Center of Gravity

by Neve Wilder

  “I left my bag,” Alex said, his tone businesslike and cool. I’d never seen his face so stony.

  His eyes flicked back and forth between us. I thought about what he was seeing. Sean sprawled in the chair at the head of the table, me in the one adjacent, one leg kicked up on the opposite chair, our knees almost brushing. There was nothing incriminating about the moment or what was happening. It wasn’t as if we were in bed together, but I felt a senseless twinge of guilt for the history between us. Alex’s expression shifted from confusion to anger as he made his own assumptions.

  Sean glanced between me and Alex expectantly, but Alex turned on his heel before I could figure out how to make introductions.

  In the span of a second we’d landed smack in the middle of complicated. The very thing I’d been trying to avoid. Fuck.

  “Alex,” I called out after him as I pushed away from the table and stood, following him back to the entryway

  “Tom’s waiting on me.” As soon as he’d scooped up his bag, he was out the door.

  I should have chased him right then and I didn’t. Like the night he’d left me in the kitchen aching with my own want. I just let him go when I should have reacted. It was the opposite of muscle memory. Muscle inaction. I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked at the back of the door he’d just disappeared through.

  I’d always thought of myself as steady and deliberate. Now I realized I was just a defensive coward. I started to pull my shoes on, then remembered Sean and went back to the kitchen. He’d put his mug in the sink and was leaning against the counter.

  “Who was that?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and staring at me in a way that was far too curious and shrewd for my liking.

  “Alex,” I replied vaguely and gestured toward the door. “You’ve got to go. I’ve got to go.”

  It wasn’t too late. I could chase after Alex and tell him everything I’d been saving for tonight. It shouldn’t be all that hard to find the orange truck and flag it down. So what if it wasn’t according to my grand romantic plan? Summer had been right about plans. I should have been banned from making them. They always went wrong.

  Still confused, Sean moved like molasses in the winter toward the door, opened it, and then lingered in the opening. The autumn breeze swept in, lifting a sheaf of my papers on the nearby table.

  “Rob.”

  “Shut the door!” I grabbed my keys from the counter and rushed forward, but not before Winslow made his jailbreak, skittering madcap through the opening. I dashed after him, reassured that Alex would have closed the gate. But he hadn’t.

  Winslow bounded across the yard and through the open gate as if I’d been holding him hostage and starving him for months.

  “Goddammit,” I shouted, running down my stairs and twisting my bad ankle in the process because, of fucking course. “Go home!” I yelled to Sean over my shoulder as I limped through the yard and to the sidewalk. I set off in the direction I’d last seen Winslow and cursed a mile as I went. This would have to be the day he finally got out.

  Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I jogged down Primrose, Mulberry, Pataqua, and Sage, through graveled alleyways and the sedate breeze stirring the palms. I called for Winslow, stopping at points to listen for the scampering of his feet.

  After a half hour, I’d gone down all the streets in the neighborhood with no luck, talked to two neighbors who might or might not have caught sight of him, and was circling back in the direction of the house when I saw him. Or part of him; a tuft of his fur, the shadow of his body peeking out in front of a car stopped in the middle of my street.

  The girl kneeling next to him was crying and I could hear him whimpering. Bile rose in my throat as I sprinted for the car.

  The girl looked up as I dropped to a crouch next to her, her cheeks tear-streaked and her breaths quavery.

  “He’s not dead. I thought he was a squirrel, he was going so fast and—oh God. Did I kill him?”

  I realized I still had my fucking keys and phone in hand, and shoved them both into the waistband of my running shorts.

  Asphalt gouged my knee as I crouched down beside Winslow. I couldn’t see his hind end, just his head and a smear of blood. I didn’t know whether that was bad or good.

  His eyes lolled toward me, wet and wide, and he whined. Heart racing, I carefully ran my hand along his trembling side. When he yelped, I pulled back.

  “I should move the car. Should I move the car?” The girl was frantic, maybe sixteen, her eye makeup all over her face, a smattering of freckles across her nose.

