"I can do it for you."
"No, I have to do it. Buy a box of cookies and only eat one." She turns her gaze to me, studying me.
She's watching for a sign I can't handle this.
"Let's do it."
I offer my hand. She nods, wiping her palms on her dress and wrapping her fingers around mine. She squeezes tight.
"You can do this," I say.
She nods. "Let's not talk about it too much."
I let her take the lead. We change our direction and move towards the store. It's a natural foods store, the kind of yippie place Samantha and her future Tesla-owning husband would love.
The automatic doors slide open and we step inside. Everything in the store is white and bright and the aisles are cramped. Alyssa wanders around the aisles, squeezing my hand tighter and tighter.
She stares at a shelf of chips like she doesn't understand it.
"Ally..."
"I'm fine." She turns quickly, moving to the next aisle. There's still a look of dread on her face. Like she's about to jump off a bridge.
"You sure?"
"The constant questions don't help."
She panicked last time. It was her thoughts tricking her and telling her she's a failure. I can't let her go down that road. Sure, I can't shrink myself and jump into her brain, but I can keep her attention here.
"You never told me which of your high school parts was your favorite," I say.
"You're so obvious."
"Still, not many high school students get to play two Shakespearean heroines."
She scans the next aisle, stopping at a row of cookies. "Abridged Hamlet cuts out all of Ophelia's best lines."
"Oh yeah?"
She turns her eyes towards me, shaking her head like I'm ridiculous. But she smiles. "There's this great exchange between her and Hamlet where he asks if he can lay in her lap and she says no. But he corrects himself--he means his head upon her lap."
"Yeah?"
"Without the oral sex jokes she's just Hamlet's crazy girlfriend. Kills herself for no reason." Her attention turns back to the shelf. She picks up a box of sugar cookies and hugs it to her chest. "Of course, Juliet isn't really any better. She also kills herself over her boyfriend."
"So it's The Crucible then?"
She nods. "Abigail is a badass bitch. She starts all kinds of shit." She laughs and her eyes find mine. "Thanks."
"No, thank you for the free British literature lesson."
"The Crucible is American."
"Two lessons in one. How could I get so lucky?"
She presses her hand against my chest, pushing gently. "You better watch what you say."
"I wouldn't want to insult a depressing play."
"Ha ha." She smiles.
A bit of tension releases. Then her eyes turn to the box of cookies in her hand and all the joy drops off her face.
"You want to get home?" I ask.
She nods.
She's white as a ghost at the checkout. And she stays quiet the entire walk back to my place. It's not until we're inside that she finally looks at me.
Her eyes are wide. Anxious. "This isn't going to be easy."
I nod.
"I might get upset. I might yell at you or try and run off. But it's not personal."
Her eyes connect with mine. She's still so scared, but I'm going to do whatever I can to help her.
"Do you want to talk about it at all?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Let's just do it."
"How does it work?"
"I eat the cookie. It sounds so simple, but it's not."
She's already starting to freak out. I can see it on her face. I reach for her, but she's receding further and further into herself.
"Ally, you need to try and stay here with me, okay?"
She nods. "I'll try."
She sits at the kitchen table, a serious look on her face. Those thoughts of hers are lying to her again, telling her she's a failure, telling her she's not good enough.
"I love you," I tell her. "No matter what."
I place the box on the table and sit across from her. She stares at it like it's something horrible.
"I can't do it." She presses her fingernails into her palm.
"Why not?"
"I'll be a pathetic failure if I eat one of those stupid fucking cookies. I can't do it." Her eyes are glued to the box. "But I have to. It's too exhausting to stay like this."
She looks to me for confirmation. I nod. We can get through this together.
She opens the box and pulls out the plastic tray. There are a dozen tiny cookies in it. She stares at them, studying them carefully.
"How many do you want?" I ask.
"Two." She swallows hard.
I take two cookies from the plastic and place them on the table.
Her eyes stay on the tray. "Can you put those somewhere else? Somewhere really tall that I can't reach."
"Of course." I repack the box and stuff it in on top of one of the cabinets.
She fidgets. She picks up one cookie and inhales its scent. There's something on her face, a look of wonder, like she can't believe she's actually smelling a cookie.
It's probably been years since she's had one.
She looks to me. It's a should I? kind of look. I nod and she turns her attention back to the pastry.
She takes the first bite. It's a tiny one, and she spends forever chewing. She keeps her eyes on the plate. She pulls her hand back, breaks the cookie in half.
She takes another bite.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah." She stares at the treat like it mystifies her, like it's a paradox, something that shouldn't exist.
She takes another bite. I offer my hand again, but she ignores it. Something is different about her. She's pulling away, drifting to some other place. It's in her eyes--she's not there. She moves faster, almost frenzied. I try to keep my mouth shut. This could be part of the process. But it doesn't seem normal.
"Ally, Ally..."
She eats the last bite and looks at her empty hands. She's mystified by them, like she doesn't know where the cookie went.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She snaps out of whatever it is. "Yeah."
