I didn’t see Quinn at school at all this week. She’s never been overly concerned about her attendance record, so she may not have even been there. I’m actually relieved for once that I’ve had a ton of homework and had a reason to spend my lunchbreak in the library. Not that I’m able to concentrate on Trigonometric Identities when every time I have a minute to myself, all I can think about is him inside of her.
It’s Thursday and I’m walking to the school parking lot, almost successfully escaping for the day, when I hear Grant.
“Hey man, wait up,” he calls after me.
I slow down my pace, although I don’t really want to.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Didn’t see you around today,” he says.
“Yeah, I just had some stuff to take care of.”
“You have anything going on right now?”
“Uh, no. Wait, did Quinn or Sydney put you up to this?” I ask.
Grant shakes his head. “No, man, just wanted to see if you wanted to chill and maybe play a little guitar or Xbox? Syd is training today, she’s got some big gym meet coming up.”
“Sorry bro, I didn’t mean anything, I just…” I just want to continue to feel sorry for myself, like I’m the first guy to ever have his heart broken.
“Come on, whatever is bothering you, it’s nothing a little Call of Duty can’t take care of.”
Sure it will.
“Ha, I told you you were going down, punk-ass bitch,” Grant says, flinging the Xbox controller and getting up from the sofa. “You want something to drink or anything?”
I shake my head. I know he’s trying to help, but getting involved in a bromance with Grant isn’t going to make the thoughts of Quinn and Mark evaporate.
His phone rings and when he answers it with a “hey, babe,” I cringe. I don’t know if I can stomach anymore. Nothing like being subjected to listening to a conversation between the self-described soul mates to cure a broken heart.
If I were more like most guys my age, I could just go out and find a fresh piece of ass to make me feel better. Of course, if I were most guys, I never would’ve taken it so slowly with Quinn and turned her down in the first place. Maybe I deserved what I got. I rejected Quinn over and over. Somehow, the normal situation feels reversed in this case..
“No, babe, I’ll take care of it for you…okay…I love you.” He hangs up the phone and I pull my car keys out of my pocket. “Sorry about that, Sydney just needs my help with something.”
Of course she does, because she needs you. And you need her. And you have each other.
“That’s cool. Listen, I think I’m going to take off,” I say.
“Yeah, hey before you go,” he says “I don’t mean to sound like a noob, but it’s pretty freaking clear something is up with you and Quinn so if you need to talk to someone, I’m all ears.”
You want to hate guys like Grant, because he’s everything you wish you were. He’s rich, and smart and so hot that if I don’t get over Quinn, and he and Sydney don’t work out— I just might hit it. Just kidding. So when he offers to hear me out, I know that he’s genuine.
“Thanks man, we’re just going through some stuff.”
“Been there,” he says.
“I doubt it.”
“Really, Syd and I don’t have a perfect thing going. No matter what Quinn has told you.”
“Has she ever cheated on you?
“Sydney? Oh hell no, she’d never,” he says. That response is exactly why I didn’t want to talk to him about it. He cringes sympathetically and tries to backpedal. “But when I met her, Syd was already involved with someone else.”
“Really?” For some reason, I can’t picture Sydney with anyone other than Grant.
“Yeah, Quinn didn’t tell you any of this?” He looks surprised, and a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t set out to, like, steal her away from the guy.”
I nod. I believe that.
“The dude was a total prick, he really hurt her.”
I notice he’s tapping his fist against his desk while he talks about Sydney’s ex.
“I mean, physically hurt her,” he says. Like an idiot, I finally catch on.
“I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to get you on a bad subject,” I say.
“No, it’s fine. It’s just that, I didn’t even have her before I was in love with her. She was with someone else, and all I could do was watch her suffer. I hated that I couldn’t be there for her.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“So what happened with you and Quinn?” he asks.
“She cheated on me.”
His eyebrows dart up and he purses his lips. “Ouch, sorry bro.”
“Yeah, it pretty much fucking sucks.”
“So, that’s it? Did you break up with her?”
“Not exactly. I haven’t seen her since I found out.”
“You should talk to her, man. People get past that stuff every day.”
I crack my knuckles. I feel like such a douche talking about this, but what else am I supposed to do?
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Do you love her, bro?”
“More than I want to,” I admit.
“You love her? You fight for her.”
I’ve never cheated on anyone before. But I have been cheated on. My first real boyfriend, Kyle, was cheating on me with my arch-enemy, Shayna Gillan, practically the entire time we were together I knew it was going on, but I never said anything, even after we broke up. . I’d rather just tolerate it than be openly humiliated. I didn’t tell Tessa, or even Sydney. Kyle was older – a senior, and at the time, I was just a lowly sophomore and glad of the attention. The night of his senior prom, we snuck off to some a guest room at one of his friend’s houses. I was convinced that if I just gave up the V-Card, he’d only want me. How pathetically After School Special is that? It didn’t work. He broke up with me two weeks later.
