by Lily Kay
I was hoping you would be here when I got back.
I miss you.
Lou?
Sorry I left in such a hurry.
Please call me when you get this.
I know it wasn’t very mature of me, but I turned my phone off, attached it to the charger, and turned off the lights. Maybe in my sleep everything would dissipate, and I could start all over again.
~ ~ ~
I woke up groggy, puffy-eyed, and annoyed sleep couldn’t erase reality. I had pretty much remained a zombie over the weekend and holed up in my room. Thankfully Sierra understood all about the heartache from breakups and kept the boys away from me.
Who knew how easy I had fallen asleep anytime I wasn’t working on homework or practicing. Who knew breakups could endure with this level of tedium?
By Monday, I ran on vapors, still ignoring his texts. And when Wednesday arrived, I had to figure something out because I still sucked at theory and sight-singing.
Procrastinating my way to room 251, I finally gave in and read the text.
Lou, I fucked up. Let me explain. Please don’t shut me out.
Shut him out? I’m certain he shut me out. He left me. He refused to tell me anything about her. He chose her over me.
Unfortunately, Haven scheduled a test tomorrow, leaving me no choice but to see Gavin for tutoring. Otherwise I would have skipped the session without even thinking twice. For the time being, I avoided the reality we weren’t going to work out after all. Then I could shove it in Dr. Liz’s face I wasn’t ready for all the shit associated with falling in love.
Who sang Love Stinks? They weren’t kidding. I took out my phone and googled Love Stinks song and up popped The J. Geils band. From 1980. Dang, it was an old song. Probably popular when my parents were kids.
I remained standing outside the door Googling more songs from the J. Geils band, while listening to Gavin play one of his songs on his stupid soundtrack. As much as my stall tactic kept me from seeing Gavin, I still had a test to prepare for. Curse Haven and her you’ll be lucky if you get a C exams. I ran through my rules of engagement:
1) Remain professional.
2) Don’t let him hug you.
3) Tell him it sucks to be second.
4) Get the hell out of there and run.
Literally run. Because his legs were long. And in shape. And he could totally take me down hopping on one foot because I was no sprinter.
I puffed my cheeks out and released all the air before leaning into the door. Turning the knob, I exhaled. Here went nothing.
“Lou,” he said. The music abruptly stopped, and he grasped the top edge of the piano.
I ignored him, and bee-lined to the desk in the middle of the first row. After I placed my backpack on the floor, I retrieved my notes for the exam tomorrow.
“I have a huge test tomorrow in sight-singing, and I hoped we could do some intervals and transcription.” My lips smooshed together in a painful smile.
I tried. I did.
Gavin cupped the back of his neck and leaned his head back. He straightened his back, and I noticed a muscle twitch along the edge of his jaw. “You promise we’ll talk afterward?”
“Sure.” Only a partial lie. Because I had no intention of listening to what he had to say. I’d say my peace and leave. Let him stew because I wasn’t about to continue this emotional hamster wheel.
“Okay.” He released his grip on the piano and stood up, advancing upon me.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I backed away from him in sync with his approach.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the piano playing intervals or making up harmonies and shit for me to decipher?” I pointed back toward the piano, hoping his legs would walk him back to the bench.
“Well, I thought I’d give you a hug, and maybe see what you wrote on your study sheet?”
I backed up against the desk, forcing an awkward shimmy to the seat. “Oh, well. Uh, I don’t think you want to hug me.” I leaned over, unzipped my backpack, and grabbed my pencil case.
“No? Pretty sure I do. I missed you. I hoped you’d be home when I got back.”
“Okay, not talking about it now, remember? And no hugs. I have a rash.” I rummaged through my pencil case and pulled out a mechanical pencil and eraser pen.
“You have a rash.”
“Yes, um. Got it last night, contagious, like poison ivy type random rash. You definitely don’t want to touch me. Like, I’d stand there and not come any closer.”
Gavin stood in front of my desk, arms folded.
I pointed to my study guide sheet. “You may not even want to touch this either.” I shifted it one-hundred eighty degrees. He didn’t buy my rash excuse, but I think I made it clear I wasn’t ready for any physical contact.
Touching him would absolutely distract me, and negate rule number two of no hugging, which meant I’d never get through the rest of the list.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the sheet, and then me. Turning back toward the piano, Gavin mussed his hair. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” His voice hardened in anger with me. When he should have been apologizing for hurting me. He was the one in the wrong, not me.
He played a few chords, and I wrote them down, not having any success. His temper flared as he pounded the keys, the forte of the dynamics and the intensity of the chords matching his mood.
“Tell me what you have written down.” The playing stopped, and he marched over to my desk again. I leaned back in my seat, not certain if he wanted to hurt me or hold me.
With his pencil, he circled my errors. “This is wrong, it’s a half-diminished ninth chord into a major. Why are you making these stupid mistakes?” He circled another chord, and I watched as the tip of lead flew across the desk onto the floor.
“Look, I will never be the musical genius you are, okay? Can we try some more?” My speech matched the frustrated pitch in his voice.
