This time, she didn’t let me stop her.
She texted Wednesday afternoon: Econ final: PWNED. Whether she knew that term from video games or cat memes, I didn’t care. It was too cute. All because of me, right? I texted back. No, because of that Landon guy, she returned. I laughed out loud, earning a crooked brow from Eve, with whom I was working a double shift. Gwen and Ron had two finals each today, and neither of us had one, so we’d agreed to work practically all day, along with our manager.
‘I need somethin’ hot ’n’ sweet.’ I recognized Joseph’s voice, giving his order to Eve. He rubbed his hands together in his fingerless gloves, trying to warm them. His coat was university-issued and displayed his name. His wool cap, pulled low over his ears, sported our mascot.
She glared at him. ‘I’ll need the name of your desired drink, sir.’ Venom rolled off her. This was going to be funny. Or really painful. Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to step up and make it stop.
Joseph rarely came into the coffee shop, insisting it was all complete hype – overpriced and over-marketed.
He eyed Eve across the counter. ‘Recommendations? I’m not familiar with all the fancy-ass drinks y’all have. Like I said – I want something hot, and sweet. I’m not so sure you’re the one to give it to me, though.’
‘Really? That’s your line?’
His brows angled up and his mouth twisted. ‘Sweetheart, if you’re hopin’ for a line, you ain’t gonna get it from me. You are a far, far cry from my type.’
Eve sputtered, furious. ‘Oh, so “I want something hot and sweet” means “nothing”?’
‘Um, no.’ His eyes were glacial. ‘It means I’d like a hot drink, as opposed to a cold one, and I’d like something sweet – as in with syrup in it. Goddamn. You got a coworker or somethin’ I could order from?’ He glanced over and spotted me, lips pressed together.
‘Lucas, dammit, get me somethin’ –’ he eyed Eve – ‘hot and sweet.’
‘Salted caramel mocha sound good?’
Smiling, he said, ‘Hell, yeah – that sounds perfect.’ His smile dropped when he looked back at Eve, though he was still speaking to me. ‘And thank you for your professionalism.’ I made the drink as he handed over a bill and Eve rang him up silently.
‘See ya next week for that Air Review show,’ he said, taking the cup. ‘Elliott’s sister is comin’ for a visit the week after, by the way. If you wanna join us for dinner one night, I can show off my one smart friend.’
‘Sure thing.’ I laughed. ‘Sounds good, Joseph.’
When he’d gone, Eve glowered at me and said, no inflection: ‘He’s gay, isn’t he.’
‘Yep.’
‘And you just stood there and let me make an ass of myself –’
‘Eve, everything isn’t about you.’ I tapped a finger to her nose to lessen the harsh words. ‘Maybe you should figure that out.’ I turned to wash pitchers before the next wave of finals-freaked customers deluged us.
She huffed a sigh but didn’t reply.
My phone buzzed with one more text from Jacqueline, who had three more exams between now and Saturday to my one: Chinese on Saturday? I need something hot and spicy to celebrate the end of the semester. Kung-pao maybe? *wink* After the previous exchange between Joseph and Eve, I chuckled aloud again. Jacqueline and I had plans to celebrate in her dorm room, after Erin left for winter break.
Me: I think I can make hot and spicy happen
Jacqueline: *fanning* yes please
‘So how did you end up playing the bass?’ I asked, digging in my carton for a broccoli spear. We were sitting side by side on Jacqueline’s dorm-room floor, our backs to her bed.
‘By way of Pee-Wee football,’ she answered. I made a face, my imagination putting her in a football uniform, and she laughed. ‘One of our bass players snapped his collarbone in a game, and our orchestra teacher begged for one of the violins to switch. I volunteered. It was a bonus that my mother wasn’t happy about it.’
‘So your relationship with your mom – not so good, I take it?’
She sighed. ‘Actually, I just told her – about Buck. About all of it. And she cried. She never cries. She wanted to come here.’ A frown creased her brow. ‘I told her I was good, I was strong, and I realized I was.’ She leaned her head back against her bed, her face turned towards me. ‘Because of Erin – and you.’
