“Fine! I’ll do it. But you have to stay here with me. And the minute everything is cleared up, I’m goin’ to see Max.”
“Fine. God, you can be—urrghh!” Joanie growled.
“Difficult?” I interjected.
“No, such a pain in the ass!”
“Yeah, but you’re stuck with me,” I said before I pulled the bedroom door open.
I didn’t expect Nick to be sitting on the floor across the hall. He had his head resting low in his hands, his palms rotating back and forth against his eyes, and his fingers anchored just above his forehead, mingled with his hair. His arms flexed with every motion. He looked up at me, his eyes lost with what to say. He bolted up, standing far enough away to ask if he could come closer.
“Nick, can we talk?” I offered. My hand twisted the knob and let it go, over and over again, anything to keep rhythm to something other than the rapid beat of my heart.
Nick didn’t know what to do with his hands; he slid them up and down his jeans before pushing them into his front pockets as he waited to be invited in.
“Oh—hey there, Joanie,” he sang as he ambled into the bedroom, tossing a wave toward her.
“Hi, Nick,” Joanie answered.
Nick took a couple of fast breaths before he planted his sights on me. He looked concerned and forlorn.
“Everything okay? I mean—well, umm, as far as—umm, everything?” Nick asked, pressing his hands together before pushing them into his hair.
“Why didn’t you go to Frank’s funeral?” I interrupted his question with my own.
“Umm, well, I was here with you,” he breathed.
“Yeah, but Calvin texted you and wanted you to be there.”
“Calvin knew I wasn’t going to go, he was the one who suggested that I stay here with you.”
“Calvin told you to stay with me? Why?” I asked.
“He’s worried about you. He feels like total shit for what he did,” Nick said determinedly.
“Well I totally feel like shit too—I’m still a little freaked out that Cindy walked in on us making out,” I told him as I looked at the floor.
“Yeah, me too,” Nick sighed before he turned to Joanie. “I assume you know about—” he said as he swung his pointer finger back and forth between himself and me.
“Yeah, Wilson told me—everything,” Joanie said. She pulled her legs up, adjusting herself to sit cross-legged on my bed.
Nick’s cheeks, right below his eyes, burnt red while his ears followed suit. He didn’t have to tell me he was embarrassed by Joanie knowing about us kissing; it was written all over his face.
“She’s the only person I’ve told. I am not a kiss-and-tell type of person. Well, except with Joanie,” I claimed, trying to justify a reason for telling her.
“I don’t have a problem with kiss-and-tell; you don’t have to justify anything to me,” he said, low. His smoldering eyes traced me with an intrinsic passion.
Fuuuckkk—knock it off, Nick. Stop staring at me like that. I love Max; he is everything to me.
“Well, Nick, actually that’s what I want to talk about. I don’t think either of us—need—umm, want to have to justify ourselves—or what we did—to other people,” I fumbled for the right words as I grabbed at my forehead. “I mean, it would hurt a lot of people—”
“I get it, Wilson. You don’t want Max or his family to know… what happened last night.”
“Well, yeah, they’ve been through so much. I don’t want to hurt him even more. It was a mistake, a drunken mistake,” I said. It felt like a huge steel weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
I looked back at Joanie, her face white, as if the words I’d spoken were calloused and cold.
WHAT? I mouthed to her.
She mouthed something back but I couldn’t make it out. Her eyes narrowed and her face pinched red.
“Yeah, a mistake—look, I gotta go,” Nick mumbled before he turned away and left the room
.
Chapter Thirty-four
“Whoa, Wilson, that was so brutal, what you just said to Nick. I know I told you to clear the air between you, but I didn’t tell you to rip the guy’s heart out,” Joanie said as she walked up behind me and slapped me across my shoulder blade.
“Ouch! Geez, J. I thought I was supposed to be honest,” I replied as I tried to rub out the sting on my shoulder.