“You know what? No. We’re done. It doesn’t matter how many times I play. You already know this, and you’re not focusing. This is fucking ridiculous. You don’t return my texts or phone calls. We’re not in fucking middle school.”
My lower lip quivered, remembering my first talking point. Remain professional. “Fine.”
I closed my staff notebook and placed the study guide in my sight-singing folder. Both items went into the backpack and I meticulously zipped it closed. The sound of the zip filled the room, along with his heavy breathing, and my pounding heart.
I rose from the seat, secured the pack on my shoulders, and moved around to the other side of Gavin. Closer to the door, preparing for rule number four.
I inhaled for three full seconds and willed myself not to cry. Not this time. “Here’s the deal. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t remain second to whomever it is you run to every time she cries.”
“It’s not like that.” He reached out for me, but I backed up, evading his touch even though my body screamed in protest.
“Please, let me finish.” I held up a hand.
“Okay, fine.” He tucked his fingers into the creases of his now folded arms.
“I deserve to be first, not some other girl. I know you say it’s not what I think, and there’s no attraction there, it still hurts. You won’t tell me who she is, and then you take off as soon as she says boo. This royally sucks, because I’m certain I’m falling in love with you. And it hurts too much.”
“Jesus.” He tried to reach for me again, but I moved a step closer toward my escape.
“You have to let me go.” Feeling my stomach sink, I ran out of the room with tears blurring my line of sight, silently praying he would listen.
Chapter 23
I had spent the night hidden in my be
droom, repeatedly replaying what went down in the tutoring session. And yes, I refused to talk to anyone. Especially Matt and his inability to understand when it was appropriate to be a little more sensitive versus telling it straight, as he liked to say.
And I’m certain I had bombed Haven’s test, which meant more tutoring with Gavin. No idea how I’d navigate that shitfest. Avoidance seemed the only way to salvage my dignity and my demolished heart.
I had wasted the entire night conjuring up ways I could get the J. Geils Band to have a reunion and write an updated version of Love Stinks. Maybe Love Sucks Dog Shit. Too stalker-crazy?
Unfortunately, sometimes I got what I wished for. I had requested Gavin let me go, and the bastard did. Didn’t try to call or text or email. Nothing.
Yeah, I had asked for it, but a part of me still hoped Gavin might not be over me yet. How he would come beg on his knees to have me take him back, all the while professing how he would never speak to his female friend again. Ridiculous, right?
I went to class Thursday, and on Friday had sat on the opposite side of the room from Gavin during composition. Like a chicken-shit, I had bolted out again before he had a chance to catch me. Relief flooded me when we were not required to talk with our “soundboards.”
Though Thursday night mimicked Wednesday’s pathetic state, at least Friday night improved slightly when I had morphed into Lizzie Bennett while watching the 1996 Colin Firth version of Pride and Prejudice. At least someone got their Happily Ever After.
After consuming a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough before falling asleep in my clothes, I had awoken to chocolaty drool on my pillow.
I had excelled at finding things to do while locked in my room: working on my composition piece, homework, writing letters to Gavin and ripping them up, writing letters to J. Geils and ripping them up.
After several days in seclusion, the takeout menu for the Thai place down the street rested in my lap. My staple of tofu and shrimp Pad Thai sounded mighty delish.
“Louie, love.” Nick’s voice muffled through the door, causing me to adjust the covers over my head. In case he had x-ray vision and could see through solid matter.
“We know you’re in there.” Sierra’s voice surprised me, since she appreciated the importance of my wallowing pity-party-time. Traitor.
“Louise, if you don’t open this door, I’m going to knock it down. You know I can.” Fucking rat bastard Matt.
I threw the covers off and trudged toward the door, opening it a crack.
“I’m fine. See? You can all go away now.” I slammed the door, shutting out my friends literally and figuratively.
Being the ass he was, Matt shoved my door open and forced his way in.
“No joke, Matt. I want to be alone right now.”
“Wrong answer.” Matt nodded at my roommates. “We’re staging an intervention. You’ve had plenty of time to feel dejected and gloomy. Now, it’s time to enter the land of the living again. We’re going to Groove.” He narrowed his eyes to almost lines of string.
“You may want to change your clothes, and I don’t know, do something with your hair and find a toothbrush? Because you stink.”
“So sweet of you. Makes me want to address these issues right away.” I directed my exhale on Matt as he fled behind Nick.
“We care about you. And it’s true, you do smell,” Nick concurred. “It’s time to take care of yourself and we can start with basic hygiene. Because right now you look more like an escaped prisoner than anything else. Not a good look for you, love.”
Sierra stood against the doorway, arms crossed. “Okay, boys, out.”
“I mean it.” Matt gestured air brushing his teeth. “At the very least.”
“Out,” Sierra commanded. She pushed them on their backs and shut the door.
