Rush

by Minard, Tori

  “Max, go away. Please.”

  I shook my head. “I have to talk to you.”

  “No. It’s over.” She struggled with her key, the metal rattling against the doorknob.

  “It’s not over. Not for me.”

  Her chocolate eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Paige brought me my things. Thank you. Now please, just go.”

  “Why won’t you let me explain?”

  She shook her head, biting her lip. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Yes, there is. You haven’t heard my side.”

  Finally she got the door open. She held onto the knob and twisted her body to face me. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want explanations. I just want to be left alone.”

  My face crumpled. Damn it, I was going to lose it any second. Going to break down and cry right here in front of everyone on her floor.

  She eased into her room. “Good-bye, Max. Don’t come here again.”

  Her door shut in my face. I leaned my forehead against it, struggling for control. I couldn’t give up and go away. If I did, I might never see her again. It seemed pretty clear that she’d never come looking for me.

  The only strategy I could think of at the moment was to wait her out, so I slid back to the floor.

  I’d never missed anyone like this. Never needed anyone before. She was like some nutrient my body needed to function correctly and now she was gone and I was slowly falling apart. If this was love, I wasn’t sure it was worth the agony.

  A girl with mouse-brown hair in a high ponytail came up to me, her head tilted to the side, her eyes full of worry. “Are you okay?” she said softly.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m waiting for my girlfriend.”

  She looked over her shoulder like she was hoping for some support, but no-one was there. “I overheard her tell you to leave. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if I could help.”

  I stared up at her, knowing my desolation was painted all over me and that there was nothing I could do to hide it. “I’m waiting so we can talk it out.”

  “Okay.” She offered a tentative smile. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  The girl turned and disappeared into the room across the hall. Had Caroline heard any of our conversation? Did she know I was still here, waiting pathetically for her to come out and acknowledge me?

  Never, in all my dreaming about girls, had I imagined myself in a position like this.

  A long time later, she opened her door again. She came out and stopped short when she saw me. Then she heaved a gigantic sigh.

  “Max, go home.”

  “Hear me out.”

  “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

  I thought I saw pity in her eyes, and that pissed me off.

  “You need to leave,” she said. “Don’t make me call campus security.”

  My mouth opened. And closed. And opened again. “You’d do that to me?”

  “I don’t want to, but if you won’t go on your own, I will.”

  “Jesus, Caro.” I climbed to my feet. “What happened to us?”

  “You happened. You lied to me. Used me.” Her chin trembled and her voice broke. It hurt me to see that. “You have no idea how bad that feels.”

  “I know how bad it feels to have thought of doing it, for even one second. I’m so sorry, Caro.”

  Her lip was trembling now as well. “So am I.”

  “Please, let’s talk about this.”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “It’s too late for that. If you don’t leave, I’m going to call security.”

  I’d thought I’d already hit bottom. I’d been wrong. This was much further down than I’d been before.

  She turned on her phone and started to hit the number buttons. There was nothing left for me to do except leave, so I started walking. The only other option was to kidnap her and make her listen to me, but that was not only illegal, it would definitely make her hate me even more than she already did.

  I was beaten.

  ***

  I walked home. Normally, a walk will calm me and take me to a place where things look less hopeless, but not tonight. When I got to my house, I stared up at the second floor and couldn’t bring myself to walk up to my apartment. The thought of one more night alone in that place was too much.

  I got into my car and drove out to Brad and Marie’s place. The lights were on in the living room. They were home and I was going to tell them what I’d done and they were going to be so fucking mad at me. But it was the only place I had to go.

  “Hi, Max!” Marie’s welcoming smile faded when she got a better look at me. “Damn, you look like crap.”

  “That’s what everyone says these days.”

  “Come in. Brad’s in the living room watching TV.”

  I followed her into the living room. Brad took one look at me and turned the TV off, motioning me to sit with him on the couch. They flanked me, like they were trying to prevent me from escaping. I sat down and stared at the blank TV screen, my hands loose on my lap.

  “What happened, hon?” Marie said.

  “You look like someone died,” Brad added.

  “Caroline left me.”

  Marie’s small hand covered one of mine. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “It was my fault. I drove her away.”

  She squeezed my hand, but said nothing. Both of them sat silently with me, waiting. I stared at the TV. The only other time I could remember feeling pain like this was that day, that long ago day, when my brother had died because of me.

  “I used her to hurt Trent and she found out,” I said.

  “Oh, Max.” Marie sounded so disappointed in me.

  “I didn’t mean—I thought we could move on, that it didn’t matter—”

  “But it did,” Brad said. “Didn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” It did.

  “You love her,” Marie said.

  “Yeah.”

  She patted my hand. I just kept staring at that blank TV. I didn’t know where else to look or what to do. It seemed that nothing I said or did would get Caroline to even listen to what I had to say, let alone think about coming back to me. So I sat and stared and tried not to think about anything.