  “No,” I snapped. “Be quiet for a second.” She sobbed again as I got down on my stomach and looked beneath the car. Winslow wasn’t trapped, but one hind leg was badly mangled and there was a deep gash across his belly. “Fuck,” I exhaled. I rested my forehead on the pavement, taking a deep breath to steady myself and sending up a prayer to whomever was listening that this fucking miniature dictator I’d grown far too fucking fond of wouldn’t be taken from me. Then I reached out to pull Winslow to me as gently as I could.

  His limp body dragged across the pavement, and I cradled him in my arms once I had him, crooning to him. “Okay buddy, okay. It’s okay.”

  “Can you drive?” I asked the girl as I stood again. She seemed shell-shocked, and maybe later I’d feel bad about how abrasive I was being, but I was too busy panicking. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Too bad. Get in the damn car and drive me.”

  I found an emergency vet and read the directions off my phone, Winslow warm on my lap, panting and bleeding beneath the palm I tried to keep pressed to him.

  “I’m so sorry,” the girl kept whispering as we drove.

  We arrived after what felt like a century. I kicked open the door and edged my way across the seat, careful not to jostle Winslow too much.

  “Do you want me to pay? I’ll pay!” she said, and started digging through her purse.

  I gave her an aggravated shake of my head. “You should slow down, even for a fucking squirrel.” I didn’t wait to hear her reply before racing inside.

  The willowy blonde vet inside the animal hospital took one look at Winslow and left the room to confer with her assistant before she returned and said, “I’m taking him immediately into surgery.”

  My brimming eyes spilled over and I nodded mutely.

  She laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and leveled a direct gaze upon me. “I’m going to do my best for him. Jessica will take you back to the waiting room and I’ll come out as soon as I know something. All right?”

  I nodded again and followed Jessica back out into the waiting room, dejected. I paced. I couldn’t seem to stop. There were a couple of other people waiting. A woman held a panting schnauzer with a bandage on its leg and there was a man seated with a cat in a kennel that was awfully quiet. The woman kept looking over at me as I paced. I glanced down and realized I was shirtless, streaked with blood and dirt, so I asked the receptionist for the bathroom and washed up as best I could. Then I made myself sit, but I couldn’t stop moving, bouncing my knee, fidgeting. The lady with the schnauzer gave me a sympathetic smile.

  Forty-five minutes later, Dr. Patterson opened the door and gestured me forward. My stomach dropped and my breath hitched. It was way too soon to have a surgery complete. My expression cracked again as she pulled down her surgical mask. Instead of the grim sympathy I was expecting, she gave me a small smile.

  “He’s going to make it, I believe. The gash in his stomach didn’t penetrate any organs. He will lose the hind leg, though.” Just when I’d started feeling more buoyant, I sank again.

  “Will he be able to walk and run again?” It took me a couple of tries to get through the question.

  “Of course.” She said, giving my shoulder another reassuring squeeze. “He’ll be as good as new. It’ll just take him some time to learn how to redistribute his weight and find his new center of gravity.”

  I exhaled, my hand trembling as
I wiped my eyes.

  “I’ll be another couple of hours making the repairs and stitching him up, but you’ll likely be able to take him home in a day or two after we monitor him overnight.

  I nodded, brimming with gratitude and returned to the hard plastic chair in the waiting room. Relief flooded through me and I felt as if I could breathe again. Until I remembered Alex and sat up with a start. The more I thought about it, the more the morning didn’t make sense. Why had he reacted the way he had? For all he knew, Sean might have been another professional helping me out or just a friend visiting. I dug out my phone.

  He didn’t answer until the fifth try.

  “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m not interested in talking to you right now.”

  I was taken aback, confused, but I tried to keep my voice calm. “What is it you think was happening in my kitchen this morning?”

  “I don’t know, but what I saw was you and your ex looking cozy.”

  I frowned. “How did you know that was Sean?”

