Chapter 22
“I don’t like it,” Matty said. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the steering wheel.
“I have to take Matt’s side on this one, Louie.” Sierra turned from the passenger’s side to address me. I counted the number of telephone poles we passed: twenty-seven.
“I don’t understand why he couldn’t have dropped you off on his way to pick something up for Mickelson. It’s not life-threatening, right?” Matt continued.
I cringed, not sure how far I wanted to take this little lie. If they heard the real reason, the night most likely would end with me, Nick, and Sierra making bail for Matty.
“No, it’s fine. He offered to take me home, and I told him I’d call you guys. No problem there.” I stabilized my voice, worried they might hear the slight wobble in my feeble attempts not to cry.
Because part of the problem? Gavin didn’t offer. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. My stomach felt like someone took a razor and gouged out my insides as I processed the ugly truth. This behavior existed for some time. I finally allowed myself to recognize he would always put her first.
As much as I wanted him, I couldn’t be in a relationship where another woman was more important than me.
Stupid, stupid Louise.
Regardless if they were intimate or not, I was no masochist. Once I came to a conclusion, any resolve to control my waterworks escaped me.
Sierra turned in her seat. “Oh, sweetie.”
“Fucking loser, I knew it.” Matt connected his fist with the dashboard.
“You’re not helping. Especially if we get into an accident.” Quick to respond, Sierra’s voice laced with warning. “And if you crash my car, I’ll be royally pissed.”
Matt ignored Sierra. “Louie, you’re going to tell us everything once we get back to the house. Because this shit ends now.”
“Are you shitting me, Mateo? Now is not the time to boss her around,” Sierra admonished. “Louie, you take as much time as you want, and if you want to talk, we’ll be here.” She cast me a smile before her face turned into a scowl, directed at Matt.
“Seriously,” I heard her say under her breath. Then, she whacked his shoulder.
Matt didn’t respond. I think he realized Sierra’s smack-down would only increase exponentially if he didn’t stop with the commentary.
I got what he said, though. He was my best friend and hell, if the professor fucked him up? I’d get her ass fired. Okay, maybe I didn’t have the cajones to follow through with her termination, but I would threaten her ass something fierce.
I got it. He wanted me to talk because I tended to clam up and would lose all interest in food. Hoping I might eventually evaporate away to nothing.
I used what remaining energy I had left on telephone pole counting, diverting my attention from the craptastic relationship I failed to maintain. My heart ached something fierce. At least they couldn’t hear the tears as they formed an escape route down my cheeks.
I shuffled inside, bee-lining toward the kitchen, putting a pot of water on the stove. I found some Kleenex and tried wiping away the evidence of this sucky night.
My nerves felt like they were digging their way out of my skin like an alien, and nothing calmed my mood like some Earl Grey with a touch of milk. Typically, one sip and my heart rate decreased by a third. Two sips and normalcy returned.
Tonight? I had a feeling an entire box worth of tea wouldn’t settle my nerves. Two pairs of eyes followed me from the opposite side of the counter as I prepared my tea.
“Lou?” Matt asked.
“Not now, Matt,” Sierra threatened.
His audible sigh coupled with hair ruffling signaled his mood. I ignored them as I poured boiling water into my Newsom University mug. A touch of milk, and I found the couch.
No use stalling the inevitable any longer. With the trusted throw pillow close to my stomach, I welcomed Maynard, who had popped out of Sierra’s room when we got back, to curl up next to me.
I waited, not before taking a few breaths, establishing whether I would cry or not. Though actually talking might not change the outcome. But I was strong. I had my tea. I was bulletproof. Sort of. Maybe not.
“He left me. I’m sure it was the same girl who texted him in the past. She texted and called, and he said he had to leave. I guess to be fair, he asked me to stay. Said he would be back later.”
“Fucking shithead,” Matt declared.
“Matt, shut it.” Sierra elbowed him in the ribs as they sat on the loveseat kitty corner to the couch.
“Who’s a shithead?” Nick asked, closing the front door. “And why are you home, Louie?”
“Fucking Gavin left her at his fucking place and took off as soon as some fucking slut called.”
“We don’t know she’s a slut, Matt.” Don’t ask me why I defended her, but I was almost positive they weren’t having sex. Until Nick decided to ask more questions.
“Is he sleeping with her or something? Aren’t you two exclusive?”
“Well―”
“I’m sure the bastard’s sleeping with her,” Matt interrupted.
“You are not helping the situation.” Sierra pointed at Matt, and I worried for his well-being.