  “You look like you haven’t been eating,” Marie said.

  I shrugged.

  “Come on.” She tugged at my arm. “We just finished dinner. I’ll get you something.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “Take a few bites for me.”

  “Leave the boy alone,” Brad said.

  “He needs to eat or he’ll make himself sick.”

  Getting sick sounded good right now. It would almost be a relief to sink into illness, something that would blank out my mind even more than it already was.

  “Get up, Max.” She tugged me again. “Come on. Just a few bites. Then I’ll stop bugging you.”

  I gave in because I knew it would make her feel better to take care of me. The kitchen still smelled like pan-fried chicken. She bustled around in between the fridge and the cupboards while Brad pulled out a chair and sat down next to me.

  “You want a beer?” he said.

  “Sure.”

  Marie set a bottle of ale in front of me. I took my key chain out and used the miniature bottle opener to open it. Even though this house was new to me, the sight and sound of my foster parents and the smell of Marie’s cooking was familiar and comforting.

  Brad laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’re not alone, Max. You have us. You’ll always have us to come home to.”

  My eyes stung. “Thanks,” I said hoarsely.

  Marie set a plate in front of me. Just a few bites, she’d said. She’d given me a large piece of the chicken, plus a giant helping of homemade mashed potatoes and gravy and some kind of carrot dish.

  “Thanks.” There was no way I could finish this.

  I stuck m
y fork listlessly into the mashed potatoes and put it in my mouth. They were buttery and perfect. I took another bite.

  “We love you,” Marie said, taking the remaining chair.

  “I love you, too,” I said, sticking a piece of chicken in my mouth.

  She smiled at me. She wasn’t going to lecture me on my shameful behavior toward Caroline, apparently, and for that I was grateful. I didn’t think I could handle a scolding at the moment.

  When I’d put away about half the food, I pushed the plate across the table. It was probably more than I’d eaten in the whole two weeks Caroline had been gone. “Sorry, but I can’t eat anymore.”

  “That’s okay. You did good.” She took the plate and put it in the sink. “Would you like to stay here for the night?”

  I looked at her and then Brad and slowly nodded. “Yeah.” They were babying me and I really didn’t care. I didn’t want to be alone right now.

  ***

  Chapter 25

  Caroline

  I’d never felt more alone than when I watched Max walking away from me. Leaving me. Clearly I’d lost my mind, because I was the one who’d made him go. But, God, it tore me apart to see him do it.

  I’d been on my way to meet Paige for dinner. I probably wouldn’t have eaten more than a bite or two, but she wanted to see me and I owed her for getting my stuff for me. Now I didn’t think I could face her or anyone else. I turned around and went back in my room, texting her that I was canceling.

  Then I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe I should withdraw from this term and go home for a few months. I could always come back in the spring, when I’d had a chance to get over him. It would be running away, but so what? At least I wouldn’t have to worry about running into him or having him come to my room and wait in the hall. How long had he been waiting out there? An hour at least.

  I rubbed my eyes. They were dry of tears, but my throat was thick and tight with the need to cry. Love sucked. It sucked big time.

  I heard a rustle and a sigh from the other side of the room. My heart paused and I went cold. Slowly, I turned my head, expecting Retro-girl, but it wasn’t her. It was a man.

  He sat in my desk chair, watching me. He had dark hair and wore an odd, old-fashioned looking brown suit. His face, especially the eyes, reminded me of Max.

  “W-who are you?” I whispered, clutching my comforter in my fists.

  “I apologize if I startled you,” he said. “My name is Frederick Marchand.”

  “You’re F-fred? Max’s Fred?”

  “The same.” He smiled and it was Max’s smile. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Caroline Winters.”

  “Um...it’s nice to meet you, too.” What a bizarre thing to say to a ghost. Slowly I sat up. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?”

  “To plead Max’s case.”

  I closed my eyes. “Look, Fred, there’s nothing to plead. Max and I are finished.”

  “He loves you.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He only said that to get me away from Trent.”

  “Is that so? Then why didn’t he drop you as soon as you broke up with his stepbrother? Why say he loved you? There was no need, if his only purpose was to hurt Trent.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. I can’t take him back. I could never trust him again.”

  “I urge you to reconsider.”

  God, how I wanted to give in. How I wanted to call Max and tell him to come over, that I forgave him, that everything was all right. But it wasn’t all right. He’d lied to me.

  “I’m better off without a man,” I said.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. They’re overwhelming and dictatorial and untruthful and I—” Miss him so damn much I can’t stand it. I blinked rapidly to hold back the tears.

  “Please think about giving him another chance,” Fred said. “You won’t regret it.”

  I couldn’t speak. If I opened my mouth, I’d start sobbing and I really didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger. Even if he was a ghost.

  My hands came up to cover my eyes. He made no sound and when I lowered my hands a few minutes later, he was gone.

