“Are you for real? I can’t believe you just said that,” Joanie hollered at Cindy.
“It isn’t like I called her a slut, Joanie. I am just calling her out on her shit,” Cindy snapped back.
Joanie started up the stairs but I caught her arm and stopped her. The last thing anyone needed was more problems with Cindy.
Actually, I was caught off guard by Joanie’s intensity. She wasn’t the type to settle anything with violence. Whenever she was hanging out with Wilson and me, she always came across so docile and gentle.
“Joanie, let me handle this,” I demanded before she looked at me. “I don’t need you in the middle of this mess too,” I whispered, making eye contact so she knew I trusted her abilities to protect Wilson.
Joanie nodded as Wilson pushed past me and stood on the step above her.
“J, Max is right. You don’t want to be involved in this,” Wilson asserted.
“This isn’t over, Cindy,” Joanie hollered back up to her.
“Oh that’s right, Joanie—this is far from being over,” Cindy yelled as she turned around and went into her bedroom, slamming the door.
The only thing I wanted to do was make sure Wilson and Joanie got out of the Browlers’ cabin. Good or bad, it seemed to be the perfect opportunity to get Wilson to come home with me.
“I want you both to get your things and meet me at the car.”
Joanie nodded while Wilson tried to say something. I leaned down close to her and stopped her from talking.
“I’m not asking,” I whispered as I pulled away, my eyes locked on her so she knew it wasn’t negotiable.
I ran upstairs and stood in front of Cindy’s bedroom door. I took a deep breath, hoping the oxygen would slow my heart rate. I felt the familiar need to protect Wilson swell in my body. Come hell or high water, I wasn’t about to let Cindy destroy what I was just getting back.
I didn’t knock, didn’t make a sound as I went in and shut the door behind me.
I stood there for a moment watching Cindy stretched across her bed, lying on her stomach…crying. Every moment of wanting to rip her head off and tear her to shreds vanished.
What the hell is this? I don’t get it. She’s always so vindictive, and manipulative. I didn’t expect to see her crying when I came in. She either sensed someone was in the room or heard the floorboards squeak because, as I took a step toward her, she vaulted up off the bed and startled me.
“What are you doing here?” she sneered. She ran her fingers under her eyes and down her cheeks, trying to dry any evidence that she wasn’t the bitch everyone thought she was.
“I…uhh…” I struggled to answer her.
“What, can’t find the words?”
I took a breath and pushed the hair back off my forehead, trying to settle my mind. I knew exactly what words I wanted to say. This was my opportunity to tell her to leave Wilson alone; but they seemed to disappear because of her demeanor.
“Why are you crying?” I couldn’t help asking.
“I’m not crying. And if I was, it sure isn’t because of them,” she snapped as she pointed to her bedroom door. Her eyes started to fill with tears again as she plopped down on her bed.
I stood frozen as I instantly found myself feeling sorry for her. There was something really lonely about her, something I’d never seen before.
“I don’t know what caused you to hate Wilson or Joanie as much as you do…” I started.
“Puh-leeze, Max. I figure you won’t mind me calling you Max now that you’ve decided to quit Wesley,” she said with a quick, smarmy grin before her smile disappeared. She continued, “I don’t hate them. It just gets so exhausting to always be the one in control. I don’t have time to keep everything straight. I discovered a long time ago where to catalogue people like Wilson and Joanie. They are always having a dilemma or something that they decide to drag me down into. And, I’m sorry to say, the Max and Wilson dilemma is at the top of my list!” She pressed her lips together tight and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Well, then, you can appreciate what I need to tell you. I understand that you’re frustrated and hurt,” I said, making eye contact.
“Whoa, Max, I’m not hurt!” Cindy snapped. Her face twisted to disgust.
Shit, I just want to grab her by the nape of her neck and shake her until that smirk disappears from her face.
“Whatever, Cindy, I just need you to understand the situation. Wilson’s very important to me and I won’t let anything or anyone come between her and her happiness. Nobody. Do you understand?” I said low and deliberately slow. I made sure she heard every inflection of my voice.
“I get it. You don’t have to tell me twice. Wilson is your little project girl.”
“Project girl?”
“Come on, Max. I know what you have going on with her. I wasn’t born yesterday. I see guys like you all the time up here. She’ll be fun and entertaining until you get bored. Then everything will change when she doesn’t fit into the social stratum of your family,” Cindy said confidently, like she had my relationship with Wilson all figured out.
“You couldn’t be further from the truth,” I steamed.
“Wilson comes from a place you or I will never understand. It’s just the facts. She comes from a broken, needy family. Max, she will never fully understand the pressures you and I are constantly under,” Cindy said as she stood up and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her eyes, vindictive as ever, searched for mine as her lower lip drooped into a pout. I could feel her fingers begin to twist and tangle in the back of my hair and she pressed her breasts against my chest.
Is she fucking serious? What the hell is she thinking? Does she even hear the crazy shit she’s saying? How am I going to respond to her? Should I even respond? No, it isn’t even worth wasting my breath. I stretched my hands up behind my head and loosened her grip from around my neck. Her expression, convincing at first, changed to defeat as I dropped her hands, turned around, and walked out. She made me feel sick; actually, worse than that, I pitied her.
