The Art of Losing

by Lizzy Mason

  I handed Ryan his coffee and waved off his attempt to pay for it. “It’s on me,” I said. He didn’t need to know that I was trying to make up for not thinking about him once. For not even considering how he and his friends might have been affected by Mike’s accident. “It was really good to see you,” I added.

  “So you’re not going to come tonight?” Ryan actually looked disappointed.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I’m working closing. But I really appreciate the offer.” And I did.

  He tipped his coffee in my direction and slid a dollar into the tip jar. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

  “I hope so,” I answered honestly.

  I almost expected to see him getting into Mike’s car, his arm hanging out the passenger-side window, before I remembered that it was totaled.

  There was a voicemail on my phone when I got it out of my locker in the break room at the end of the night, but I didn’t recognize the number. I waited to listen to it until I was in my car, just in case it was something about Audrey and I needed the freedom to cry. The message, though not about Audrey, made me want to cry anyway.

  It was from Ms. Baker, Mike’s mom, telling me to call her back because she needed to ask me something. She wasn’t specific about what, and though I didn’t really want to talk about Mike, my curiosity got the better of me.

  “Hello, Harley,” she answered. “Thank you so much for returning my call.” She sounded oddly formal for a woman who had made sure to keep my preferred brand of tampons in her guest bathroom.

  “Hi, Ms. Baker,” I responded, matching her tone. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well,” she said slowly, as though she was reluctant to continue, or maybe unsure of how to start. “As you know, Mike has been in rehab for a couple of weeks now. As he comes to the end of his stay, one of the steps that he is supposed to complete is to make amends for the things he did wrong.”

  Oh God, no. My stomach plummeted.

  “Mike would really like to see you, Harley, and have the chance to talk about some things. I don’t expect your parents to come, though he’d like to apologize to them, too, but I’d love it if you could be there. There’s a family day on Saturday.”

  My mouth dropped open. Shock shifted to annoyance, then to anger. But there was a sliver of hope, too. I may have been furious with Mike, but as Ryan showed me, this was about much more than Mike himself. After going to that party with Raf and meeting real addicts, I didn’t think Mike fit the bill of an alcoholic. Not yet. But if he kept going the direction he was headed, he could become one. And I didn’t want to imagine the damage he could do along the way.

  “Harley?” Ms. Baker said from the other end of the line. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes. I’ll go. Text me the address, please.”

  I hung up before I could second-guess myself.

  By the next afternoon, I was pacing the house anxiously, as much of a wreck as I’d been waiting for news about Audrey. I’d been up all night thinking about what I could say to Mike, what he’d say to me, how to keep my shit together in front of his mom and the other people at the rehab center. I was furious with myself for agreeing to go.

  With Mom and Dad gone—first to the hospital, then to a dinner with friends—lonely hours stretched in front of me. I could only binge-watch TV shows for so long. And even though I could have gone to the coffee shop and talked to Cassidy, what I really wanted was to talk to Raf.

  By six o’clock, I’d run out of excuses. I felt as if I were about to explode, so I finally caved and texted Raf, asking him to meet me outside.

  I sat on the garden wall between my house and his, knowing that he’d see me on his way over. I heard the basement door open. Floyd trotted into the shadow of the house next door. Raf appeared and Floyd followed, his tongue lolling and tail wagging.

  “Hey,” Raf said, sitting down. He lit a cigarette and handed it to me before lighting one for himself. As I took a drag, I tried not to focus on the fact that his lips had touched the filter mere seconds before mine. It’s not like a kiss, I reminded myself. Clearly, I had spent way too much time watching movies in Audrey’s hospital room. They were turning me into a romantic.

  “Hey, yourself,” I said. I took a drag. Floyd ambled away, but I whistled to get him to come to me so I could stroke his soft ears between my fingers.

  “So . . . I’m glad you texted. It’s been a while.” Raf leaned forward to pet Floyd along with me. It was easier than looking at each other.

  “Yeah, sorry.” After I exhaled, I held the cigarette without smoking it. It wasn’t as satisfying as I’d wanted it to be. Or as appealing.

  “You’ve been busy, right?”

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. Was he being serious, or did he know I was holding back? And when did he get his hair cut? Because it looked nice.

  “Well, Audrey woke up,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. “You told me, remember?”

  “Right,” I said. “And I have a new job, working at The Flakey Pastry.”

  “You told me that, too.” He sounded impatient.

  What could I say? That I had finally allowed myself to text him so I could talk to him about going to see Mike in rehab, but that now that he was in front of me, I didn’t want to bring it up? That I didn’t want to talk about my ex-boyfriend when I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Raf?

  If Audrey were here, she could give me advice. And right now those movies were of no help. I was too unsure of my own feelings. Maybe my attraction to him was just a reaction to my anger at Mike. Maybe it was a reaction to Raf’s rejection of me when we were kids. Maybe it was the fear of putting my heart in the hands of someone else who could crush it and blame it on alcohol.

  “My mom said Audrey’s going to be moved to a rehab facility soon,” Raf said, filling the silence between us.

