(It Happened) One Friday

by Lori L. Otto

  8

  Zaina

  Just after Trey and Max leave, I re-pack the suitcase, putting most of my friend’s clothes in the plastic laundry bags provided by the hotel since nearly everything smells worn. Just as I settle onto the couch near the window to keep working on my playlist, the door opens and Callen enters. He’s grasping at a small towel around his waist, but I can see his bare skin in the gap that the cloth doesn’t cover.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Startled, he drops the towel. “Shit! Zaina, what are you doing here?”

  “Oh, my God!” I cover my mouth in shock, but stare for a second–for comparison’s sake–until he covers up again. Why isn’t he wearing anything? “So, it’s true?”

  “What are you talking about?” He’s defensive, right off the bat.

  “Did you really cheat on him?”

  His eyes look everywhere around the room, avoiding me, until he sees the stain a few feet to my right. “Why is there blood on the carpet?”

  “Did you?”

  He takes a few shallow breaths. “Is he okay?”

  “Did you?!”

  “Does he know?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Shit… it didn’t… it didn’t mean anything.”

  I huff at his response and stand to confront him. “I can’t believe you would do that to him!”

  “Zaina, shit! I don’t know why I did it.” His voice trembles and his eyes begin to water, but I feel no sympathy for him. I walk three steps toward him and slap him across the face, a move he never saw coming. He drops the towel again. I grab his swim shorts off the floor and throw them at him.

  “Wait… how did my shorts get here?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t feel sorry for you at all, Callen!”

  “Oh, fuck… he was there?” After putting his trunks on, he covers his mouth, shocked as he realizes what Max likely witnessed. When he blinks, tears drip from both eyes.

  “Great detective work.”

  He looks at his hand strangely, then down at his shorts. It’s the first time I noticed the dark red splotches. “Why is there blood on them?”

  “Figure it out, Sherlock. You know, it wasn’t enough that you broke Brinlee’s heart two years ago, but you’re going to do it to my other best friend now? How could you? How could you do this to him?!”

  “I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know why I did it.”

  “You better come up with some answers.”

  “I was mad,” he starts. “Drinking. And mad… and I… sh–where is he? What happened?” Anguished, he points to the floor.

  “I should just let you suffer. I shouldn’t even tell you. You don’t deserve to know anything about him,” I tell him stubbornly.

  “Why is his suitcase packed?”

  “He’s not staying with you! He can stay with us or in another room. We’ll pay for it. He obviously doesn’t want to stay with you.”

  “We can work this out,” he pleads.

  “No!” I shout. “You had plenty of opportunities to work it out with him before you… before you went out and did whatever you did with some other guy! God, Callen! He loves you! He’s done everything for you! How could you mess this up?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “I never wanted to hurt him.”

  “Well, you have. You’ve broken him.” My voice cracks. “You broke him.” I start to cry.

  “Zai,” he says softly. “Come on. Is he in your room?”

  “No, he’s at the hospital, Callen.” I look back at the floor. “That blood? He needs stitches.”

  “He punched through the window?” He walks closer to see Max’s blood on the glass, too.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I go? Should I–”

  “No, you should stay away from him. He doesn’t want to see you right now, I’m sure.”

  “I don’t know what to do. Should I… clean up, maybe?”

  “Callen you’ve got to get yourself together. Put on some clean clothes and figure out your life! Stop hurting my friends because I really don’t like you right now.”

  “Come on, I’m sorry…”

  “I’m gonna take his things,” I say, tugging at the heavy luggage.

  “Zaina, no.” He pulls the suitcase toward him.

  “Yes!” I yank harder. “Yes! I’m taking his stuff, Callen. We’ll figure out where he’s staying. You figure out your own stuff.”

  “What am I supposed to do about all of this?” he asks, motioning to the mess of glass in the room and on the patio.

  “I guess you should call the front desk and have them fix the window or move you to another room. Pay for the damages. Beg for forgiveness from them, I don’t know. It’s a start.”

  “But I didn’t do it…”

  “You didn’t do it? You brought this on! This is your problem. All of this is your problem,” I say, waving around in front of me. “All of this is your fault, okay? Accept the blame and fix yourself. But don’t expect Max to be there when you’re better… when you figure out the person you’re supposed to be. He’s too good for you. He always has been. Always.”

  He stares at me and allows me to walk to the door with Max’s luggage. I open the door myself.

  “I hope I don’t see you anymore on this trip,” I tell him before slamming the door behind me.

  I stand just outside, trying to catch my breath. I’ve never talked to him that way before, and my heart is racing. Just before I start to walk away, I hear him talking.

  “Max, it’s me. You have to call me.” He starts sobbing on the phone, and I walk away. I will not feel sympathy for him.

  A couple hours later, Trey returns to the room, his nice shirt wrinkled and bloodied. I help him out of it–and his undershirt–and ask him how Max is.

  “Devastated.”

  “You got him another room?”

  “Dad made arrangements to get him flown to New York on a private jet tonight.”

