Renee laughed in that slightly forced way of hers. “Well, hurry up, I’m hungry.”
I laughed so hard I thought beer would shoot out of my nose. Brooks and Renee were trying their hand at impersonations, and Renee’s Pee-wee Herman was scarily accurate.
“This is disturbing on so many levels,” I said, once I was able to breathe and Renee had stopped to eat a spicy wing. She waved her hand and bowed slightly.
“I’m a woman of many talents,” she preened. Brooks balled up his napkin and tossed it at her, where it bounced off her shoulder and onto the floor.
“You’ve been hiding that one, Renee Alston. You’re a sneaky, sneaky girl,” he joked.
We had opted to get pizza and wings at a place not far from campus. By the time we got ready and out the door, it was already almost nine. The place was packed by the time we arrived and we were lucky to find a tiny table near the back.
Brooks had been slightly standoffish at first, but once he had a few beverages in his system he had relaxed considerably. Renee and I shared a pitcher of beer, and after an hour we were all laughing and enjoying ourselves.
“I’ve gotta pee,” Renee said after polishing off the last of her pizza. She hopped down off the stool, a little wobbly on her feet.
“Need help?” I chuckled.
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I’m fine,” she said, and headed toward the bathroom.
Brooks’s easy smile faded slightly as we were left alone in our awkwardness.
“Brooks—” I began.
“Aubrey—” he said at the same time.
We both stopped and laughed a little nervously.
“This is weird, isn’t it,” he stated rather than asked.
“Maybe just a little,” I agreed, sipping on my beer.
“I’m still kind of pissed at you,” he grumbled, wiping up a puddle of beer that had spilled from the pitcher.
“I’m picking up on that,” I said tightly.
Brooks looked at me finally and what I saw wasn’t anger. It was hurt. And that made me feel ten times worse.
“But I hate staying mad at you. It doesn’t feel right. Just promise me something,” he said firmly.
“Anything,” I promised.
He dropped his eyes to the slice of pizza on his plate. “Next time you kiss me, mean it.”
I swallowed my surprise, not sure what I should say. “Okay,” I finally said after a beat, giving him a small smile. His lips quirked upward in response.
“What’d I miss?” Renee asked, appearing beside me.
“Not much. Just listening to the frat guys at the next table talk about the waitress’s boob job,” I replied blandly.
I looked around the crowded bar and saw a familiar face looking in our direction.
“Hey, Renee, isn’t that Iain?” I asked, nodding my head toward the bar. Renee’s jaw tightened and her shoulders went rigid.
“Probably,” she said quickly.
Brooks had turned in his seat and was chatting with a group of people at the table behind him. I leaned in close to Renee.
“Are you going to go say hi?” I asked. Iain, who was with a few other guys, was looking rather pointedly toward our table.
“I don’t think so,” she said, downing the rest of her beer. She seemed uncomfortable.
“I thought things were going well with you two. Did something happen?” I asked, bewildered by her attitude.
“Yeah, I happened,” Renee muttered, lifting the pitcher and pouring the rest of the beer into her mug.
“Does this have to do with Devon?” I asked. Renee stiffened instantly. My suspicions about Renee’s crazy mood this evening were confirmed. Something was up. I could tell.
“Why would it have anything to do with Devon?” she demanded, sounding defensive.
This was not the place to interrogate her. I looked over at Iain again, but he had turned back to his friends. And I felt a little sad for him. And for Renee.
I lifted my glass. “Tonight is about fun and forgetting. Fuck the drama!”
Renee’s shoulders relaxed and she lifted her glass in return. “Fuck the drama!” she yelled back, giggling when people around us looked at her.
“What are we toasting to?” Brooks asked, giving us his attention again.
“To living a drama-free life,” I explained.
Brooks lifted his mug and nodded his head. “Now, that’s something I can toast to.” He smiled at me and I smiled back.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
We ended up staying at the bar until it closed at 1:00 a.m. I drank just enough to feel good without losing control. Brooks remained relatively sober and chose to head back with his friends to the frat house instead of going home.
“You ready to get out of here?” Renee asked, coming out of the bar.
“Yep. I’ll talk to you on Monday, Brooks,” I said, looping my arm through Renee’s. He lifted his hand in a wave as we headed down the street in the direction of our apartment building.
“Tonight was good. Thanks for making me go out,” I said, reaching for the bottle of water in her hand and taking a drink.
Renee squeezed my arm. “I needed it as much as you did.”
I hadn’t thought about Maxx once. I had, for the first time in a long time, been able to enjoy myself, stress free.
“What the hell?” Renee asked, coming to a stop. We were out in front of our apartment building. The street was quiet and empty.
“What is it?” I asked, wondering why she had stopped.
Renee pointed to the pavement at her feet. “Look.”
I looked down at the sidewalk. I was surrounded by a swirling, vibrant pattern of colors. A pair of giant hands seemed to be reaching up from the ground. A purposeful, violent punch to the gut. The fingers seemed to be grasping for something that I couldn’t see. I knelt down on my haunches and traced my fingertips along the curves and bends.
