The Anti-Relationship Year

by Katie Wismer

He looked like he meant it too. Despite it being the middle of the night, despite this not being the first time she’d called him for something like this, despite him now being half naked in below-freezing temperatures because of her.

  As he pulled into the parking lot and shifted the car into park, Jo’s body reacted before she could think twice. She climbed onto his lap.

  His eyes widened. “Jo—”

  She grabbed his face with both hands and pressed her mouth to his, and for a moment, he didn’t move. His entire body was stiff, his hands frozen in the air. But after one second passed, then two, his hands slowly fell to her waist, and his mouth opened. His breath came out shakily. Jo ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself against his chest as she swept her tongue across his. And for a moment, she felt like she could melt into him. He was safe and warm and good and—

  His hands tightened around her waist, and he pulled back.

  She blinked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw tightened, and a line formed between his eyebrows. “You’re drunk,” he said.

  “Well, obviously.” She didn’t see what that had to do with anything.

  He swallowed hard and looked away. “Let’s get you inside.”

  As he opened the door and climbed out from under her, she sank back into the driver seat, her chest suddenly much heavier than it was before. Her eyes stung, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

  Miller knelt in front of her, forcing his face into her line of sight. He looked into her eyes, his jaw set off to the side, and for moment, just the smallest flicker of a second, his eyes dropped to her lips. But then his expression hardened, his eyes closing off to her. “Jo. I don’t want to do this when you’re drunk. If you woke up tomorrow and regretted it, I would never forgive myself, okay?” He brushed her hair away from her face. “Now will you please let me take you inside? It’s freezing.”

  She nodded and stumbled out of the car, tripping over the stupid wedges she’d worn tonight. She stumbled and pitched forward, but Miller’s arms shot out and wrapped around her waist, steadying her against his chest.

  “Shit, Jo,” he murmured. Then without warning, he swept her into his arms and started carrying her toward the dorm.

  Jo had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She buried her face against Miller’s chest and muttered, “I hate that fucking song.”

  When they reached her room, he set her back on her feet so he could wrestle the door open. She stumbled inside, running directly into her desk by the door, and let out a string of curses as she lurched forward. Miller caught her around the waist before she had a chance to hit the ground, and in doing so, he ran into the desk, this time knocking it back hard enough that it slammed into Jo’s bedframe with an audible thunk.

  “Ow,” Jo complained as she hit the ground on her knees, Miller practically on top of her.

  “Goddamn it!” The desk lamp on Kayleigh’s side of the room flickered on, and she glared down at them from her bed. At least, Jo thought she was glaring. Her vision was still a little too blurry to be certain. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” said Miller as he slid his arms under Jo and lifted her upright. “This will just take a minute.”

  “Sorry, Kayleigh,” Jo slurred, swaying on her feet.

  “You should’ve just left her there,” Kayleigh muttered, then snapped off the light, casting the room back into darkness.

  “She’s mad,” Jo whispered.

  “Come on.” Miller steadied her against the bed and sifted through her desk until he found the switch for her lamp. Jo squinted at the light, fingers futilely trying to undo the button on her jeans.

  She threw her head back against the bed and groaned. “I can’t sleep in these.”

  “Jo,” Kayleigh growled, her voice half muffled by the pillow. “I swear to God—”

  “Here.” Miller lifted her onto the mattress, his entire head pointedly turned the other way as he finished unbuttoning her jeans for her and pulled them off her legs.

  “Are you mad at me, too?” Jo whispered.

  “No, Jo,” Miller murmured as he helped her slide between the sheets. “I’m not mad.”

  He turned to leave, and she reached out to grab his wrist. He paused, his other hand hovering over her lamp as he met her eyes. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just looked at him. He squeezed her hand gently and flipped off the light. “Good night, Jo.”

  “Good night, Miller,” she whispered as the door clicked shut behind him.

  Jo woke up the next morning to a small army trying to break out the front of her skull. She rolled over with a groan and desperately reached around her bedside table for some water. Her stomach roiled, and she clamped a hand over her mouth until the feeling passed. She glanced down to find herself in a sweatshirt she didn’t recognize and no pants. She was still wearing underwear, so that was a good sign. As she twisted to inspect her face in the mirror, she caught a whiff of the sweatshirt.

  Miller.

  It had to be Miller’s.

  But when had she seen Miller last night?

  If she ended the night in his sweatshirt, he must have come to her rescue again. He must have been so angry with her. Pushing her hair back from her face, she froze, hands flying to her ears. Her notably naked ears.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, there was a light knock on her door, and Miller poked his head in.

  “Oh, good. You’re up.” He stepped all the way into the room, and Jo realized Kayleigh wasn’t here. Her entire side of the room looked untouched—bed made, desk clean, bag gone. Maybe she was with that guy she started seeing a few weeks ago.

  “How are you feeling?” Miller asked.

  Jo pointed to her ears. “Did you take off my earrings last night?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “Was I…supposed to?”

  Jo slumped back against the wall. “I guess I lost them. Damn, those were my favorite hoops. What happened last night? Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing.”

