by Ann Aguirre
“Max...”
“Go to bed,” he said in a monotone.
“I’m not moving until you talk to me.”
At that, his mouth compressed, a muscle jumping in his neck. “You’re determined to have it out tonight, huh? Fine. Let’s do it.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“For what? For blindsiding me with your two-million-dollar condo and your bitchy, diamond-studded mother? Or for letting me think we make sense together?”
My throat tightened. “That’s not funny.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing? I haven’t kept any secrets from you, Courtney. You know exactly where I’m from. But I knew jack shit about you, apparently.”
“I messed up. I know that. But there’s a reason I didn’t say anything. I’m begging you to just listen, okay?” I dropped my backpack and sank onto the floor. It wasn’t intentional but I ended up on my knees, leaning against the couch. It had been such a long fucking day that every part of me ached, but I just couldn’t walk away until we hit some semblance of understanding.
“No, I think I’ll talk instead.” Max downed the rest of his beer and then crushed the can in one hand. “Let me guess, you wanted to be sure I wasn’t just another broke asshole chasing you for your money.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” I choked out.
“What, then?”
“I was afraid this would happen. That it would change everything and you wouldn’t see me the same anymore.”
“Well, you were right.” He still hadn’t looked directly at me. Instead, he was staring at the infomercial on TV like the kitchenware could unlock the secrets of the universe.
“Please don’t say that.”
“Unlike you, I’m not a liar, Courtney. Not even by omission.”
“What do you want me to do?” The tears were choking me, a knot of sea salt about my neck. Between the pain and lack of oxygen, it felt like my chest was on fire.
“Be who I thought you were.”
“I’m still me,” I protested.
“You’re a rich girl passing in my neighborhood. I hope it was a good time.”
“Was?” My voice shook.
“I thought that was pretty clear by the way your mom treated me.”
“What she thinks and what I do have never been remotely the same.”
He ignored that, breaking my heart a little more. What had been a hairline fracture widened into a fissure. I could almost taste the blood, a coppery echo in the back of my throat. I clenched my hands into fists to stop myself from crawling over and clinging to his legs. That wouldn’t soften his mood any, and I couldn’t even blame him for what he was saying. Not when I’d hurt him so badly.
“Let me ask you this... What are you even doing here?”
“Where?”
“Mount Albion. With the money I saw in Chicago, your parents could’ve bought you a spot anywhere, just about. Why aren’t you at an Ivy League school? That’s where you belong.”
That made me mad because he knew about Eli, about rehab. I hadn’t kept that part of my life a secret from him at all. So I snapped, “My GPA was terrible, Max, and my SATs were worse. I mean, shit, I was wait-listed even here at Mount Albion. This was the best I could do.”
He let out a sigh that was nearly a snarl and snapped out of his chair. For a few seconds, he towered over me, but I wasn’t scared. Then he dropped to his knees, facing me with a sadness that I never, ever wanted to see in his beautiful brown eyes. Tears trembled in his lashes and he blinked them away without speaking.
Countless moments later, his voice came out gravel-rough, hoarse as if he’d spent that time crying. “See, that’s exactly the problem, Courtney. You just proved my point.”
“Huh?”
“You think I didn’t hear your disdain just now? ‘This was the best I could do.’ To you, this place is a waste, and you’re clocking time. But you got any idea how fucking proud I am that Mount Albion took me? I saved for two years, ate ramen, pored over grant application requirements in the library before my shifts. I begged strangers at the adult education center to help me figure this shit out. Some days, I ate nothing but pride. So Mount Albion is the best I could do, too, but...in a completely different way.”
Oh, God. He’s right. What did I just say? I couldn’t breathe.
He went on, “You have everything, including parents who care enough to act crazy on your behalf, and you don’t want it. I have nothing and I’m fighting for every inch.”
“I’m really proud of you,” I managed to say.
“Why? You think what I achieve is a reflection on you? ‘Look at me, I’m so awesome supporting my hard-luck boyfriend.’” He sighed and closed his eyes. “This is why we don’t make sense. You’ve never lived in the real world. I didn’t understand the scope until meeting your mother, but things are crystal clear now.”
“I’m definitely not as independent as you,” I admitted. “But I’m working on it. I don’t expect you to take care of me.”
“If you talk him around, your daddy can find me a job somewhere, right? Probably buy our first house, too. Which would be fucking awesome, if I was for sale.”
My nails bit into my palms so hard that I felt them slice through and a sting of blood seeping in red crescents. Too late, I understood how much I’d hurt him and how little I could do to change it. I didn’t think it would matter if I told him that I never considered what my father earned to be mine—that I didn’t come from a long line of trust funds. Talking about the 50K I had from my granddad would probably sound like a boast when I’d only mean that it was all I had that was mine, money he’d saved up over his whole life...and that was why I’d never touched it, why I was still thinking about whether I should use it to start my indie label. If I failed, it would be like pissing on my grandfather’s legacy.
“I can see this is too big for an apology.”
“Yeah,” he said with awful finality.
“Just to be perfectly clear, we’re breaking up now?”
