I figured this would happen sooner or later. Nancy’s alcoholism has been an ongoing theme for years. It was only a matter of time before she broke Mia down completely. When Mia’s dad died a couple years ago, everything imploded.
“What happened?”
“We got into a huge fight and she kicked me out of the house again.”
“Are you staying at Hadley’s?”
“Yeah, but she leaves tomorrow morning for a family vacation. I’m screwed.”
“No you’re not. Pack your bags and drive down here.”
Mia goes silent on the other end, then exhales harshly. “You know I can’t come down and visit. There’s no way I’ll get the time off work.”
“I’m not talking about coming to visit. I’m talking about moving down here.”
Another round of silence.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Why not? It’s the perfect solution. I have an empty bedroom waiting to be filled, and you need a place to stay. You already know the area. Plus, you’ve got Eric and me to lean on. I know it’s not the same as having your dad here, but it’s something.”
“It’s more than something,” she acknowledges, “but it’s crazy. I can’t drop everything and leave. Besides, I don’t want to burden you with all my shit.”
“Mia, I hate to break it to you, but things aren’t going to get better. No one should have to sacrifice this much at twenty-two. It’s ridiculous. And no self-respecting parent would ever do that to her own child. You need your freedom, and I need more Mia in my life. Make that happen. What do you have to lose?”
She’s considering my proposal; I can feel it.
“If I do this, I won’t be able to pay you rent right away. My savings is almost drained from all the bills my mom owes.”
“That’s fine. Just get down here. Once you get situated, we’ll find you a job and go from there.”
I can sense the immediate relief on the other end of the line. It’s so monumental; it hits me all the way down here in Texas.
“There’s zucchini bread,” I bribe.
She exhales. “Fuck it. Let’s do this. Can I move in next weekend? I need to finish out the remainder of my shifts at the diner and the café. I don’t want to screw anyone over. They’ve all been so good to me.”
“I have to work Saturday and Sunday, but I’ll see if I can swap a shift with Emilio on one of those days so I can be here to help move you in.”
“Do you work Friday?”
“No, but I have class until 1:15.”
“I’ll have to drive all day anyway, so let’s shoot for Friday night if you’re free.”
“Works for me.”
“Oh, my God. Thank you so much, Rave. Seriously, you have no idea what you’ve just done for me.”
A wide grin sweeps across my face. “I’m getting just as much out of this arrangement as you are. Two single chicks on the loose? Uh...yes, pretty mama.”
She laughs and I can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since she’s had something to laugh about.
“Maybe you can house sit for Hadley’s fam? That way you have a place to stay until you come down here,” I suggest.
“No way. I’m not asking them for help. It’s not their responsibility to take care of me. I’ll figure something out. Knowing there’s light at the end of the tunnel makes everything worth it.”
I exit the kitchen and stride into Mia’s soon-to-be bedroom. I flip on the light and inspect the carpet to see if it needs vacuuming. I’ve only set foot in here once since Tori left, and that was to check and make sure she didn’t leave anything behind.
“If you get in a bind and need to come down sooner, text me. The spare room is yours for as long as you need it.”
“I don’t even know if this is gonna work.”
“Us living together?”
“No. Me starting over.”
“Start by packing one box at a time. If it’s not what you imagined once you get here, you can always go back. It’s not a permanent decision unless you want it to be. Remember that later when you’re torturing yourself with doubt.”
She exhales sharply. “You’re right. I got this. I don’t know why I’m so scared to pull the plug. It’s not like anyone’s taking care of me financially. I’ve proven I can make it on my own. Everything else pales in comparison.”
“Exactly. Now hurry up and get down here.”
* * *
Mia moved in the following Friday. To celebrate, we shimmied our way through one of Eric’s ritualistic, lowbrow house parties and consumed more grilled hot dogs and beer than I’d care to admit to. Eric was stoked to see Mia, as always, but much to our amusement, she was busy flirting with someone else throughout the night—Chase.
Go figure.
I didn’t even see the point in trying to prevent it. She can handle herself. Plus, Chase has eased his manwhore streak. Underneath that once shallow exterior resides a newly reformed human being. I’m trusting him not to screw my best friend over.
That same best friend is currently chilling out on my couch, scrolling through her phone, anxiously waiting for dinner. I stir the pasta and sample the sauce to see if it needs any more seasoning. Glad I did that. I chop up some more basil and toss it into the pot to simmer. I switch on the light to the oven and bend down to check the status of the garlic bread.
“Do you think it’s true that men think about sex every seven seconds?”
I straighten my spine and turn to look at Mia. “You’re so random, you know that?”
“For real, though. Let that sink in. That’s an obscene amount. There’s no way they’d ever be able to get anything done during the day. Let’s give them a little more credit.”
“That sounds like an exaggeration,” I agree.
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
She sits up on the couch and types furiously on her phone, hunting down answers.
“So, apparently there was a recent study conducted at Ohio State University where they had both men and women use clickers to record how often they each thought about sex, food, and sleep throughout the day.”
“And?”