“Where are you going? You’re really going to keep up this fling you have with Wilson? You know it won’t last, she will never fit into your world,” she hollered.
I didn’t even look back. There was no way I was going to waste another minute engaging her any more than I already had. And to think I’d actually felt sorry for her.
Chapter Three
~ Wilson ~
“I’m so scared, J. I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing,” I whispered as I pulled the zipper on my suitcase. I still couldn’t help thinking about how I’d left Max broken at his house, devastated by his dad’s death and now my stupid mistake of kissing Nick.
“Wilson, Max loves you. You’re doing the right thing,” Joanie said in a low breath as she threw her round brush and makeup bag into her suitcase.
“I mean, I love him so much. But what if he can’t forgive me for what I did?”
“He has already forgiven you,” she said, focused on packing.
“But what if he finds later that he can’t?”
“But he did.”
“But what if—”
“Wilson, stop it! Don’t you see what you have? Just stop messing it up and be okay with what you have right now. Max wants you to go home with him. He wants you, home, with him,” Joanie steamed as she zipped her suitcase. I can always tell when she reaches a point of frustration with me; she tends to get short and her gestures become really exaggerated. I didn’t say another word, just finished packing.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re scared, Wilson. But Max loves you. I see it every time he looks at you. Even when he got in his car and drove away, something inside told me he wouldn’t be gone long. I mean, don’t forget this is the guy who just gave up his career to be with you,” Joanie said as she heaved her suitcase off the bed.
My throat went dry and my heart thumped in my chest. It really hadn’t hit me that Max wouldn’t be returning to Wesley; that when I went
back, he wouldn’t be my government teacher any more. I would return to his room with someone else taking his place, writing words that he was supposed to scribble across the whiteboards; words that I will inevitably have to erase. My heart sunk. It was like I’d gotten a hole in my favorite pair of shoes. Suddenly what used to be the thorn in our relationship had become the missing piece to our puzzle.
He wouldn’t be the comfort I’d look forward to in the middle of my day. I wouldn’t have the moments of stolen glances and light brushes on my skin as he walked by my desk. Even though I knew it had to be that way, I could feel myself aching for what was left behind in a blink of an eye.
“Seems strange that he won’t be at Wesley,” I said as I, too, pulled my suitcase off the bed and dropped it to the ground.
“Yeah, I guess so. At least you won’t have to deal with the pressure of getting caught,” Joanie snickered.
I nodded my head, not really understanding where my feelings of loss were coming from. I was getting what I wanted, and yet I felt a wave of sadness break over me.
“You got everything?” Joanie asked as she tugged at the handle of her rolling suitcase.
I looked around, nodding my head. “Yeah, looks that way,” I answered in a lulled tone as I shuffled toward the bedroom door.
Joanie noticed and stopped walking.
“What do you want? Tell me now. I’ll back you up, but you gotta tell me what you want.” Joanie coached as she clutched my forearms and stared into my eyes until I wiggled and dropped my sight to the floor.
I guess she could tell I was struggling. But when you ooze your struggles out of every pore in your body, people are liable to take notice.
“I don’t know, J, maybe it’s the fact that, less than several hours ago, I told Max that I kissed Nick while he buried his father. And as all of that was bouncing around in my head, you reminded me that he gave up his career for me. I really don’t want him to hate me for ruining his life. So yeah, I have just a couple of things on my mind…that’s all.”
I struggled not to lose it. I didn’t want to cry. All I wanted to do was spew out all the poison that was filling my head. And poor Joanie seemed to be the closest person who was available to work all of my crap out on.
“Oh, Wilson, stop whining about what you don’t have or what you did or didn’t do and look at the second chance you have with the most amazing guy you’ve ever met,” Joanie huffed.
I didn’t say anything. Sometimes in life things decide to show up and make changes. Today was one of those days. I grabbed the handle on my suitcase and started for the door.
“Sorry,” Joanie mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it, Joanie. I just want to get back to who I was before all this shit came down. I just want to go back to my life,” I said, feeling steamy tears starting to roll down my cheeks.
I flung the door open and huffed out of the room with my head down. Unfortunately, I didn’t see where I was going and ran into Nick. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to make sure I didn’t bounce back off of him. As I looked up at him he looked hurried and tired. Dark circles had crept under his eyes in the few hours since I last saw him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. With his hands firm and hot against my back, I inhaled his Aspen scent that once made me want him but now only made me sick to my stomach.
“Whoa, Wilson. You okay?” he asked as he leaned away from me searching for my eyes. He dragged his hands up my back and around my shoulders.
I couldn’t say anything, I was shocked that he was even here. I thought he’d left. I nodded and tried to pull away from him. He placed his hands on either side of my face.
Our eyes met and I could see how shattered I had left him. Everything that made him desirable dissolved when he looked at me. All that was left was a moment that nobody could take away from him; even if it had just been a spark of weakness on my part.
“Hey Wil, we’d better get downstairs. Nick…” I heard Joanie say from behind me as I felt her hand clutch my arm.