My mind suggested that this was no bad-boy trait she was praising.
I tipped an imaginary hat. ‘Happy to be of service, ma’am.’
She smiled. ‘She’s making me an appointment with her therapist. At first I agreed because it gave her something to do – some way to help. But when I thought about it, I was glad. I want to talk to someone about what happened. Someone who can help me deal with all of it.’
Our faces were inches apart, and I could have sworn she looked sad for me. Maybe because I didn’t have a mother. ‘That’s awesome. I’m glad your mom was there for you.’
This was not where I wanted this evening to go. I had so little time left with her.
‘What about you? How did you decide to study engineering? I mean, you could have majored in art, probably.’
I shrugged. ‘I can draw whenever I want. It calms me – always has. But I don’t want to do that for anyone but me. As for art in general – I’m not really a painter, sculptor, anything else. Whereas narrowing down my interests in engineering was difficult. I wanted to do it all.’
She smiled. ‘So how did you choose?’
‘Well, skill and opportunity. I hadn’t really considered going a medical route. I thought I’d be designing cars or inventing futuristic stuff like hovercraft. But the opportunity presented itself when Dr Aziz asked me to apply, so I’m game.’
I scrolled through my iTunes list for the playlist I wanted her to hear and handed her both earbuds. Unsurprisingly, she was emotionally attuned to music like no one I’d ever known – an unguarded range of feelings reflected in her eyes as she stared at me, listening. I leaned in to kiss her, and then picked her up, lay her on the bed and stretched out next to her, one arm under her head, the other flat on her abdomen.
When I reached to brush a finger over her ear, she removed one earbud and handed it to me. I dialled the playlist to a song I’d discovered just before I got my last tattoo – four lines now inscribed on to my side, a poem composed by my artistic mother for the analytical man who loved her. The song had triggered the memory of her words, so I’d searched the attic for her poetry notebook the next time I was home. I copied the lines and took them to Arianna, and she added the poem to the canvas of my body, two years ago.
Love is not the absence of logic
but logic examined and recalculated
heated and curved to fit
inside the contours of the heart
Our hands began to wander over each other – my fingers sliding under her shirt as I kissed her. She warned me that Erin could return any moment – apparently her roommate hadn’t left for winter break yet. Something to do with a boyfriend who was trying to win her back.
‘Why did they break up?’ I asked.
I cupped her breast, about to search for the clasp – front or back this time?
‘Over me,’ she said, and I froze. ‘Not like that. Chaz was … Buck’s best friend.’ Her entire body went rigid, just speaking his name, and I pulled her close.
Buck was supposed to be gone, and probably wouldn’t be back next semester – certainly not if Charles had anything to do with it. He knew someone on the disciplinary committee, and I was pretty sure he was going to call in every favour he could.
‘I never told you about the stairwell, did I?’ Jacqueline said then.
I went as taut as she was. ‘No.’
She swallowed. ‘About a month ago, all the washers were full on my floor, so I went down to the second floor to see if they had any machines free.’ Her voice was so subdued that I couldn’t shift positions and still hear her. ‘On the way back up, Buck caught me in the
stairwell. He threatened to …’ She swallowed again, hard, and left the blank for my mind to fill. ‘So I said, “My room.” I thought if I could get him into the hallway, people would be there and they’d hear me tell him to leave and he’d have to go.’
I was holding her too tightly. I registered that, but my muscles had solidified. I couldn’t loosen my grip on her.
‘There were five people in the hall. I told him to leave. He was furious when he figured out what I’d done. He made it look like we’d done it in the stairwell. And from the looks on everyone’s faces in the hall … from the stories that circulated after … they believed him.’
He didn’t get into her room. But he put his hands on her. And he scared her. Again.
I felt the protective rage and excruciating powerlessness building and didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t want to hurt Jacqueline, or frighten her, but I didn’t know what to do with the anger bubbling up inside, threatening to spill over.
