Avoidance

by Kristen Granata

  When I finally finished, I kept my head down. “Can you give me a minute, please?”

  He sighed behind me, and then I heard the bathroom door close. I tied my hair up, brushed my teeth, and washed my face, all while completely avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t look at myself. I shuffled into the dimly lit bedroom to change into my pajamas, and slipped into the bed beside Chase. His eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling.

  “We need to talk about this,” he began. “But it’s late… you’re drunk, and I have to get up early tomorrow.”

  “I know,” I replied.

  To my surprise, he wrapped his arm around me, and pulled me over to his side of the bed. I rested my head on his chest, and tried to match his breathing. After I was sure I wouldn’t throw up again, my eyes finally began to close.

  I woke up the next day hugging Chase’s pillow. My head felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, and my throat felt dry and scratchy. On the nightstand sat a water bottle with two aspirin, signaling that Chase had already left for the day. I reached for the pills, and felt a sharp pain slice through my hand, as I remembered being slammed to the ground the night before.

  “I’m a mess,” I mumbled against the mattress.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Dave, asking about my hand. I typed a reply, and scrolled to find Shelly’s name.

  “Are you calling to apologize?” she answered. “Because I don’t want to talk to you unless you’re going to tell me that you’re sorry.”

  “I am sorry, Shell.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I am sorry for being so short with you last night. You know how I get when it comes to my mom, and I can’t help that reaction. I’m sorry that you had to deal with her yesterday. I know you felt like you were being stalked, and it freaked you out.”

  “You sound like shit. Are you sick?”

  “No. I had a rough night.”

  “You’ve been having a lot of those lately, haven’t you?”

  “Please. Not you, too.”

  “Why, has Chase said something to you about your drinking?”

  “He’s been hinting at it.”

  “He sees it. I’m not even there and I see it. This isn’t like you. Is it because of the new friends you’ve made?”

  “No,” I whined, rubbing my head.

  “So then what the hell is going on with you? You’re spiraling.”

  “I’m not spiraling. I called to apologize, you know. Not for a lecture.”

  “I’m not giving you a lecture. I’m asking you to talk to me. Every time I call, you glaze over everything and tell me how it’s all good and fine. I know you better than anyone else, in case you’ve forgotten, and I know you are not okay. I just need you to tell me why.”

  “I don’t know why!” My voice strained to get louder.

  “Merr, maybe you need to come home.”

  “I can’t come home. Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Why not? You’re not a prisoner. You’re clearly going through something, and you’re going through it alone. I know you have Chase, but he isn’t exactly around very often.”

  “If I leave, Chase will want to leave with me. That was the deal. I can’t make him throw everything away just because I want to come home. Not after everything he’s done for me.”

  “Everything he has done for you is because he fell in love with you. You don’t owe him for the rest of your lives. You have worried about everyone else your entire life. You need to worry about yourself for once. Chase is a big boy. He can handle himself. You’re not responsible for him.”

  “No. I can’t ruin this for him. I’m going to get a handle on things. It will all be okay.”

  “Not when you’re working in a bar every night. That’s not exactly the best environment for you to be in, clearly.”

  “This is coming from the one who told me to have a drink to take the edge off.”

  “Oh, so this is all my fault now? I turned you into an alcoholic because I told you to have one drink?”

  “I’m hardly an alcoholic. There are people in that bar every night, doing the same thing I’m doing. You forget, I’ve seen you wasted more times than I can count.”

  “Maybe I should come out there sooner. Another few weeks seems so far away.”

  “No. Don’t be crazy. You have school. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “Look, I have to get to class now. I’m going to call you back later, and we can finish this conversation.”

  “Okay. I have work later tonight.”

  “Maybe you should take the night off.”

  “I just started working there. I can’t take off.”

  She sighed. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay. Bye.” I gulped down the rest of my water, and pulled the covers over my head. I needed to sleep the headache away before work.

  When I awoke, the sun was already setting. My hand was still throbbing, so I popped two more aspirin into my mouth and tried not to get the bandage wet in the shower. All the practice with one arm in a sling was finally good for something.

  Chapter Eight: A Hole in the Chest

  “Hey, Captain Hook,” Dave called as I walked behind the bar at eight o’clock.

  I smirked. “Have you been dying to say that all day?”

  “Oh, I came up with a couple one-liners for your one-hander. In the end, it was a toss-up between Luke Skywalker, and Hook.”

  “I’d rather be Skywalker than Hook!”

  “Skywalker wouldn’t have let those guys knock him to the ground like you did.”

  “Dude, he let Vader chop his hand off.”

  “Did you just dude me?” he asked with a wry smile. “My little New Yorker is turning into a Cali girl!”

  I laughed. “Okay, one: no, I’m not. Two: don’t ever try to do a New York accent again.”

