by Maya Hughes
There was a Marisa-sized hole in my life, and I hated it.
The look on her face when I’d told her she was like her dad had felt like someone had reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart to the point of failure. But I couldn’t take it back. I couldn’t be with her if she didn’t believe we could make it—if she wasn’t one hundred percent as heart-poundingly, body-tinglingly, soul-scorchingly in love with me as I was with her.
“Hey, you want to head out? The taxi’s here.” Berk poked his head into my bedroom. “You okay?” He stepped inside the darkened room.
“I’m good.” It was a bitter pill to swallow that I couldn’t even talk to him about Marisa. Telling him everything now felt like it would only invite more questions, and they would be questions I either didn’t have the answers to or didn’t want to answer. Looked like my plan had worked out.
A hysterical, not remotely humorous laugh came out like a wicked witch’s cackle.
Berk froze and tilted his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
No. Not even a little bit. I stood from my chair and grabbed my coat. “Hell, yes, let’s get fucked up.”
Without waiting for Berk, I rushed down the stairs.
Jules and Keyton stood by the front door.
They both flinched when they saw me.
Was it my five days of stubble? My probably-smelly pits? Or was it my Joker smile? “Who’s ready to go out?” I clapped my hands and rubbed them together. “Let’s go out.”
Berk padded down the stairs. “Are you sure you’re good?”
I wheeled around. “Totally. Never better.”
He looked from Jules to Keyton. “Maybe we should wait for Marisa. Is she still keeping Liv company while Ford’s traveling?”
I was running out of excuses. Not exactly wanting to face the fact she might not come back. I channeled my sadness into the need to get blind-fucking drunk.
Keyton barged in before I could drop into full hyena laughter. “She said she had a study group tonight.”
“Yup, she’s long gone. Let’s go.” I jerked the door open and headed outside. Inside was too close. The walls pressed in with every minute I sat there thinking about what happened next.
It would be a lot better to get blitzed. I didn’t have to be responsible anymore. The season was over. The combine was over. There was nothing left to do but wait for my future to be decided by some big wigs in stadium sky boxes, and hope my agent turned up with a draft invitation.
That would mean I’d go in the first, second, or possibly third round. But right now, all I could think about was the woman I’d loved not being able to love me back, which called for booze. A lot of booze.
“LJ!” A collective shout from behind me.
I spun around.
Berk, Jules, and Keyton stood beside the open door to the taxi waiting in the middle of the street.
Berk cupped his hands around his mouth. “The taxi, remember?”
Marching back toward them, I kept my gaze diverted and walked around to the front passenger seat of the car.
The three of them silently got into the back seats. Their doors closed with a muffled thud. In the mirrors, I could see them whispering and exchanging glances.
The bar was already bursting with people when we arrived.
Inside, Berk herded us to a booth, which was already occupied. Reece and Nix sat in the middle beside Seph and Elle. Exactly what I didn’t need right now: the whole gang back together.
Jules grabbed Elle in a former-roommate reunion. All the guys exchanged bro hugs and sat, but my knee bounced under the table as everyone filled the group in about what was going on with them.
Reece’s update on his first pro season was the most interesting. Everyone wanted to know about our agents, draft rumors and what else we had going on.
I wanted to get up from the table and get a drink. My chair scraped against the floor and I nearly took out a server with a tray of drinks. “I’m going to order at the bar. I’ll get something for everyone.”
A server stood beside our table with a notepad out.
“Second round. So we don’t have to wait to order.” I disappeared into the crowd of people and went straight up to the bar, finding the only free spot beside the high-backed barstools that only trendy places had.
I waved for the bartender’s attention. She came over after taking a couple other orders.
“Can I get four Sam Adams and three vodka cranberries? And two double shots of vodka right now?”
She took my card and started a tab, returning with the double shots of vodka while she made the rest of the rail drinks and opened the beers.
“Is one of those for me?” A brunette on the stool beside me leaned in with a light and airy smile.
I glanced down at the shots and back up at her. Lifting one, I handed it over to her.
If I squinted and turned my head to the side, she could look like Marisa. No dent on the bridge of her nose though.
She raised the glass and clinked it against mine. “To a wonderful night.”
Keeping my gaze on her, I knocked my shot back, letting it burn all the way down. To a wonderful night.
The pounding at the front door didn’t stop. Halfway down the stairs, the light from the window above the doorway blazed straight into my eyeballs, searing them. A stadium full of people were stomping on my brain. A truckload of ibuprofen might be a good start.
This was what happened when you were a senior year lightweight. Other guys could drink their body weight in booze, but I hadn’t been blitzed in a long time. I’d always needed to be ready during the season and off-season practices. Right now, though, I felt more like I’d been scrambled.
Last night had been a shit show of epic proportions. I’d hoped to sleep it off for the next two to three months. No such luck.
Shielding my eyes, I opened the door.