He pushed up on his hands, returning to his chair. Except for the shine of his eyes, I could almost believe his indifference. “It was done when I left the condo, when I didn’t answer your texts or calls. But you wanted to scrape it raw, so we have.”
“Okay. Sorry.” It was all I could do to get those two words out without crying.
I dragged myself upright, found my backpack; it was nearly enough weight to topple me over. Somehow I stumbled to my room and shut the door quietly behind me. My head was a mess when I fell on my bed, just a constant whirl of what-ifs and inchoate plans to get him back. The tears surprised me; I didn’t even realize I was crying until I touched my cheeks and noticed how wet my pillow was. They were silent tears, thank God. I choked back all sounds, not wanting Max to hear me. I was still crying when I passed out, and when I woke early the next morning, my cheeks were still damp.
I have to go, I thought.
There was just no way I could stay, and Max had been here first. So instead of making breakfast or taking a shower, I got out my suitcase and packed it. The boxes I’d used to move from the dorm were still in the closet; they only needed me to bust out the packing tape, so I could fill them with my belongings. I didn’t even know where I was going but I kept collecting my stuff like a robot because if I thought too hard about why this was necessary, I’d end up in a ball on the floor.
I wished I’d told Max that I loved him. If I said it now, he’d take it for emotional manipulation. And he wouldn’t be 100 percent wrong. Exhaling, I looked around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. But nope, all that was left was Kia’s stuff. It was hard not to think this room was cursed, man. First Lauren had flunked out, then I had to move because of a messy breakup. But it could be argued that if she’d studied and I hadn’t gotten involved with my roommate, we both would’ve been fine. And Nadia had moved out for adorable reasons.
It took all my courage to open my bedroom door, but the apartment was deserted. Though Max’s be
droom door was closed, I knew he wasn’t in there just from the empty feeling. I didn’t feel like eating, so instead of fixing food, I used the fridge magnets to leave him a final message. I Am Sorry. I Will Miss You. Not nearly enough, but it was all I could give him.
Then I called Evan, who picked up on the first ring, like he was expecting my call. “You okay, funny girl?”
“Not remotely. Is your offer still good?”
“Sure. But I expect you to pay rent. This isn’t a free lunch, you know.”
“Just let me know how much.”
God only knew how I’d afford double rent payments since my parents had cut me off. If I called to tell them Max and I were done, they’d send me new cards and pay off my lease, glad to have me away from him. But I’m not doing that. This is my problem, and I’ll figure it out.
“How soon do you need me there?” he asked.
“ASAP. My ex isn’t here right now, and I kind of feel like he’s making himself scarce until I clear out.” Maybe I was wrong about that, but I couldn’t feel good about Max sleeping at the garage or in his secret river spot, especially in this weather.
It was your home first. I won’t take it away from you. I guess that means I can’t email Michael anymore. And that hurt as much as if he were actually my brother, and I wasn’t allowed talk to him. No more Uncle Lou. I can’t really hang out with Kia and Angus anymore, either. Since Nadia’s outside the apartment, I can probably still hang out with her, as long as Max isn’t around. Every breakup ended in friendship casualties with people taking sides.
Every time I thought about calling or sending texts, the tears started fresh. In the end, I decided to postpone explanations until after break. No reason to ruin any else’s holiday. Grief made it hard for me to haul stuff down. At one point, I sat on the bottom step and cried until I couldn’t breathe. Outside, I swiped until my face was chapped and cold, probably dusty, as well. My eyes were so swollen, I could barely see. But half an hour later, I had all my stuff downstairs on the sidewalk.
Evan pulled up just as I sat down on the curb to wait. “Jesus Christ. You look like slow-roasted hell.”
I couldn’t deny it. “You have a way with words. You should write lyrics.”
“We can work on that while we’re rooming together. Get in the van and warm up. I’ll load up for you.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I’m not convinced you can stop me.” He poked me with a fingertip and I wobbled.
Conceding the point, I stumbled over and got in, then closed my eyes, tilting my head against the back of the seat. Evan was good at manual labor, so within a few minutes he was in the driver’s seat, briskly rubbing his hands against the cold. He checked the heat, then glanced over at me.
“Looks like I owe you again,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I’m keeping a tab. At this rate, you’ll be my indentured keyboardist.”
I was supposed to smile at that, but I couldn’t. If I fell down another step, I’d be in the doctor’s office, claiming I needed help sleeping. Pretty pills, pink and blue, one to take the pain away, another that let me pretend I was still alive.
“Okay.” It was easier to agree to be his musical slave, echoes of how I used to be.
Evan cut me a worried look. “You sure this is your best move? Taking off to stay with another guy won’t win you any reconciliation points.”
“He thinks I’m a complete waste of space. At this point, the only thing I can do is get out of his way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
For two days after the breakup, I wallowed, and Evan let me. He made sure I ate one meal a day, but otherwise, he didn’t pressure me to be productive. But on the twenty-third, he tapped on my bedroom door, and it took me a full five minutes to schlep over to open it. When I did, I noticed his worried look.
“I’m alive, don’t worry.”
