PMU Boxset 2

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PMU Boxset 2 Page 33

by MacMillan, Jerica


  She held out a hand, palm up. “Does it really have to be over? Can’t we go back to how things were?”

  He stood, his frustration starting to bubble over. “You’re the one who ended things. How could we possibly go back?”

  It took a long time for her to answer, her eyes not meeting his, her lip caught between her teeth. When she finally spoke, her voice came out small, a pleading tone in it that he’d never heard from her before. “Please, Daniel. You—being with you, it’s the only thing that makes me forget.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Her brown eyes met his at last. “When you touch me, I can finally stop thinking about all the other crap. You get my brain to shut off and make all the bad disappear. I need that. I don’t—” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to deal without that.”

  At first, her words warmed him. He made things better for her. But as what she said replayed in his head, it sounded darker, more sinister. Like … “So I’m like a drug for you? You want to feel better, so you come to me for a hit? And now you’re addicted and can’t figure out what to do without a fix. Is that what this is?”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, her hands up, palms out. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying. You make me feel better, that’s all.”

  “I make you feel better.”

  She nodded, her expression relieved, like he finally got it. But that was the problem. He finally got it.

  “I make you forget.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You’ve been using me. To make yourself feel better. The same way most people drink or get high when life is shitty.” He ran both hands over his head, trying to catch up with everything. No wonder she hadn’t wanted a relationship. “You’ve been using me.” Just like his dad had. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before.

  “No, Daniel. That’s not how it was.”

  He speared her with his eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly how it was. You came over when you had a bad day or talked to your mom or spent all day working on stuff for your dad. You used me. Like my dad used to use me. And I thought you cared about me, just like I used to think he did. But you never wanted to be with me for me, because you liked me. You just liked that I could get you to stop thinking.” He chuckled, even though nothing about this was funny. “Most guys would probably be flattered that a chick was into him just so he could fuck her brains out.” Pause. “Too bad I’m not most guys.”

  Stepping back into the bedroom, she drew in a breath that was half gasp, half sob. The sound felt like a punch to the gut. No, a kick to the head. The same ringing, distant feeling that he’d had a week ago was back. And he was suddenly so tired. So, so tired.

  When she came back out, she had on her own clothes again, her eyes not meeting his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll go.” She took another one of those gasping, sobbing breaths. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

  And she left, the door closing behind her lending a sense of finality to the conversation. This time, he didn’t consider going after her. Didn’t want to try to convince her to stay. Accepted the hollow feeling that carved into his chest. After the agony of the last week, now he just felt numb. Nothing had been how he’d thought it was with her.

  At least now he knew.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Elena managed to get herself home, though she had no memory of the drive. She didn’t even bother to text Hannah to let her know she’d be coming home. Couldn’t think about her roommates. The only thing she could think about was holding back her tears. It took every ounce of willpower not to break down in front of Daniel and hold it all back on the ten minute drive to her house.

  She stumbled through the side door into the eat-in kitchen, blind and deaf to anything going on, and made it to her room. Closing her door, she collapsed on her bed, letting loose the sobs that had been threatening to escape for too long. She buried her face in the bed, trying to muffle the sounds that she couldn’t hold back anymore. Months of tears that had been held back, sucked in, and stuffed down came out in a wrenching torrent, her body heaving with the force of it.

  At some point, Hannah came in, probably drawn by the sounds of Elena’s distress. She hadn’t heard the door open or close, and Hannah didn’t say anything. But she lay down on the bed with Elena and wrapped her arms around her, holding her while she cried and cried. When she’d calmed somewhat, Hannah got her a glass of water.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked, handing the cool glass, water still dripping down the side from going under the running faucet.

  Elena shook her head, drinking deeply.

  Hannah watched her. “Do you want me to stay?”

  “No.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She set the empty glass on her side table. “Thank you. I’ll be okay.” She forced a smile she didn’t feel, the truth revealed by the tears that escaped again.

  But Hannah didn’t call her on it. “Okay. I’m here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, waiting until Hannah left before changing into a cami and lounge pants and climbing into bed. The tears continued to fall, soaking her pillow. The great heaving sobs had calmed, but she couldn’t stop crying. She’d stuffed it all down for so long, convinced that if she started crying she wouldn’t be able to stop. And it seemed that she’d been right.

  Elena stayed in bed all weekend. Sometimes she thought maybe she’d cried it out, and would lay staring at the ceiling, her eyes dry and gritty. But some memory would flit through her mind—an image of her dad, or something to do with Daniel—and the tears would start all over again.

  Monday was more of the same. She called her professors for her important classes. Her hoarse, scratchy voice sounded convincing enough when she left messages that she was sick and wouldn’t be in class.

  Tuesday morning dawned as bleak as the last few days, her tears welling up again as soon as she woke up. But Hannah had apparently reached her limit.

  She knocked softly on Elena’s door and let herself in without waiting for an answer. She’d been checking in, coaxing Elena to eat and drink and take a shower. Today, though, she looked determined. Elena eyed her warily, not thrilled with the idea of a determined Hannah right now.

  Hannah stood at the foot of the bed, feet planted, arms crossed, dressed in jeans and her favorite green sweater. “You need to see someone.”

