the Art of Breaking Up

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “There was a look!” she insisted. “It was a proper look. Like heart-strings tugging and sad love songs playing and tears for what could have been forming…”

  I suddenly felt all those things. I was just grateful she hadn’t burst into any of those sad love songs.

  I took a shaky breath. “Remember that friends with benefits situation?” I asked, hearing the waver in my voice.

  Lisa’s eyebrows narrowed in thought.

  I swallowed and kicked my head after Wade, despite the fact he’d well and truly disappeared, and shrugged apologetically.

  Lisa’s eyes popped wide open. “Let me get this straight. Your friends with benefits was Wade? Wade Phillips. My ex-boyfriend, Wade.”

  “Yes. But I ended it. It was him or you.”

  “You picked me?”

  “Of course, I did.”

  She frowned. “How much does he mean to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter if I’ll lose you.”

  “It matters, Norah. How much does he mean?”

  I swallowed hard. “Everything. He means everything, Lis. And I’m so sorry.”

  Lisa just looked at me for the longest time. I had no idea what was going through her head. Her face was expressionless.

  Deep down, I’d known this was coming. I’d seen my behaviour changing, I’d seen myself start to be a bad friend and told myself I had to be better or I’d lose her. I could tell myself all I liked that that was why I didn’t tell her about me and Wade; I was afraid to lose her, but too selfish to avoid the risk in the first place. It wasn’t just selfish, it was arrogant. Arrogant to assume that I could have my cake and eat it, too. Or whatever it was that French lady said.

  Maybe I felt I deserved it. Losing Lisa.

  A part of me thought I did.

  Like I didn’t want to be happy.

  Wade had called it self-sabotage. And he should know. If self-sabotage was a sport, he’d be the world champion by now. Or, maybe second only to me now.

  I didn’t care what it was called.

  It was far easier to push everything away and have nothing to lose. Far easier to have nothing good in your life to remind you how much the rest of it sucked. If it all sucked, the bad bits didn’t seem so bad.

  “I am sorry,” I said.

  Finally, she just nodded. “And he means everything?”

  I took a breath, preparing myself for what was coming. At this point, I wanted her to yell at me. I wanted her to be angry with me. I wanted to feel worse. I deserved to feel worse.

  I nodded, feeling like I’d bared my soul and admitted everything, and was about to be left with nothing.

  She didn’t yell.

  She didn’t get angry,

  She squealed.

  “Finally!” She squealed again, then slapped her hands over her mouth as her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God,” came her muffled words from behind her hands, then a muffled version of the previous squeal.

  I blinked. No words came.

  What?

  “Argh! Yay!” Lisa cried, throwing her arms in the air.

  What?

  Her smile fell, but she left her arms hanging mid-air. “Yay?”

  “What?”

  She dropped her arms and looked at me. “Not yay?”

  “What?” I repeated, a little more incredulously.

  Lisa huffed like she was running out of patience. “What, what?”

  I honestly had no idea what was happening right now.

  “You don’t…? You’re not…? Wait, what? You don’t mind?”

  Lisa’s frown was starting to become a smile again. “Mind? Why would I mind? I’ve only been trying to get you two together for the last…like two years.”

  Things were tugging on the edges of my mind. Thoughts. Realisations. Pieces falling into place.

  “I thought you were heartbroken when he dumped you?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Okay. For the last like eighteen months. Year. It’s been ages anyway!”

  Lightbulbs were flickering in my head. None were polite enough to stay on long enough for me to completely comprehend what was going on.

  “I thought we hated him…” I breathed.

  “Oh, honey,” Lisa said sweetly as she put her arms around me. She pushed me to arms’ length and aimed a huge smile at me. “You didn’t?”

  I nodded. “I did. I thought we hated him because he was a total dick to you?”

  “Oh, Norah,” she chuckled. “I never knew why you were such a dick to him.” She breathed out, “It all makes sense now.”

  “What? No, it doesn’t.”

  She nodded. “It does. You hated him because of me.”

  I conceded that. “Okay. Maybe it does make sense.” I frowned. “No. You rejected Matt because of Wade.”

  Lisa also frowned. “What? When?”

  “Last term when he asked you out. You said you weren’t ready for a relationship.”

  Lisa nodded slowly, like she was waiting for me to catch up. “Yeah. Because, after Wade, I realised I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I feel too young, too free. I didn’t want a man tying me down.”

  I had so many questions. And comments. And questions. I didn’t know what to say first.

  All those comments.

  She wasn’t still hung up on him.

  She’d been trying to get me to relax on him.

  She…

  Oh, damn.

  So many times, I thought she’d been pining over him… Had she guessed about him and me? Had she been trying to give me a way to open up to her? Had I read her inherent kind nature and desire for spreading happiness as something it totally wasn’t this whole time? What in the hell else had I got so glaringly wrong?

  Luckily, she kept talking and I didn’t have to try to piece together a coherent sentence.

  “Oh, my God!” Lisa squealed. “Your secret admirer! Your birthday flowers. That was Wade!”