“Let’s think about this. Have you slept with him yet?” Matt probed as Nick made his way to the recliner.
“Well, no.” Would he leave me because I hadn’t put out yet? I barely said yes to us being together.
Matt’s probing endured. “And you remember he’s had a lot of fuck buddies in the past, right?”
I covered my face. My elbows rested on my thighs. “He’s had sex a lot. But he said he hasn’t in almost a year. And we were exclusive. I mean, I told him earlier this week I officially wanted to date him. He promised I was the only one. I don’t think he lied. But—”
“But since you didn’t put out, he can’t wait any longer, and now he’s fucking the bitch.” Matt would not be chairing Gavin’s fan club anytime soon, and I realized Gavin would need an amazing story if he wanted to have any chance of redeeming himself in the eyes of my best friend.
Yep, Matt’s last comment annihilated the final straw for Sierra. She punched him on the shoulder. “Ugh, shut the hell up. And you,” she pointed at Nick, “why aren’t you saying anything. You’re his friend. Help us understand what the hell he’s thinking instead of continuing to let Louie think he’s sleeping with someone else.
“And I’m this close to kicking both your asses out of the house for the night. How the fuck does it help Louie to think about him sleeping with some other chick. It doesn’t.” She pointed her finger back and forth between the two guys.
“Hey,” Nick defended, “I’m not saying he’s sleeping with someone else, here.”
I concentrated on Maynard, his fur soft like cotton under my fingertips.
“I don’t know, you guys.” I focused more on Maynard than my friends. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be second fiddle to someone else, when he can’t even tell me what’s going on. I deserve to be first, don’t I?”
I braved a look though the images of my friends blurred while my nose became more congested. Because this once I wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be kept.
“Oh, Louie, absolutely you do.” Sierra came and sat next to me, her arm enclosed around me. “But you’re right. You should be first, and he should know better. Look, if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”
“Fucking. Bullshit,” Matt said.
“We could find him and bring him back here. Make him explain himself. Because I’m sure he has a good explanation. Especially if he knows he might lose you,” Nick offered.
“Then castrate him,” Matt added.
“Okay, out. You can leave.” Sierra stood up, and held open the front door for Matt.
“For fuck’s sake. Fine. No castration.” Matt shook his head.
Tired of the conversation, I hoisted myself from the couch. Thankful the tea still warmed my hands, I withdrew to my room. Let them figure out my love life without me.
My legs crossed as I cozied onto the bed comforter. I’m not sure how long I sat there, as everything in the room merged into one another, including time. Buzzing interrupted my trance. I rummaged for my phone in my purse and flinched at the flurry of text messages.
I was hoping you would be here when I got back.
I miss you.
Lou?
Sorry I left in such a hurry.
Please call me when you get this.
I know it wasn’t very mature of me, but I turned my phone off, attached it to the charger, and turned off the lights. Maybe in my sleep everything would dissipate, and I could start all over again.
~ ~ ~
I woke up groggy, puffy-eyed, and annoyed sleep couldn’t erase reality. I had pretty much remained a zombie over the weekend and holed up in my room. Thankfully Sierra understood all about the heartache from breakups and kept the boys away from me.
Who knew how easy I had fallen asleep anytime I wasn’t working on homework or practicing. Who knew breakups could endure with this level of tedium?
By Monday, I ran on vapors, still ignoring his texts. And when Wednesday arrived, I had to figure something out because I still sucked at theory and sight-singing.
Procrastinating my way to room 251, I finally gave in and read the text.
Lou, I fucked up. Let me explain. Please don’t shut me out.
Shut him out? I’m certain he shut me out. He left me. He refused to tell me anything about her. He chose her over me.
Unfortunately, Haven scheduled a test tomorrow, leaving me no choice but to see Gavin for tutoring. Otherwise I would have skipped the session without even thinking twice. For the time being, I avoided the reality we weren’t going to work out after all. Then I could shove it in Dr. Liz’s face I wasn’t ready for all the shit associated with falling in love.
Who sang Love Stinks? They weren’t kidding. I took out my phone and googled Love Stinks song and up popped The J. Geils band. From 1980. Dang, it was an old song. Probably popular when my parents were kids.
I remained standing outside the door Googling more songs from the J. Geils band, while listening to Gavin play one of his songs on his stupid soundtrack. As much as my stall tactic kept me from seeing Gavin, I still had a test to prepare for. Curse Haven and her you’ll be lucky if you get a C exams. I ran through my rules of engagement:
1) Remain professional.
2) Don’t let him hug you.
