17
Juno
When I wake up, I’m surprised not to find Malcolm’s arms around me. I remember falling asleep with him in his bed after all of that perfection, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
“Mal?”
No answer. Maybe he’s in the shower. I need one too. I have a lot of studying to do today, and a shower will help me focus. And if I run into Malcolm in the bathroom, I don’t have a problem with that either.
I grab my robe and duck across the hall to grab my shower stuff, but he’s not there either. Huh. Okay. I get through my own shower quickly, and send him a text asking where he is. There’s also a text from Bailey asking for a make-up dinner tonight. Hell yes.
Grabbing a snack from the kitchen, I don’t see Malcolm anywhere. Casey is in the living room though. “Have you seen Mal?”
“He went out a while ago, but not since.”
“Thanks.”
There’s no response on my phone, but maybe he had something to do that I didn’t know about. It’s okay. If he were here, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him, and I need to study. So I dive into my books, and I don’t come up for air for a few hours, and when a few more hours have passed, there’s still no sign of him.
Hey, are you okay?
I send the text, but there’s still nothing. Just my questions standing out at the bottom like sore thumbs. Malcolm has never been one of those guys that doesn’t respond to text messages. He’s always very on top of it. So the silence is…strange. But I’m sure there’s a reason for it.
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about Malcolm, it’s that he never does anything without a reason. He’ll tell me about it when he gets back.
But when I leave the house for dinner with Bailey, and I still haven’t seen him, I can’t help but be a little worried. I send him one more text asking for any sign that he’s you know, alive, before I meet up with Bailey.
This time we don’t go to the dining hall, but a café just off campus—and not too far from the house—that has really good food.
When Bailey arrives I give her a hug. “I’m not going to lie,” I say. “I’m starving and kind of want to eat the biggest omelet that they serve.”
“An omelet sounds amazing right now,” she agrees.
“How was your study group?”
She sighs. “Fine. Boring as hell.”
I laugh. “Not a good class?”
We sit together in a booth by the window. “It’s a fine class, just…none of this is what I thought it would be.”
“Pre-law?”
Bailey makes a face. “Yeah. I guess I just thought that it would be more fun. I love learning legalese and I love tangling people up in arguments. And I like the idea of making a difference. But so far what I’m learning is that ninety percent of lawyers do really boring shit. And the minutiae of everything you have to learn to do that really boring shit is just a lot.”
“That’s fair,” I tell her. “Do you think you’re going to stop or change majors?”
She shakes her head as a waitress drops off menus. “I really don’t know. It’s a little late to change for this semester at least. I could drop the classes and pick up new ones, but I’d be so far behind in those classes that it’s not worth it.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I’m sorry you’re not liking it.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get used to it. Maybe I’m just tired. We’ve got a big project due next week. First big thing, and maybe that’s what’s got me stressed out.”
I scan the menu. They do have omelets. That’s exactly what I’m getting. “Are you sure that you have the time to be here?”
She grins. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’m so sorry that I left you with Taylor last night. I had no idea that they would switch things up so much last minute.”
“It was fine,” I shrug. “We honestly didn’t talk that much.”
Bailey snorts. “No shock there.”
I blink at her. “What?”
She smiles as the waitress comes back with water and takes our order. I wait until she leaves to look at my friend expectantly. She makes a face like I’m missing the point. “I just meant that it’s not exactly a secret that you and Taylor don’t like each other. It’s amazing that you still hang out at all.”
A little wave of shock rolls through me. “I don’t have any problem with Taylor. We don’t have that much in common, but I’ve never hated her or anything.”
Bailey freezes, and her eyes go wide. “Shit.”
“Something you need to tell me, Bai?”
“Ummm…no?”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of water. “Just spill. Nothing about Taylor would come as a shock to me at this point.”
She hesitates. “She basically hates you. I thought you knew and both just tolerated each other for my sake.”
“She hates me?” I say it way too loud and catch myself. “What did I do?”
“She thinks you ruined high school for her,” Bailey says. “Cause she got into such trouble after that party.”
Cold, brutal anger rises up. It always does when I think about that night. “You mean the party where people were drinking themselves so stupid that they could have died and she didn’t want to call anyone so that the party could be kept a secret?”
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah, well,” I hesitate. “I don’t particularly care if it makes me a bitch to say that she deserved that lockdown. Being grounded is not worth someone dying.”
“I agree with you,” she says, “but that’s her reasoning. She’s always held that against you, and she thinks that you look down on her for partying.”
I sigh. “I don’t look down on her. Some of the stuff that she does or did make me sad, but it’s her choice.”
Bailey shakes her head. “I don’t think that she knows about your aunt.”
“Not many people do.” I keep that story close to my chest for that reason. It’s deeply personal, and I don’t want my friends to think they can’t do things like drink around me. Just because I choose not to do something doesn’t mean that they can’t.
But that night, at that party, I could see that it was bad. That boy’s skin was turning grey, and he needed a hospital. I had to call the ambulance, or he was going to die. I knew it.
Taylor didn’t want me to. She begged me not to call the ambulance because her parents were out of town for the weekend, and if the ambulance came, then they would know. I called the ambulance anyway, and I don’t regret it. I should have done it sooner than I did.