  Dave grinned. “Does it hurt?” he motioned to my hand.

  “It does. The aspirin isn’t doing much to help the pain.”

  “You know what will help with that?” He reached for a bottle of whiskey, and set it down on the bar in front of us.

  I shook my head. “Not tonight.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Suit yourself.”

  I watched as he poured himself a shot glass full of amber liquid. My mouth salivated at the thought. I quickly uncapped a water bottle and took several swigs, though it did not quench the kind of thirst I was experiencing.

  “What happened to your hand, New York?” Jake appeared on the stool in front of me.

  I stuck a Heineken bottle in between my knees, flipped the cap off with my good hand, and slid the bottle to him “I got cut with a piece of glass.”

  “At least you’re resourceful.”

  “Just call me MacGyver.”

  The pain got worse the more I tried to use my hand. I gave up trying to stay away from alcohol. I needed something to take the edge off. Once my hand healed, I told myself, then I would stop. I poured Dave a shot along with mine. One turned into two, as it usually did, and by the end of the night, I had lost count. My hand felt great, though, and the battle wound earned me more tips than usual. Three hundred dollars richer, I stumbled into my apartment after closing.

  I kicked my shoes off in my nightly ritual, and tried to navigate in the darkness. Halfway to the kitchen, I tripped over something on the floor, and crashed into one of the bar stools, letting out an involuntary yelp. I was sitting on the floor holding my foot in my hands when Chase came out of the bedroom, flipping on the kitchen lights.

  “Are you okay?” His eyes were half opened, and his hair was smooshed up on one side.

  “I stubbed my toe.”

  “Let me take a look.” He crouched down and took my foot into his hands. He pushed gingerly on my second toe to see if it would move.

  “That hurts,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Are you drunk right now?” He undoubtedly smelled it on my breath.

  “No!” I said defensively.
>
  “What did you have tonight?” His tone was especially pointed.

  “I had a couple of shots. That’s it.”

  “I thought you were going to take it easy with that.”

  “No, you told me to take it easy.” I pulled my foot away from him, growing more furious by the second. “I’m sorry I woke you up, but I can’t help it if I tripped. It was an accident.”

  He stood, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “You could have helped it if you were sober.”

  I looked around until I spotted a pair of his shoes lying on the floor nearby. “I tripped over these!” I hurled one of his size twelves at him. “And that’s why I fell into the stool!”

  His expression wavered for a moment, realizing his part in the incident. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re drunk. Again.” He sighed. “You know, I told myself to let it go, but I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore, Merritt!”

  My eyes rolled. “You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic. Everybody drinks when they go out, including you! Stop making a big deal out of this. Everything is fine.”

  “Everything is not fine!”

  He shouted so loud, it made me jump. I felt tears threatening to make an appearance. I held my breath, willing them to stay behind my lids. “What do you want me to say?”

  Chase ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “I want you to talk to me.”

  “I am talking to you. You’re not listening.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, but it doesn’t match your actions. I know this move has been hard for you, but don’t go down this path. I don’t want you to turn…” He stopped before finishing his sentence.

  “You don’t want me to turn into who?”

  “Look–”

  “No, finish your sentence! You don’t want me to turn into who? Say it, Chase!”

  “I don’t want you to turn into your father!” His shoulders fell after he let it out. “Is that so bad?”

  I looked down at my toe. It was beginning to turn a deep shade of purple. “I need to put ice on my toe.” I began to stand. Chase leaned down to help me up, but I swatted him away. “I don’t need your help!”

  The old familiar words just slipped out. He looked so hurt that it nearly broke my heart. I wanted to jump into his arms and tell him that I was sorry; I wanted to make it better, but in order to do that, I had to tell him the truth.

  “Fine. I don’t need this shit! I have an early meeting tomorrow.” He turned his back, and walked into the bedroom.

  The tears I had been holding in finally surfaced. I remained on the floor, covering my mouth with my hand in an attempt to muffle the sound.

  Several minutes later, Chase came back out of the bedroom. He rushed over to me when he saw that I was crying. He wrapped his arms around me and held me while I sobbed against his warm skin. “Please talk to me. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

  “I just… I’m having a hard time lately.”

  “With what?” He pulled me away so he could look at me. He brushed his fingers over my forehead lovingly. “Please tell me what is going on in there.”

  “I’ve been having nightmares again.”

  “About your accident?”

  I shook my head. “It’s different. I’m stuck at the bottom of our staircase. I can’t see upstairs, but I know that I can’t go up that way. I try to open the door to get into the bar, but it won’t open. I bang and kick and scream, but all I hear is complete silence. I call for you, but you’re not there. There’s nobody there, and I can’t get out.”

  His eyebrows pushed together. “You’re all alone.”

  I looked away as a tear rolled down my cheek. “Shelly called me tonight. She said my mom was waiting for her outside of her apartment.”