  I nodded.

  “How does she feel about that?”

  I took a moment before answering. “She still isn’t talking much,” I said finally. “Her memory of the last year is gone, you know, and I think it’s freaking her out.”

  “Wow. Yeah, I can imagine how that would feel. But she is talking?”

  “A little bit. Some words are still hard for her to remember. Doesn’t seem to stop her from trying, though. She just deals with the struggle. Way better than I would.”

  Raf smiled a little. “That sounds like Audrey. Jump in; worry later.”

  “Yep, that’s her,” I said. I stubbed out my half-smoked cigarette in the grass. “It’ll be interesting to see what happens when they let her start trying to walk.”

  “When will that happen?” Raf put out his cigarette and reached out to take the butt from my hand, like we’d been smoking side by side for years instead of a handful of times. He didn’t comment on how I’d wasted it.

  “This week. She’s been asking about it, apparently.”

  I regretted the “apparently” as soon as it was out of my mouth. Raf’s head tilted and he turned his body toward mine. I felt his gaze but couldn’t meet it. He waited for thirty seconds or so, maybe to see if I would keep talking. I remained quiet.

  “You haven’t been going to see her,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t an accusation, either. “Why?”

  I shrugged, trying to curl inward. To avoid his questions.

  “Why is it that you don’t seem happier that Audrey is awake?” he pushed. “You spent more time with her when she was in a coma.”

  “You sound like my mother,” I grumbled.

  “Are you denying it?”

  “No, but I find it creepy that you know where I’ve been.”

  “Stop trying to turn this back on me,” he shot back. Now he sounded irritated.

  I stared down at the grass. I was irritated myself. “Maybe it’s no
ne of your business,” I said. I could hear the bitter edge in my voice.

  He turned to face me even though I wasn’t looking at him. “Harley, seriously. What are you so mad about?”

  I drew a shaky breath, fighting to stave off angry tears. “I can’t,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s okay.” He leaned back on his hands, sitting quietly. Waiting me out.

  The longer we sat there, the more unnerving the quiet between us became. This wasn’t what I wanted things to be like. I didn’t want to keep pushing him away. I didn’t want to keep avoiding him.

  And I was so tired of keeping this secret.

  I sighed, defeated. “Fine,” I said. “But I don’t really want to talk about what I’m about to say. So just hear it and shut up. Okay?”

  “Deal,” Raf said.

  “Mike cheated on me that night of the accident. With Audrey. And she doesn’t remember it. She doesn’t remember anything that happened that night.” The words tumbled out in a rush.

  I’d been expecting to scream or vomit or run away when I’d finished. But something else happened. I actually felt a tiny bit of relief.

  Raf’s jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide. But true to his word, he didn’t speak. For once, maybe he didn’t know what to say. I knew the feeling. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. As soon as my guard was down, he spoke.

  “Does anyone else know?” he asked.

  “Just Cassidy,” I said. “I don’t want my parents to find out. I don’t want them to think about her like that. Especially not now.” I tried to swallow the lump in my burning throat.

  “Yeah, but Harley, you’ve been holding on to this for weeks now. No one knows what really happened that night, except you, and you’re carrying around this weight when she’s the one who hurt you. How is that fair?”

  “Shut up, Raf,” I said.

  “No. I’m serious.” His voice was firm. “She slept with your boyfriend. Eventually, she could remember that.”

  “She said they didn’t have sex,” I countered lamely.

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t make it okay,” he said. “Don’t you think that at least your parents deserve to know the truth about what happened that night? I know you’re worried they blame you for not driving her home. This proves that it’s not your fault.”

  “It is my fault!” I yelled at him. “I knew he was drunk, they both were, and I just left her there with him anyway.” I was breathing heavily now. I turned away, but Raf put a hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said. “You don’t have to protect him.”

  “It’s humiliating enough that he cheated on me,” I managed to say. “I don’t want more people to know about it. Not that they would be surprised. I bet everyone thought it was just a matter of time before he fell for the prettier sister.” I let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

  “Harley, that’s ridiculous,” Raf murmured. “You’re beautiful.”

  My cheeks heated, even though I instinctively dismissed his praise. The old reflex kicked in: I wondered if he thought Audrey was beautiful, too. Of course he did.

  Raf shifted beside me. I knew he wanted to say something but was afraid he’d upset me further.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I’m just wondering . . . well, are either you or Audrey talking to a therapist?”

  I looked at him sharply. “Audrey is. It’s part of her rehab. I’m not interested.” I tried to relax; he was only trying to help. My eyes fell again to the grass. “Listen, I texted you because I have to go see Mike at rehab this weekend. It’s family day or something and he wants to make amends. Or he has to, as part of his rehab. I’m not entirely clear.”

  Raf was quiet at first. “You’re going to see him?” he said after a moment.

  I could hear the anxiety in his voice, but I couldn’t tell if it was concern for me or jealousy.

  “Yeah. Do you think I’m making the wrong choice? Should I not go?”

  “I don’t know,” he said cautiously. “That’s not my call to make. But he sure as hell owes you an apology.”