  I nodded.

  “Shit. He really likes you.”

  My eyes went hot. “It doesn’t matter. I fucked up.”

  She, of course, knew what that meant based on my word choices.

  “Oof. That sounds bad. Irreparable?” she asked.

  Tears welled, ignoring my attempt to sniff them away. I shrugged. “I think so?” I half-chuckled, feeling foolish for tearing up in the school corridor. If I didn’t try laughing, I really would cry.

  “Oh, hun!” Lisa cried. She rubbed her thumb under my eye. “What can we do?”

  I took a deep breath. “I need all the ice cream and chocolate.”

  She nodded. “Done.” Another frown. “Wait a minute. Did you try to set me up with Matt just because you felt guilty about Wade?”

  I paused before I nodded. “I did do that.”

  She grinned. “You scheming little genius.”

  “Genius?”

  She nodded. “Maybe I was a little hasty in rejecting him.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Maybe.”

  Look, after everything. I was going to take that.

  e

  Lisa and I had spent a good number of hours at Maccas after school that day, just gorging ourselves on soft serve, hot fudge sauce, and fries. She’d even managed to wangle extra sauce from the cashier who took pity on me for my boy problems.

  In her words, “Bloody useless, the lot of them.”

  So, I got home late, after not planning to be late home at all.

  Mum was in her study. Dad was in the living room. Koby was in the kitchen.

  Soon, we were all in the kitchen.

  “What time do you call this?” Mum asked.

  “It’s Friday night, Elise,” Dad said.

  “You could have at least messaged!” Mum said.

  “It’s not like she’d be out partying,” Dad said.

  Koby was watching the exchange as he got himself a snack.

  Mum turned to Dad. “Do you care that our daughte
r was missing for a few hours? Or were you happy wondering if the police were about to call?”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “This is Norah we’re talking about. It’s hardly past her curfew. Had she been missing, it would have been six hours at most. I can’t–”

  “No, Owen,” Mum huffed. “I can’t. We have rules in place for a purpose. Is it too much to ask people message when they’re not where they’re supposed to be?”

  “She wasn’t supposed to be home,” Dad replied. “She’s well within her rights and habits to go to Maccas with Lisa after school. It’s not the first time.”

  “Since when does she–?”

  “The least you can do is pretend to be on the same page!” I yelled.

  Mum and Dad stopped fighting and looked at me.

  “What?” Mum asked as Dad laughed nervously, “We are.”

  “You’re not though, are you?” I asked.

  Koby poured milk into his bowl and leant against the counter to watch the events unfold.

  “What are you talking about?” Mum asked.

  “We’ve always been on the same page,” Dad said.

  “We might not always agree about the little stuff,” Mum added.

  “But we agree on the big stuff,” Dad finished.

  “Oh, you do?” I asked petulantly. “That’s brilliant to hear. Well, then why don’t you tell us all about the big stuff?”

  “Are you drunk?” Koby asked me as he shovelled food into his face.

  “Norah, what are you talking about?” Dad asked as Mum asked, “Are you drunk?”

  “I think it’s time we were honest with each other, don’t you?” I said.

  “Honest about what?” Dad asked.

  “I know. Okay?” I snapped. “I know.”

  Both Mum and Dad blinked at me. Koby was dribbling soggy cereal back into the bowl from the spoon suspended halfway to his open mouth.

  “I know about the divorce! I know about the one last family Christmas! I know about it all!” I yelled.

  “The what?” Koby asked, dribbling cereal and milk down his front. He fairly threw his bowl on the counter behind him and stood up like he was accusing them of something.

  Mum and Dad looked at us both like they didn’t know what to address first.

  “Your mother and I…” Dad started.

  I could feel the bullshit coming. They were going to try to hide it. Would they really be so bold as to lie right to our faces like that?

  Mum put a hand on his arm. They looked into each other’s eyes and nodded before turning back to Koby and me.

  “We’re…just not happy together anymore,” Mum finished.

  “It’s no one’s fault,” Dad added quickly, looking and sounding defeated. “We just…”

  “Fell out of love,” Mum said.

  I felt the tears, hot and heavy, welling in my eyes. Koby looked like he’d been smacked well out of left field.

  “You what?” he asked, looking at me like it was my fault for saying anything. Like I’d made it happen by opening my mouth. Like if I’d left well enough alone then it wouldn’t be true. How I wished that was how it worked.

  Mum and Dad shrugged. I saw Dad take a breath like he was holding back tears as well. Mum was trying equally hard, but succeeding about as well as I was.

  “We still love you both very much,” Mum said.

  “We love each other,” Dad said.

  “We’re just not in love with each other anymore…” Mum said.

  I sniffed, but the first tear rolled down my face anyway.

  “Oh, honey,” Mum said and I rushed over to them.

  They both wrapped me up in their arms.

  “Come on, mate,” Dad said in a stoic but wavering voice, waving an arm at Koby.