Nick smiled at me before acknowledging Joanie.
“Here, let me at least take your bag downstairs for you,” Nick said to me as his hand slid over mine. I pulled away and he snatched my suitcase.
I heard Max’s voice fill the hall with, “I got that.” He was marching from Cindy’s room, his face wrought with determination and a touch of disgust.
I felt every inch of my skin tingle as my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. God, please don’t let them get into a fight here. I just wanna go.
Max reached out and claimed the suitcase from Nick. They both stood across from each other, filled with testosterone. A silent moment of tension built between them, their arms stiff and widened from their sides. Both inflated their chests to make the point they were not going to be the one to yield. I couldn’t stop the trepidation from pummeling me. Guilt rippled throughout my entire body, settling right where my shoulders meet my neck. Max’s jaw tensed and his breathing sped up as they stared each other down.
“Wilson, I’ll meet you and Joanie at the car,” Max snarled. He didn’t take his eyes off Nick. It wasn’t until I didn’t move quickly enough that he turned toward me. Resentment blanketed his face and it paralyzed me. Joanie pulled on my arm, dragging me down the stairs and out the front door.
The chilling Aspen air ripped and snapped across my face, pulling me out of the trauma of watching Max and Nick exchange those death-filled stares. I was sure they were eventually going to escalate into fisticuffs.
“Wilson, the last thing we need is to be there if they explode into a fight,” Joanie lectured me. I wanted to answer her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t figure out what was stopping me from running back into the cabin and throwing myself between them. I could visualize the whole dramatic moment in my head: Max swinging at Nick, then Nick blocking his punch and grappling him to the floor. Tumbling back and forth, struggling to make fist-to-face contact, both fighting for me. Pride or fear? It would be hard to tell.
Anxiously, I licked my lips before catching them between my teeth. The freezing moisture clung to the corners of my mouth. I wished I had some Chap Stick to relieve the sting of mistakenly wetting my lips in the Aspen chill. I wished I hadn’t drunk those gallons of Bacardi before I kissed Nick. Hell, I wish I never kissed him. But like my grandpa used to say, “If wishes were fishes, we’d all have a fish fry.” Don’t ask me what it means, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is it always seems to flash in my mind when I regret making stupid choices. God, I miss my grandpa. He always seemed to have ways of making me feel better, even when what he said didn’t make sense.
“Great, how in the hell are we all going to fit into that car?” Joanie pondered as she broke through my reverie of all the sequestered memories of my grandpa. She was swaying back and forth, trying to keep herself moving so she wouldn’t freeze over. My eyes dropped to Max’s two-seater BMW Z4.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled as I paced back and forth next to the car. I knew how uncomfortable it was trying to make out in that car, so I had no idea how the three of us were going to fit. But to be truthful, I didn’t care. Max was still upstairs with Nick and I wasn’t the least bit okay with the idea that they could, at that very moment, be trying to kill each other.
I walked around to the driver’s side of the car; my breath clouded my vision, and every part of my body that protruded past my torso was hammered with below-zero temperatures. I should have known when I pulled on the door handle it was going to be locked. Great…just my luck. Max is upstairs with Nick, doing God knows what to hurt him, and I can’t keep the thought of going back in there from swirling in my head.
Chapter Four
~ Max ~
At what point am I going to either kick Nick’s ass or walk away? I had every reason to beat the shit out of him. I could feel the rage vibrating in my chest. I’d reached a point of saturation with everything that had occurred in the last couple of days. I needed him to fucking bleed, pay for taking advantage of my girlfr
iend in a moment of weakness. The muscles in my arms started to restrict, my hands began to twitch, and every message they received from my brain was pure anger. Right as I felt my body lean off kilter and I was going to either walk away or punch him, Nick took a step back away from me.
His movement was enough to break the rage that entranced me. But I still wanted to rip his face off and ask questions later.
“I’m standing here asking myself why I haven’t kicked your ass yet,” I said in a seething growl.
Nick just stood there, the unspoken words I waited to tumble from his mouth never showing up.
“You never brought her to the funeral today. You took advantage of her. She was hurting, expecting you to be a friend and instead—”
“I was her friend. I’m still her friend,” Nick spouted back.
“No you’re not. You stay the hell away from her. You hear me?” I snarled as I moved closer to him, my finger pointed straight at his chest.
“What are you gonna do? Kick my ass? Go ahead, I’d like to see you try,” Nick roared as he threw his hands in the air. “If Wilson wants me or needs me, I’ll be there for her,” he continued as he gained confidence with his words and tapped his hand flat against his chest.
Is this asshole for real? Doesn’t he see that he’s already lost? That I have the girl?
“You’re not worth it,” I spat as I seized Wilson’s suitcase and walked toward the stairs. That’s when I felt his arms catch and lock around my neck. I stumbled. Wilson’s suitcase jetted forward and fell down the stairway. I managed to thrust my elbow into Nick’s gut before he fell on top of me. His knee pressed harshly into my back. His forearm tightened around my throat and he pulled up before dropping his face next to my ear. I reached back as far as I could but couldn’t get a good grip around his neck to get him off me as we teetered on the top step of the stair case.
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