  “He’s gone?”

  “Yeah. This place is no paradise to him. He just wanted to go home.”

  “I gave Callen a piece of my mind.”

  “I heard. I stopped by his room.”

  “You did?” He nods. “Why?”

  “To see where his head’s at.”

  “Do we care about that?”

  “I do.”

  9

  Max

  After days in the island heat, an unavoidable sunburn, and hours of crying, I’m dehydrated by the time I get to Jon and Livvy’s loft early Saturday morning. In the room next to the guest room, my two nieces are sound asleep in their respective cribs. Even after the absolute shit-day I had, I think I’ll probably sleep like a baby once my head hits a pillow.

  “Here,” Livvy whispers, tapping me on the shoulder. After handing me a glass of water, she puts her arms around me and hugs me for the third time since I walked in. “I love you, Max,” she says softly, “but wake them and die.”

  I laugh lightly and nod, walking back into the room they’re giving me for the night. I hear the door to the girls’ room click shut behind me. Both Liv and my brother follow me into the room.

  “You okay?” Jon asks as I plug in my cell phone, which had died sometime on the flight.

  “I think I have everything I need. Blanket, pillow. I’m good.”

  “Not about that, Mascot,” my sister-in-law says, taking a seat next to me on the bed.

  “Fuck him,” I mutter.

  Jon shakes his head, looking disappointed.

  “How could he?” Livvy asks.

  “Maybe he just can’t help himself,” I respond. “Maybe he’s always been this way and he’s just been on his best behavior for two years. Maybe this newfound freedom just allowed him to show his true colors. It’s probably best to find out now rather than after we get to California.”

  “You’re still going to Long Beach, though, right? You’re still going to college.” His second se
ntence is a statement.

  “Of course, I am, Jon.” I roll my eyes at any implication that I wouldn’t go. “Yeah, I picked a college in California because of him, but I loved the school when we toured. I’d pick it again without him… and, like, I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “Good,” he says, patting my shoulder.

  “I just mean it’s better that he cheats on me now, when I can find out, rather than when we’re away at school and he can do it behind my back… you know, when I’d be none the wiser, right?”

  “It’s just so out of character, you know?” Livvy asks.

  “He cheated on Brin.”

  “That’s different.”

  “That’s what Trey says, but it’s really not, is it?” I look between the two of them for an honest response. I get shrugs from both of them, but Jon finally says something.

  “He loves you, Max. He never had any feelings for Brinlee. I know that… that’s different.”

  “Well, whatever his motivation. He still cheated,” I assert.

  My phone rings loudly. I answer it quickly without even looking to see who’s calling, meeting Livvy’s severe glare and hoping Edie and Willow didn’t hear the profanity-laced rap song that’s my ringtone.

  “Hello?” I get ready to hang up on Callen.

  “Buddy? It’s Will. Are you okay?”

  “It’s Will,” I tell Jon and Livvy, covering up the mic. “Did you tell him?”

  They both shake their heads. “Take your pain pills. Get a good night’s sleep,” my oldest brother tells me on the way out. “Turn off your ringer.”

  “’kay.”

  “Where are you?” Will asks.

  “At the loft. I just got in a few minutes ago. Why?”

  “Are you doing all right?”

  “What do you know?”

  “I know, okay?”

  I sit in silence, angry. “Callen called you?” I always loved that Will and Callen had such a close relationship–until now. This can only be problematic going forward.

  “Yeah. He’s worried about you.”

  “Biggest lie of the millennium.”

  “It’s not, Max. How’s your hand?”

  “Cut up and bruised and it hurts pretty fucking bad.”

  “I bet it does. Did you get some good drugs for it?”

  “Well, they haven’t knocked me unconscious or made the pain Callen’s caused me go away, so I guess not,” I tell him sarcastically.

  “Why’d you punch a window, man?”

  “Because his face wasn’t anywhere near me.”

  “Max, you’re not typically the violent one. I’ve never known you to throw punches.”

  “Crimes of passion are real and alive, Will.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “Are you just going to go feed this intel back to him?”

  “Mascot, come on. I’m here for you. I’m always on your side, first and foremost. I just want to know what happened. I’m trying to put it all together. I won’t tell him anything you don’t want him to know.”

  “I don’t want him to even know we spoke,” I tell him. “I know I can’t keep you two from talking, but I want our conversations to stay between us. Got it?”

  “Understood. Thanks for understanding the position I’m in.”

  I still consider my response before I finally tell him. He’s the person I trust most in the world. “I walked back to a shower stall… and found his swim trunks on the floor with some other guy’s and I heard them fucking.”

  “So… you could have broken it up?”

  “Just seeing their feet was enough to enrage me, Will. Had I seen any more than that, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Well, I doubt you would have hit anyone,” he counters. “Crimes of passion happen in the moment… it would have happened right there. You’re not a fighter. You’re scrappy as hell. You talk a good game… but you care too much about him to hurt him. So, you hurt yourself instead.”