I barely knew the kid. I think his name was John. I brought him flowers just so I could make sure that he was okay and going to live. I don’t care that he will never know that it was me, that wasn’t the point. Marcy was already gone, and at least I could save one person.
“In a way,” I say, “that night kind of solidified that I wanted to go into nutrition. I’d had the idea, but not the form of it. And everything I saw that night made me realize that people just don’t know what that will do to them. They don’t have a clue.”
“It makes sense,” Bailey says. “And I was actually wondering about that, dating Malcolm. He’s head of the biggest party house at the school. I was wondering if you’d changed your mind or something. Doesn’t it bother you?”
I think about it for a second. “I was worried about it at first,” I admit. “But I’ve never seen Malcolm drink, even if the other guys in the house do. Not once. And we usually hide away together during the parties.”
“Lucky you,” Bailey laughs.
“Yes, I would agree with you there.”
“Why were you even at that party? I never asked. Not really your scene.” Bailey says, taking a sip of water.
I roll my eyes. “I was there with Mike. That was the night I realized we really weren’t compatible.”
Bailey smirks. “I mean, we knew before that.”
“Yeah, but it was…really driven home that night.”
Our food is delivered
, and we dig in, conversation lapsing in the face of amazing food. “And you’re still cool with Taylor?” I ask.
“Mostly,” she says with a shrug. “We don’t hang out that much anymore. She’s constantly with Melody and the other Tri Deltas. Practically already a part of the sorority.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m really sorry, Juno. I thought you knew and were trying to make it work. There’s no reason for the three of us to hang out together if she’s just hating you.”
“I don’t want to make it weird for you.”
She makes a dismissive noise. “It’s going to sound brutal, but I really don’t care that much. If I’m going to preserve one of the friendships, then it’s going to be yours.”
I laugh. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
And that’s the way it goes. We catch up on all the things that we’ve missed while we’ve been buried in school, and she even manages to get more details out of me about Malcolm. But I don’t tell her about the way our relationship works. I’m not even ready to face that yet, let alone tell it to anyone. Even if that person is Bailey.
When we’re finished, I feel good. I’ve loved catching up with her, and we promise that we’re not going to let so much time pass again before hanging out.
Granite House is dark when I arrive. Which is strange. It’s not that late and it’s a Saturday night. Not only is it dark, it’s silent. Something is wrong. My gut knows it instantly. There’s still nothing on my phone from Malcolm, and this has something to do with it. What the hell is going on?
I enter the house and look around, but just like the outside, there’s no signs of life. A deep kind of terror and panic crawl up my throat. Did something bad happen? I need to talk to Mal, and I need him to tell me what’s happening and tell me that whatever it is is going to be fine. This isn’t nearly funny anymore.
Pulling out my phone, I call Malcolm, and I jump when his phone rings behind me. Down the hall. “Malcolm.”
I find him sitting on the stairs with a phone in his hand. There’s a glass bottle beside him, and when he speaks his voice is low and quiet like I’ve never heard before. “Here I am,” he says. “You found me.”
“Are you drunk?” I ask, rage suddenly filling me. I thought that he was different. That he understood who I was and what I stood for. Not once since I met him has he showed any interest in alcohol. Now this? Is there something darker that I don’t know about him?
He laughs. Dark and slow. “You know, Juno, I wish that I were drunk right now. I really do. But I keep my fucking promises, and so even though this bottle of whiskey is damn tempting, I’m stone cold sober.”
“Then what—”
“I’m tired. I’m pissed. I’m more miserable than I’ve ever been in my fucking life.”
I blink. What the fuck did I miss. “Oh my god, Malcolm, what happened?”
Taking a step forward he makes a sound that’s nearly a growl, and in the darkness surrounding the house, it’s terrifying. “Don’t you dare come closer to me,” he says. “You’re a fraud, and I wish that I had never met you.”
“What?” My head is spinning. I don’t have any idea what’s going on. Last night was perfect, and we haven’t spoken today. What changed? What happened? “I don’t understand.”
“You need to get out of this house, Juno.”
“Malcolm, please, talk to me. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Get. Out. Now.”
My heart is pounding and I’m dizzy. I feel like the ground is falling out from underneath me. “What about our deal. We agreed on a month. We’re not there yet.”
It’s a last-ditch effort to get him to tell me something, anything. But I already know that he won’t. Whatever this is, he’s decided.
“I don’t want you here. Anywhere near me.”
“Where do you want me to go, Malcolm? You brought me here. You forced me to give up my place on campus so that I would be yours. Your little toy. And now that you’ve gotten tired of me, you just want to throw me out onto the street?”
“I made a mistake,” he says, and he does sound tired. Exhausted. And in spite of the fact that he’s ripping out my heart, I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him. “I never should have let you into this house. You are nothing.”
The words take the air from my lungs.
Malcolm’s shoulders sag. “You can stay until you find a place to stay, but you have to get the hell out.”
Tears flood my eyes, it all hitting me at once. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” I say. I can’t walk past him and up to my room where we’ve spent time together. I can’t do it. I turn and walk out of the house into the night, and there’s only one place that I can think to go.
