Language of Love

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Language of Love Page 7

by Ruby Kiss


  “Uhm, honest opinion or sugar-coated optimism?” she asked.

  “That’s not a good start,” I replied with a watery smile. “Honest opinion please.”

  “Pretty screwed man.” She cast a rueful glance at the offending stationary.

  “I thought so, at least one person knows. And around here that means everyone knows.” I struggled to reign in my tears, fear was making my voice shaky enough as it was.

  “Maybe not everyone but…” Lauren trailed off, and I knew she was trying to be kind.

  “What happened to honesty?” I asked.

  “Okay, so probably a lot of people know. Now that I think about it, everyone at the bar saw him follow you out on Friday. And you guys were meeting for coffee a lot before that,” she pointed out, things I hadn’t even had a chance to think about yet. Today’s indiscretion with the text messages still rang through my head.

  “Yeah, I hadn’t even thought of that. Shit.” Blood thundered in my ears as I considered the implications of this. My heart felt like a yo-yo—just a few hours ago I was so safe wrapped in his arms, relishing being together and marveling at how just being around him made all the anxiety around our relationship disappear. Now it pounded in fear and horror, worrying about how he would react, what this would mean for me, for him—all competing for space in my overcrowded brain.

  “There’s nothing you can do about this tonight,” Lauren said, breaking through my racing thoughts with a gentle reminder. “Maybe just talk to Julian tomorrow?” It was a mark of how serious the situation was that she didn’t make a joke or imply anything when she said his name, for the first time since this whole thing had started.

  “You’re right, that’s really all I can do. How am I supposed to sleep tonight?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “Pfft, who needs sleep?” she replied. “I see lattes in our future. Let’s pack up some homework and head down to the twenty-four hour coffee place and study until we can’t see straight. It’ll distract you at least.”

  “You don’t have to stay up with me,” I said, secretly hoping she would insist on it. Being alone all night worrying was not something I wanted to do, but it felt too selfish not to at least give her the option to bow out.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I’m gonna anyway,” she replied, and I tried to cover my sigh of relief. She stood and snatched the page off the floor, crumpling it up and tossing it in the bin. “And that’s enough looking at that.” She shrugged on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her head and neck. “Let’s go caffeinate!”

  “Thank you,” I said as I stood, my sweater still on from walking home just a few minutes ago. Had it really only been a few minutes? It felt like a lifetime had passed between when I reached the door of our room and now. We shouldered our bags and headed out in search of late night coffee and distraction.

  Tuesday morning I was back sitting on the side of my bed, cell phone in my hands this time, trying to muster the courage to text Julian. Lauren and I had stayed out until we finally succumbed to exhaustion in the wee hours of the morning. She crashed out and slept for a few hours while I tossed and turned, sleeping only in fitful spurts in between cold sweat and stomach-twisting bouts of anxiety.

  Lauren had left already to head for the showers, leaving me with a hug and some friendly words of encouragement. I had typed and retyped several different messages, deleting each one before I sent it. Finally I settled on a simple, Hey, we need to talk. ASAP. I felt bad sending it like that, I knew he would worry but there was no nice way to address this and I didn’t want to drop the whole bomb over text. I stared at the wall across from me, I knew I should really get up and go shower but I couldn’t muster the energy. Bzzz Bzz. The knots that had taken up permanent residence in my stomach twisted tighter and I glanced down at the screen. Is everything ok? I’m free this morning.

  I stared for a second, weighing the options in my head. I did have a class this morning, but I could skip it. I wasn’t going to be able to concentrate anyways. Uhm, not really. Can I come now? His reply pinged back almost instantly, Of course. No more questions. I suspected he realized I didn’t want to talk about this over text.

  Having slept in my clothes from the day before, I figured I should at least take a moment and change, and was just finishing when Lauren let herself back in.

  “Hey, going somewhere?” she asked, taking in my clothes, my boots already on.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna go talk to Julian,” I replied, hoisting my purse and stuffing my phone in my pocket. She didn’t bother asking why I wasn’t going to class.