"You seem lost."
"I'm fine." She won't hold my gaze. She's somewhere else, closing off.
I lean closer. "Talk to me."
"I don't want to."
"You can't keep this bottled inside you."
"The whole point of the exercise is to keep everything inside me. That's why you're here."
"Don't be glib."
"I'll be however the fuck I want."
"Okay." I can't let my feelings get in the way. "Be however you want."
"I can't have done this, Luke. I need to fix it."
"How?"
"I have to get rid of it."
"Why?"
She stares out the window, at the bright light falling over the backyard. "Because..."
"Because why?"
She presses her fingers together with a sigh. "Because I do. I can't explain it, but it's so obvious. I'm not allowed to eat cookies. I can't have eaten it. And I can't sit here with this horrible feeling of fucking up again. I have to do something to fix it."
"You can."
She pushes off the table. "I'm sorry, Luke, but I can't talk right now. I have to... I can't think."
I grab her arm. "I only have one duty and it's babysitting. You can yell at me if you want. You can hit me. You can spend three hours describing Ryan's sexual prowess. But you are not going anywhere."
She shakes her head. "I can't stay here."
"So we'll go somewhere together."
She shakes her head. She's fighting it. She's drifting back to that other world, but she's fighting it. "Okay." She bites her lip. "Anywhere. Take me anywhere else."
I walk her to my car and I take Lincoln until it turns into Pacific Coast Highway, until we're far into the curves of Malibu. Alyssa is quiet the entire drive. Sh
e leans against the window hugging her seat belt. She takes my hand, but her grip is weak. She's still trapped in her head. And it's still lying to her.
I hate seeing her like this. I hate her being far away from me. I hate her hurting. But I have to focus on what she needs.
I park on the edge of the highway and walk her down to the beach. We sit on the sand, her attention still slipping away. She's a little calmer, but she's still not here.
I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. "I love you, Ally. No matter what."
She doesn't say anything, but she nods, and squeezes me tighter. We stay like that for a long time, our breath and heartbeats blending into the soft roar of waves crashing on the beach.
She calms slowly, attention returning to her face bit by bit. She's fighting her urge to pull away, fighting hard. I have to be careful. I can't push her. Not now. It would ruin everything.
She shakes her head, bringing her gaze to the sand. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"You'd probably be better off with someone normal."
"I don't care. I want you."
The sun sets over the horizon, a violent burst of red bleeding into the blue sky.
Alyssa shakes her head. "I took your entire afternoon."
"I'll tell you a million times if I have to. I'd rather be with you than be anywhere else."
"Okay." She looks to the ocean. Watches the waves pound the sand.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shakes her head. "Not right now. I'm still..."
"Processing?"
She nods.
"I'll be here as long as you need me. I promise."
"Even if I relapse and need to go back to treatment?"
I nod. "No matter what."
She turns her gaze back to me. There's so much need in her eyes. So much desperation. She's never had anyone to count on. Not like this.
I swallow the hurt that bubbles up in my chest. She won't have to feel like that anymore. She won't have to be alone anymore.
Her gaze shifts away again. She moves closer, enveloping me in the softest, sweetest hug. "Thank you."
"It's nothing."
She shakes her head. "It's everything."
CHAPTER TWENTY
It's late when we get home. Alyssa rejects my offer to make her dinner, instead insisting on attempting sleep. I cook something anyway and leave her portion in the fridge.
I don't bother trying to sleep. It would be impossible. Instead, I flip through channels. Nothing on TV can pull me from my thoughts. Alyssa is still hurting. I need to do more to take her pain away.
I have an email from Samantha. She's trying to secure a date for a move. She wants to know when I'll be able to clear the house. There's no request for a rush but there's another veiled threat. I need to get out of my parents' house and back to my life as soon as possible if I ever want to get better.
I'm dizzy again. But it's late, early really, and it was a long day. I know this food challenge is supposed to be a good thing, progress of some kind, but it feels like Alyssa is a million miles away.
It's almost eight when Alyssa wakes. The sun is already in the sky and it's casting a soft glow over the house.
She plops next to me, wrapping her arms around me.
I inhale the sensation of her--the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the feeling of calm she inspires in me.
She leans closer, her mouth hovering over my ear. "I know I'm a fucked up mess, but don't leave. Please don't leave."
"You're my mess."
She squeezes me tighter.
It would be nice, holding her so much in one day, if the circumstances were different. No, it's still nice. It still feels like home.
She shifts and brings her gaze to mine. "You're upset, aren't you?"
"Yes, but it has nothing to do with you."
"What is it?" she asks.
"Let's talk about it later."
She stares at the sliding doors. "Is it important?"
"Yeah," I say. "But we're both tired, and it can wait until after you've had five lattes and I've had five cups of tea."
"What is it?" she asks. She looks at me sincerely. Like she's all the way back here.
"We can talk about it later."