  There was a long silence. “I looked through some of your emails one time. And I’m sorry for doing that, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “Christ, Alex. Well, whatever you think was happening this morning wasn’t. I don’t want to be with Sean.”

  “You know what? It doesn’t even matter. Maybe that’s part of it but—”

  “Is this about last night?” From the corner of my eye, I saw schnauzer lady’s gaze turn toward me.

  “No. Well, maybe, but that’s not all of it, either. Let me fucking finish.” His voice came rapid-fire and filled with anger. “Haven’t you noticed that everything is done on your terms? You see me when you want to see me, we fuck when and how you want to fuck, eat when and where you want to. It’s all about you. I don’t even know why I do it. I don’t even know why I like you because I know fuck all about you when you’re not around. But I do and I hate it. You don’t want to bring me into your life. Your real life. Your everyday one. I’m just a part of some vacation fantasy for you, or—or an easy way to get off.”

  “I—” I started then closed my mouth.

  “You know I’m right.” He was right. I’d divided myself in half. But the life I wanted was the one I kept going back to. He didn’t understand. I wanted to make the two halves into a whole, and I wanted him to be a part of that. And though that hadn’t been a conscious thought when I’d concocted my plan, that’s what I’d meant for tonight to be about. Showing him I wanted him in my life for the long term.

  “That’s not what I intended it to be, Alex.”

  “But it is. From the start. Everything came with boundaries. And I get it. It’s self-protective, you want to keep things simple, blah, blah, blah. But I can’t keep it simple the way you want to. My life is too fucked up right now.”

  “Alex, it can be different. I want it to be different. I was on my way after you and—”

  “It doesn’t matter. Jesus, are you listening? I realized it this morning when I saw the two of you, and when I thought back to last night, hearing to you talk about playing poker with your other friends. I don’t even know you. Not really. You were right. We’re too far apart on…everything. In every way except one. It’s not all you. It’s my fault, too. I get that.”

  “Alex,” I was growing desperate. I could hear it in my own voice. “That’s not true. Let me prove it to you. Come over tonight like we planned, okay?”

  Silence, then a sigh. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  “Alex.”

  Another shaky exhale followed, but his voice was even when he spoke again. “You don’t know. You have no idea what my—everything. I can’t take anything else, I really fucking can’t. I’m tired of taking care of everyone else’s needs. I want someone to take care of me for once. And you can’t. So don’t call me, okay? Please…just don’t. Just leave me alone.”

  “Please, Alex, you’re not thinking clear—”

  His voice went sharp again. “No, I fucking am. For once, I’m thinking as rationally as fucking possible, with my head instead of my dick. Don’t call me again.”

  I stared dumbly at the screen of the phone after he hung up on me, shell-shocked for the second time that day. I held the phone so tightly in my fist that my joints ached with the pressure and my hand shook. Goddammit. My gaze slid skyward. I waited for any other catastrophes the universe might rain down on me.

  The woman with the schnauzer leaned toward me with a box of tissues. “Sounds like you’re having a really shitty day.”

  “It’s pretty high on the list,” I muttered, accepting the box. After I blew my nose, I let my head thunk back against the wall, closed my eyes, and waited for Winslow to get out of surgery.

  24

  Alex

  “Alex!” Max caught up to me as I crossed the quad on my way to the welding studio from ceramics class. He was breathless as he whipped lightly at the sleeve of my T-shirt and fell into step beside me. “I’ve been yelling your name for like five minutes. God. Are you going for a Guinness record in power walking?”

  I slowed my steps, hitching my backpack as it started to slip off my shoulder and shrugged. “Trying to cram a couple of extra hours in on my senior project.”

  “Yeah, how’s it going?” Max pulled a pack of Twizzlers from his pocket and offered me one, which I declined with a quick shake of my head, brushing aside the thought of Cracker Jack and Rob’s smile when it rose unbidden.

  “Don’t ask.”