  “Probably a good idea,” she said, then looked down at her feet. A very un-Lauren-like look of sheepishness on her face.

  “What is it Laur’? Spill,” I said, “it can’t be worse than last night.”

  “Well…” she began.

  “Oh god what is it?” I cut her off before she could finish her sentence, the tone in her voice giving her away.

  “You should know, I overheard some of the other girls talking in the showers. The rumour currently going around is that you’re sleeping with Julian for a better grade,” she said in a rush, as if getting it out faster would make it less painful, like ripping off a bandaid.

  “Oh my god, you’re joking!” I yelled, for the first time since finding the note stuck to our door I wasn’t sad, or scared, or worried—I was pissed off. “That’s fucking ridiculous!”

  “I know it is,” she said, reaching her hand out to grip my elbow in consolation.

  “You know what, angry is better than sad. I have to go, I’ll talk to you later ok?” I spat out, trying not to take out my rage on Lauren. Don’t shoot the messenger and all that.

  “Okay,” she replied stepping out of my way, “take care okay?”

  “I will,” I said and headed out into the hallway. I made my way out of the building as fast as possible. Knowing what my floor mates were saying about me had me fuming, but I still didn’t want to see any of them. Lashing out at them would only confirm what they thought they knew about me, and they didn’t deserve to know the truth. That was for me and Julian to share.

  It didn’t take me long to cross the campus and make my way to the faculty housing building and Julian’s apartment. I probably should have been more careful, but it didn’t matter anymore, did it? Enough people already knew that I had become the topic of locker room gossip. I jogged up the stairs, arriving at his door, in sharp contrast to just yesterday when I dithered over my nerves, this time I raised my fist and knocked quickly on the door. It flew open.

  “Mackenzie, what happened?” Julian asked, pulling me into the apartment and his arms in one fell swoop. I had gone over in my head a million times the night before what I would say when I saw him, but every well-rehearsed line fell away when he put his arms around me and I burst into tears.

  “Oh, we fucked up Julian,” I said, in between sobs, “sorry for the F bomb.”

  Julian chuckled quietly in response and then surprised me by saying, “I think you’re right.”

  “Wait, what? How did you know?” I asked, pulling back from where I had buried my face in his chest to look up at his face.

  “I received a rather disturbing email this morning,” he began. “I imagine you experienced something far worse? Would you like to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” I said, “but believe me when I say I know what your email is about.”

  “Mhmm.” He nodded and led me over to the couch where we sat together, his arm around my shoulder holding me tight against him. His laptop sat open on the coffee table, email client open. The letter was short and to the point:

  Mr. Quinn,

  Your presence is required for a hearing with the university disciplinary committee on Thursday November 5th at 1pm, with regards to questions surrounding your recent conduct. Please respond to this email promptly.

  Regards,

  Dr. Marianne Dempsey PhD.

  Chair of the Disciplinary Committee

 
“Well shit,” I said after reading through the short letter a couple of times. I sank back against the couch—I wanted to say more, something brave like let’s break it off and save ourselves this hassle, but I couldn’t make the words come out. Just the thought of not being with him made my chest hurt in a way I couldn’t describe.

  Julian still leaned forward, face grim, his eyes still glued to the screen of his laptop. Okay, responsible decision time.

  I took a deep breath. “I guess that’s it then eh?” I said, my hands were shaking as I leaned forward to stand up and let myself out, determined to reign in my tears this time, at least until I made it out the door.

  Julian turned to face me. “What do you mean that’s it then?” he asked, peering at me as if he was searching for the answer in my eyes rather than from my voice.

  “I mean, we’re caught, we made a stupid mistake. That’s it right? We walk away, we have to. I can’t be responsible for you losing your job, I’m not even planning to stay here, I don’t know what I’m doing I’m just an idiot who fell in love with her professor and—”

  Julian cut off my frantic rambling by cupping the side of my face gently with his large hand, leaning in as close to me as he could get without actually touching me.