  “Good morning to you, too.” Elena threw an arm across her face. “I’m tired, Hannah. Don’t you have class?”

  Nudging her leg, Hannah didn’t let Elena ignore her. “I’m skipping today. You’re more important. We have an appointment at the Student Health Center.”

  With a groan, Elena mumbled, “I’m not really sick. I don’t need to see the doctor.”

  The bed dipped with Hannah’s weight as she sat down, pulling Elena’s arm off her face. “I know that. They also have therapists. Your appointment is with a therapist.”

  “Seriously, Hannah?” She closed her eyes. “Call and cancel. I’m not going.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Chancing another look at Hannah, Elena noticed the set of her jaw and the flash in her green eyes. Stubborn Hannah was making a rare appearance. Her friend was usually pretty easygoing, but when she decided something needed to be a certain way, there was no changing her mind. Sometimes it was a good thing. Other times, not so much.

  This time fell under the second category.

  With a loud sigh, she sat up. “Fine. What time is the appointment?” There was no use arguing with Hannah like this. She could refuse to go, but Matt was still around. For all she knew, Hannah would get Matt to carry her to the car, ride with them, and carry her into the Student Health Center, kicking and screaming all the way.

  “Ten thirty. You have plenty of time to shower and eat something before we go.” Hannah rummaged in Elena’s dresser, pulling out clothes and thrusting them into Elena’s arms. “Here. Now you have clothes to wear and everything. No excuses. Shower and brush your teeth. Matt’s gettin
g breakfast burritos.”

  Something like a smile pulled at Elena’s mouth. It felt weird. Stiff. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled. “You’re feeding me hangover food?”

  Hannah shrugged, brushing her long hair out of her face. “Your head probably hurts from all that crying, and you haven’t eaten much. I figured you could use some protein, and I know you love chorizo con huevos.” Her voice softened. “If anything could get you to eat, it would be one of your favorite foods.”

  Vision blurring from another bout of tears, this time for her friend’s thoughtfulness, Elena blinked, trying and failing to hold them back. “Thanks, Han.” Her voice came out choked.

  “Of course.” Elena stood, and Hannah came over and gave her a hug. “I’m always here when you need me, even if you don’t want my help.”

  More tears dripped off her face, landing on Hannah’s sweater. Elena hugged her back with one arm, her other still clutching her clothes.

  She pulled back and wiped her face with her wrist. “I should shower.”

  “Go. Matt’ll be back by the time you’re out. And then I’ll take you to campus. We have to be there by ten fifteen to fill out paperwork, so don’t take too long in the shower.”

  A short Hispanic woman entered the waiting room, her long, black hair pulled back with one of those claw shaped clips, wearing a long sweater, jeans, and heeled clogs. She looked from Hannah to Elena before extending her hand. “Elena?”

  Elena stood, shaking the woman’s hand before offering the clipboard full of paperwork. “Hi. That’s me.”

  The woman smiled, polite but warm, taking the clipboard. “Nice to meet you. I’m Margaret.” She glanced at Hannah again, who stood.

  “Hi. I’m Hannah.” And they shook hands. Hannah looked at Elena. “I’ll just wait here, unless you want me to come in with you.”

  Elena shook her head. “No, that’s fine. Thank you.”

  Margaret smiled again. “Follow me.” She led Elena into a small room furnished with a desk in one corner, and an overstuffed chair across from a matching loveseat in the center of the room. A diffuser on top of the desk sent a soft citrus smell throughout the room. Margaret stepped in front of the chair and gestured Elena to the loveseat.

  Elena sank into the cushions, feeling surprisingly comfortable in this cozy little office while Margaret, who reminded her of her mom’s sister, her tía Susana, looked over the clipboard in her hands.

  Pulling out a spiral notebook, she gave Elena another warm smile. “Why don’t you tell me a little about why you decided to come see me?”

  Elena forced a laugh, deflection her go-to response. “My roommate woke me up this morning and told me she’d made me an appointment.”

  Margaret’s face gave nothing away. “Why do you think she did that?”

  “Probably because I’ve been in bed crying since Friday night.” She smirked.

  “Why are you smiling?” Margaret’s voice was soft, curious, nonjudgmental. “That doesn’t sound funny.”

  Elena opened her mouth, not sure what to say. She always forced a laugh or a smile, uncomfortable revealing the true depth of her emotions. Finally she shook her head. “You’re right. It’s not.”

  “Why were you in bed crying since Friday night?”

  “That’s a long story. I don’t even know where to start.”

  Margaret settled into the chair, adjusting her sweater and crossing her legs. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

  So she did, going back to the phone call in June when her mom told her that her dad had been in a horrible car crash, the days of wondering if he’d survive, the weeks and months of wondering if he’d ever be himself again. For her part, Margaret’s eyes rarely strayed from Elena, only looking away to make brief notes or grab the box of tissues when Elena started crying. Which didn’t take very long. Three days and four nights of crying was apparently not enough to get out all her tears.

  Elena got as far as feeling guilty for wanting to come back to school before Margaret stopped her. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today. Does this time work for you on a weekly basis?”