  ***

  On Saturday morning, I was getting ready to go to breakfast when I got a knock on my door. My whole body tensed. Could it be Max? My heart raced as I went to answer it. I ought to be furious with him for ignoring my rejection, and part of me was, but most of me rejoiced that he’d come back. Most of me wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him.

  I opened the door. It wasn’t Max. A petite, brown-haired woman stood there, staring at me in obvious apprehension.

  Her hair was cut in a chic bob and she wore skinny jeans and kitten heels with a loosely-knitted, artistic looking gray tunic with a long, narrow red scarf. Interesting outfit.

  Then I took a better look at her face and my breath stopped. I recognized her. I knew her.

  “I’m looking for Caroline Winters,” she said, looking unsure of herself.

  “Aunt Jo?”

  She broke into a huge smile. “Caroline! Oh, my God, it is you! You’re all grown up.”

  “I can’t believe it’s you. How did you find me?”

  “A friend let me know where you were,” she said.

  That sounded mysterious.

  “I was about to get some breakfast. Want to come with me?” I said.

  “Yes. I’d love to.”

  I locked up and we started down the hall. “I asked Mom where you were but she didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, she hasn’t talked to me since they kicked me out.”

  “I’m so sorry about that. I never meant to get you in trouble.”

  Jo frowned at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “They kicked you out because of me. Because I—well, you know—I was talking to an invisible friend.”

  “Sweetheart, it had nothing to do with you. Your parents wanted me to get treatment and I refused. It wasn’t your fault.”

  I bit my lip as I pushed the elevator call button. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” She looked at me with wide eyes. “Have you blamed yourself all these years?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Kind of.”

  She made a pained sound. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, all of it. If I hadn’t started drinking, they wouldn’t have kicked me out.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, so I didn’t say anything.

  We went to a nearby family-style restaurant that served pancakes and eggs. Jo kept staring at me in what looked like wonder. I didn’t know why, or what was so wonderful about me, but I guess it was because she hadn’t seen me in so long. I’d been a little girl of eleven when she’d left.

  “You look so much like your mom,” she said after we’d ordered.

  “Do I?” I’d never thought that.

  “Oh, yeah. Your hair is exactly the same, and your eyes are really similar, too.”

  My mom did have brown eyes. But the hair...

  “She makes her hair straight,” I said.

  “Does she? She used to have it curly.”

  “Not anymore. It’s so shiny and smooth it looks like a mirror. She’s always ironing it and covering it in some kind of gloss stuff.”

  “I like the way you have yours better,” Jo said. “It’s natural.”

  That’s what Max had said. “Thanks. You look good, too.”

  She smiled. “I’m doing pretty well. I’m sober and I have a decent job as an office manager in Portland.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  It was good to see her looking healthy and happy. That was something I’d thought would never happen. I’d always imagined her dying alone and cold under a freeway overpass or something like that. I’d had nightmares about it for years.

  “I worried about you,” I said.

  “I worried about you, too.” She studied me thoughtfully. “Do you still see them?”

  I blinked. “See them? You mean ghosts?”
>
  “Yes.”

  I took a sip of my coffee in order to gather my thoughts. “For a long time, I didn’t see anything. Recently, though, I’ve been having...experiences.” I glanced at her. “Do you see them too?”

  “Oh, yes. I started drinking to get rid of them, but that didn’t work. It only made me an alcoholic and a drug addict.”

  Wow. That was just what Max had said. Suddenly the yearning for him came back full force, hitting me with a choking wave of sadness.

  Jo leaned over the table, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I waved my hand vaguely. “What you said just reminded me of my ex-boyfriend.”

  “Oh. A recent break-up?”

  “Two weeks ago,” I said through the lump in my throat. “I l-loved him.”

  “That’s always so hard.”

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Hang in there. Things will get better eventually.”

  I nodded again.

  “Is that why you look so thin? I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but you look like you don’t eat enough.”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “That happens to me, too, when I’m sad. You’ve got to force down a few bites, though, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I lifted my coffee cup so I’d have an excuse not to say anything more.

  Paige was always pestering me to eat. She kept bringing me treats like cookies and ice cream sandwiches, ordering pizzas and waving them under my nose in an effort to make me hungry. It never worked. I had no appetite at all and I didn’t care enough to force myself. The only time I put food in my mouth was basically when Paige held something to my lips and refused to take it away.

  “So, how are your parents and the twins?” Jo said brightly.

  “They’re good. Lily and Landon are in fourth grade this year.”

  My aunt shook her head in amazement. “I can hardly believe it.”

  I pulled out my phone and called up my pictures of them to show her. She pored over them, not even looking up when the waitress brought our food. I could see lines around her eyes and mouth that I didn’t remember from before, and there were silver streaks in her hair, but she still looked beautiful. My strange and lovely aunt.

  “Max believes in ghosts,” I said.