  “And I’m just an idiot professor in love with his student,” he said before he pressed his lips gently against mine. This kiss was different than any we had shared so far, despite the copious amount of physical contact we’d had in the last few days. Emotions and feelings poured out of both of us—I felt the truth of the words he’d just whispered to me in every movement of his mouth against mine. We broke apart, foreheads together, both of us breathing heavily, slowly. Again, it was so different from the other times we had kissed ourselves breathless.

  “Wow,” I said, unable to form any more complex words.

  “Agreed,” Julian said, appearing to suffer from the same affliction. He smiled and I couldn’t help it, I began to giggle uncontrollably. All of the anxiety and roiling emotional rollercoaster I had been experiencing over the last twenty four hours came to a head all of sudden in the form of some really inappropriate laughter.

  To my great surprise, Julian joined in, and soon we were both clutching our sides, having fallen sideways against the back of the couch, giggles slowly subsiding as we tried to catch our breath.

  “Alright,” he began, reaching towards me and brushing my hair back from my face, leaving his hand resting against the side of my jaw and neck, “don’t you worry about this.” He cocked his head towards the laptop on the table. “I’ll take care of it, and you. Okay?”

  “I want to believe that,” I said, worry swirling back into my mind, “but…”

  “Shh, we’re going to get through this together Mackenzie,” he insisted.

  “Ok, I trust you,” I replied, trying desperately to cover up my mounting anxiety. “I better go though, I’m currently skipping class and I have another one this afternoon.”

  “Maybe we should wait to see each other again though, at least until after this meeting on Thursday?” Julian suggested as I stood up.

  “You’re probably right, maybe give the rumours a chance to die down a bit too,” I agreed.

  “Dinner on Thursday then?” he said, standing as well and pulling me in for another kiss before I left.

  “Sounds good,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and relishing the feel of his body under my hands. I returned his kiss. “I’ll see you then.” I wrenched myself away and stepped out the door, closing it quietly behind me.

  Chapter 12

  By the time I had zombied my way through my afternoon class and headed back home, I was so on edge I was sure everyone around me was talking about me. Conversations seemed to stop just as I walked by, whispers followed as I walked away. I was on the edge of yet another panic attack when I slammed the door to our room behind me, and I sank down onto the edge of the bed.

  Lauren sat at the tiny corner desk, headphones on, deep in concentration with her head bent over a super thick textbook.

  “Hey you,” she said gently, pulling her headphones off.

  “Do you know I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime sitting on the edge of this bed,” I said thoughtfully. “I’m surprised there’s not a permanent sunken spot right here.”

  “I know the feeling,” Lauren said with a light laugh. “Are we gonna talk about…things? Or are we still playing the distraction game?”

  “Oh, no. No more distractions,” I replied with a heavy sigh, “he told me he’s in love with me.”

  “Really?” she squealed, voice pitching up several octaves. “Wait, why aren’t you smiling your I’m so in love grin?”

  “Because, I think he’s going to do something rash like quit his job or something and I can’t be responsible for that. When he told me how he felt it was amazing, perfect and all the sunshine and rainbow things that love songs are about. But now it’s been a few hours and all I can feel is bone crushing guilt.” I spilled out everything I had been thinking since I left Julian’s apartment that morning. Saying it out loud made it so much worse, and I sucked in a breath as tears pooled in my eyes.

  “Oh, Max.” Lauren crossed the room in two quick strides and pulled me into a hug. Unlike the frantic sobs when I discovered the note, or the cathartic tears that had spilled over when I saw Julian, this was an expression of pure, unadulterated heartbreak. I knew what I had to do, and I hated it, I didn’t want to do it, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t. I pulled my head back from her shoulder after a few moments had passed, silence broken only by the pathetic sound of my muffled sobbing, “I think I should go home Laur’.”