Light streams through those sliding doors, bringing soft highlights to her face. "Why are you the only one who ever gets to have any secrets?"
"Ally, it's not like that."
"Okay. What is it like?"
She looks so sad and small. No, that's not quite it. She's tired. Exhausted. She's got no reserves left. No fight left.
I can't unload this on her now. She needs to rest.
"I'm too tired for this conversation," I say.
"That doesn't sound like you."
"I know, but it's something new I'm trying."
She looks me over. She's examining me. "You could tell me. Put me out of my misery."
"After coffee."
She shakes her head. "Don't make me torture you."
I smirk. "Torture me how?"
"I'll tie you to the dining room table."
"I'm liking it so far."
She folds her arms. "And drink all your tea while you watch helpless."
I laugh and all the tension in my back eases. She's trying.
"You win. That's much too horrible a fate." I bring my gaze back to hers. "Samantha wants to buy out my half of the house."
"What did you tell her?"
"That she could have it."
"Oh." Her gaze turns to the backyard.
"I'd rather not go to war over it. Before we started staying here, I didn't want anything to do with this place."
"Bad memories, right?"
"Yeah." I move closer to her. "If you want me to keep this place, I will. I'll call her right now and tell her she can't have it."
Alyssa shakes her head. "What do you want?"
"I promised it to her a long time ago," I say. "And she needs the stability."
"Do you do whatever she asks?"
"It's only a house."
She hugs her knees to her chest. "This time, it's a house. Last time, it was running off to be by her side for a week. Next time, who knows?"
"Ally, she tried to kill herself."
She shakes her head. Bites her fingernail. "And she milked that for as much as she could, didn't she?"
"It's not like that."
She sinks into the couch. "What the hell is it like then?"
"We're friends."
Her voice is low. Desperate. "No you aren't. Friends don't ask you to rearrange your life for them. They don't guilt you when you leave after a week by their side. Friends give as much as they take."
"She's going through a rough time. She can't help it."
Alyssa lets out a sigh. "And this rough time has lasted what--a year?"
"About that."
She pushes off the couch and moves towards the window. Her back is to me, like I'm the enemy.
"I trust you," she says. "But there's no way she only wants to be your friend. Not with this kind of attitude."
I push off the couch. "It's only a house."
Alyssa turns back to me for a minute. Her eyes are so sad, like she's about to cry. "Was it only a house when you offered me your spare room?"
"No."
"So it's only a house when you're giving it up to Samantha?"
I move to her. I wrap my arms around her waist. I rub her shoulders. "I can't fail her."
Alyssa shrugs her shoulders, pushing me away. She moves to the kitchen. "The sleeping pills again?"
"You say it like it means nothing that I left a bottle of sleeping pills next to the bed."
She turns her attention to the coffee machine. "You made a mistake. But do you really think things would have been different if you had left them in the medicine cabinet?"
"I knew she might take them. Deep down, I wanted her to take them."
We've talked about this before, but it was under vastly differen
t circumstances.
No, not vastly different. Before, there was space creeping up between us. And now space is creeping up between us again.
Alyssa takes a sharp breath. "Listen, Luke, I really, really don't want to devalue your feelings. You have every right to feel guilty, even though it wasn't your fault. But are you going to keep bending over backwards for her just because you made this one mistake?"
"It wasn't one mistake. I promised to be there for her and I failed."
"Does that mean you're in debt to her forever?" she asks.
"No. We're friends. I want to help her."
"Yes, and having friends is great. And it's normal for friends to sometimes be weird or needy. And it's also normal for her to sometimes ask too much or demand too much attention. But it happens constantly."
"We're normal friends."
Alyssa shakes her head. "You're not normal. I'm not going to be able to be patient if you're going to bullshit me."
"I'd never bullshit you."
She looks away, her hands curling into tight balls. "Things are so hard right now. Meetings, and press, and the show premiering. I need to feel like you're on my team."
"I am."
"What if you had to choose between us?"
"Ally--"
"No, just hypothetically. Gun to your head--would you rather be her friend or my boyfriend?"
"That's ridiculous."
"Still. Which would you choose?"
"Ally--"
She shakes her head. "I should go."
"I would choose you. I would choose you no matter what."
Her eyes connect with mine. She's upset, but she blinks it away. "I want to be supportive, but I can't watch you bend over backwards for someone you don't even like."
I know Samantha and I aren't normal friends. I know she's more than willing to take advantage of my generosity. But Samantha has never manipulated me. I help her because I want to help her. And I agreed to let her buy out my half of the house because it was the best option for both of us.
"Why don't you meet her," I say.
"I'm going home."
I move towards her. "Stay. We can look for a new place online. Hell, we can visit real estate listings."
"So in six months I'll be the ex-girlfriend who won't let go of her half of your house?" She returns to fixing coffee. "I have a callback Monday. I don't have the energy for this."
"I'm not letting you leave until you eat something."
She turns the coffee maker on. "Fine."
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