I pushed her on to her back and kissed her, pressing a knee between her legs. I felt her struggle and my brain screamed WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING. I tried to pull back – but her hands, freed from between us, stabbed into my hair and held on tight, and she opened her mouth, pulling me inside and kissing me back just as hard.
I shuddered, loving her, loving her so much I could hardly breathe. Wondering if that was how it was supposed to feel to love someone or if I was just fucked all to hell and incapable of loving correctly, because all I felt was this insane, unfillable need, this empty black hole inside my soul. I was breaking apart in her hands, crumbling to nothing.
I had to stop. This had to stop. I’d given her what she wanted, what she needed – and I was in pieces at her feet. How could she not see? I couldn’t play this game any more. I had to save what little of me remained.
I wanted to strip her and possess her one last time. Spread her legs and adore her. Make her cry my name and shudder beneath me. I wanted to pretend, one more night, that I could belong to her. That she could be mine. I lay over her, kissing her, and knew it wouldn’t happen. Her roommate would return any minute, and it was just as well. There was no filling the space I wanted her to fill.
We slowed, lying side by side, and I began to compose my exit lines.
Then she asked about the Hellers, and my parents, and I turned on to my back and answered her questions.
And then – ‘What was your mother like?’
‘Jacqueline –’ I said, as Erin’s key hit the lock.
I got up as she entered, and Jacqueline followed. Erin tried to make like she had laundry to do, but I said, ‘I was just leaving,’ lacing my black work boots and wishing I’d worn my old Noconas so I could shove my feet in and go.
‘Tomorrow?’ Jacqueline said at the door, arms hugging herself.
I zipped my jacket and said, ‘It’s officially winter break. We should probably use it to take a break from each other as well.’
She recoiled, stunned. She asked me why, and I became all logic, no emotion – she was leaving town and I would be, too, for at least a few days Christmas week. She still had to pack, and Charles needed help getting grades posted – which was bullshit, but she had no way to verify that and I knew it.
I told her to let me know when she was back in town, and I bent to kiss her – one quick, barren kiss. Nothing like she deserved. Nothing of what I felt. I said goodbye and walked away.
24
Landon
I knew I wasn’t the only student in the school without a computer, but it felt that way. I usually logged in at the library, or during my programming lab, or at Hendrickson’s. I didn’t have lab or work hours today, though, so I was using the prehistoric computer at Wynn’s Garage.
‘Buy a cheap laptop already,’ Boyce urged. ‘You work all the fucking time so I know you’ve got the cash, and I sure as hell know you aren’t smokin’ it or shootin’ it any more.’
After pulling up the site where I hoped my SAT scores would finally materialize, I waited for the computer to wheeze its way to the login page where I tapped my password. Boyce watched for his father through the plate glass window, grimy from fingerprints, Scotch tape bits, blotches of who-knows-what and decades of no one thinking to buy glass cleaner.
‘Saving for tuition.’ I gave the excuse I used every time I refused to spend money on something. ‘And I never shot up.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He squeezed my bicep. ‘Your big, hard, virtuous arms are reserved for tattoo needles only.’
I shrugged him off. ‘Shut up, man …’
Almost unattainable scores on the SAT were my only hope of scraping my sorry ass into college past the pathetic GPA I could only raise so much. Not even a straight 4.0 this year would be enough. I’d made use of every free online pretest and every study guide in the library for the past eight or nine months. If my scores on this goddamned entrance exam weren’t ridiculously high, I was screwed, and there would be no string Heller could pull to change that fact.
I hit enter, the screen flashed several times, and then there they were: the numbers that determined my future. I sat back in the chair, staring, my heart rate hurtling higher.
I’d done it.
‘Ninety-eighth percentile?’ Boyce’s brows arched and he hooted. ‘Does that mean what I think it means? Shit, man. I knew you were a brain, but holy fuck.’ He grabbed my shoulders and shook them, laughing. Boyce was the only person – Heller aside – who knew how badly I wanted this escape. How much I needed it. ‘Dude, you did it.’