3) Tell him it sucks to be second.
4) Get the hell out of there and run.
Literally run. Because his legs were long. And in shape. And he could totally take me down hopping on one foot because I was no sprinter.
I puffed my cheeks out and released all the air before leaning into the door. Turning the knob, I exhaled. Here went nothing.
“Lou,” he said. The music abruptly stopped, and he grasped the top edge of the piano.
I ignored him, and bee-lined to the desk in the middle of the first row. After I placed my backpack on the floor, I retrieved my notes for the exam tomorrow.
“I have a huge test tomorrow in sight-singing, and I hoped we could do some intervals and transcription.” My lips smooshed together in a painful smile.
I tried. I did.
Gavin cupped the back of his neck and leaned his head back. He straightened his back, and I noticed a muscle twitch along the edge of his jaw. “You promise we’ll talk afterward?”
“Sure.” Only a partial lie. Because I had no intention of listening to what he had to say. I’d say my peace and leave. Let him stew because I wasn’t about to continue this emotional hamster wheel.
“Okay.” He released his grip on the piano and stood up, advancing upon me.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I backed away from him in sync with his approach.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the piano playing intervals or making up harmonies and shit for me to decipher?” I pointed back toward the piano, hoping his legs would walk him back to the bench.
“Well, I thought I’d give you a hug, and maybe see what you wrote on your study sheet?”
I backed up against the desk, forcing an awkward shimmy to the seat. “Oh, well. Uh, I don’t think you want to hug me.” I leaned over, unzipped my backpack, and grabbed my pencil case.
“No? Pretty sure I do. I missed you. I hoped you’d be home when I got back.”
“Okay, not talking about it now, remember? And no hugs. I have a rash.” I rummaged through my pencil case and pulled out a mechanical pencil and eraser pen.
“You have a rash.”
“Yes, um. Got it last night, contagious, like poison ivy type random rash. You definitely don’t want to touch me. Like, I’d stand there and not come any closer.”
Gavin stood in front of my desk, arms folded.
I pointed to my study guide sheet. “You may not even want to touch this either.” I shifted it one-hundred eighty degrees. He didn’t buy my rash excuse, but I think I made it clear I wasn’t ready for any physical contact.
Touching him would absolutely distract me, and negate rule number two of no hugging, which meant I’d never get through the rest of the list.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the sheet, and then me. Turning back toward the piano, Gavin mussed his hair. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” His voice hardened in anger with me. When he should have been apologizing for hurting me. He was the one in the wrong, not me.
He played a few chords, and I wrote them down, not having any success. His temper flared as he pounded the keys, the forte of the dynamics and the intensity of the chords matching his mood.
“Tell me what you have written down.” The playing stopped, and he marched over to my desk again. I leaned back in my seat, not certain if he wanted to hurt me or hold me.
With his pencil, he circled my errors. “This is wrong, it’s a half-diminished ninth chord into a major. Why are you making these stupid mistakes?” He circled another chord, and I watched as the tip of lead flew across the desk onto the floor.
“Look, I will never be the musical genius you are, okay? Can we try some more?” My speech matched the frustrated pitch in his voice.
“You know what? No. We’re done. It doesn’t matter how many times I play. You already know this, and you’re not focusing. This is fucking ridiculous. You don’t return my texts or phone calls. We’re not in fucking middle school.”
My lower lip quivered, remembering my first talking point. Remain professional. “Fine.”
I closed my staff notebook and placed the study guide in my sight-singing folder. Both items went into the backpack and I meticulously zipped it closed. The sound of the zip filled the room, along with his heavy breathing, and my pounding heart.
I rose from the seat, secured the pack on my shoulders, and moved around to the other side of Gavin. Closer to the door, preparing for rule number four.
I inhaled for three full seconds and willed myself not to cry. Not this time. “Here’s the deal. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t remain second to whomever it is you run to every time she cries.”
“It’s not like that.” He reached out for me, but I backed up, evading his touch even though my body screamed in protest.
“Please, let me finish.” I held up a hand.
“Okay, fine.” He tucked his fingers into the creases of his now folded arms.
“I deserve to be first, not some other girl. I know you say it’s not what I think, and there’s no attraction there, it still hurts. You won’t tell me who she is, and then you take off as soon as she says boo. This royally sucks, because I’m certain I’m falling in love with you. And it hurts too much.”
“Jesus.” He tried to reach for me again, but I moved a step closer toward my escape.
“You have to let me go.” Feeling my stomach sink, I ran out of the room with tears blurring my line of sight, silently praying he would listen.