“Hi,” I said. I was actually panting. He looked up from his book and smiled. He stood and hugged me, and I felt every nerve ending come alive with his touch.
“You’re back,” he said.
“I’m back. I have so much to tell you.”
“Wait—”
“I broke up with Chris. I know this isn’t the right time for you, but I’ll wait for you to be ready. I want to be with you. We should be together. But I can wait.” I couldn’t believe I was saying these things to him. Out loud. He didn’t say anything but he looked concerned, and then he saw something behind me, and his face changed.
“Macy, this isn’t a good time,” he said.
“But—”
He grabbed my elbow. “Please stop,” he said.
Just then a girl came up beside me. Long, dark red hair, a black streak down the front. She wore jewelry, lipstick, a big fashionable handbag, and expensive shoes.
“Hi,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.” She looked at me curiously.
Sebastian stood perfectly still, staring at her.
“Macy, this is Jacqueline. Jacqueline, Macy.”
Jacqueline. Beautiful French Jacqueline. The love of Sebastian’s life. Jacqueline was standing in front of me now, interrupting my love confession to the love of her life. And Sebastian was staring at her, mesmerized by her beauty, probably remembering how much he loved her. I stood there, frozen. And then I turned and ran all the way around the block to my car, the tears streaming down my face.
It felt like a large, strong hand had reached into my chest and was squeezing my heart over and over. Literally, physically. I felt the pain so thoroughly and completely, like someone was pushing a finger in deeper and deeper.
I started my car and drove. After a few blocks, I had to pull over. It wasn’t safe to drive while my body convulsed with sobs, and tears blinded me. The tears were so fast and hot, they were all over the place—on my face, my neck, the steering wheel. I let go. I cried. I wailed. I sobbed. I hurt.
Nothing I’d been through had ever felt this bad. At least, I’d never allowed myself to feel this bad. Sebastian, the person who had made me feel better than anyone else had ever been able to, had also made me feel the worst.
Finally, my sobbing slowed down, and I breathed. Every bone, every muscle in my body was spent.
I picked up my phone, hoping, praying, expecting a text from Sebastian. But there was nothing. Another wave of sobs. This is what it meant to have your heart break. Whoever came up with that saying was good. It did feel like it was breaking. Or ripping apart. A messy, jagged tear.
I started driving again. My car was bringing me to Rebecca’s house. I needed her now. Even if I didn’t tell her about Sebastian, about Scott, about Mom and Dad standing by and doing nothing, at least I could tell her more about my breakup with Chris. I could start with that. I pulled up in front of her house and went slowly up the porch steps. I knocked lightly on the door and then pushed it open. It was never locked.
“Beck?” a male voice called from inside. I walked through the hall into the TV room and there was Rebecca’s brother Charlie sitting on the couch watching TV, a beer in his hand.
“Oh, hey,” he said.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Um, this is my house? I’m home for a few days. Are you crying?”
“No,” I said, sniffling. “Where’s Beck?”
“I don’t know.”
I pulled my phone out and texted her.
“You look like you could use a beer,” he said. He went to the kitchen and pulled one out of the refrigerator. A beer would be good. It would calm my nerves while I waited for Rebecca to text me back—to let her make me laugh.
I sat down and put the bottle to my lips, taking a long gulp. It was cold and bubbly and it tasted good. Within minutes, I needed another.
“Wow,” Charlie said, going to the refrigerator again. “You’re thirsty.”
I accepted the beer he gave me.
“So,” he said. “What have you been up to this summer?”
Yes, this was good. If I couldn’t have Rebecca, I’d talk to Charlie. He’d always been such a good guy. Even after I lost my virginity to him, he’d never changed. He’d just gone back to being Rebecca’s brother.
A tear made its way out of my eye. I swiped at it.
“Did I say something wrong?” he said. “I think I used all the right grammar. What-have-you-been-up-to-this-summer? Yes. I’m pretty sure I said it right.”
I smiled.
“That’s better,” he said. “You’re not really the crying type.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Well, you know, you’re not all girlie-girlie. You’re tough. I’ve always liked that about you.”
“But now you don’t like me because I’m crying? Now I’m girlie-girlie?”
“Oh boy, yeah, I can’t say anything right. I’m gonna shut up now. I know you need my sister—I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
He started flipping channels.
I went to the kitchen to get a napkin and wiped my eyes and my nose.
“My life is falling apart,” I said, sitting back down on the couch.
He looked at me. He mimed buttoning his lips.
“You can talk,” I said. “Just don’t say anything wrong.”
“I’ll try. But your bar is sky high. Man.”
I smiled sarcastically.
“You can talk to me until Beck gets here if you want. Just think of me as her. Let it all out.” Then he batted his eyelashes and pretended to primp his hair and adjust invisible boobs. He grinned and started chanting. “Talk, talk, talk, spill, spill, spill.”
“Fine. I just broke up with my boyfriend for someone else. And I just did this whole like Graduate scene where I showed up to tell the other guy. And then his ex-girlfriend showed up, and the way he looked at her, he must be totally in love with her still. And she is beautiful, I mean stunningly gorgeous. She was wearing open-toe heels. In the middle of the day.”