  “What did she want?”

  “To talk to me. Shelly took her number so that she would leave her alone. I guess she didn’t get the hint when I screamed in her face.” I covered my face with my hands. “I just wish she would have left me alone. Everything was fine before she came back.”

  “You need to talk to her, Merr. You can only run for so long. Maybe once you talk to her, all of this will finally stop.”

  I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, and looked into his eyes. They were filled with desperation and worry, and it killed me to know that I was the one causing all of it.

  “Maybe this is all too much.”

  “Too much?” I asked nervously.

  “The gigs, the meetings, always recording in the studio. You’re left alone all day and night.”

  I took a deep breath before I said my next words. I had to be strong, as I had once been not so long ago – like I was before coming to California. “It’s not you, Chase. I think I have a problem.”

  “I know it’s difficult to face your mom, but maybe if you just –”

  “No,” I interrupted. “I think I have a problem. With drinking.”

  A dozen emotions flashed across his face. “Okay. We can fix this.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t help me with this.”

  “Stop pushing me away. You don’t have to go through everything alone. Look at all we have been through together. We have always helped each other get through tough times in the past. Let me help you.”

  I took his beautiful face into my hands. “Chase, this is not me pushing you away. This is me telling you that you need to focus on your life here. You’re in the middle of becoming what you have dreamed of being your whole life.”

  “None of that matters if you’re not okay. I can cut back on gigs and meetings. I’ll talk to George. I’ll figure it out.”

  “No. You need to be doing all of those things in order to get where you want to be.”

  He looked down at my hand as he intertwined his fingers with mine. “I want to be with you. That’s where I want to be.”

  Another tear rolled down my cheek, and his face became blurry. “I will always be with you. Even if we’re not physically together. I just don’t think I can stay here in this environment. I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Well, try. How will you know if you don’t try?”

  “I have been trying.” I reluctantly met his gaze. “I can’t stop.”

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” His voice was low.

  I did not answer. He already knew. I pressed my lips against his, as the tears continued to drop from my eyes. In one fluid movement, he scooped me up off of the floor and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me on the bed, pulling the covers over the both of us. We faced each other in the darkness, our bodies entwined, until we could no longer keep our eyes from closing.

  When I woke up the next morning, Chase had already gone in to the studio. His text read that he planned to return around five o’clock. He cancelled his evening gig to spend our last night together. I quickly texted Dave that I had a stomach bug to get out of work. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I wouldn’t be at work, or in California, ever again. Then, I called Shelly.

  “So, you’re going to have to cancel your plane tickets to come out here,” I began.

  “What?” Shelly screeched. “Why?”

  “Because I’m coming home.”

  It was silent on the other side of the phone.

  “Shell?”

  “What do you mean you’re coming home… like, for a visit?”

  “No, like, for good. I booked the flight before I called you, and now I’m letting you know.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow. Maybe you could pick me up from the airport?”

  “I will,” Brody chimed in. “Just text me the info.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is Chase coming with you?” Shelly asked, though she already knew the answer.

  I hesitated a moment as my heart wrenched out of my chest for the third time that morning. “No. He is staying here.”

  “Did you guys have a fight?”

  “Yes, but that’s not why I’m leaving.”

>   “It’s your drinking.” It was a statement, and not a question.

  I choked back a sob. “I’m scared, Shell. I started something and I don’t think I can undo it.”

  “You will. You can do anything.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’m your best friend. I know you can do anything. You just need to get your mind straight again. How is Chase handling this?”

  I closed my eyes, trying to get the image of his crestfallen face out of my head. “He’s…”

  “Heartbroken,” Brody stated.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, text me your flight information, and we’ll be there tomorrow,” Shelly said quietly.

  “Okay.”

  “Love you, Frog.”

  “Love you, too, Toad.” I pressed the red button on the screen, and let my phone fall onto the mattress. I pulled the covers back over my head, and closed my eyes. I spent my last day in LA alone, alternating between sleeping and crying. It was fitting, I guess.

  * * *

  As I rolled my luggage towards the security guard, the knot in my stomach made its way into my throat.

  “Sir, you can’t go past this point without a boarding pass.”

  I sat my luggage upright, and turned to Chase. This was the part I had been dreading.

  His usual spirited eyes looked so dull today, like all the color and life had been drained out of them. All that remained were two cold grey stones staring back at me. He had not said a word to me since we woke up this morning.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling his scent in the hopes that I could take it with me. “Chase Brooks, I love you more than you can ever imagine.”

  Reluctantly, his hands wrapped around my midsection. “I don’t want to do this.” His voice was low. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

  “Don’t say goodbye. Just say that you love me. Say that everything will be okay, even though we’re going to be millions of miles apart. Say that you’ll call me and text me whenever you can. Say that you won’t forget about me.”