  He joined in and we stood in a family hug for a long time. Slowly the tears dried and I felt better. There was less restlessness in me. I was willing to hear them out, to talk about it properly and calmly.

  “Why don’t we sit?” Dad said and ushered us all into the living room.

  Koby and I sat on one couch. Mum and Dad sat on the other. It was the first time I’d seen them sit on the same couch in months. They looked at each other and smiled softly. Already, there was less tension in the house. It was as though just voicing it aloud, just admitting it, had eased their burden. Just like when I’d told Wade. It felt like maybe everything really was going to be okay.

  “What…?” Koby started. “When did…?” He took a deep breath, and looked up at them like he was a little lost. “What’s going to happen?”

  Mum took Dad’s hand and I could see the decision in them to do this together, to face this together. They both turned to Koby and me.

  “We were going to stick it out until Christmas,” Mum said. “It didn’t seem fair to disrupt Norah’s last year of school, and Christmas seemed like a nice…goodbye.”

  “But now you both know…” Dad started slowly.

  “You mean last year was our last family Christmas and we didn’t even know it?” Koby asked.

  Dad shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “Your father and I don’t hate each other,” Mum added.

  “We can still be civil. We can still be in the same room.”

  “Who’s to say we can’t all still be together for Christmases going forward?”

  “Who’s moving out?” I asked quietly.

  Mum and Dad shared a look.

  “We hadn’t really got that far yet,” Dad admitted.

  I nodded. “But someone will?”

  Mum nodded. “Probably.” She looked to Dad as though seeing if he’d agree and he nodded as well.

  “Probably,” he agreed.

  “What about me and Norah?” Koby asked.

  “Will we have to split time between you?” I asked.

  “You’re both adults now,” Mum said. “You can do what you like.”

  “Is that why you waited?” I asked, thinking it made sense not to have to deal with any custody arrangements.

  Dad nodded. “One of them.”

  “Can I move into my own place?” Koby asked.

  “Who’s paying for it?” Mum asked with a smirk.

  Koby shrugged and pointed between them. “If you guys are divorced, don’t I get to play you off each other and get cool shit?”

  I whacked him, but we all laughed. It felt good to really laugh again, even at something a little dark.

  We all had questions for each other, and talked late into the night. We paused to order midnight pizzas, but otherwise just had a really open and productive conversation. I was almost glad for the months I’d had leading up to that moment. For Wade. It readied me to have the conversation and be willing to listen and try to understand what my parents were going through.

  Before we all went to bed, Dad moved into the spare room. Officially. No more sleeping on the couch and pretending he’d just ‘fallen asleep reading again’.

  By the next night, there was laughter in the house and it wasn’t forced. Mum and Dad had even danced together like old times.

  I saw it. I saw how much happier they were not having to pretend anymore. I saw that not all the change was going to be bad. Different, yes. But not bad. If they were going to be happier just as friends, then that’s what they should do.

  Wade had been right. It did suck, but they had to do what was right for them.

  Now, though, I could see that in my parents doing what was right for them, they’d be able to do what was right for me and Koby better than if they stayed unhappily together.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You know. I wondered,” Lisa said as she found me at our lockers on Monday morning.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “You and Wade.”

  Feeling better after my positive weekend on the parental front, I didn’t mind her bringing it up. I did wonder just how much she’d actually wondered, though.

  I lo
oked at her disbelievingly. “Did you?”

  She shook her head noncommittally. “Well. Hoped. I hoped you guys were getting over whatever it was and we could work on the future potential. That day he flirted with Tess?”

  “What about it?” I asked, somewhat wary of where this was going.

  “I kinda hoped the good thing was you.”

  Maybe there had been potential for it to be me. Potential I’d thrown away like an idiot.

  “And you didn’t want to say anything before?”

  She shrugged and grinned as she ducked away from my flailed hand. “Well, I kinda left it open for you. I was implying that whatever happened to him was good because I briefly entertained the notion it was you. When you didn’t say anything, I thought I must have made it up.”

  “I told him to flirt with someone because I thought you were getting all mushy over him again.”

  “Pfft,” she scoffed. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She nodded as well. “That explains your face.”

  “What about my face?”

  “It was so confusing. On one hand, you looked like you were jealous, but like sad jealous. Then on the other, you were your usual self. So, I was like ‘is she the good thing, or not’? You know?”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, well. Turns out, I was jealous. I was just too stupid to go after what I wanted.” I looked at her. “At least, I didn’t lose you. I don’t know what I would have done if I had.”

  She shrugged like she was telling me I’d been worrying unnecessarily. “You’re never losing me. I’m like a limpet. Did I care you hid it? Yes. Kind of. Not that much. Honestly, I’m just excited my master plan came to fruition all by itself.”

  “Wade and I were your master plan?”

  She nodded. “You were going to be my high school legacy–”

  “Not the million plays you starred in?”

  “–My shot at playing Cupid. You were going to make me my very own Emma. But I was getting worried it’d never happen. I mean, it all makes sense now though.”

  “What does?”

  “Of course you and Wade got close.”

  “What are you talking about?”