by Penny Wylder
She sits down next to me and starts unpacking the bags, which have a truly unfathomable amount of chocolate, ice cream, and soda. As well as face masks, some nail polish, and a DVD. “I thought about it after I left you at dinner, and I’ve kind of been sick of Taylor’s shit for a long time. And now that everything’s out in the open, I’m not going to tolerate it anymore. She knows the brand and the color of that stupid lip gloss, so she can buy her own. But she comes here every weekend asking to borrow it.” Bailey sighs. “A stupid thing to be the last straw, maybe. But it was the last straw.”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up in opposition to the pain that’s trying to shred me and it’s a relief. “Holy shit that was great. Bai, have I mentioned that I love you?”
“Not nearly enough. Here.” She passes me a pint of mint chocolate ice cream—my favorite. “Eat.”
“You understand that as a nutrition major, I really should be having a feast that’s entirely sugar?”
She gets up and opens the DVD and puts it in the player. I didn’t even see what it was. “I do realize that. But there’s different kinds of nutrition, and right now you need nutrition for a broken heart. And the recipe for that is ice cream, chocolate, and bad movies.”
“My heart isn’t broken,” I tell her. The words feel automatic, like I’m trying to convince myself as much as tell her.
One loud, boisterous laugh pops out of Bailey. “Bullshit.”
“Bailey…”
“Nope. Shut it, Juno. You don’t cry like that over someone that you don’t love. And I know you’ll try to talk yourself around it by saying you weren’t together very long or something like that, but guess what? Hearts don’t pay attention to timelines. You loved him, whether you want to admit it or not.”
I have nothing to say to that because she’s right, and that’s why it hurts. And more than just a break-up, it’s without cause or explanation. “Fuck.”
“Now eat your ice cream.”
I do, and I should learn to trust Bailey on this. Never underestimate the power of endorphins and serotonin fucking shoved into your system. Not good to rely on it, but sometimes good for the system.
The movie that Bailey bought is a trashy action film about a giant shark rising from the depths of the sea. It’s ridiculous and mindless and absolutely perfect. I manage to laugh at the burly action heroes that are trying to fight a ridiculously sized shark. And when an even bigger shark shows up halfway through the film, Bailey and I are both high on sugar and collapsing into laughter.
It’s exactly what my heart needs.
We do the face masks and paint our nails, and by the time the movie is over, I’m snuggled down in the giant nest of pillows, sleepy. Exhausted. Sad.
The credits roll on the movie. “Is it okay if I stay here for a couple of days until I can find a room?”
I can hear her eyeball even though I’m not looking at her. “Of course.”
“I don’t want to go back there, but I didn’t leave with anything.”
“Don’t worry about it, Juno. I’ll go get stuff for you tomorrow for a few days, and then we’ll figure out the way to get the rest of your stuff. You’re going to be okay.”
“All right,” I say. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad this happened on a weekend,” she says. “Small favors. You don’t have to deal with classes for tomorrow at least.”
“Yeah, that’s good.” I’m falling asleep, and so tired that I can’t fight it. “Thank you, Bai.”
“Any time, Ju.”
19
Malcolm
It’s been five days since I’ve seen Juno. Five days of utter agony and misery. She’s sent me a couple of messages, but I haven’t answered her. She hasn’t come back to the house. Bailey came to get some things for her while I wasn’t here, but that’s the only sign of her I’ve had.
And for the life of me, I wish I could decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing so I could move in one direction or another. Because I’ve felt like I’ve been ripped in two these past days.
When Taylor told me the truth about her, I’d felt like a spike had driven itself through my chest. And the only thing that I’d wanted was oblivion. I’d gone to a bar that was open during the day and stared at a glass of whiskey for hours, turning over the new information in my mind along with every facet that I knew about her, trying to make sense of everything.
The whole time I was dodging phone calls from John. I didn’t want to explain it to him. After about the twentieth call, I left the money on the bar and took the phone outside. “What.”
“Jesus. Answer your fucking phone much?”
“Did you maybe think that after twenty calls I didn’t want to talk?”
He was silent for a second. “Sorry you’ve gotten your panties in a wad, but we never agreed to a ‘don’t want to talk right now’ clause about our weekly phone calls.”
“We talked earlier.”
“No, you called me and barked questions. I’d hardly call that talking.”
I didn’t say anything to that.
“What’s going on, Mal?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna fly.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Jesus, John. Can you leave it alone?”
“No.”
I leaned against the wall of the bar. “I just found out something about someone, and it changes a lot of things, and I’m not happy about it.”
“That wasn’t vague at all,” he said sarcastically. “Care to be a touch more specific there, champ?”
I knocked my head back against the brick. “Did you just call me ‘champ?’”
“I’m going to do it again if you don’t tell me what’s happening.”
“God, you’re annoying. You know that?”
“I do.”
Sighing, I started walking down the street. Aimlessly. “It’s a girl.”
“I figured,” John said. “Presumably the one you called me freaking out about earlier. What was her name?”