  “Oh, he’s apologized,” I said. I glanced back at Raf. “But he can say he’s sorry all he wants. I’ll never forgive him.”

  Raf didn’t seem happy to hear that. We sat quietly next to each other for a few minutes, the humid air thick with smoke and our unspoken thoughts.

  “Listen, I have to get to a meeting,” Raf said, offering me a hand to pull me up. “But if you want to talk about this, I’m willing to listen. It’s important.”

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t bear to go back to the nervous quiet that had settled over the house since the accident. It was like standing on a frozen lake at the beginning of April. Any second the last thin layer was going to crack.

  “Would it be weird if I asked to come?” I said to Raf’s waiting hand. “Maybe it’ll help me be less nervous about going to see Mike in rehab this weekend.”

  “Uh, yeah . . . I mean, you can come,” he said. A faint smile crossed his face. He was clearly taken aback. “It’s an open meeting, but you know, it’s still anonymous and all, so just remember that part. But . . . yeah, come.”

  I questioned whether he actually wanted me there, but tried to shake it off. If he didn’t want me to come, he wouldn’t have said yes. That was a mantra I’d had to adopt with Mike after he snapped at me for asking him one too many times if he was sure he wanted me at one of his friend’s parties. So I ignored the hollow feeling in my chest that I would normally have filled with doubt and followed Raf to the car.

  When we pulled into the church parking lot, I looked at Raf, my mouth open.

  “This is where the meeting is?” I said. “I went to preschool here!”

  Raf laughed at my surprise.

  “I never knew there were AA meetings here.”

  “This church holds so many suburban secrets,” he said with a smile.

  He slowed and waved to a man in his twenties, a good-looking guy with dark skin and a small frown on his full lips. He was on his way out. Raf eyed him with concern. The guy only nodded back, not stopping his determined stride. Looked like he wouldn’t be attending.

  Several people were hanging out front, including Cajun, Dave, Arjun, Tina, and a few others I recognized from the party. Raf stopped to smoke a cigarette with them before going inside. Not only were they happy to see him, but they seemed happy to see me, too.

  “Hey there, hustler,” Dave said with a smile.

  “You liked us so much you became an alcoholic?” Cajun added, giving me a side hug that squeezed me up against his belly.

  “No, I just needed to feel better about myself, so I figured I’d come hang out with you.”

  That got a half-laugh, half-groan from the group. I felt a flicker of relief that they didn’t take it as an insult. Sometimes my sarcasm didn’t come across as good-natured. Audrey had gotten her feelings hurt more times than I could count.

  After putting their cigarette butts into a bucket of sand, the group led the way through a basement door and into the fluorescent light of a hallway. It looked the same as it had when I went there as a toddler: like an elementary school, with children’s artwork lining the walls, the only difference being that the curriculum here was Jesus.

  I followed them into one of the classrooms, where a circle of folding chairs was set up. Nearly every seat was filled, with a few people lingering by the coffee machine.

  I’d been expecting something more formal, like rows of chairs lined up facing a podium and a silver carafe of coffee at the back. There were more people than I’d expected, too, some older than the people I’d met, but also a girl who looked no older than fourteen. She had the pale skin and dark circles under her eyes of a new mother. Or a drug addict. Maybe both.

  When I heard Raf sigh in relief, I followed his eyes. The guy from the park
ing lot was back. He took the folding chair next to me, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. A glob of non-dairy creamer floated along the top, resisting his attempts to break it up with his plastic stirrer.

  “Hey, Nate,” Raf said, reaching over to me. Nate tapped his knuckles against Raf’s and silently returned to his coffee. Raf frowned, but before he could say anything else, an older woman with long silver hair in a low ponytail called the meeting to order. She held an old-fashioned plastic binder in her lap. Her fingers were stained yellow from nicotine. I wondered if there were any members of AA who weren’t heavy smokers.

  “Welcome to Up the Tubes,” she rasped. “I’m Elaine, and I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Hi, Elaine,” everyone murmured back.

  Now that was more like what I’d been expecting.

  “Tonight is an Open Step meeting,” she went on. “We’re happy to have you here, especially newcomers.” She glanced down at the notebook and began to read aloud. “‘Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with one another that they may solve their common problem and to help others recover from alcoholism. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.

  “‘There are no dues or fees for AA membership; we are self-supporting through our own contributions. AA is not allied with any sect, denomination, politics, organization, or institution; does not wish to engage in controversy; neither endorses nor opposes any causes. Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help other alcoholics achieve sobriety.’”

  With that, she closed the notebook.

  “Thanks Elaine,” several people murmured.

  She peered out at the group. “We are here because we admit that we are powerless over alcohol and other substances, and that our lives have become unmanageable.

  “In step two of the program, we come to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity.”

  Most in the room recited these words along with Elaine. Raf was notably silent.

  “We must make a decision to turn our will and our lives over to God and then make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. We must admit to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of those wrongs, and we must be entirely ready to have God remove all those defects of character. We make a list of all the persons we have harmed and become willing to make amends and then, guess what? We make direct amends to those people.”