“According to this article, they found that the average man thought about sex 19 times a day, and the average woman thought about it 10 times a day. Men also thought about food and sleep more.”
“Sounds legit.”
“Yeah, but it begs the question: Were the participants holding back? I mean, if you were asked to be honest about every sexual thought you had, would you cop to it in a study?”
“Where is all this coming from?” I ask, amused.
“When Chase and I were on our date the other night, I swear he thought about stripping me naked the whole time. And that’s not me being conceited. I could see it in his eyes.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I was definitely entertaining the possibility. No questions asked.”
“Okay. So?”
“So it got me thinking. Was his reaction due to the fact that I was sitting right there for visual stimulation? Or are these images constantly playing through his mind?”
“It’s because a hot girl was sitting directly across from him,” Eric announces, kicking the front door shut behind him. “He was provoked into thinking about it.”
Mia looks up at him in disbelief. “The hell? You could hear us talking from the other side of the door?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says like it’s a no-brainer. “Y’all are loud. As soon as I heard the word sex, I stopped everything to eavesdrop.”
Mia looks over at me, mouth all agape. I shrug and concentrate on stirring the sauce.
Eric leans down to drop a kiss on Mia’s head, then strides over to do the same with me.
“Smells delicious,” he praises. “Is there enough for me?”
“I wasn’t put on this planet to cater to your every dire need, Eric.”
He takes a considerable step back. “Well, excuse me, Gloria Steinem. Are you planning on
serving me some food with that sass? Or do I have to fork over both balls in order to get a plate?”
“Don’t start,” I warn.
I have zero patience for his hate-flirting these days.
“You started it the moment I walked through the door. I’ve done nothing to you. Pause and reset, or I’m leaving.”
“You two act like a married couple sometimes, I swear.”
I stiffen.
Eric spins around. “Interesting observation, Mia. Let’s review the facts, shall we? I never seem to do anything right, I’m constantly getting bitched at, we aren’t having sex, and she finds me childish and incorrigible. Sounds about right. But at least with marriage you get the tax breaks,” he sneers.
Irritated doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. My face is as red as the spaghetti sauce. If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now.
Eric eases up, noticing my hostility. I inhale a deep breath. I’ve been so focused on not letting my true feelings slip that I’ve gone too far in the opposite direction. Now I’m snapping at him for no reason. It’s always been a struggle to keep my emotions in check when he’s around. You’d think I’d be a pro with all the practice I’ve had, but it’s only gotten progressively worse. The more time passes, the more I find myself coming undone. Like someone gradually tugging on the loose thread of a sweater until it completely unravels.
“Are you coming to ACL with us this weekend, Strawberry?”
Mia glances back and forth between Eric and me, then nods.
“Yeah. Raven pitched the idea to me a couple days ago.”
“Want to ride along with me? I’m heading down there for the morning shows and making it an all-day drinking and jamming extravaganza. Be my guiding light. Save me from the pathetic, miserable existence that is my life. Well, save me from existing alone in it, the patheticness-ness of it all.”
I roll my eyes.
“Jesus. Next time warn me before you go dark,” Mia tells him.
“Is that a no?”
“No, I’ll go with you. Chase offered to give me a ride, but I’ll just text him and tell him I’m riding with you instead. Besides, he and Raven won’t be able to make it until the evening.”
“Solid. Everybody wins.”
Beep! Saved by the timer. I strain the spaghetti and slip on some oven mitts to retrieve the garlic bread. Mia hops up and saunters into the kitchen, grabbing us plates and silverware.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Eric declares, twirling his keys around his index finger.
I glance over at him. “You’re not staying?”
“Not unless you remove that Texas-sized chip on your shoulder.”
“Rich coming from you.”
“That’s what I thought,” he says, drifting toward the door. And he’s gone.
A wave of disappointment washes over me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to stay, but begging is for amateurs. Why can’t he just step up and fight for me? Whatever. It’s probably for the best. Wouldn’t want to break the torturous cycle we have going and actually come to a resolution. What would be the fun in that?
TWELVE
r a v e n
I’ve never been one for large crowds. Too much chaos and claustrophobia. Having said that, if you’re willing to surrender yourself to a predominantly hipster population with questionable fashion judgment, Austin City Limits Music Festival is the way to do it. Everything’s spacious, outdoors, and low-key. Perfect combination for all day drinking and lounging with friends. You can listen to all the hottest bands and still manage to hold a semi-coherent conversation, depending on how hammered you are.
Too bad I’m the DD tonight.
When you’re the most responsible one of the group, everyone looks to you for money, rides, guidance, support, and logical decision-making. Then, when they all sober up, they berate you for “mommying” them. Need someone to hold your hair while you puke your guts out? I’m your girl. Need to be bailed out of jail? Dial my number. Yup, that’s me. Loyal and reliable to a fault. You make the mess; I’ll clean it up.
Don’t ask me how I’m always the one drafted for this position. It’s a mystery. As if I’m incapable of having any fun myself.
I brush off my stormy mood and focus on finding my friends in a crowd of thousands. The heat is positively blistering. A cold anything sounds pretty good right about now. I finally come face to face with Mia and confess, “I need a drink.”