“That’s not why I’m here. I just wanted to tell you that I’m taking off.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I promised my mom I’d come home for Christmas this year. So I’ll be gone until the twenty-sixth. Will you be okay here? Without a car and everything.”
I nodded. “It’s fine. I have other friends.”
From his expression, he was wondering why I wasn’t staying with them, then, and why I hadn’t called them for a midnight pickup at the Ann Arbor train station. But he was nice enough not to poke holes in my pride. Evan just nodded.
“Okay, well, there’s food in the kitchen. No more than you’ve been eating, it should hold you until I get back.” He hesitated, seeming torn.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just feel shitty leaving you alone on Christmas.”
That started a laugh out of me. “You know I’m Jewish, right? Mostly lapsed, but still.”
“Shit, yeah, I forgot. That makes me feel better. I’ll only be an hour and a half away, so if you need to talk, call me.”
“I promise I’ll be fine,” I said.
Taking my word for it, Evan headed out. I spent the next three days trying to figure out what to do. Obviously I couldn’t stay with Evan forever, and it wasn’t particularly convenient to get to campus from here. If he still went to Mount Albion, I wouldn’t mind giving him gas money like I used to Angus, and letting him drive me in, but as Evan put it, his college enrollment was “lapsed.” No ready solutions came to me, though I did find out that there was a bus stop a mile and a half away, so, though it wouldn’t be easy, I could get to school from here.
Mostly I glommed TV shows online and felt sorry for myself. But I wasn’t on the verge of breaking; this wasn’t like Eli, after all. Because while he was irrefutably gone, Max was across town, probably feeling as bad as I did. Which shouldn’t have made me feel better, but if I couldn’t be with him, it was sort of comforting to picture us sharing the same pain. It was hard to sleep, so I stared out the window a lot, watching as fat, white snowflakes sputtered down. We got at least two inches as I watched that night, and I didn’t fall asleep until 5:00 a.m. I had no tears left, only a burning regret over the way I broke something so beautiful.
I’m sorry I hurt you.
Because Evan would yell if I didn’t, I made sure to eat. When he came back, he was loaded down with presents and bags of leftovers. He seemed worried, but I was still alive and no worse off than when he’d left. I helped him put stuff away while inspecting the delicacies his mom had sent home: turkey, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, fruit salad, rolls, cherry pie.
“Wow, that’s some haul.”
“She’s convinced I don’t cook.”
“Does she know you’re out of school?”
He nodded, stacking containers in the fridge, which was down to eggs, ketchup and a few bottles of beer. “Yeah, I thought a music degree would be a waste of time.”
“Are you thinking about going back?”
“Maybe. If I can figure out what to do with myself. It pisses me off to waste money.”
“That makes sense.” I took a breath. “I was wondering... Would it be a huge problem if I stayed until graduation?”
“Not for me. It’s nice having a roommate. But are you moving in June? We haven’t really talked about it.” He had to be asking because of the band.
“Maybe. I don’t have my shit together as much as most seniors.”
“No life plan?”
I laughed wryly. “I don’t even have a day plan.”
“Well, as soon as you know, give us a heads-up, okay? Since Dana and Ji Hoo both have another year, if you go, we’ll need to audition keyboardists again.” Evan sounded like he’d rather pull out a few teeth with needle-nose pliers.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“Thanks. You want me to fix you a plate?”
“Nah, I ate already. I’ll have some tomorrow.”
He looked like he wanted to lecture me, but instead he got out some sheet music and a battered notebook. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d make you work on some songs.
This is how far I’ve gotten.”
For the rest of the break, we worked until we managed to finish one of his works in progress. Lyrics didn’t come easy to me, but it was pretty satisfying when we finally produced something to play for Dana and Ji Hoo when they got back. Evan handled most of the melody, though I did come up with a nice bridge. On the downside, it was cold as hell working out in the garage. I was shivering when we finally came in.
“I’m making coffee,” I said.
“Fine by me. Two sugars, no milk.”
As I worked the machine, I wondered what Max was doing, if he had somebody with him. Angus and Kia should be home soon, but I had no idea when. I’d held off on texting them so as not to ruin their trips, though maybe I was giving myself too much credit. Me moving out might register as more of an inconvenience, especially when they heard Max’s side of the story. In this scenario, I was definitely the black hat, though not from bad intentions.
Road to hell, good intentions. Check.
“What’re you worried about?” Evan asked, as I brought the drinks to the living room.
“Just wondering how many friends I’ll lose when the word gets out.”
“Ah. Yeah, dividing up the social circle sucks.”
In the end, it wasn’t as bad as I feared. On January 4, I sent texts to Angus, Nadia and Kia, explaining the situation in brief. Angus replied at once: Seriously? Shit. You guys were so good together. I’ll miss you, C. But we’ll go out drinking next weekend, okay? I’m your DD.
I sent back, Sounds good. Thanks.
It took Nadia half an hour, but she was even more concerned. Are you okay? You want to come over for dinner some night this week? I promise my cooking is better now.
But I couldn’t face the thought of running into Max. So I answered, I want to hang out, maybe we could go out instead?
Nadia’s text pinged five minutes later. Sure, name the night. I’ll make it work.
