by Hart, Rebel
I shrugged. “Wouldn't he want to come to college with me if he did?”
“Not necessarily. We all know school isn’t Clint’s thing. He talked all the time about sticking around home. At least for a little bit. It wasn’t like it came as a surprise.”
“I guess I was hoping he’d change his mind and come with me.”
“Can’t he come with you and still not do school?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. He doesn’t make it seem like that. He says he’s got responsibilities to his stepmom. Helping her stay afloat after the divorce and all.”
“And you want him to choose you over her.”
“No. Not at all.”
“That’s the only decision you’re giving him right now, from the sounds of it.”
“I just--” I groaned as I tried centering myself. “I just… wish things were different for him. For me. For us. It looks easy with you and Michael. Free rides. Aspirations. Dreams. Parents to pay for things.”
Allison snickered. “You think it’s easy for us? I’ve got parents that want all the doors in the house open when he’s around. I’ve got a father that still comes with us on dates.”
“Wait, what?”
She giggled. “Yeah, Rae. I envy the alone time you get with Clint. All the time, it seems.”
“I didn’t know any of this.”
“It’s not easy for us. It just looks easy because you’re seeing what you don’t have instead of seeing what you do. Michael and I? We’re just excited to get away from our parents. I’m shocked my parents agreed to me having an off-campus apartment with Michael coming to my same school. I can’t wait to have him over. Have some space to ourselves to just exist.”
“I just wish Clint wanted to follow me. That’s all.”
She squeezed my hand again. “Then tell him that.”
I shook my head. ‘I can’t tell him that.”
“Why not? Rae, you’ve helped him through so much--”
“Yes, to get to where he is now. Away from his father. And now, I’m supposed to be the one to tell him to leave the only shred of a parent he’s ever had to come with me? Really?”
She paused. “I guess I never looked at it that way.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the only way I’ve been looking at it. He has to want that for himself. Because otherwise, he’ll resent me for it. Me, always at school. Him, sitting around some studio apartment waiting for me. If he doesn’t want that for himself, he’ll eventually accuse me of isolating him or some shit. I know that happens. I’ve seen that happen.”
“Have you told him any of this?”
I licked my lips. “No.”
“Rae, I need you to listen to me. We all make mistakes. Lord knows Clint has made his fair share of them. But you two need to talk through this. You need to tell him how you’re feeling, because I know he’ll hear you out.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Clint might be scared and hurt, but he’s not stupid.”
“I know he’s not stupid.”
“And he’s not fragile. Or weak. He can take this. He can take anything. But if you keep babying him, nothing is going to get fixed.”
I sighed. “I know.”
“I mean, I hate to say it, but there was probably some truth to what you said at the party.”
I snickered. “Are you going to remind me what I said now?”
“There was one particular thing you said. Something I can’t shake. And it makes me feel like maybe you’re scared.”
My gut seized. “What did I say?”
“You said something to the effect of, ‘I protected myself before you, and I’ll protect myself after you’re gone.’”
“I fucking what?”
I ripped my hand away from Allison and threw open the shower curtain.
“I fucking said what!?”
She shushed me. “Hush. Everyone is sleeping.”
My eyes watered. “I said that to him?”
She nodded slowly. “You’re afraid of college right now, aren’t you?”
I shivered in the shower as tears escaped down my cheeks again.
“I’m petrified, Allison. I’m scared that when we all leave, that’s it. No more friendship. No more late nights. No more phone calls. No more surprises. No more friends, or loving boyfriend, or memories, or gift exchanges on New Year’s. I’m scared that when we leave for college, it’s all going to go away. Like it never existed. And I’ll be alone, with no one to support me, no one who believes in me, and a mother that would do anything to get me back home with her.”
Allison cupped my cheek. “I’m scared too, Rae. This is big. Moving away and doing our own thing is massive. College changes things, and you need to start dealing with that. The only constant we have in our lives is--”
“Don’t give me that shit.”
“Well, you need to hear that shit. Because if you don’t digest it, you’ll feel like this forever and keep ruining everything good around you because of your anger. Got it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Got it.”
“What I do know is this. I love Michael. With everything I have. And all he and I can do is make the best decisions we know how to right now. In this moment. Because it’s all we have.”
I slowly looked over at her. “You love Michael?”
She smiled brightly. “More than anything. I cherish him. He’s perfect for me. And yeah, we’re scared. We don’t know what’s ahead. Our routine is about to change, and we’re about to be six hours away from home, and we’re about to be taking classes that are going to bury us alive. We know that. So we cling to one another because we do have that constant, and that comforts us.”
“Well, I don’t have Clint.”
“You do now.”
“I won’t when I go off to college.”
“Girl, I hate to break it to you, but if you really can’t see what I’m telling you? You’re flunking out of your first semester.”
I giggled. “Thanks for that.”
She shrugged. “It’s true. You’re trying so hard to see the negative, and I don’t have a clue as to why. But you need to fix that. College will be ruined for you if you don’t, with or without Clint.”