“Quinn, what are you doing here?” My eighteen-year-old sister stood on the porch in a jacket she’d painted by hand that was reminiscent of the pattern I’d splattered all over the toilet last night.
My parents’ sedan idled, double parked, outside the house. “Do Mom and Dad know you have the car?” I dropped my head, squeezing my eyes shut.
“They left for Florida yesterday. Do you really want to bother them with a pesky little detail like me borrowing the car?” She held up her thumb and pointer finger less than half an inch apart.
“What have you done?” I squinted, opening one eye.
She rolled her eyes. “Can you drop out of Dad Mode for a whole ten minutes? I’m here to make a delivery.” Held in her hand at eye level was a folded piece of lined notebook paper—the same kind Marisa and I used to trade during high school chemistry. My initials were scrawled over the front of the paper.
I hesitated.
“Like you’re not going to take it.” She shoved it against my chest.
My hands pressed against the smooth paper, heart punching against my ribs. “Why’d she send you?”
“She wanted to make sure you wouldn’t back out of whatever she has planned.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
I guess things hadn’t changed much.
“About you two dating? And boning constantly? And then her screwing things up? Of course she did.”
Spit lodged in my throat at Quinn’s bubbly reply.
“Kidding. I’m kidding. She didn’t mention anything about sex.” She shuddered. “But she said you two had been secretly dating and she’d messed up and wanted to talk to you.” Rocking back on her heels, she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And I totally wasn’t supposed to say any of that to you. All I was supposed to say was please read the note and come with me if you wanted to talk to her. Don’t tell her I threw in the stuff about boning.” She cringed, her cheeks flushing. “That was more of a punishment to myself than I anticipated.”
I stared down at the paper in my hands.
“You are coming, aren’t you?” Quinn’s voice wobbled in panic.
The smooth paper glided under my fingertips. I unfolded it and looked up at Quinn trying to read over the top of the paper.
I closed the door in her face and rested my back against it, staring at the ink and lines, focusing enough to read her note.
L,
I know I have no right to ask for this after what happened at the museum, but I’d really like to speak with you. I need to talk to you. After that, well, we’ll see, but I need to finally tell you everything. You deserve to know everything. Please meet me at the treehouse.
Marisa
My fingers gripped either side of the paper, reading and re-reading it.
Furious pounding rattled the door.
I jerked it open.
Quinn’s hands were anchored to her hips. “Serious—”
“I’ll be there, but I need to get ready.”
“I can wait.” She stepped into the doorway.
“No, I’ll be there. I just need some time, okay?”
Chewing on her cheek, she stepped back and nodded. “Don’t make me drive back over the bridge, or I’m charging you for the toll.”
“Bye, Quinn.” I closed the door and stared down at the paper, now crumbled in my hand.
The first thing I needed was coffee. I made myself a gallon and went back upstairs.
In my room, I picked up my clothes off the floor and dumped them into the hamper. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and downed the coffee as quickly as I could without scalding myself. Black with no sugar—it was punishment for being such a colossal idiot last night.
Going through the motions, I pulled myself together. I took a scouring shower set as hot as it would go, and then shaved properly. I spent way too long finding clothes to wear, finally settling on a t-shirt and jeans after the fifth change.
Long shadows stretched across the street by the time I pulled myself together enough to get into my car. The sun hung low in the horizon when I pulled into my parent’s driveway, parking beside their car.
The curtains at the front of the house ruffled.
I walked up the path to the front door, trying to keep my mind blank. There was a hurricane of emotions roiling inside me, and I didn’t know which way this was going. I wasn’t sure which were safe to even explore until I spoke to her, which made me want to run the other way and head back into the city.
The front door flew open before I could get out my key.
“The backyard.” Quinn whisper-shouted. “Go around the side. That way.” She pointed to the left of the house. The well-worn path around the back of the house had recovered over the years.
We used to ditch our bikes right beside the fence and take off toward the back of the house without even stopping inside.
Rounding the corner of the house, I spotted us. Our picture was stuck to a stake driven into the grass. String lights twinkled, wrapped around the stakes and guiding my path lined with even more pictures.
Me and Marisa in the third grade, our arms linked around each other’s necks as we sported big, gap-toothed smiles. My mom had been the chaperone on our class trip to the Philly Zoo, and I’d told her to make sure Marisa was in our group. She’d shared one of her chocolate iced TastyKakes with me.
That might’ve been when I’d fallen in love with her.
There were more stakes—one for each year we’d known each other.
There was the summer after sixth grade, when she’d tagged along with my family to the shore while her mom had been out of town. We’d binged on funnel cake and puked under the boardwalk, so my parents didn’t find out and ban us from eating any more.
There we were standing on the stairs with our dates for the eighth-grade dance. She’d been beautiful. I’d gotten jealous—the first time I realized what that felt like—when she’d agreed to go to the dance with Sean McCormack. She’d said it was only because he’d asked her and no one else had. But I’d kissed her beside the bleachers in the gym.