  “Yeah. Tuesdays at ten thirty work for me.”

  Margaret stood, crossing to her desk and writing in her desk calendar. “Great.” She smiled at Elena again. “I’m glad you came in. I’ll see you next week, and you can tell me the rest of your story.”

  “Okay. Um … how long do you think I’ll need to come see you?”

  With raised brows, Margaret examined her face. “That’s up to you. You’ve been through a lot since this summer, and it doesn’t seem like you’ve taken the time to process it or talk to anyone about it. So we need to work through that. Everyone’s different, though, so I can’t guess how long it’ll take. You’ll know when you’re ready to back down our schedule or stop altogether.”

  Elena nodded. “Okay. Well, thank you, then. I guess I’ll see you next week.”

  “Sounds good. It was nice to meet you, Elena.”

  “You too.”

  Margaret opened the door and let Elena out to follow the hallway back to the waiting room. Hannah stood, her face equal parts hopeful and concerned. “How’d it go?”

  “Good. Well, I mean, as good as that kind of thing can, I guess. I like her, though. She reminds me of my aunt.”

  Hannah glanced over Elena’s shoulder, even though Margaret hadn’t followed her out. “Yeah, she does kind of look like her, doesn’t she?” Glancing at her watch, Hannah smiled. “Do you want to grab some lunch? Or …?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She hadn’t spent enough time with her friend lately. It was time to change that. “Lunch sounds great. Then you can go to your afternoon classes. You don’t need to babysit me all day.”

  Hooking her arm through Elena’s, Hannah pulled her toward the door. “I don’t mind, you know. You’re more important than a day of classes. I can afford the absence.”

  Elena looked at her friend, gratefulness squeezing her chest, choking her up again. She blinked away the tears, so tired of crying by now. “Thank you, Hannah.”

  Hannah turned her head, her sincere green eyes meeting Elena’s. “You’re welcome.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Last time you mentioned that you felt guilty about wanting to come back to school in August?”

  Elena nodded, once more ensconced in the cozy loveseat in Margaret’s office. All she needed was a nice quilt, and she could stay here forever.

  “Why did you feel guilty?”

  “Because I’d been helping my mom all summer, and I couldn’t wait to get away.”

  Margaret tilted her head to the side. “That seems like a pretty normal feeling, don’t you think?” She paused, continuing when Elena didn’t answer. “I mean, suddenly having to take over your dad’s business and cooking meals for everyone so your mom could spend time in the hospital with your dad and then take him to and from all his appointments. That’s a lot of responsibility, especially when you’re taking care of a parent, who you expect to take care of you. Don’t you think anyone would want a break?”

  This time she didn’t continue, instead letting Elena think over her words. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Yeah. Especially since your father changed so much as a result of his accident. If I were living with someone who I expected to talk to me and spend time with me, and instead yelled at me and only ever wanted to watch TV, I think I’d want to get away, too, if I had the chance.”

  Elena nodded again. “That makes sense.”

  “Plus, you were always supposed to leave at the end of the summer. Did your mom expect you to quit school?”

  Shaking her head, Elena protested, “No. Of course not. My mom’s a teacher. Education is very important to her.”

  Margaret smiled. “Of course it is. So she never asked you to stay?”

  “No.”

  “And she wanted you to come back, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.” That came out as a hoarse whisper.
<
br />   Margaret nodded. “Yeah. Has your dad gotten any better?”

  Elena shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t cried as much since she’d come last week, the catharsis of telling someone all the gory details of her summer allowing her to pull herself together enough to get through her week. But now that she was back, the tears welled to the surface, and she let them, not bothering to try to fight them anymore.

  “No.” She cleared her throat. “No. I went back for Fall Break, but couldn’t make myself stay after he screamed at me for trying to talk to him. All he wants to do is watch shows on Netflix. And even though he could pause the show, he gets mad when anyone interrupts him.”

  Margaret made a sympathetic sound. “I’m sorry. That sounds difficult.” She paused, glancing at her notebook and shifting in her seat. “Is that the reason you ended up crying in bed for three days after that?”

  “Kind of. That wasn’t all of it, though.”

  “Oh?” She made a note. “What else was going on?”

  “Well, there’s this guy. Daniel.” Elena dropped her gaze to her hands, picking at a ball of fuzz near the hem of her sweater. She told Margaret a short version of the story of her and Daniel, and how she’d ended it after he’d gotten hurt, then tried to go over there again when she needed comfort. “He accused me of using him.”

  When Elena looked up, Margaret wore the same accepting, thoughtful expression as always. “Why do you think he felt that way?”

  Elena took a deep breath. “Because I was. I only saw him when I wanted to feel better. I knew he wanted more from me, and I avoided it whenever it came up.”

  “Hmm. That’s not entirely true.”

  “Yes it is.”

  Margaret shook her head. “No. You told me that you agreed to openly date him. So at some point, you weren’t just using him to feel better anymore. You cared enough about him to date him and go to his game, wearing his jersey, because you knew it was important to him.”

  Shrugging, Elena looked down again. “Or I just did what I needed to do to keep him around so I could feel better when I wanted to.”

 

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