“Honest? Yes. Wicked? Not so much. You just basically told him he was nothing to you,” Joanie said.
“No I didn’t, all I said was, it was a mistake—”
“You said kissing him was a drunken mistake. There’s a pretty big difference. That’s like telling someone you have zero feelings for them. ZERO,” Joanie said, holding her fingers in the shape of a big fat zero.
“Well, that’s not what I meant to say—” I replayed the scene in my head.
“Yeah, but that’s how it came out,” Joanie said in a matter-of-fact tone.
I stood there, thinking about what she said…Shit. It did, didn’t it? I made him feel like crap. In my attempt to save face, I made Nick feel like he didn’t mean anything to me. That was so not my intention.
“I should go apologize,” I said as I pulled open the bedroom door and meandered out, ready to eat crow.
Joanie followed me down the stairs. With every step I took, I could feel the embarrassment of being such a bitch splash through my body. My lungs clung to any breath I had left to explain this total misunderstanding.
My feet hit the hardwood floor, and suddenly, I think my blood stopped circulating to my hands and feet. I stood at the base of the stairs.
“Go on, Wil,” Joanie whispered as she pushed against my back.
I turned and looked down through the doorways of the dining room and the living room and saw Nick’s feet propped up on the brown coffee table in the family room. This was going to be my opportunity to apologize for what I said. I looked back to Joanie, gave her a nod of my head, and turned to face his direction. Am I doing the best thing for both of us? Could I somehow be giving Nick false hope by going in there and apologizing for what I said?
“It’s the right thing to do. I’ll wait here and if it gets too intense, I’ll come in,” Joanie prodded, as if she had read the thoughts racing through my head. How does she do that?
I nodded and took the step that pushed me onto the next page of my journey. I made it to the corner of the sofa before Nick turned around and saw me. He pulled his earbuds out of his ears; his iPhone, balancing on his stomach, slid down into his lap as he sat up.
“Hey, how long were you standing there?”
“Just got here. Do you mind if I sit down?” I asked lightly.
“No, go ahead,” Nick mumbled back at me.
I came around to the front of the sofa and slipped through the space between the coffee table and his legs before I eased down next to him. An awkward moment hung between us.
“What are you listening to?” I asked, pointing to his iPhone; anything to wash away the thick space lingering around us.
“Rage Against the Machine.”
“Wow, they’re totally political,” I said.
“Yeah, well, they are my go to when I need to erase the day,” he said quietly.
“Well, what a coincidence. I need to erase something too,” I said before he glanced at me. “I want to apologize for what I said. And for acting like a total ass. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I shouldn’t have made you feel like all I care about is what happens over at Max—the Goldsteins’ place.”
He looked down at his iPhone, his hands busy with flipping it around in circles and dropping it in his lap every couple of spins.
“Okay,” he acknowledged me.
“That’s all you’re gonna say—okay?” I said as I snatched his phone.
“Hey—” he snapped. “Give that back to me. If you know what’s good for you,” he said as leaned over and pressed his chest against my body before clutching my wrists.
“Good for me,
huh? What do you have to hide?” I said as I broke the hold he had around my wrists and tried to slide the lock on the screen.
“That’s not me. I don’t have anything to hide,” he said as he planted his hand in the cushion behind my head. He leaned in, close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin and whispered, “…especially if it leads to being tortured later,” then grabbed his phone and swayed back to stand up.
I swallowed the burn of his words as I spoke, “Okay, Nick, I deserved that. But that means we’re even now.” I sighed as I stuck my hand out.
“Really? You wanna shake hands?” Nick teased.
“I want you to help me up.” I wiggled my fingers and added, “But that’s not a bad idea; let’s shake on being friends.”
“I’m not shaking on being your friend,” he grumbled.
“Well, what do I have to do to redeem our friendship?” I asked.
“There’s nothing to redeem, we’re all good,” he said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a hug.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Wilson, give the guy a break,” Joanie screeched as she meandered in, pulling me out of Nick’s arms.