More memories appeared with each step, every one banging into my chest. We had so much history between us. So much of our pasts was intertwined and connected.
The whole family playing board games in the hospital room while my dad recovered after a surgery.
Another stake. Us at high school graduation. My mortar board had poked her in the eye after someone called my name when we’d tried to take a selfie. I laughed, the sound catching in my throat.
I made it to the back of the house.
And there she stood in her museum outfit, like she hadn’t changed since that day, but so much had changed. It was hard to catch my breath with the whirlwind in my chest stealing away every inhalation.
The overly-long grass covered the sides of her shoes. Flowers my mom would plant when they came back were lined up along the flowerbeds surrounding the ten feet of paved stone patio outside the back door.
“You came.” Her voice wavered, and her lips twitched into an almost-smile, but her eyes were watery.
“I told Quinn I would.” I shoved my keys into my pocket and crossed the patio to where she stood in the grass. “She gave me your note.” Keeping the restraint on, I kept my hands in my pockets. “What did you want to tell me?”
She fidgeted with her hands in front of her. “I was an idiot. An asshole and an idiot. Everything you said in the museum was true. I was scared and ready to run at the slightest hint that you might leave me first.” A deep, shuddering breath. “It’s one thing that’s been inevitable in my life. But that wasn’t fair, because you’ve never been that person.” Her voice cracked. “You’ve been the one person who I’ve always been able to be myself with, who’s always been there for me, and that made it the hardest to think of you leaving me.
“I don’t want to lie to you anymore. And no matter what, whether you can forgive me or not, I need you to know the truth about how I feel. The only thing that comes from people not saying their true feelings is hurt and pain, and I don’t want that for you. I’d never want that for you. I don’t want to hide any part of myself from you anymore. You leaving…it would’ve broken me, but—shocker of the century—that happened anyway. Only I did it to myself because I was terrified of what would happen when you moved on.”
My mouth was cotton ball dry. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m scared shitless. I’m worried about what will happen when you get drafted. What will happen if I go to Italy. What happens when you find out I know nothing about healthy, caring relationships like your parents, and I make mistakes. I worry you’ll finally realize that I’m not good enough for you. And that you’ll get tired of trying to choke down my food.
“But most of all, I worry I’ve destroyed the one relationship that means the most to me in the world. More than anything, I want to be with you in whatever form that takes.
“I love you, LJ. With everything I have, I love you, and even though I’m scared out of my mind, I want to be with you.”
The rush of emotions bearing down on me locked me in place, like I’d been soldered to the ground. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. She’d finally said the words—said them so I felt them. They reached into my chest and bear-hugged my heart.
But she wasn’t the only one she needed to come clean about a few things. I licked my lips, trying to figure out the best way to say what I needed her to know.
“There’s something….” The words turned to pennies in my mouth, vile, metallic, and acidic. Running my fingers through my hair, I blurted it out. “Last night we went out for drinks and there was a woman.”
31
Marisa
I swayed, catching myself before I stumbled. “A woman. At the bar.”
I wasn’t sure how I’d expected this to go, but puking in the backyard hadn’t been in my plans.
“I was looking to numb everything. I ordered two shots just for myself, and she started flirting with me. I gave her one of my shots. We toasted them and downed them both.”
The blood drained from my face, pooling at my f
eet. Burning nudged at the back of my nose. The cool April air singed my nostrils.
“I kept thinking how she looked a lot like you.”
My brain, of course, flashed to images of LJ and my evil twin making out at the bar, hands all over one another.
“She invited me to join her at the bar. To have a few more drinks.” He stepped closer and I wanted to back up, to run away from the thought of LJ with my doppelgänger falling into bed together or tearing each other’s clothes off.
“Did you?” The whisper was barely audible even to my own ears.
He took my hands, stopping my fidgeting, and I stared at the center of his chest.
With his finger under my chin, he raised my head to look me in the eye. “No, I didn’t. I had a second where I considered having another drink with her, but I couldn’t do more than walk away, because I felt absolutely nothing for her. All I could do was find all the ways you were similar, and discounting each one in her as not measuring up. Because she wasn’t you.”
A relieved and borderline-hysterical laugh escaped my lips. “I thought you were confessing to taking her home.”
“No, Risa.” His thumb brushed along the side of my cheek. “Even after everything, a drink with another woman was pushing it for me. I couldn’t have done anything more. Not when I’m completely, irrevocably in love with you. You can’t rewrite fourteen years of history in a couple weeks.”
Tears I’d sworn had run out while we’d been apart came bubbling back, only this time they were happy ones. Everything shone so brightly it felt like my chest was filled with a sunrise. This was the dawn of a whole new era of Marisa and LJ.
“You couldn’t have led with that part?” I laughed and flung my arms around his neck, holding him close and breathing in the LJ smell I’d missed.
“I felt a mini-heart attack was warranted after what you put me through.”
I held his face between my hands and kissed him—a shoulders up, full body press with his arms trapped between our chests.