I nodded, still stunned.
‘Oh, man.’ He shoved me. ‘This sucks. I’m going to be stuck in this crap town while you run off and fuck tons of college girls.’
I shook my head and smiled. Leave it to Boyce to zero in on the only part of college that might have appealed to him.
Belatedly, we heard a truck door slam. ‘Shit,’ we said in unison.
The bell over the door jangled right after I cleared the history, shut the computer down, and bolted from the chair, but Boyce’s dad wasn’t a complete idiot.
‘You jackasses looking at porn again on my computer?’ he roared, not even waiting for the door to shut behind him. Thinning hair stood straight up on his head, as though he’d received an electric shock.
Technically, we’d only watched porn on his computer once, though I was pretty sure Boyce still did it whenever he could. We’d come to an unspoken agreement that watching it together was too weird.
‘We were looking up college entrance exam scores,’ Boyce said, tracking his father’s movements. I didn’t even know he could string those words together.
‘Lyin’ sack of shit,’ Mr Wynn growled, lunging. We slid out of his way, Boyce ducking the meaty fist that flew at his head, halfheartedly, the way you’d wave a hand at a fly to shoo it away. His dad cursed us all the way out the door.
Boyce and I had bonded over defective fathers and absent mothers, but that’s as far as the parallels went. His father was an abusive fuck, where mine was silent and detached. His mother left his father – and her two sons – when he was almost too young to remember her. He’d never seemed to hold her desertion against her. I would’ve ditched his ass, too, if I was her, was all he’d ever said about it.
‘Time to celebrate, my man.’ He steered me towards the Trans Am as his father cursed him from the door of the shop.
‘Quittin’ time is at six!’ he bellowed, ignoring the fact that he’d closed up for two hours mid-afternoon to visit a ‘lady friend’ in the next town – a person Boyce and I weren’t certain existed. How any woman could find Bud Wynn attractive was beyond our powers of imagination. ‘You worthless piece of –’
We slammed wing-wide doors shut on the familiar tirade and Boyce turned the key, igniting the stereo, while I grudgingly acknowledged the sounder fact of my father’s muteness.
LUCAS
Jacqueline would be moving home in two days. The space between us was magnetized – I couldn’t think of another way to describe it. I
fought her pull every second of the past twenty hours. I knew exactly where she was, and I wanted to be there. I hoped that once she was gone, once she was further from me, I would get a respite.
Carlie and Caleb were in my apartment, playing video games. They were in that zone – the one where school has let out for two weeks, and there’s nothing but eating and sleeping late and getting presents as far as you can see – because at sixteen and eleven, you can’t see all that far. You think you can … but you can’t.
I can’t say their perspective was contagious, but it was fun to watch.
There was a knock on the door, but I wasn’t expecting anyone. Before I could think, Carlie was up and unbolting the door.
‘Who is it, Carlie?’ I jumped up, going for the bat. ‘Don’t just open the door –’
‘It’s a girl,’ she said, rolling her big, dark eyes.
A girl? What girl? Carlie pulled the door open. ‘Jacqueline?’ I said needlessly, because of course it was Jacqueline, showing up after I’d told her goodbye. ‘What are you doing here?’
She turned to tear down the stairs and without thinking I reached out and seized her arm. Her momentum swung her right into the air. I grabbed her with both hands and pulled her to my chest, my heart stopping, restarting, revving up, and then slamming like a train engine. When she wriggled like she wanted loose, I realized that a pretty girl had answered my door.
‘She’s Carlie Heller,’ I murmured, leaning to her ear. ‘Her brother Caleb is inside, too. We’re playing video games.’
She swayed into me, professing unnecessary apologies into my chest.
The last thing I could feel, holding her in my arms, was sorry. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have come without telling me, but I can’t be sorry to see you.’
I confused her. That was obvious enough. I supplied some implausible excuse about trying to protect her with this separation, and my brain scoffed – liar – while she told me that didn’t make sense.
‘Unless … you don’t want to,’ she said.