  “Don’t read into it,” I argue. “Like I said, he just wasn’t in my line of sight.”

  “Whatever, Mascot. I’m sorry you hurt yourself. You’re still gonna be able to play bass in the family band when we’re old and gray, though, right?”

  “If you ever come back and finish teaching me,” I say with a chuckle, then a sigh. “When are you back?”

  “Just two more months... I should be home that weekend before you go off to school. Jon and I were going to drive down with you guys.”

  The nagging lump that had been in my throat most of the day comes back at that thought. Callen and I had already rented a truck big enough for all of our things. The cross-country trek was our next big adventure together, and it was never going to happen now.

  “I’ll have to hire my own moving van or something. I don’t have much to move, anyway. It was mostly his shit.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll handle it all.”

  “Callen’ll have to drive all the way to California alone.” And just as I feel sad for him, I get angry again. “Fuck him.”

  “You guys will be leaving around the same time anyway. Maybe we’ll all go together, but separate–”

  “If you want to help him, Will, fuck you, too.”

  “Max, come on. Don’t be mad at me. If you don’t want that, it’ll just be the three of us. Maybe his parents can come back from Europe early to help him.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t. I can’t. I hate him,” I cry, unable to hold back the tears. “I hate what he did to me.”

  “Oh, Buddy,” he says. “I hate what he did to you, too. And since I don’t mind throwing a punch or two, I just might remind him to never, ever mess with my brother again the next time I see him. I just can’t do it in front of Shea, or she’ll kill me, and it can’t be any harder than I’d ever hit you or Jon.”

  “You gave Jon a black eye, remember?”

  “A black eye never killed anyone.” I smile and acknowledge his statement with a huff. “You just have to understand that you made me care for him like a brother, too, Max. I’m pissed as hell at him, but he’s still like family to me. We’ve been through too much.”

  “I told you, I’m not going to ask you to stop talking to him. I just don’t wanna know about it.”

  “I got it. And I’d never betray your trust, Mascot. I want you to know that. I respect you more than you’ll ever know. You’re being really grown up about this.”

  “Twenty-seven stitches grown up?” I ask him.

  “You damaged property and yourself. You didn’t involve any police. You’re considering everyone else’s feelings–even his. I’d say you’re being pretty fucking grown up.”

  “I miss you so much, Will.”

  “Man, I miss you, too, little brother. I’d give you a big hug if I was there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now do me a favor. Just take the prescribed dose only of whatever the doctors gave you. Okay?”

  “I’m pissed and I’m sad, but I’m not suicidal, Will. This is me we’re talking about.”

  “I know. Okay.”

  “I have to live to see you deck him.”

  He laughs loudly into the phone. “As long as you’ve got something to live for.”

  “I’ve got lots to live for, Will. Callen’s just not on that list anymore.”

  “Glad to hear you’ve got a long list, Mascot. I love you. Call me tomorrow night and let me know how much fucking pain you’re in. I’ll be the only one with strong enough sensibilities to withstand your language, trust me. It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker.”

  “I promise, I’ll call you. Love you, too, Will.”

  10

  Zaina

  After we finish eating dinner in our room, Trey pushes the food cart just outside our door. He saunters back in nervously, rubbing his hands together. “Thanks for understanding about tonight. I just didn’t feel like going out,” he says.

 
“No, I get it. I feel kind of… sad, too.”

  “I don’t know what I feel.” He sits down next to me and takes my hand. “I was so sure about them, you know? How do you go through so much shit together and end up like they did? With Callen cheating? With them breaking up?”

  “It’s not going to happen to us, Tria, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No.” He looks up at me and smiles. “I’m not worried about that. I know we’re good together. Right?”

  “Definitely,” I assert.

  “Definitely.” Leaning down, he kisses me sweetly. “If you’ve changed your mind–”

  “I haven’t. Have you?”

  There’s no verbal response, just a hint of a smile as he searches my eyes and moves in to kiss me again. His hand caresses my face and pushes my hair behind my ear. The insides of my body feel singed with heat. “Can I get you anything? Or do anything for you?”

  “I’m good,” I tell him.

  “A massage?”

  I consider his offer, then nod my head. “Ummm… I’ll go put on something more comfortable.”

  “I’ll do the same.”

  I dig deep into the drawer and find the deep purple lingerie I’d been saving all week. It’s my favorite ensemble that I brought with me; the dark fabric is dramatically lined with delicate white lace and has sweet, braided straps that hang loosely from my shoulders. It’s definitely the least-fussiest thing I have to wear… the easiest thing to put on and take off.

  This is really going to happen.

  I take a deep breath, thinking back to earlier today. I don’t allow myself to think of the pain. Every woman who’s been through this has experienced the pain and lived to tell about it. It’s just a tiny bump in the road. We’re going to listen to my music, and tell each other how we feel about one another, and make each other feel… extraordinary. I’ll be focused on romance and love and I’ll be caught up in the moment, like it’s supposed to be. It’s going to be the best night of our lives.