“I don’t want to be without him.”
“You can’t control every variable though, either. Trying to is only going to end in failure. Which is what you’re anticipating anyway. Don’t be that person. Don’t do that self-fulfilling prophecy thing. I can tell you one thing.”
“What?”
“This thing you’re doing right now? This cyclical arguing with yourself while you talk yourself out of something that could be good for you? It’s the exact reason why your mother does what she does.”
I paused. “I’m not following.”
“You think your mother sits there with nothing to do all day and plots how she’s going to take your money? That’s certainly not the case. She’s scared, Rae. I’m sure she probably sits there, talking herself in circles. Telling herself why a job won’t work out or why it’s not worth putting in applications just for her to get her hopes up and everything blow up in her face. I bet in your mother’s eyes, she’s somehow saving herself from a lifetime of hurt. While, in the process, creating the hurt herself.”
I blinked. “Holy fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Ho-lee. Shit.”
“Yeah, Rae.”
I drew in shallow breaths. “How do I stop it?”
Allison shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not you.”
“I have to stop it, Allison. I can’t turn into her.”
“Well, now that you understand and recognize it, you can do what you need to in order to fix it. And you can start by talking with Clint tomorrow. Now, finish up in here and let’s get to bed. I need sleep.”
She closed the curtain and started cleaning up the water on the floor. Then she left me alone to dry off. My mind kept reeling with our conversation. One I knew I’d never forget. How did I let go of all this? How
did I move forward? There was so much unknown. And none of it felt right. Not my major. Not this college. Not this hotel room. Not leaving. Not staying.
Clint feels right, though.
And I hurt him tonight.
Badly.
28
Clinton
The first thing I felt was my head. It felt as if someone had it in a vice. Cranking it tighter and tighter, trying to get my brain to slide out of my damn nose. Fucking hell, my head hurt. I couldn't open my eyes because even the darkness shook around me.
The second thing I felt, though, was my heart.
Except it wasn’t my heart. It was the black pit in the middle of my chest where my heart needed to be. It brought back memories of last night. Snippets of Rae’s angry face. Her harsh words. That girl, climbing into my lap.
Did I do something with that girl?
My jaw started aching. Followed quickly by my ribs. Holy hell, it felt like I had been run over by a truck. Some eighteen-wheeler, barreling down the highway at high speed. Flashes slammed against the shaking darkness behind my eyelids. Some angry dude. My fist against his face. His knees in my ribs.
No. You didn’t do anything. You just beat the shit out of some guy.
“You up?”
Mike’s voice rang in my ears. I groaned as I shifted onto my side. My body felt as if it were made of lead. Like the marrow of my bones was filled with the stuff. With every sharp breath of air I drew through my nose, more of my night came back.
The hot shower. Sleeping in Mike’s hotel room.
Rae constantly bombarding me with questions.
“Fuck,” I grunted.
The burp that came up my throat was rancid. It made me grimace and forced me out of bed. It felt like I was going to be sick. The floor underneath me tilted, trying to knock me off balance. I heaved myself out of bed and fell against the wall before the sound of scrambling was heard. All the sounds around me meshed into one as my arm lifted itself into the middle of the air.
Before coming down around something.
“Come on. Toilet. Now.”
I groaned. “Shut up. Your voice sucks first thing in the morning.”
Mike snickered. “Pretty sure that’s the hangov--fuck. There you go.”
My stomach ejected its contents as I fell to my knees against the hard floor. I groaned in pain before tears rushed the back of my eyes. I couldn't remember the last time I got so drunk it made me sick. Holy hell, puking was a terrible sensation. It felt like my body was being ripped apart. Limb from limb. My ribs felt as if they were trying to break through my skin. The pain behind my eyes mounted, as if it were trying to squeeze my eyes from their sockets.
What the fuck was coming out of my nose?
It’s my brain. I’m melting. I’m dying.
“Your nose is bleeding, dude. Hold on.”
Water ran and the toilet flushed. My heaves became dry as I sat back on my haunches. Something cold landed underneath my nose and I flinched. Someone’s hand clapped against the back of my head.
“Holy fuck, that hurt.”
Mike sighed. “Don’t move away. You’re really bleeding good, man.”
I sighed as I sat there, with the stench of vomit filling the air. Why the hell had I gone to that party last night? Hell, why the fuck did I come on this trip? I should’ve known Rae better than that. I should’ve known she would have wanted to do this alone. I mean, we’d been together almost a year. One year come next month. How the hell did I not know her better than this?
Maybe that’s why we’re not working out.
“All right. It’s finally slowing up. How’s your head feeling?”
I laughed bitterly. “That a serious question?”
Mike snickered. “I’m trying to figure out if you need breakfast, or another four hours of sleep.”
“Fuck, no food. Definitely no food.”
“Coffee? Water? Excedrin?”