“Rough night at the restaurant?”
“Very.”
“Should we make it a double?”
“No. I’m driving tonight,” I remind her.
“Oh, right. Good call.”
We head toward one of the beer tents.
“Let’s stop at the bathrooms on the way,” she says.
“Broke the seal, did you?”
She nods gravely, causing me to laugh.
Mood improved.
After we purchase our beers, we weave through the masses, searching for Chase and Eric. We reach the stage where Foster the People are currently belting out the song, “Are You What You Want To Be?” and we stop to mingle and watch from a distance, taking it all in. I sip on my beer and barely avoid colliding with the person next to me. Once the song’s over, we move on to a less crowded area and scan.
“I don’t see them anywhere!” Mia yells in my ear.
“Me neither!”
Off to the side, I spot Eric and Chase enjoying the AWOLNATION show. My smile falters when I notice two attractive girls flirting with them. Ugh. Why am I not surprised? Is it impossible to leave these guys alone for five freaking seconds? I tug on Mia’s arm and nod in their direction. She follows my line of vision. Her fists clench up when she sees the shady exchange.
The blonde hanging off Eric proceeds to wrap her arms around his neck and leans into his chest. She rises up on her tiptoes to say something in his ear. My jealousy flares.
“What the fuck is she doing?” I hiss.
Mia spins around and shoots me a confused look.
“Seriously, why is he even entertaining the thought of her? He’s supposed to be with me. Clueless idiot!” I shout.
Mia glances back and forth between Eric and me, clearly not picking up on the vibe. Suddenly, the entire picture falls into focus, creating a clear-cut image. No use in hiding it anymore. She’s privy to what everyone else has known all along. I can tell she’s hurt by the newfound knowledge.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Rave, tell me what’s going on. Now.”
“Later,” I mouth, my eyes pleading.
She drops her arms and shakes her head. I don’t blame her for being upset. I should’ve told her a long time ago, but I didn’t want her to feel torn between Eric and me. We’re all she has down here.
I step forward and adjust both our outfits so the boys have something to drool over. When I’m pleased, I grab her hand and power through the crowd.
“Come on. Whatever you do, don’t let them see you sweat. That’s giving them a satisfaction they don’t deserve.”
The guys sense our presence the moment we approach and spin around to face us. My guarded eyes find Eric’s. I study his expression for any trace of remorse or longing and come up short on both counts. His hand slips around the blonde’s waist possessively. He’s testing me, itching to get under my skin. I smile sweetly, refusing to let him have it. If this is the way he wants to play it, I’ll beat him at his own game.
“Are y’all going to introduce us to your friends, or are we just supposed to pull their names out of thin air?” I ask.
Chase and Eric glance at each other. Mia uses the opportunity to stare at me like I’m crazy. I shrug and give away nothing more.
“Mia, Raven, this is Tamika. Tamika works with me at Surge. This is her friend, Sasha,” Chase motions to the girl around Eric’s arm. “I was just telling her how surprised I was to see her here. I figured she was working the bar tonight, but she happened to get the night off.”
I
step forward to shake both of the girls’ hands. Mia follows suit.
I turn to focus my attention on Sasha.
“So, how do you know Eric?”
“I met him at Chase’s place, actually. Tamika invited me over one night and we all hung out together.”
Of course they did.
Mia stiffens when she hears that interesting tidbit. She’s been on a date with Chase, just last week.
“Is that so?” I ask coyly. “Well, Mia and I were thinking about doing some bar hopping tonight to meet some guys. Y’all should join. It’ll be more fun as a group. What do you say, ladies?”
Tamika hesitates, her eyes darting back and forth between Chase and Eric. “Um, sure. Sounds like fun, I guess.”
“Excellent!”
I can feel Eric’s angry gaze burning a hole through the side of my head. I don’t feel the least bit guilty. He’ll get over it. Lord knows he’s put me through similar situations.
We settle on the last club of the night—Surge. It’s packed wall-to-wall with tons of gorgeous guys, mood-setting lights, pulsating beats. We waste no time hitting the dance floor.
My prude complex shatters to a zillion pieces as I grind my hips provocatively into the guy who asked me to dance—the guy I’ve never seen before in my life. My mind screams not be this girl, but I ignore it. I’m sick of being good all the time. I want to let loose and have fun like everybody else.
When I catch Eric staring, I ramp up the dirty dancing. I want to gut him, make him suffer as much as he’s made me suffer. From the look in his eyes, it’s working. He retaliates by fisting the back of Sasha’s hair and crushing his lips to hers.
That one nearly destroys me. No way can I keep up that pace. I’m...not that girl.
Suddenly, I don’t feel like dancing anymore.
I slowly back up, stunned. Bastard is ballsier than I gave him credit for. I keep my eyes zeroed in on their lips, watching the man I love more than anything passionately kiss another woman. A sharp pang spreads through my chest. I force myself to stay put and absorb it. Remember it. I need this. Without it, I’ll slip back into old patterns and forget all the reasons why I should stay away from him.
Catching Raven Page 12