“Juno.” Her name burned on my lips. Both a curse and a blessing.
“What about her?”
I swallowed. “We’ve been…seeing each other.”
“Oh my god, Mal. Is this the girl that moved into the house?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn, champ.”
Despite everything, that did manage to make me to laugh once. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Some day,” he acknowledged. “So what’s the problem.”
“That part isn’t any of your business,” I told him. “No.”
John made a non-committal sound. “Considering that you asked me if I remembered her, and you asked about the fact that she was at the party that nearly killed me? Yeah, I’m thinking that it’s my business.”
There was an alcohol store across the street, and I crossed to it, going in, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and paying for it before I said anything to John.
“You still there, Champ?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
He laughed. “You know, I can be more annoying.”
“I am well aware,” I told him. “I’ve lived with you your whole life.”
He waited for me to continue. “I was told that Juno was the one responsible for getting you to drink so much. That she dared you to do it.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised, but he didn’t sound angry.
“Really.”
“I guess it’s possible. Like I said, the whole night is a blur.”
Granite House was across the street, but I didn’t go inside. I sat on a bench across the street, glaring at it. I’d always loved that house but right then I loathed it and what it had brought me. “Everything matches up, unfortunately.”
“Okay,” he said. “And?”
“And? She didn’t tell me she was in the habit of getting people so drunk that they almost die. I’m responsible for her behavior while she lives in the house, and I won’t be with anyone who could do that to
someone for fun. Or dare them to do it for fun. It’s beyond disgusting.”
John’s voice was quiet. “You’re really angry.”
I barely held on to my voice. I wanted to scream and rage. But I didn’t want someone to call the cops right then. “I’m fucking livid, John. I thought I knew her, and I didn’t. Everything I learned about her was a lie. She wasn’t who she showed herself to be, and that is…” I gripped the phone so hard I could hear it creak. “That’s unforgivable.”
“Nothing is unforgivable,” he said quietly.
“You really believe that?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I do. Have you forgiven me for getting that drunk?”
I wanted to run away from the conversation. Change into my workout clothes and use a punching bag until I sank to the fucking floor. “I have, but if she got you to drink that much it wasn’t even your fault.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Malcom,” he said, abandoning the stupid nickname. “Even if it was a dare, I don’t remember, I was the one who did it. No one poured alcohol down my throat. That much I do know. I remember having a great time. I wanted all of it. I thought whatever it was, was a good idea. So even if it’s true, it’s not her fault. It’s mine.”
“Sorry, John,” I said. “But I just don’t see it that way. This is a girl who wants to be a nutritionist. That sees someone so wasted they’re nearly on the floor and gets them to drink more? That’s not just stupid, it’s malicious.”
He sighed. “All right. I’m not going to tell you how to feel. But just think about what I said.”
I didn’t say that I would, because I couldn’t promise that. “How are you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Good.”
We hung in silence together, because he wasn’t going to let it go, and neither was I. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said.
“Okay. See you, Mal.”
I hung up the phone and sat on that bench watching that house for I don’t know how long. Until I saw Juno walk out and leave, and I felt like I could finally take a full breath. As soon as I walked into the house, I texted all the guys in our group chat. Do me a favor and party elsewhere for the night. I had a hard thing to do, and I didn’t need an audience for it. None of them had protested or even minded. And as soon as they were gone I sat on the stairs and waited until she came home, mind spinning through everything over and over again. Each circuit made me more exhausted, and the bottle of whiskey was sitting there like freedom.
I could have taken a sip and been fine. The problems that John had, I didn’t. I made him that promise in solidarity and not because I was an alcoholic. But I could hear the disappointment in his voice when I told him that I had broken that pact. And I knew that he would forgive me.
I wouldn’t forgive myself.
And then…everything happened. I veered away from that memory, because the look on Juno’s face still haunted me. I didn’t regret the words, because they were true. But the part of me that still cared about her—that still loved her—hated that I had caused her pain.
But I couldn’t justify the forgiveness that John wanted to give. He didn’t understand the kind of betrayal that this felt like. And so I would hold on until I figured it out.
I was lying on my bed, wondering if I should try to sleep for a bit, since I hadn’t been sleeping well lately at night. It was the sound that pulled me up and off the bed before I even realized that I was moving. The sound of Juno’s door opening.
I threw open my door, and froze. It wasn’t Juno. It was Bailey. “Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”
The glare she gave me could kill someone. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your way shortly.”
“You’re getting more stuff for Juno?”
“The obvious answer to that question would be yes,” she said, tossing a suitcase on the bed and grabbing clothes from drawers.
I hate myself for asking, but I still can’t stop it. “How is she doing?”
“Is that a thing that you’re actually asking right now? How the fuck do you think she is, asshole.”
Her tone grates on me. “You don’t know the full story.”