The second guy I slept with was Heath Trotter. Conveniently for me, he was also Shayna Gillan’s boyfriend. What can I say, Karma’s a bitch. I saw Heath at a party one night and I just couldn’t resist getting Shayna back. His parents were out of town, so I went home with him. Afterward, he tried to keep something with me going, which was obviously not going to happen, it was all about revenge for me. I know that makes me look bad, but being as I can’t look much worse right about now, I don’t give a shit.
The third was Daniel Ihategerms. I’m surprised he was able to go through with it, being that I only had to sneeze near him for him to freak out, so I can’t imagine the horror he must have felt over the exchange of bodily fluids. Strangely enough, being with Daniel wasn’t half bad. His parents were never around, so it was easy to sneak out and stay at his overnight before sneaking back to my house in the morning. Having sex with Daniel was fun and exhilarating and I liked it. It wasn’t like with Kyle or Heath, Daniel let me be selfish, which apparently, I’m really good at.
And now there’s Mark.
I think I’m starting to understand those fruitcakes who want to believe that they can become born again virgins. The reality of being permanently stuck living down your mistakes just sucks.
“Here’s the money for my tuition,” I say to Sam. I have been carrying around the check for days, in my attempt to avoid, well, everyone.
“Surprised to see you here on a Friday night,” he says. “You gonna put in a workout while you’re here?”
“Nope, not tonight.”
From his expression, I can tell he notices how ragged I look. The bags under my eyes have gone from a light gray, to full on raccoon attack, and I’ve lost track of how many days it’s been since I’ve showered.
“Everything good?” he asks.
“Yep, just tired.”
“You look it,” he says.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, Quinny, what are you doing here?” Sydney is bounding toward me, a ninety-eight pound ball of muscle and bliss. Her long blonde ponytail dances behind her, and h
er grin reaches all the way to her eyes. “I haven’t seen you the last few days, why haven’t you been at school?” She wipes the tiny beads of sweat that have collected on her forehead and catches her breath.
“I’ve been sick,” I lie.
My mom has been more than a little irritated that I’ve stayed home all week. It totally screws with her busy afternoon of naps and watching The Young and the Restless to know that someone else is in the house. I remember in elementary school, I could be throwing up as I walked to the car in the morning, and she would be yelling at me to stop “faking” and get to school.
“Sorry to hear that,” Sydney says, perpetually polite. I try to smile at her, but I can’t extend my flexibility training to my mouth, it just won’t move. Sam finally walks away, leaving us alone. Sydney looks at me, sizing me up.
“Well, I was just dropping off a check for tuition, so I’m gonna take off.” I say trying to break away, so I can go back to my cocoon at home.
“Oh, hey, while you’re here. I don’t mean to be a pain, but is there any chance you might be able to give me a ride home?”
“Uh.” No, I don’t want to be around people, “Where’s your car?”
“I think it may have seen its last days.” Syd frowns when she says it. Not just because her car isn’t running, trust me, Sydney’s pop can afford to buy her a new one. It’s because it was her mother’s car before she was killed, and Syd has refused to drive anything else.
“If you can’t, it’s not a problem, I can call Dad. Grant was going to come and get me, but he’s with—” She stops mid-sentence and shifts her gaze to the gym mat.
“Huh? He’s with who?” I can’t imagine Grant having any dark secrets, or him being up to anything shady that she doesn’t want to tell me about. He is pretty much the most stand-up guy I’ve met in my life.
“Um, he’s with Ben.”
That is the first time I have heard his name out loud in almost a week. My face immediately gets hot and the air rushes out of me like a deflating balloon.
“Uh...why?” I can’t feel my lips. Or my feet. Come to think of it, I can’t feel much of anything aside from the pounding in my head.
“They’re just hanging out I guess.”
“Uh…why?” Am I on repeat?
“I don’t know, just playing video games and all that junk I’m not into. Quinn, are you sure you’re ok?” Sydney narrows her eyes at me.
“I wish to God people would stop asking me that!” I yell. She flinches at my tone and I immediately feel bad.
“Ok, sorry.” Sydney repositions her gym bag on her shoulder and gives me a faint smile.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” I say.
“Are you sure?” She looks nervous now that I have snapped at her. The bounce is totally gone from her pony.
“Of course Sydney, you’re my best friend. Let’s just go.”
“So, what are you up to tonight?” I ask her once we’re in the safe confines of my car.
“Not much. Grant is probably going to come over later on, but I’ve got to get up early for gym. Championships are coming up in a couple of months, you know?”
I nod. The windows are fogged over from the thick humidity and I can’t see a damn thing. I crank on the air conditioning full blast, trying to cool my burning face as much as remove the mist from the windows.
“What about you? You have any plans?” Before I can answer, she reaches for the temperature control. “Geez, Quinn, it’s freezing in here.”
I swat her hand away, “just leave it will you, jeez why are you being so annoying!” It flies out of my mouth before I can think about stopping it. She slumps against the passenger door looking injured like I’ve just physically attacked her.
“I’m sorry,” she says looking at her hands. Sydney is always apologizing, even for things she has no business apologizing for.
“Syd, look.” Her eyes are already welling up. Could I be a bigger monster? “I didn’t mean that. I’m just having a bad week.”
“Ok.”