“Hey, J, what took you so long?” I asked as I plopped back down on the sofa.
“I found the liquor storehouse. Holy crap, it’s a drunk guy’s wet dream, in there,” Joanie roared.
“My parents don’t understand moderation when it comes to alcohol. Conservatism isn’t one of their strong points,” Nick smiled at Joanie. She laughed.
“Well, obviously my best buddy here doesn’t either. Pick your poison…” Joanie winked as she held out her hand to me and pulled me up.
“That would be rum and vodka,” Nick blurted out as he sat on the arm of the chair next to the sofa.
“Yeah, well it would be mine too,” Joanie said, shifting her body to face him and leaning her head to one side. Her dark brown hair swayed as the sunlight beamed and danced across the strands. She caught the end of her hair and twisted it around her finger. Nick took notice.
“So, you’re a lightweight like Wilson?” he replied as he made eye contact with her before lowering his head to look at his phone. I can’t believe this…they’re flirting right in front of me. I felt my heart speed and my scalp tingle. Oh my God—I feel…jealous.
“Pretty much. Hang with fishes, you’re gonna drink like one,” Joanie responded as she tapped me across the shoulder, knocking me out of that space in my head where I didn’t want to go.
“Yeah, well, four martinis at your father’s country club last year proved I don’t belong swimmin’ with the big fish,” I said
“Definitely not,” Joanie chuckled. Nick peeked up from his phone at her. With his legs crossed at the ankles, all I had to do was give a little push and he would have tumbled over.
“Hello?” a voice echoed through the house.
“In the family room,” Nick shouted.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Nick answered as he stood up, slipped his phone in his pocket and started walking into the foyer.
I looked over at Joanie then back at Nick. The last thing I needed was Cindy coming in here spewing about more intimate moments she had with Max, comforting him.
“It didn’t sound like Cindy,” Joanie said.
Joanie and I started toward the foyer when I heard a female voice float through the room with a nervous excuse for just walking into the house after she had knocked for several minutes. Nick responded with words that comforted her insecurities before he came back.
“Look who’s here,” he announced.
Nick’s eyes told me it was someone totally unexpected. My heart fell down into my gut in disbelief. It was the last person I would expect to show up at the Browlers’ place. Camille walked in, her eyes glossy and swollen with red, burnt edges; her velvety brown hair pulled back off her face. Any words I wanted to say got tangled up in the big gulp I took when I saw her.
She forced a smile before her mouth dropped back to the seriousness of her day. My body trembled, rippling from my core out to my skin. She was here; away from her family…away from Max.
“Oh my God,” I whispered, “Camille, how are you? How is your family?” I continued. The last thing I wanted to do was say the wrong thing.
She looked over at Joanie and then Nick before she turned back to me. She appeared to be struggling, unable to choke out any words.
“I’m so sorry,” I moaned.
She stood there, devastated and unable to speak, before she snapped her head up and shook away any possibility of losing it.
“I’m trying,” she said as her breath hitched. “Max, isn’t—” she stopped, her eyes welled with tears.
My whole body was hit with a massive chill that culminated at the base of my head and ran down my spine. What was she going to say about Max?
“Trying?” I blurted out to fill the arduous pause.
Camille’s expression turned to shock. Son of a bitch, I might as well open my mouth and insert my foot now.
“Max isn’t okay. And I’m really scared,” she uttered as she plopped down on the sofa.
“What? Wait, what?” I asked. Suddenly, Camille and I were the only two people in the room. I had to get every bit of information about Max I could. I kneeled in front of her, my hands on her knees. Her sullen eyes met mine; I saw how devastated she was.
“I’m scared and I couldn’t think of any other place to go…” Camille stopped and took a huge breath, like she was about to pummel me for leaving. “Do you think we can talk in private?” she asked, glancing at all of us.
Joanie shot me a look. I knew she’d leave if I asked her to, but I didn’t want her to. She was my rock.