“And neither does Juno,” she says. “Why? Because you haven’t fucking told her. You dumped her on her ass and she has no idea why. So no, Juno isn’t doing great. I’ve never seen her as happy as when she was with you, and you took that all away in one fell swoop. You’re a fucking jackass, Malcolm.”
“And she’s a liar,” I say. That’s it. Renewed anger flows from my veins. If Juno wants to know why I said what I said, let Bailey fucking tell her. I don’t care. “You want to know what happened?”
She slams the drawer shut. “Yeah. I do. And I’m glad you brought it up, because I wasn’t planning on leaving here until I got some answers.”
“Juno almost killed my brother,” I say, letting the words hang in the air.
Everything seems to go still, and Bailey stiffens. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. They went to the same high school. I guess the same one that you did, and a couple years ago at a party Juno dared my brother to drink, and she got him to drink so much that he got alcohol poisoning and nearly died. I haven’t touched alcohol since and neither has he. The promise we both made to each other after almost losing him. And I take my promises seriously.
“So yeah, I’m fucking pissed that I ever touched the woman that almost killed him.”
Bailey looks at me, blinking slowly, and her face doesn’t contain the shock or anger that I expected it to. “John is your brother?”
“I’m guessing you’ve heard the story.”
She shakes her head. “Yeah of course I have. I was just talking about it the other day. Juno didn’t have anything to do with your brother drinking. I think she threw up the first time she tasted beer and hasn’t had any since.” Bailey runs a hand across her face. “Who told you she was responsible?”
“Taylor Thomas.”
Now Bailey looks anger. “Fucking hell. Of course it was Taylor. Look, Juno didn’t make your brother drink anything. She called the ambulance that saved his life. Taylor begged her not to so that she wouldn’t get into trouble for hosting the party, and she did it anyway. Taylor has never forgiven her for it.
“She was so broken up about the fact that John was maybe hurt that she brought flowers to the hospital just to see if he was okay, even though she didn’t really know him.”
My whole body is numb, and I feel weak. “Tell me you’re lying.”
“Trust me, I’m not,” she says. “She told you about her aunt?”
“Yeah,” I say, voice rasping.
“Her aunt had just died. That was fresh. The only reason she was even at the party was she went with a pseudo-boyfriend who was a bad match and thought that getting her to a party would help.”
I huff a laugh. “I’m betting that didn’t work.”
“No. It didn’t. But if he hadn’t gotten her to that party, your brother might actually be dead. So get the fuck off your high horse and own the fact that you screwed up. Massively.”
Oh, fuck.
The guilt and regret falls onto me like those two-ton weights in the cartoons. I crouch down on the balls of my feet, unable to stand. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. Asshole.”
“I’ve got the picture, Bailey, thanks.”
I didn’t ask her anything. I automatically assumed that she was guilty. Because I was still so angry about almost losing John that I couldn’t see straight. It’s possible that I haven’t forgiven him for doing that to himself.
And I accepted it as truth from Melody’s sister. I knew what Melody was capable of, and I believed it anyway. I was so…blinded by everything. It all made sense.
“She told me that Juno loved dares. That that was the reason she came to Granite House.”
“Oh, it was a dare, but the only reason she did it was because Juno had this idea of having a kind of sisterhood, and the Tri Deltas are a good kind of club for that. From the
outside. She was scared out of her mind and it was like pulling teeth to even get her to put on the dress.”
Yet another lie.
All the pain that I’d been going through the last days was nothing compared to this. That look that I’d put in her eyes was real and completely unwarranted. I fucked up on a truly colossal scale, and I didn’t know if there was a way to come back from it.
Because I did love her. It resonated so deep that I felt it vibrating. I loved Juno Dennard, and I wanted her. I had wanted her even when I was angry. I had been furious that the universe could bring us together only so that it could tear us apart yet again.
“What do I do?” I ask Bailey. She’s Juno’s best friend, and probably a good place to start.
“I would start with an apology. A big one. Ginormous. Colossal. Huge.”
“Yeah. But I doubt that will be enough.”
She hesitates. “As much as I want to put your balls through a fucking meat grinder for hurting Juno, she was happy with you. And even though this was a fuck-up the size of Mars, it was a mistake. Juno knows what a snake that Taylor is. I can’t promise that it will be enough, but it’s worth a shot.”
She finishes packing the clothes that she came for. “Good luck, Malcolm.”
It sounds like she actually means it. As soon as she leaves, I start to think. Because I have a lot to make up for.
20
Juno
I’m eating cereal in the dining hall again. I shouldn’t be, but I’ve found myself seeking out comfort food more often than not these last few days. Focusing has been beyond my reach, and I can feel my grip slipping on everything.
My homework has been bad. I only got a passing grade on my most recent test, and I hate it. None of this was in my plans. I don’t even know who I am right now. I’m not the girl who lets a man affect her this way.
I have goals, and those goals aren’t dependent on who I’m sleeping with. I need to get my shit together and pull myself out of this funk. But every time I close my eyes, I hear Malcolm’s voice saying, You are nothing.
You are nothing.