  Miller shifted by the door, but didn’t say anything at first. “You…don’t remember any of it?”

  She reached for her water bottle again. “Not much past the fifth tequila shot. I didn’t throw up on you, did I?”

  He looked away and scratched the back of his neck.

  “Oh my God!” Jo covered her mouth with her hands. “Did I throw up on you?”

  “No, no.” Miller shook his head, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. “Nothing like that. I did have to come find you laying in the middle of a field last night, though.”

  Jo scrunched her nose. Maybe that’s why her skin felt so itchy. “What the fuck was I doing in a field?”

  “Hell if I know. But it was like ten degrees last night and you were insisting that you wanted to walk home.”

  Jo motioned to the sweatshirt. “I’m assuming that’s where this comes in.”

  He nodded then looked away again. Hopefully she didn’t flash him or something last night. But her jeans appeared to be in a pile on the floor next to her bed, so at least she’d waited until she got home to start undressing.

  “Do you hate me?” she asked.

  He stared at her for a second, and there was something behind his eyes she couldn’t understand. It was like he was…deciding something. But then his expression relaxed back to his usual smirk, and he rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Now would you get dressed so we can go get breakfast? I’m starving.”

  14

  Senior Year - March

  Jo’s parents picked her up in their rental car shortly after the tow driver dropped her off at her apartment, leaving her little time to get ready for dinner. Besides jumping in the shower to rinse off the mud, throwing on a nice dress, pulling her wet hair into a bun, and wiping off the smeared makeup under her eyes, she hadn’t been able to do much. Especially now that she was limping slightly from her ankle. Her mother tsked as she climbed
in the car, but didn’t comment.

  Jo sat quietly in the backseat until they reached the restaurant. Her mind had gone from a dizzying kaleidoscope of thoughts to…nothing, like her system had finally gotten too overwhelmed and shut down. She numbly followed along as a host in a crisp black uniform showed them toward a round table at the back, right next to the windows. It looked out at the restaurant’s terrace, which was strung up with twinkle lights. A fire pit sat at the center, surrounded by intricately carved benches for seating.

  Her parents chatted about their flight next week to Denmark as they ordered a bottle of wine and picked up their menus. Jo stared at the empty seat across from her with unfocused eyes, the room in front of her barely registering.

  She was still back in the car. Rain hammering down all around them. Miller’s skin hot against her own. His breath on her neck. His voice in her ear. His lips—

  “Where’s Miller?”

  Her father’s voice snapped her back to the present, and she blinked at him.

  “He—uh—might not be able to make it after all. Something came up.”

  Her mother’s face fell. She licked her lips before leaning forward and dropping her voice to a whisper. “Did he break up with you?”

  “God, Mom.” Jo rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair as the waiter reappeared with three glasses and a bottle of red wine. She wasn’t particularly fond of the stuff, but figured her parents would disapprove if she started throwing back shots of tequila just to make it through the evening with them. Judging by the wine’s label, it wasn’t cheap.

  Her mother shrugged innocently before picking up her glass and swishing the liquid around. Her father was typing something furiously on his phone. She waited halfheartedly for either of them to ask how her interview had gone—not that she wanted to talk about it, but it was the principle of the matter—but then the waiter reappeared to take their orders.

  Her father finally glanced up from his phone, looking startled for a minute, like he’d forgotten where he was. He glanced from Jo to the empty seat beside her. “Where’s Miller?” he asked.

  “You already asked that,” Jo reminded him, stifling a yawn.

  “Oh.” He frowned.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Jo felt him before she saw his face. His hand skimmed her back as he slid into the seat beside her, a wave of shampoo hitting her as he passed. She stared at a suit-clad Miller with wide eyes as he reached over to shake her father’s hand.

  “My car got a flat, and it took forever at the shop.” He pushed back his hair as he took his seat, Jo’s mother cooing at him all the while about how she hoped everything was okay, and how they understood, and it was so good to see him, despite having just met him the day before.

  Miller smiled along politely, and it wasn’t until the waiter reappeared with another wine glass that Miller finally looked up and met Jo’s gaze. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Jo wondered if his mind was as much of a tangled mess as hers was. If the same images were flashing behind his eyes. If he could still feel her on his skin the way she could feel him.

  If the turmoil and confusion inside of him was so violent he also felt like he was on the verge of being sick.

  He smiled, the gesture slow and soft, just the barest curl of the corners of his mouth. She felt herself smiling back before she realized it, and the tight ball of heat in the center of her chest somehow eased and magnified at the same time.

  “So, Miller,” said Jo’s mom. “Are you from Oregon?”

  He held the eye contact for another beat before glancing over at her mom. “California. But I moved up here to actually experience more than one season for once.”

  Jo’s mom laughed much more than the joke warranted, practically glowing under Miller’s attention. “Are your parents excited for graduation?”

  “Yeah, my mom and sister are coming. Don’t worry, you won’t be able to miss them. They’ll be the ones screaming and possibly getting kicked out.”

  “And your father?” her mom pressed.