He covered a laugh with his hand. “Sorry. Are you talking about shoes? I didn’t get the reference.”
I punched him in the arm.
“And my mom and I just had this huge thing that I can’t get into, and my dad is a total disappointment, and everything is falling apart.”
I felt the tears burning behind my eyes again. He was right. This wasn’t me. I didn’t cry.
Charlie patted me on the shoulder, and then he got up to get me another beer, which I drank. And the next thing I knew, I was making out with Charlie, and we were stripping each other’s clothes off as we moved to his bedroom, and I wasn’t thinking. Except about how good it felt to be wanted and to be kissed like I was someone who deserved to be kissed. Jacqueline could have Sebastian for all I cared. I could get any guy I wanted.
Charlie reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom.
“Is this okay?” he asked as he tore the wrapper.
“Is this okay?” Scott asked, as he touched me.
Scott had asked, but there’d only ever been one right answer. I never knew there was another option, another answer to the question. I’d never really had a choice.
Suddenly, I couldn’t catch my breath. I sat up quickly and pushed Charlie off me. I shook my head, trying to clear the beer out of my clouded brain.
“What?” Charlie asked. “Are you going to throw up?”
“No. I need to think. Hold on.”
He sat still, staring at me. What the hell was I doing? Why was I fooling around with Charlie Maroni when I wanted to be with Sebastian? When I had just broken up with Chris?
The answer was just on the edge of my brain, like when a word is on the tip of your tongue and you can’t quite reach it.
“Macy. Are you okay?”
“Shhhh,” I said, waving my finger at him. I looked up at the ceiling and the pieces started to come together slowly.
Choices. I never had a choice with
Scott, and since then, I hadn’t even understood what it meant to have one. Fooling around with Charlie was making me feel wanted but also dirty and used. The meaningless sex I’d had with all the boys before settling down with Chris—those boys made me feel wanted, but they didn’t make me feel good. I could have been any girl to them, just like they were any guy to me. Expendable, worthless. Even with Chris, I felt like I was never pure enough for him, but him wanting me always seemed like enough. With Sebastian, though, I didn’t feel that way. With Sebastian, I was just me, totally me. And even if it didn’t work out, I knew that I’d made my own choice. I’d chosen Sebastian.
I took a deep breath, proud of myself. The power of being wanted was nothing compared to the power of choice. I could ask myself the question—is this okay? Yes or no? Either answer is fine. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You choose. I choose.
I turned to Charlie. He was still sitting there, looking confused.
“Sorry,” I said. “No, it’s not okay.”
“Shit. Did I just totally take advantage of you?”
“I knew what I was doing,” I said. “I just changed my mind.”
Then we heard the front door of the house open and the sound of footsteps.
“God, Charlie, you’re such a freakin’ slob,” Rebecca shouted from the living room. She must have seen the clothes strewn all over and the line of beer bottles on the table. And then her footsteps were coming down the hall to Charlie’s bedroom. I scrambled to find something to cover myself with, but it was too late. Rebecca opened the door and saw me sitting naked on the edge of the bed. And Charlie sitting just as naked next to me.
Her face nearly turned purple. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She stormed out.
“Rebecca, wait!” I yelled, trying to get up and pull the sheet around me, but I kept tripping.
“She on the rag or what?” Charlie said.
“It’s not funny,” I yelled at him. “She was furious before when we slept together.”
“She was?”
“She didn’t speak to me for days. Oh, of course you never heard anything about it. The girl gets the blame. Whatever.”
He looked sheepish. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”
I dragged the sheet with me as I picked up my clothes in the TV room and quickly got dressed. I went to Rebecca’s bedroom and knocked on the door.
“Beck,” I said. “Please let me in. I came here to see you, and we got drunk, and I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Please let me in. I need you.” My voice was shaky. I tried the door handle but it was locked.
Charlie came out of his room, dressed.
“I just totally made everything even worse. Let me work on her. I’ll straighten this out.”
I sat down on the couch with my head in my hands, listening to Charlie bang on Rebecca’s door, begging her to let him in. I was alone. No Rebecca. No Sebastian. No Chris. No Mom. No Dad.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
After Rebecca finally let Charlie into her room, I went out to the porch swing to wait and looked at my phone. Still no message from Sebastian, but two more from Mom, wondering when I’d be home so we could talk. The front door opened and Rebecca came out.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
Her eyes were red.
“You are so messed up, you know that?” she said.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“So I hear.” She sat next to me, and we started pushing the swing back and forth.
“I’m sorry about Charlie,” I said. “I was only thinking about me. Actually, I wasn’t thinking at all. There was pretty much no thought involved.”
“There were a lot of beer bottles in the TV room.”
“I knew how you felt about Charlie and me. I never should have let it happen again.”
“He told me you were upset about something. About a guy. And that he got you drunk.”
“Well, I got myself drunk,” I said. “Charlie was just being nice.”
“Nice like thoughtful? Or nice like sticking his wiener in you?”
“Come on!” I said. “And we didn’t have sex.”