I sighed. “All three?”
“Done, done, and double done. Except, maybe not something that thins the blood. Your nose is uh… well, yeah. Let’s just say if it starts up again, I’m taking you to a doctor.”
“Got it.”
I opened my eyes for the first time that morning and the world didn’t tilt. The pain in my stomach slowly subsided, but it only made room for the pain in my chest. My hand flew to my pec. I gripped it as the emptiness washed over me. How the hell could something so miniscule feel so death-defying? I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to storm into Rae’s room and demand the answers she hadn’t given me yet.
And yet, the rest of me wanted to lie back in bed and fall asleep for a few weeks.
“Okay, well. You’ve got two choices. You can hang out here while I take a shower, or I can get you back to bed before I take a shower. What’s it gonna be?”
I cleared my throat. “The last thing I need this morning is to see your dick.”
Mike chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not gracing you with something so beautiful until I know you can remember it. All right. Up we go.”
My arm fell back around his shoulder and he heaved me off the floor. The world tilted for a second, but it quickly righted itself. Good. Much better than the first time I tried getting up. Mike helped me into my bed and I lay back down before I heard him ordering room service.
Breakfast for him, and all of the liquids and Tylenol for me.
I listened to the water of his shower as I stared at the ceiling. The foggy haze of sleep and my hangover started to lift. Leaving me with nothing but my thoughts. My theories on what the hell really happened last night. My hand fell back against my chest. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think straight. I turned over onto my side and gazed out the massive window with the sun pouring through the balcony windows.
Sun.
I needed the sunlight on my face.
I pulled myself out of bed and dragged my ass over to the door. It took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out how to unlock the damn thing before I slid it open. I walked out and flopped into a chair, relishing the heat against my skin. The sun against my face.
I relaxed back into the chair as the sounds of cars zoomed down below.
“You should talk to Rae, you know.”
Mike’s voice came from behind me and I sighed.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You know she’s going to feel bad. She already felt bad last night.”
I shrugged. “She should’ve thought about that beforehand.”
“Come on, Clint. I’d like to think I know you a little better than this.”
I cleared my throat. “What happened last night wasn’t completely her fault. I played a part in it, too. Even if I didn’t realize it at the time.”
“Still. You two need to talk.”
I shrugged. “What do you expect me to do, then? Haul my hungover ass next door and try not to puke while I drag out of her whether or not she wants to stay together?”
“You know damn good and well that girl is head over heels for you.”
“And yet, that wasn’t how things came out last night.”
“She was drunk. And a bit high.”
I snickered. “Yeah. I’ve been both before. Separately and together. I know getting high relaxes someone and getting drunk makes them more suggestible to things their subconscious is wanting to explore. If anything, shit like that makes you more prone to being honest. Not lying.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I nodded slowly. “I’ve lived it too many times in my own life to think any differently.”
“Still, that doesn’t--”
“If you were in my position, what would you do?”
He stepped up beside me. “I’d talk to Allison and figure ou--”
“If you found out your girlfriend was worried about still being with you when she went off to Stanford, what would you really do, Mike? I mean, if you found out that Allison had doubts in her mind about you. If you knew…”
I licked
my lips as my next words stained my tongue.
“If you knew that if you ended things--right here, right now--and she’d be better off for it, would you? Would you end it for her sake? If you really loved her?”
Mike snickered. “Bullshit.”
“Is it really, though?”
“You know damn good and well that girl isn’t better off without you. If anything, you’ve improved her quality of life. If anything, you’ve shown her what love is in a world that has chewed her up and spit her out time and time again.”
“It’s not bullshit and you know it. I mean, the distance between us? The lack of passion? Of dates? Of sex? Of intimacy? The times where she’s shut me out? Shut you out? Refused to talk to Allison, all of a sudden? I know you’ve heard the stories. I know you’ve experienced it. Do you really mean to tell me--?”
“Clint, she’s been pushing all of us away. It’s not just you.”
“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, Mike? Follow her here? Work a dead-end job because I need to pay rent and never get my foot in the door anywhere to make a difference while she studies her ass off, makes new friends, and builds a new life? A life she deserves?”
“What the fuck is so wrong with that?”
I growled. “I don’t--”
The dark hole in my chest clenched together as I chewed on my words.
“I don’t think I fit in her future anymore, Mike.”
His hand came down onto my shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do in your position, man. But I do know that if something was wrong with Allison--no matter how big--I’d start by talking with her. That’s for sure.”
I shook my head. “Do you want me to recount the amount of times I’ve tried talking with Rae this summer? About anything serious, other than the shit her mother’s pulling on her right now?”
“Well, the difference now is that she’s actually said something that needs to be addressed. She’s showing her cards, even if it took pot and booze to show them. Now you have something that needs to be discussed. Not just a hint. Not just a feeling. Not just a theory. Something concrete.”
“What if she shrugs it off and tells me it was just her being intoxicated?”