“You know I love you with all my heart. I do. And I gave you space. But now it’s time to come back to us. And we would be sucky friends if we let you waste another weekend night.” She wandered over to my closet and pulled out some black skinny jean Capris, a heather pink tank top, and a black cotton wrap and threw them at me. “Wear these, and your cute knee-high black boots.”
Fifteen minutes later, I showered, brushed my teeth, and threw my hair up into a messy bun. I genuinely considered opting out of the teeth brushing to spite the boys. Chances of my lips finding themselves on another pair anytime soon were about zero percent. Especially tonight.
We piled into Nick’s Jag because Sierra was the designated driver and called dibs on joy-riding. If they were dragging me out to Groove, I wasn’t wasting the evening by staying sober. Opportunities for drunkenness at Groove were few and far between for me, since I usually agreed to be the designated driver.
We arrived as the first band set up the stage. We navigated to the table Nick had reserved.
“What do you all want?” Nick asked.
“The usual, strawberry daiquiri for me,” Sierra said. She pulled out her phone and checked her texts. “Emmy’s on her way, and she wants a Long Island.”
I raised my finger. “Make it two daiquiris.” Hell, I didn’t normally drink but since they forced me out of my safe room, I was going to have alcohol, dammit.
“Regular for me.” Matt alluded to the same micro-brew Nick ordered.
“Well, I’m proud of you. You changed clothes, brushed your hair, and your teeth. Well done.” Matt clapped slow and loud.
“You’re obnoxious.”
“Yep. But you love me.” He wrapped his arm around me and squeezed.
“Lord knows why.” I laid my head momentarily on his shoulder.
“Because I’m your hero, that’s why.”
I scoffed, turning to Sierra. “What’s going on in the land of Sierra? Any boys you might actually consider introducing us to?”
Sierra tossed her hair to the side, and grinned. “Nothing serious right now. There’s a guy in my still life class who’s super cute. But I haven’t decided if I want to risk it or not.”
“Actually risk having a relationship beyond two weeks?” Matt leaned onto the table toward her.
“I don’t think anyone asked you, Mateo.” She scowled at him.
Matt shrugged his shoulders. “Truth hurts.” He grunted.
“Like you’re one to talk, having an affair with your advisor.” Sierra’s eyes were now about half their width, and she flipped him off. Seemed to be a theme with them. Him saying something to piss her off, and her giving him the bird.
“Hey, at least it’s lasted longer than two weeks, which is exponentially longer than you can say.”
“Touché, but at least I’m not sleeping with someone who is already married.” Sierra gave extra emphasis to the word married.
Emmy finally arrived. “Who’s not sleeping with someone married?”
Matt ignored her question. “She has an open relationship. I’m not one to judge.”
“Ah, we’re talking about Matt and the professor,” Emmy deduced. I pointed my finger to my nose. Bullseye.
“Of course, you’re not going to judge, because you’re fucking her all the time.” Sierra held back nothing regarding her issue with Matt dating his professor. I thought his behavior risky, but I wasn’t as outraged about it as she had become over the course of the semester.
“Exactly. And what’s wrong with that? Everyone’s consenting.” This argument was stuck on rewind.
“Are you shitting me? Where are your morals? Don’t you have any ounce of decency?” Sierra shredded her napkin, waiting for Matt to defend himself.
“Listen, sweetheart. Don’t be jealous I’m getting some, and you’re not. Doesn’t give you the right to shame me into feeling guilty about my relationship. We’re all adults in this, and her husband is screwing some chick at his work. And they’re still happily married. N
o one’s getting hurt. Just back off.”
“First of all, I’m getting plenty, asshole. Second, no one’s claiming they’re getting hurt. At least not to you,” Sierra spat back.
My head wearied from watching the verbal ping-pong match. “Give it a rest, you guys.” I shook my head. “I’m gonna see what’s taking Nick so long.”
“I’ll come with,” Emmy volunteered. I wondered if Sierra and Matt noticed us leaving because I still heard them going at it when we left.
“What is up with them?” Emmy asked as we made our way to the bar.
“They must get off on goading each other. It’s not exactly 24/7 at the house. But, certain things rile Sierra. And Matt can be an asshole, as you know.”
“I suppose you’re right. It seems like it’s gotten worse over the past couple months. More like, since the beginning of the semester.”
We made our way to the bar, and I craned my neck to find Nick. He had our drinks in front of him, but leaned over the bar, deep in conversation. I crept a little closer and saw a petite woman mixing a drink, smiling back at him, before passing the drink to another guy next to Nick.
“When did you say you started working here again?” I heard Nick ask, unable to hear her response because some weirdo came behind me, and grinded into me.
“Um, excuse me.” Who knew I’d encounter Dapper Dan with way too much Drakkar Noir.
Spray and walk. That’s all you need, dude.
“Hey, baby. You wanna come back to my table? I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“Not happening tonight. But thanks,” I said. I returned my attention back toward Nick, who so far ignored the situation. He must be digging this chick.
I swiveled around to get a better look and envied her badass angled bob dyed jet black. And her flawless creamy skin. All the guys at the bar were vying for her attention because her face could be plastered on Cosmo.