“Tell me what’s going on. You never get drunk like that. In your text yesterday you said you were okay about breaking up with Chris.”
“I was. I am. It’s about Sebastian. And my mom. And …” I had to tell her. She was my best friend. If I didn’t tell her, there would always be this missing piece. “And Scott.”
“Scott?”
I nodded.
And then I told her everything. All about Scott. How it started. How it ended. And everything in between. She stared at me while I talked, her aqua-blue eyes gigantic and wet as tears trickled down her cheeks. I told her about Dad and how he saw us. I told her how Mom never mentioned it to me, not once. I told her about Sebastian, that I loved him more than I thought it was possible to love another person and how I found him at the diner with Jacqueline, and I thought my heart would combust. When I finished, she looked straight ahead.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
“I could have been there for you. You were all alone,” she said.
“No I wasn’t. I had you.”
“But I didn’t know.”
“That didn’t matter. You’ve been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Especially to a pain in the ass like me.”
“God,” she said. “This is really huge.”
“It is huge. I know that now.”
“How do you get over something like this?” she asked.
“Who knows?”
“Let’s go inside,” she said.
“I should probably go home and have it out with my mom—and my dad, if he’s on this continent. Otherwise, what’s going to change?”
“Maybe you should slow down. You have more shit right now than any person can handle.”
“I’m sorry I screwed up today,” I said.
“Forget about me. It’s dumb. I shouldn’t care if you and Charlie have a thing. Even if you wanted to date him, I shouldn’t care.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.” She smiled sheepishly. “I felt left out. He’s my closest brother; you’re my best friend.”
“I get it. It’s not happening.”
“Anyway,” she said. “Before you confront your parents we should just go inside, hang out, have a milkshake or something. Think about it. It can wait till tomorrow. You can stay with me for a night—maybe a few. Just take a break for a while.”
She put her arm around me. And suddenly, I was exhausted.
“Okay,” I said. It wasn’t even me talking. I imagined lying on Rebecca’s soft bed, and I already felt like I was asleep.
A fresh pain shot through me as the image of Sebastian taking in Jacqueline’s beauty resurfaced.
“I still haven’t heard from Sebastian,” I said.
She nodded slowly.
“I thought what we had was so real.”
I gulped back a sob as she led me back inside the house.
After we got to her room, Rebecca went to call her mom at the radio station to check in. I was spent. I had no words left, no more energy. I couldn’t wait to be still. To just lie down. I pulled down all the shades. I needed to be enveloped in darkness. How dare the sun shine on a day so dark for me? I peeked out before I let the shade fall, expecting to see ominous clouds, the threat of a storm, something so that climbing into bed in the middle of the day would seem okay. But it was blue sky, sunny, eighty degrees—taunting me, teasing me, scoffing at me for snubbing it.
I stripped down to my T-shirt and underwear and climbed into Rebecca’s unmade bed, pulling the pink flowered poufy comforter up to my chin. I stretched out my legs so far that I nearly gave myself a leg cramp.
There was a light knock on the door and then Rebecca came in.
“You don’t have to knock, it’s your room,” I said.
She came in with a steaming mug.
“Tea?”
“Well, it just seemed appropriate.”
She sat on the bed, put the mug on the side table. It actually smelled really good—a dark, woodsy smell.
“I’m kind of lost here,” she said.
“You and me both.”
“I’ve never seen you like this. I feel like I should be doing something,” she said, her eyes shy.
“This is enough. I think I just need to be here doing nothing, like you said. Like let the world stop for a minute so I can catch up and figure out what to do next. How to fix things.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be in the TV room.”
When Rebecca shut the door, I closed my eyes tight. And then I fell asleep hard. I vaguely heard movement in the rest of the house every now and then but I’d turn over and fall right back to sleep.
I felt something move. The room was almost dark now.
“Hi,” Rebecca said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Hi,” I said.
“It’s eight o’clock. You want something to eat?”
“No thanks.” I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I’d never been more tired in my entire life.
“You want to go back to sleep?” she asked.
“Yeah. You going out?”
“No, I’m staying with you,” she said.
“You don’t have to babysit me.”
She hesitated. “I just want to go pick up some dinner. We have nothing in the house.”
“Okay,” I said, just wanting to be asleep again.
“Um … Charlie’s here if you need anything.”
I smiled half-heartedly. “You have nothing to worry about,” I said. “I don’t need anything. Especially that.”
She groaned.
“Sorry. It was an exhausted attempt at humor,” I said.
“Are you okay? I feel like I should do something.”
I shook my head back and forth on the pillow, my eyes closing as she shut the door gently behind her.
I dreamed that I was in an empty room with wide shiny wood floors, high tree-trunk beams with sunlight shining through. There was no furniture in the room. I couldn’t find anywhere to sit. I turned around in a circle and finally saw a single folding chair on the far side of the room. I walked over and sat in it, and I felt as if I hadn’t sat in years and years—like I’d been standing, walking, never sitting—for years. But I knew something was still missing. And then, when I turned, Sebastian was on a folding chair next to me, and he held my hand.
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