m hiding something from him.”
“Well, you kind of are.”
“I know, but I just can’t get the words out. Because I don’t want to feel them. I don’t want to believe them. But a part of me still does. And I don’t know how long I’ll be that way. Maybe I’ll always feel not good enough.”
She sits on my bed quietly, while I stare at my phone, wishing I could feel like I did that one night in his arms. Like the world doesn’t matter. But it does matter because when we aren’t together, I’m out in the world, and I see everyone that Micah could be with. Not that he will or even that he wants to, but that he could be with. And that alone is enough to let my insecurities wash over me.
“Maybe we should take a break.”
My eyes find hers again. She doesn’t look like she wants to argue. It actually seems like she’s accepting what I’m saying. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not, but … I don’t know what else to do. I want to be with him, but I can’t fight how I feel all of the time. It’s so draining.”
“Give it until the semester starts.”
“Why?”
“Because, right now it’s just you two, all day, all of the time. Maybe when classes start again, you might not feel like this. I’m taking you over to his place later, right? I think you should talk tonight. Like, really talk. It’s gonna suck and probably be weird. But, V, you need to tell him how you feel. Because if he believes you’re hiding something, maybe he thinks you’re not really into him anymore like he is with you.”
I can’t help the scoff that escapes me. “That’d be the day. He likes me but thinks I’m the one that could do better.”
“What other reason would he have for how you’re acting? He’s probab
ly assuming that or something along those lines.”
Swinging my legs off the bed, I stare at my phone again. The wallpaper on my lock-screen is of Micah and me in bed. I took a couple selfies of us smiling, but the last one, he turned his head quickly, and I snapped the picture as he was kissing my cheek. It’s one of my favorites, but I’ve debated taking it off my phone. Because even though I love it, more and more I stare at myself as he’s kissing me. Why is he kissing me? Doesn’t he see that double chin I have there? His hand is covering my stomach. It’s on top of the shirt I’m wearing, but doesn’t he feel how flabby I am? I wish I could look at the picture how I did when I first took it, feeling the butterflies inside, but I can’t. I just stare at it, unsure.
Switching my phone off, I slip my shoes back on. “I doubt it. Anyway, let’s go.”
* * *
“This is so stupid,” Cindy laments, pulling out a book from a shelf. I’m on the other side, looking through the books, as we peruse the store. “What kind of professor assigns a book that we can’t get on Amazon? I’m already paying a fortune for my physics books.”
“Oh, hey. Cindy,” someone says behind her.
Peeking through the books, I see a gorgeous girl with light brown hair, a little curlier than mine. She easily hovers over Cindy by half a foot.
“Hey, Julie.” Cindy turns around to face the girl.
“Trying to beat the masses, too, huh?” Julie chuckles.
Cindy responds, and I’m about to go about my business, browsing another shelf, when Julie’s voice lowers.
“Hey, you know Taylor, right?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“What about his roommate, Micah?”
“Yeah, I know him. What’s up?”
Moving down a few feet, I quietly watch her look around, then lean closer to Cindy. Taking in more of her—or as much as I can between books and shelves—I see she’s on the thinner side. My first guess is that she works out, too, and the assumption is confirmed when she responds to Cindy.