“Seriously, I’m super sorry.”
“I wish you’d talk to me about it.” She shrugs her shoulders.
I inhale deeply. I wish I could. But where to begin? My mom’s secret alcoholism? My pesky little habit of taking prescription drugs? That I’m scared to death I’m going to turn out like my mom? That my dad is fucking Mena Lombardo? That I cheated on Ben with a twenty-four-year-old?
“I can’t.”
“Quinn, I know how it feels to have a secret. I just wish you would talk to someone, even if it isn’t me.” I think back to last year, and how hurt I was when I found out that her ex, Trevor was hitting Sydney, and that she had never told me. Not until she had to be hospitalized after she broke up with him did I find out. I couldn’t wrap my brain around how she could keep something so major from me, her best friend. Now, I finally understood.
“I just … can’t…” I say, as I pull into the driveway of her house.
“Thanks for the ride.” She starts to get out of the car and I grab her arm, startling her.
“Ben and I … were … we broke up,” I stutter. Each word burns like gasoline.
“Oh, Quinny.” She pulls me into a hug “What happened?”
I slept with my dad’s co-worker.
“I um … I screwed up. I mean, I cheated on him.” I should be crying. Any normal person with half a soul would be crying. I want to cry. I can feel the unbearable tightening in my throat that has been there since Ben left my house the day of the party. I’m trying to will the tears to fall so they might ease the pinching and burning, but they won’t. Why?
“Oh, honey, do you want to come in?” she says. Her eyes are full of undeserved sympathy.
“No, I don’t really want to be around people. No offense.”
She nods, “All right. But are you going to be okay? I mean, does Ben know? Who was it with?”
I know Syd, and that she’s asking out of actual concern and not just trying to be nosey. Still, I feel my chest ache when I think of speaking the words. But if Ben is hanging out with Grant, it’s only a matter of time before Sydney knows everything. Better to hear it from me.
“I don’t know if I’ll be okay. I just feel really shitty. Ben knows, he found out at my parents’ party after you guys had left. And it was…” I take the biggest breath of my life. “…It was with Mark, the guy who works for my dad, you met him at the party? I slept with Mark.”
Sydney, who I can count on one hand how often a curse word has been uttered from her perfect, overachieving lips looks at me, her eyebrows raised all the way up to her widows peak, and says, “Oh, shit.”
“Oh…” Quinn says as she yanks open her front door and sees me. “You aren’t Sydney.” I can’t tell if her tone is that of relief, or disappointment.
“Um, no,” I say. I shove my hands into my pockets and stare at my Converse, trying to remember how Grant convinced me that this was a good idea.
“What’s up?” she asks. She looks tired. Her eyes have dark, purple bags under them. Her perfectly pouty mouth looks dry and chapped and her long, brown hair is tucked behind her ears, but in a tangled mess. The spark that is Quinn isn’t there. Even when she is in a bad mood, she still has a fire behind her, but now, she just looks hollow.
“Could we, like, go somewhere and talk?” It takes everything in me to not pull her into my arms. She looks so exposed. So broken. No matter what she did, I just want to make her feel better.
“Um, we can go sit out back if you want, no one else is home.”
There is never anyone else home with Quinn. No wonder she doesn’t want to let anyone in and is constantly pushing them away. She’s become so used to being alone.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“You hungry or anything? I can throw something together.”
I shake my head, “I’m good, thanks though.”
I follow her inside the house and then back out through the sliding glass door that leads on to the deck.<
br />
We sat out here almost every night over the summer. We’d lay right on the deck boards, her head resting on my stomach, as we stared up at the stars and talked. I remember the last time we had done that was a few days before school started. We’d been talking about colleges and majors, and Quinn confessed that she actually had no idea what she wanted to major in, or even if she wanted to go to college. I’d told her it didn’t matter, because once we had kids, she could just stay at home with them if she wanted to. It was the first time I’d ever talked about a future with anyone. I remember the look on her face when I said that. It was conflicted, amused, and peaceful, all rolled into one expression. Everything about Quinn is so complicated.
I sit in one of the Adirondack chairs, and she slowly lowers herself on to the ottoman across from me.
“I haven’t seen you at school this week,” I say. “Are you doing all right?” Putz, stupid question– look at her face, she looks like hell.
She pulls a string from the bottom of her fraying shorts and twists it around her finger tightly.
“Yeah, I just didn’t feel like going,” she says.
I nod. I’d expected something vague.
“Do you remember the last time we were out here together?” I ask her. Her lips twitch upward like she’s thinking about smiling, but forces herself not to. She just can’t allow herself to be happy.
“I, uh…” I miss you.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says.
“I don’t have to do what?”
She pulls another string off and twists it tightly on to the same finger. Even in the dark, I can see her skin turning purple. It has to hurt, she doesn’t seem to notice.
“You didn’t have to come by and see me, I get it.”
Well, I’m sure as shit glad she gets it, because I have never been more confused in my life. I don’t really understand the hostility in her voice, either.
“I don’t know where to go from here, but I … I want to be able to move past all this,” I say.
She won’t look up, but I can still see that her tired eyes have grown wide.
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