“Anything you have to say…you can say in front of Joanie. She’s my best friend, and besides, she knows everything about Max.” My skin dampened as I blushed, and the cool breeze forced goose bumps through my body.
I looked over at Nick and Joanie before I turned back to Camille.
Nick cleared his throat and said, “I’m gonna leave you ladies to talk.”
“Thanks,” I whispered as he passed by and headed upstairs. Part of me wanted to go with him. To be somewhere else, anywhere but in this moment. But I needed to find out more about Max; more than the fact that he was a wreck. We were all wrecks for that matter, but there was something more Camille wasn’t willing to say in front of Nick.
Camille watched as he disappeared upstairs. “I haven’t seen Max this bad since—” she broke off, her knees bounced double-time and an uncomfortable pause grew around us.
“Since?” I finally asked. My hands rushed hot as her bouncing knees sent motion rippling up through my arms.
“Mallory,” she said in a low voice.
Every ounce of color fell out of my face. Any blood that was circulating through my veins stopped. I wasn’t expecting her to bring up dead Mallory.
“Oh,” I gasped.
“When she killed herself, she stole a part of my brother—a part we thought we’d lost forever until we saw him with you and how happy you made him,” she swallowed.
I felt the heat of Joanie’s hand building circles against my back.
“But he just lost his father,” I added softly.
“…And now he’s losing you. He won’t eat, he’s so angry inside, and he won’t listen to anyone. He’s spiraling so quickly. Wilson, I’m scared,” her voice trailed off.
My heart fissured listening to her tell me about Max. His life was crumbling in the wake of my fear to stay and strive for what we were. I thought about how close Max was to Nancy.
“He’s this way with your mom too?” I asked, shifting back and forth on my knees.
“Everyone,” she said, exaggerating the word.
I couldn’t help but flash back to the moment Nancy told Max that he couldn’t see me anymore. How she sounded so disappointed in us. The rejection that coursed through my entire body gripped me like I was right back on those stairs again. I dropped back on my fee
t, my toes bending forward. I felt the muscles pull and stretch from the soles of my feet all the way up through my calves. Even though I’d been hurt by Nancy’s words, part of me still wanted to ask how she was doing. Through all the anguish, she still mattered to me.
“Wilson…Max has shut down to all of us. My mom has lost so much, I don’t think she could take losing Max…all over again. That would be the crushing blow for her, for me…for our entire family,” Camille caught her breath on the last couple of words.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Come back to him. He needs you. Please, if you’ve ever truly loved him…” she said as her eyes begged for an answer. These were her last pleas before she would have to give up on believing I might be the last resort to save her brother.
Every single inch of my body ached to know about Max. But how could I go back to him? I would never be able to change the fact that I kissed Nick and I lied to Max’s family.
Camille watched my reaction hurl throughout my body. My breath hung on every word she said; each sound she made rang painfully in my ears. My eyes filled with tears for the strung together words I had to say.
“I’m sorry—I can’t,” my voice cracked, and every little morsel of strength I had melted with my response.
Camille’s face blanched white. “Why can’t you?”
“It’s bigger than just what’s between me and Max.”
“I don’t believe that. He loves you…you love him. What more is there?” Camille asked. A pressure built against my chest and through my lungs.
“Nancy,” I blurted. Camille stood silent for a moment; her feisty desire to convince me to go to Max softened.
“My mom’s the one who sent me,” her voice shook as if it was her last weapon available to her.
I stood speechless, unable to answer. There was no way Nancy would have sent her. Not after the words she said to Max while I was on the stairs. How can I ever face Max’s mom again? She’ll be disappointed in me and I can’t take that. I just can’t. I stared at the floor trying to muster up the strength to go to Max when Camille turned on her heels and headed for the front door. I felt her desperation snatch my heart and drag it along the cold, hardwood floor. She gripped the knob, pausing a moment as she looked back at me.
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