I can’t stop crying, and when Bailey opens her door, I’m a mess. She doesn’t even hesitate before pulling me inside and wrapping me in the tightest of hugs.
18
Juno
I don’t speak for a long time. I can only cry, and to her credit, Bailey doesn’t push me for the details of what happened. It’s not even clear to me what happened. All of a sudden everything that I thought was so sure is gone, and I have no fucking clue why. What the fuck?
When I can finally take a breath without moaning in agony, Bailey hands me a glass of water. “What the fuck happened in the last hour?” she asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Juno, I love you, but you’ve got to help me out here.”
I swallow. “I went home and the whole house was dark. I thought it was weird, so I called Malcolm and he was there. Alone. He kicked me out of the house. Said some terrible things about me being a fraud and that he couldn’t believe that he’d ever let someone like me into his life. I don’t understand what I did. And he wouldn’t tell me.”
“He just kicked you out?” she gasps.
“I mean,” I sniff, “he said I could stay there until I found a new room, but I couldn’t stay there and have him look at me like that. What the fuck, Bailey?”
She stands. “Okay. We need ice cream and movies. Are you okay if I run to the store? Ten minutes max and then we’re going to have the best cliché break-up sleepover in the history of movies.”
I laugh once. “Sure, I guess.”
“Borrow some pajamas and be in them by the time that I get back. And drink that water.”
“Fine.” I don’t have the energy to argue with her. The second she leaves I crumble into tears again. Why do I feel this way? This is more than hurtful words. This feels like my soul has been separated from my body and is being smashed on the ground repeatedly.
But why?
The answer slams into me, and I don’t want to believe it. It’s the thing that Malcolm only hinted at but I tried to ignore it. That I cared about him. More than that. Impossibly, I started to fall in love with him. Already. I don’t think I tried to, it just happened.
We fell into each other like puzzle pieces, it was bound to happen. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. And he hinted about it too. He may have thought he loved me, and something changed.
That almost hurts more than the face that I loved him. The anger and loathing in his eyes, I can’t unsee it. I keep seeing that stare and heat piercing out of the dark and hearing the dark growl telling me to get out. That I’m nothing.
I pull myself up off the floor and follow Bailey’s instructions to borrow pajamas. We’re about the same size and we’ve shared clothes for years. I choose the comfiest things that I can find and finish the glass of water that she gave me.
My face is puffy and hot and tight from crying, and I’m still on the edge. The pain in my chest is a physical thing. Nothing will make it better. Not right now.
One of the best things about Bailey is that she’s a pillow queen. She’s always had an over-abundance of pillows and blankets in her room, so it’s easy for me to create a nest on the floor, leaning against the bed where I can see the TV that she’s set up. I’m not sure that I’m actually goi
ng to feel like watching anything, but even crying though a movie feels better than being alone.
This really wasn’t the way that that I had planned to spend my Saturday night. I never saw this coming.
The door opens. “Hey Bailey, can I borrow that lip gloss that I like?” And Taylor freezes when she sees me buried in a pile of blankets and pillows. “Oh, hey Juno.”
I see her take in my appearance, and she doesn’t react at all. It’s pretty obvious that I’m not in a good state. “You okay?”
“Fine, thanks,” is all I say, my voice raw and strained from crying. Now that I know what she really thinks of me, I’m not inclined to confide in her.
“You sure?”
I glare at her. “Maybe use those deductive skills you’re supposed have as a human, Taylor, and figure it out.”
She looks a little startled. “Okay, geeze. I was just asking.”
Bailey appears at that moment, and if I’ve never thanked my best friend for impeccable timing, I certainly will now. “Oh, hey, Taylor,” she says, moving past her into the room with two giant grocery bags. “You need something.”
“Came by to see if I could borrow that lip gloss that looks so good on me.”
Bailey looks her up and down. She’s clearly dressed to go out. Short skirt and skimpy, glittering top. Fuck me heels. She looks the way I looked when they dressed me to go to Granite House.
“Not tonight, Taylor.”
She pouts. “Come on. That shade of peach goes perfectly with this outfit.”
“It’s lip gloss, Taylor. You’re going to let some guy suck it off your lips anyway. So please, get out.”
She takes a step back like she’s been slapped. “Jesus, Bailey. It’s not like I asked for your first-born child. Just a favor. But if that’s so fucking hard for you, I’ll just go.”
Neither of us say anything as she leaves.
“Not going to lie,” Bailey says, “that felt really fucking good.”
“I’m glad.”
She sits down next to me and starts unpacking the bags, which have a truly unfathomable amount of chocolate, ice cream, and soda. As well as face masks, some nail polish, and a DVD. “I thought about it after I left you at dinner, and I’ve kind of been sick of Taylor’s shit for a long time. And now that everything’s out in the open, I’m not going to tolerate it anymore. She knows the brand and the color of that stupid lip gloss, so she can buy her own. But she comes here every weekend asking to borrow it.” Bailey sighs. “A stupid thing to be the last straw, maybe. But it was the last straw.”
Living at the Frat House Page 13