  Max wrinkled his nose sympathetically. “You’ll pull it off, though. There’s still two months left before semester break.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I had my doubts. I’d been stuck on my final showpiece for months now. My fault for trying to incorporate Rob into it. I’d debated removing his presence altogether, but the sculpture was supposed to be a representation of the last year and whether I wanted or not, he was a part of that. Too bad I couldn’t even think of him now without my heart going concave and sucking all the air from my chest.

  He’d been right. I thought I could handle our informal arrangement because I’d always been good at no strings attached. But I couldn’t with him. I should have just left him alone from the beginning like he’d wanted. When I saw him and Sean in the kitchen that morning, it was so painfully clear I was out of my league and that I’d just been willfully ignoring the blazing red flags that had been there all along. They stacked on top of each other one by one and crashed down on me as I’d stood in the doorway until my insides flamed with anger. At him. At myself.

  There was something so intimate about the two of them just sitting there. Not physically—I believed Rob when he’d said there was nothing going on with Sean. But I sensed an undeniable comfort and history that made the differences between Sean and Rob and Rob and me starkly black and white. Rob had been in love with this man. And what was more, he’d wanted to be, had given himself over to it, actively pursued it, nurtured it. All the glaring little holes in whatever patchwork sexual connection Rob and I had were suddenly chasms. Our relationship was nothing like that. It was one of pure convenience for him.

  They sat there with their dusky, unshaven jaws, their steady jobs and retirement plans and mortgages, and when they’d both glanced up from their fucking twin coffee mugs resting on the table, I’d never felt more like a dumb kid disturbing the busy adults.

  What did I really have to offer? I couldn’t sit there and talk investment strategies or long-term career plans. I was hanging out with oafs like Tom and dropping shots at The Tap Room while trying to figure out how to weld bits of metal together convincingly enough to make a passing grade, not throwing around casual banter with other professionals over a game of poker after a long day at the office. I was barely scraping a degree together. I lived with my fucking parents. I worked for a moving company. My father had one foot in the grave. I was a disaster waiting to happen. No wonder Rob hadn’t wanted to involve me beyond the bedroom. I was embarrassing.

  “Alex.”
I blinked at Max again. “Come with us.”

  “Where?” I’d lost track of the conversation. I keyed in the code to the welding studio while Max idled on one of the stairs leading up to the small metal door.

  “Razz? Tonight? Geez. Do you need something out of my stash? Help you concentrate?” His brows went up, expression shifting to one of concern. “I could help you with your project too, if you need?”

  I waved him off. “I’m fine. Just tired.” That was a lie. I’d been having trouble sleeping. I couldn’t concentrate. I kept replaying everything that had ever happened between Rob and me and wondering how I could have been so dumb as to have gotten attached. I couldn’t even hate him, because he’d been telling me all along and I hadn’t listened. That might have been the most frustrating part.

  I bit my lip, starting to shake my head. I didn’t feel like going out, but Max saw what was coming and gave me puppy-dog eyes. “Come on man, we haven’t hung out in weeks. Just come for an hour, scope out all the noob freshmen with me.”

  I didn’t want to scope out noob freshmen. Then my stomach flip-flopped and I had the terrifying thought that maybe Rob had ruined me forever. Because I’d liked his steadiness, his…adultness. It was so different than how I felt on a day-to-day basis. Which was exactly the reason I should go to Razz and try to get back into the swing of my normal life before Rob.

  I exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. My mom has some kind of project underway tonight, but I can meet up with y’all when we’re finished.”

  Max grinned and leaned in to brush a kiss across my cheek.

  There were a couple of other people working in the welding studio when I got inside. I lifted a hand to them as I got my gear and set up in front of the behemoth of metal I was trying to lick into some meaningful shape. I frowned listlessly at it for a good five minutes, then I flipped down my visor and fired up the torch, ready to get lost for a few hours in something besides my own thoughts. That was the good thing about welding. There wasn’t room for concentrating on anything else besides what I was doing unless I wanted to incinerate a finger. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the fucking cake?