  “Home? Like to Ontario?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Yeah, if I just leave then we can forget this whole thing ever happened, he won’t lose his job. I won’t get kicked out if I quit first, and I can redo the credits back home at UW,” I explained, trying to maintain a level head in the midst of my misery.

  “But what about you guys?” she asked. She dropped her arms from around me in shock and stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “What us guys? You mean fantasyland where professors and students can have a working relationship and live happily ever after?” I spat out. I didn’t want her to give me hope for something I had convinced myself could never happen. I needed that certainty in order to go through with my plan. I decided to stop the conversation right there. “Will you help me pack? If I can get the essentials packed up tonight then I can swing by the registrar’s office and sign the paperwork tomorrow and be gone before his disciplinary hearing on thursday. Then hopefully he can avoid any consequences.”

  “Max…I mean, sure of course I’ll help you pack. But you can’t take all your stuff in one go, I assume you’re going to fly home?” She seemed to begrudgingly accept that I was serious, which I appreciated. I didn’t have the strength to argue.

  “No, you’re right. I’ll take all my essential stuff and whatever I can fit in my suitcase. The rest can go into boxes and I’ll either have to drive back down and get it once this all blows over or maybe I could send you shipping labels to drop them at USPS for me?” I had spent all afternoon thinking over this plan, hoping I had thought of everything.

  “Of course I’ll ship it for you, but I wouldn’t say no to you driving back for a visit. I’m gonna miss the shit out of you man.” She leaned back in for another hug as I laughed out loud.

  “Classy as always Laur’, please never change,” I said, squeezing her tight. “Alright, lets pack some boxes.”

  “You better not forget about me when you get back to Canada man, I don’t pack up just anyone’s crap you know,” she replied, pulling back once more and heading to the closet for my suitcase and some flatpack boxes we had hung on to when we moved in just a couple of months ago.

  “I don’t think it is possible for me to forget about you, everytime I see a disgusting hawaiian pizza I’ll think of you,” I said, trying to lighten the mood further. I was
so tired of crying, and I knew there was so much more waiting for me in the not-too-distant future.

  “You’re such a dick,” she replied, dragging my suitcase across the room and tossing it on the bed. “Are you sure about this?” she asked, suddenly serious again.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Can we please not spend our last night as roommates full of sad?” I implored.

  “Yeah, yeah of course. Can’t have that.” She nodded, turning away for a minute. Was I imagining it or was she wiping her eyes?

  “Thank you Lauren,” I said, trying to pour as much sincerity into the three words as I could. She sniffed for a second in response and then pulled the drawers of my little dresser open.

  “Let’s get to it then shall we? If we pack fast we can squeeze in one more round of sushi and lattes,” she said resolutely and began tossing clothes on the bed—some of them even landed in the suitcase.

  “Sounds good!” I replied brightly, forcing a smile, and started filling one of the boxes.

  I spent the next morning running around campus trying to get the paperwork sorted out to officially withdraw from the semester. As much as it sucked to give up all my hard work and my study abroad dreams, I only had to picture Julian’s face to be reminded why I was doing all of this.

  I made the choice not to tell him what I was doing, which was cruel I’m sure, but I didn’t trust myself to walk away from him again. I didn’t have the strength. And I didn’t want him to try and talk me out of it. I had convinced myself that this clean break was better—we could both move on with our lives. I had repeated this so many times to myself over the last twenty-four hours that I almost believed he wouldn’t even miss me that much. Almost.

  With the paperwork signed and handed in, I turned my attention to the next urgent matter that needed tending. My plane ticket home. Broke college students are notoriously, well, broke, so I had no choice but to call my parents and ask for their help getting a last minute ticket from JFK International to Pearson Airport in Toronto. They asked blessedly few questions—I wasn’t ready to admit to my indiscretion to them just yet—and e-transferred me the money I needed with a promise to meet me at the airport, just text them the flight time. I thanked my lucky stars—and not for the first time in my life—that I had been raised by such understanding people, but I knew they would want an explanation when I got home. I so wasn’t looking forward to that.

 

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