  Jo widened her eyes, trying to get her mom’s attention, but she was leaned forward, head propped in one hand, fully fixated on Miller.

  Miller’s smile stayed intact, though some tension crept into the creases around his eyes. “No, uh, he won’t be there.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Jo’s mom reached over and squeezed her husband’s arm. “We would’ve loved to meet him. Is he working?”

  Jo tried to kick her under the table, but their seats were too far apart.

  “My dad’s not in the picture, actually.” Before Jo’s mom had the chance to push, as they both knew she would, he added, “He’s in prison, and my mom has a restraining order against him.”

  The color immediately drained from her mom’s face, and she opened and closed her mouth. “I—I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Miller assured her. “He hasn’t been around since my sister Alice was born, and my mom’s amazing, so we were definitely better off.”

  Jo’s mom swallowed nearly half of her glass of wine in a single gulp.

  “What does your mother do?” Jo’s dad offered.

  “She’s a therapist. She specializes in domestic abuse victims.”

  A heavy blanket of silence settled over the table, and Jo’s eyes darted from Miller to her mom, desperately searching for a way to change the subject.

  “She sounds amazing,” Jo’s mom finally said. “I hope we have the chance to meet her at graduation.”

  Apparently unperturbed by her previous misstep, Jo’s mom wasted no time before jumping back in and lobbing more questions at Miller, but he handled them all with ease, the smile never leaving his face. He reached over and brushed his fingers against Jo’s knee, then left them there, just the smallest hint of contact, but it burned right through her skin.

  As the meal wrapped up, Miller offered to give her a ride back with him, and she agreed, though the idea of getting back in that car made her stomach tighten. They lingered on the terrace behind the restaurant and waved as Jo’s parents pulled away. The night was cool, and it was too cloudy to make out any stars. Even the moon was barely visible. They stood in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the bubbling fountain behind them.

  “Here.” He was sliding the jacket of his suit over her shoulders before she even realized she’d been shivering, and she huddled into the collar.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly.

  “It looks better on you anyway.” He rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbows and wrapped his hands around the metal gate in front of them, the cords of muscles in his forearms straining as he tightened his grip. He stared ahead at the faintest outline of the city. Jo turned around and leaned her back against the railing, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “That could’ve gone worse, right?” he finally said.

  She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it could have. Sorry about my mom, though.”

  He laughed. “She’s…passionate.”

  Another beat of silence passed between them, and she dropped her gaze to her feet. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show up tonight.”

  “Of course I did,” he said immediately. “I told you I would.”

  She swallowed, lost for a response. The air was slowly growing thicker between them, the silence heavier with each passing moment. “Your car’s okay then?”

  He nodded and twisted around, propping his body next to hers, close enough that their shoulders touched. She was hyperaware of the contact in a way she’d never been before, until the press of his body against hers was all she could feel. “Ready to head home?”

  She nodded and pulled his jacket tighter around her shoulders as she leaned away from him, breaking the contact. Her hair was still slightly damp, and with every gust of the breeze that swept across the terrace, a new chill buried itself beneath her skin.

  She couldn’t meet Miller’s eyes as they climbed into the car, and she sat up straight, refusing to let her eyes drift to the back se
at. Miller cleared his throat as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot wordlessly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove. The restaurant wasn’t far from their apartment building, barely a few miles, but the drive seemed to stretch on forever, the silence building into something else with each passing moment.

  Were they supposed to act like it never happened? Or maybe it would be better to talk about it and just get it out of the way. But even then, what would she say? The entire car smelled the way his skin had, and it was impossible to think while her head was full of it.

  It was impossible to think about any of this at all. Every time she tried, her entire body repelled the idea, blocking and repressing the memories with a desperate ferocity.

  She jumped out of the car the moment he pulled into the parking lot and hurried toward the building.

  “Jo!” A car door slammed behind her, followed by heavy footsteps, but this only made her quicken her pace. Suddenly she was frantic to get inside, frantic to get away from this feeling that was consuming every inch of her. “Jo!” Miller called again, his footsteps right behind her now.

  She pushed through the front door and headed for the stairwell, her body too full of anxious energy to stand still in an elevator right now. Miller followed after her, but instead of stopping at the first floor to head to his apartment, he followed her up flight after flight until they reached the sixth floor.

  He didn’t call out to her again, now following behind silently until they reached her apartment in the middle of the hall. Her hands fumbled with the keys, trying to get it in the lock. Miller calmly reached over, laying his hand over hers, and twisted the knob.

  She froze, the apartment door now cracked open, and stared at its wooden surface. Miller sighed and leaned against the wall next to her, his eyes on his hands. “Can I come in?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded, still unable to speak, and stepped inside. Miller slipped in after her, closing the door behind them.

  “Jo.”

  A beat of silence passed. She met his eyes, and then he had her pressed against the wall, his lips melding with hers. She gasped, frozen for only a second before she relaxed against him and twisted her fingers into his hair. God, it was even more all-consuming than the last time. His hips grinded against hers, his tongue filling her mouth, his hands gliding up and down her body like he was desperate to touch every part of her and couldn’t get there fast enough.