“It’s beautiful,” Renee said from behind me, taking a step back to get a better look. I could see that the entire thing had been done in chalk this time, not paint. I rubbed the edge of a complicated geometrical pattern with my thumb, strangely satisfied to see it smudging beneath my finger.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered, standing back up and feeling my anger ignite as I took in the very obvious statement laid out before me.
“It is unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Renee exclaimed. I had never told her about Maxx’s art. For some reason it hadn’t come up. It was another one of those mysteries I had kept to myself. But looking down at this intricate drawing, I knew that Maxx was back. He was home. And he was making good on his promise to not give up. Standing there, coming down from the high of a good night with friends, I didn’t quite know what I was supposed to feel.
Without realizing exactly what I was doing, I unscrewed the top of the bottle of water in my hand and poured it out over the drawing, watching as it splashed and spread across the drawing, erasing it, ruining it.
“What the hell, Aubrey?” Renee screeched, jumping backward as water splashed her jeans. I didn’t say a word as I watched the liquid destroy Maxx’s visual pronouncement of his feelings.
“Why did you do that?” Renee asked, following me as I walked into our building.
“Because it didn’t need to be there,” I said, knowing I hadn’t really explained anything.
“Stop dodging, Aubrey. What’s up?” she asked.
I felt dangerously close to screaming. After such a wonderful night, having it end like this infuriated me. “It’s Maxx. That was him,” I told her.
“Maxx? What are you talking about?”
“That’s his artwork. He must have done it while we were out. Which also means he’s out of rehab.” I let myself into our apartment and turned on the light. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the couch, draping my arm over my eyes.
“Is he X, then? The one who used to do the graffiti for the club?” Renee said, the pieces obviously falling int
o place.
“Yep, that’s him,” I replied shortly, my arm dropping beside me. I was exhausted. The late hour and Maxx’s sudden reemergence back in my life had me wanting to crawl into bed.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that? I mean, wow. He’s kind of a big deal,” she said, sitting down beside me.
“Yeah, I know. But who the hell cares that his talent is off the charts? It doesn’t change the fact that he can’t have any place in my life anymore. No matter how many pretty paintings he leaves outside my front door,” I stated emphatically, though my words rang somewhat false and I wondered who I was trying to convince. Renee or myself.
“But from that painting I’m guessing he doesn’t plan on going away anytime soon.”
“I guess not,” I agreed.
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Isn’t that my line?” I snorted.
Renee chuckled. “I’ve seriously been hanging out with you entirely too long,” she said.
I sobered and sighed. “I’m not sure how I feel, Renee.”
My friend pressed in close and put her arm around me. I rested my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes. “It’ll be all right,” Renee said, and I wondered if she was speaking for me or for herself.
“I’ll be all right,” I parroted her, trying to believe it.
chapter
thirteen
aubrey
“hey, ladies!”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Brooks jogging toward Renee and me as we walked across campus.
I hadn’t slept well the last two nights. The dreams that had all but disappeared in the last two weeks were back with a vengeance. While I couldn’t remember the exact nature of my nightmares, all I knew was that I woke up soaked in sweat and feeling a knot of dread in my stomach so tight I felt sick.
When Renee and I left home this morning, I refused to look at the remnants of the chalk drawing that still marred the sidewalk. And I refused to think about the possibility of seeing Maxx again now that he was out of rehab.
Nope. Wasn’t thinking about it at all.
“What’s up?” Brooks asked, a little out of breath once he slowed down to walk by my side.
“Nothing,” I said at the same time that Renee responded, “Maxx.” I shot Renee the look of death. She widened her eyes innocently and mouthed, “Sorry.”
Brooks’s jaw clenched marginally, but then he smiled.
“Well, let’s go get a doughnut before class. That’ll put you in a better mood.” Brooks began to steer me toward the small coffee shop.
“I’m heading to the library. You want to meet up for lunch?” Renee asked.
“Uh, I think I’ll just head back home to eat,” I said, knowing that what I was doing was running away and hiding.
Because after the unexpected artwork outside my door, I wasn’t comfortable with the possibility of seeing the artist.
Renee gave me a look but didn’t comment. When she left, Brooks and I continued on to the coffee shop. The place was heaving by the time we got there, full of students getting their dose of caffeine before class. We got in line and waited.
“I have a study group tonight; do you want me to come over afterward?” Brooks asked. I nodded absently, not really hearing him.
“Sure, sounds great,” I said, giving Brooks my attention and pushing away any twinges of misgiving brought on by too little sleep, not enough coffee, and a particular drawing in chalk gracing the gray pavement outside of my apartment.
“I’ll bring the new Nicolas Cage movie—it looks awesome,” Brooks continued, and I groaned playfully.
“Your Cage obsession is becoming concerning,” I quipped.
“No more concerning than any of yours,” he lobbed back. I smiled wanly at the barb, feeling its sting even if it hadn’t been calculated to hurt.
We approached the cashier, who knew us by name and began to punch in our orders before we could give them. Brooks and I had been coming most mornings for the past three years.
After we got our orders, Brooks and I left and stood on the path for a few minutes before we headed in opposite directions.
“There’s a party this weekend at Sigma Kappa. I thought you might want to go,” Brooks ventured, sipping on his coffee. I made a face. Brooks wasn’t in a fraternity, but he was friends with several of the brothers at the Sigma Kappa house.
I snorted. Brooks should know better.
“Why would you even ask that?” I gaped.
“Because I saw how much you ended up enjoying yourself this past weekend. Admit it, you had fun,” Brooks said, poking me in the side and making me squirm.
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered, not needing to add that my perfectly enjoyable evening had been shot to shit once I got home. No sense in being Debbie Downer.
“So you see, mingling with society isn’t a bad thing. And maybe if you’re not sitting around your apartment all the damn time, you’ll stop moping about someone you shouldn’t be moping about.”
I drew myself upright. “I am not moping!” I stated firmly.
“But you can’t deny that you’re a bit antisocial,” he countered.
“And you can’t deny that you’re a bit of a dickhead,” I threw back.
Brooks laughed and reached out, pulling me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re the most awesome chick I know, Aubrey,” he said with genuine affection.
I felt my cheeks heat up and moved out of the shelter of his arms, remembering how easily I had used him to fill the gaping hole in my chest. I couldn’t use Brooks as a fill-in. It wasn’t fair. “So does that mean I’m off the hook, then?” I asked, my mouth quirking up into a smile.
“Come on, Aubrey. Pretty please with a beer keg on top?” He folded his hands together as he begged.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“Ask me next week when I’m not feeling so mopey,” I joked, sticking my tongue out.
Brooks rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Fine, your loss. But I won’t give up,” he warned, and I felt a prickle of apprehension.
Not because of Brooks’s words per se, but because of similar ones spoken by someone else entirely.
“I have to get to class. I’ll see you later,” I said.
“I’ll see you this evening,” Brooks called out as he walked toward the library.
I started down the pathway toward the psychology building, when I felt someone come up close behind me.
Students were everywhere, but this particular presence had me feeling nervous.
And with good reason, apparently.
“Aubrey.”
My name, spoken in that familiar way, like a mixture of a curse and a prayer, made me feel uncomfortably weak in the knees.
Should I make a run for it?
It was too late. I was already stopping and turning around before I could think better of it.
“Maxx. You’re here,” I said blandly, as if I weren’t torn in two at the sight of him.
It had only been a little over a week since I had gone to the rehab facility, but somehow seeing him here, on campus, was so much harder. It felt wrong and familiar at the same time.
Maxx, the student, had always felt like such a contrast to the Maxx I had met in the support group and later the Maxx I knew at the club. He had been a man with many lives who lived in many different worlds. It had taken me a long time to reconcile myself to the person he was in each and how they all coexisted inside of the same body.
I stared at this Maxx and wondered which one he was. The look in his eyes reminded me of my Maxx. The man who loved me. But there was a tired vacancy that was reminiscent of that other Maxx. The one who had needed his drugs more than he had ever needed me.
Maxx rubbed his finger along the bridge of his nose and gave me a shy smile that was completely out of character. “Yeah, well, I have a meeting with my adviser. I had to withdraw from classes, you know, when I went into rehab. Now I’m hoping to sort
out some summer-school classes and see how far behind I really am. I have a feeling I’m screwed no matter what I do,” he said matter-of-factly, without a hint of self-pity.
“That sucks, I’m sorry,” I replied lamely, not really knowing what I was supposed to say. It felt weird having random small talk with him like this.
Maxx kicked at a piece of gravel, and the surprisingly juvenile action tugged at my hardened heart. “Well, I only have myself to blame,” he said, putting his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
This time I didn’t respond. It wasn’t the time or place to have the conversation that statement warranted.
I nodded my head toward his jeans, which still showed traces of colored chalk at the knees.
“You’ve been busy,” I said, sounding irritated.
Maxx looked almost embarrassed.
“Yeah, well, when the muse strikes and all that,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes.
“And the muse struck outside my apartment building?” I questioned.
“It always brings me back to you, I guess,” he said softly, and my heart thumped wildly and threatened to explode out of my chest.
“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope,” Maxx murmured, almost under his breath.
Christ, Maxx was quoting Jane freaking Austen. I had to get out of there, and fast.
I cleared my throat and pulled my messenger bag farther onto my shoulder.
“I’d better get going,” I said, trying to sidestep him.
He reached out, his hand catching mine, his fingers loosely grasping. I startled at the contact. It was such an innocent touch, but I felt it in my bones.
“I told you last week that when I got out I hoped you wouldn’t shut the door in my face if I showed up. That drawing was my way of asking you if you would. If it was okay if I ended up there.”
My hand shook a bit as I pulled away from his hold.
“And I think it’s too soon to tell, Maxx. You need to focus on you. Not on me,” I told him sharply.
“What if I said there was no me without you?” he asked, chewing on his lip. An innocent movement that spoke volumes about his lack of confidence. I swallowed hard and clenched my hands into fists so I wouldn’t throw my arms around him. Or smack him in the face. The jury was still out.
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