t h i r t y
“Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.”
—Arthur Schopenhauer
When Sam drops me off, I find Royce’s car parked in the driveway.
Why is my brother here? Dad said he wasn’t coming back for a week or two. In fact, now that I think of it, I heard Royce say the same thing—that he’d be in school.
It hits me. Mason told him. I suddenly want to melt into the cracks in the driveway, turn into a tree so I can hide in plain sight or, better yet, poof into a cloud so I can be an untouchable mist melting over the ocean.
If Mason told him, then Royce would come straight down here to talk to Mom and Dad. He would never be able to keep quiet. He’s not like that—he has to get all his emotions out right now. Maybe that’s why he and Jasmine aren’t working out. You can’t tell your significant other everything. Some things you have to keep to yourself.
Why can’t I be eighteen already?
Why can’t I have an apartment of my own?
I just want to leave. But I can’t.
I unlatch the gate, make my way around the back of the house. If I can just slip into the house without him noticing, maybe I can buy some time to figure out what I want to tell them. I don’t want to walk right into some kind of intervention meeting.
The back doors are locked.
They’re never locked.
Royce knows. He’s trying to trap me. He knows all my tricks and probably locked my bedroom window too. Without even checking, I take a few deep breaths and go around to the front door. I take off my shoes and slip in as quietly as I can. Mom and Dad don’t seem to be home. That’s a good sign. Maybe Royce wants to talk to me alone.
No Royce in the foyer.
No Royce in the hall.
No Royce in my bedroom.
I look everywhere in my room. It’s empty. If he were in my bedroom, I’d kill him anyway. As soon as I slump onto my bed my door flies open. It’s Royce.
“There you are.”
I jump. My stomach drops.
There’s something in his eyes.
He knows. He knows. He knows.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I say, panicking. I want to jump out the window. “Can’t you knock? Do I show up to your apartment and just walk in?”
Royce can see I’m furious. He softens. It’s not what I expect.
His eyes change too. I’m confused.
“I just want to talk to you about Jas,” he says.
My heart slows. My panic quickly subsides. “Jesus, Royce.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been on edge for a long time. It’s this breakup.” He doesn’t step into the room yet. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” I say, my tone still angry. “Close the door, idiot.”
He’s like a sad little boy as he looks around like he’s never seen my room before. “Haven’t been in here in a while.” He makes his way to my couch. “You still have this?”
“Yeah. So what?”
He shrugs and thumbs through a book on my couch, then sets it aside. “Liv, I really don’t know what to do. I still love Jas. And I know—I know—she loves me...”
Now I feel bad. Royce doesn’t want to get me in trouble. He just wants to talk about his own problems. What can I say to comfort him?
My mouth opens, but words are hard to get out. It’s like I can’t articulate anything. “So...what are you gonna do?”
He thinks hard. His wheels really spin. “I don’t know. Everything was going great. We were making all these plans. Plans for after graduation. Travel plans. Possibly getting engaged... She just...she’s like you, so independent.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
He backpedals. “I don’t mean it like that. I really don’t. I just mean...”
“Aren’t you independent? What’s wrong with people being independent? I don’t buy this whole ‘she’s independent’ thing as the reason you broke up. I don’t think she would leave you because she wanted to just be on her own.”
He pauses a moment, then says, “I think she’s scared to admit that one of us might have to sacrifice our dream for the other. I guess maybe I am a little too.”
I’m shocked that he would tell me any of this. I’m no relationship fixer. I can barely face my own problems. I don’t know how to fix myself any more than Royce knows how to repair his relationship. All I know is, they seemed perfect for each other. They really did.
“When I saw you and Zach at the fund-raiser,” he says, “it reminded me of when Jasmine and I first started dating. We were in high school too.”
“Why does that matter?” I ask. “You’ve been together a long time. You and Jas have been through a lot more than Zach and me. That must mean something.”
“I’m trying to get in touch with what made things work for me and Jasmine. Maybe you know something.”
“I don’t know anything,” I say. “I haven’t talked to her lately.” Maybe that came out too harsh. I actually do miss Jas. I want to talk to her. But I’m also kind of mad at her. It feels like she broke up with our entire family. Like, now that she’s not with Royce, maybe I won’t mean anything to her either.
“I don’t mean like that,” he says. “I just want to ask about this thing with Zach. Maybe it will help me understand what Jasmine and I were all about. When you first start dating, is it really just this comfortable honeymoon?”
Nothing about our relationship has been a comfortable honeymoon. At first I thought dating Zach might be slightly glamorous, but the fact that his job and my family put us in the public eye makes everything more difficult.
“How am I supposed to know that? We’re still getting to know each other. And I have all this...” I stop for a second, thinking of how messed up I’ve been for practically this whole year. “Stress. How’s that a honeymoon?”
He nods. “Yeah...that must be hard. I mean, so like, what do you see in Zach? Why do you like him?”
I’m already uncomfortable with these questions. Why did I agree to talk to Royce? What do I say? That Zach’s attractive? Talented? Charming? That he’s a success? All those things?
“I need someone to love,” I say.
“Does he love you?” Royce asks. He seems so lost.
“He said he does. I don’t know—it’s what people say.”
Royce shakes his head. None of this is helping.
Things have been sort of strained between us since Zach started acting weird at the LeFeber show a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know where we stand right now.
“Look, I can only say this. Maybe you need to let Jasmine know that people do sometimes make each other better. I know it sounds cheesy, but you have to ask yourself, ‘Do I make Jasmine a better person?’ You said that she was afraid that one of you might need to make a sacrifice for the other. Maybe she’s afraid of having to give up everything she worked so hard for? If you really love her, maybe you have to consider giving up something for her.”
“But...”
“Look, Royce, I love you, but don’t ask me any more relationship questions. It’s too weird.” He seems to get it and hugs me before he leaves the room.
It’s not a big hug. It tells me that I haven’t said enough. But how can I answer Royce’s question when I can’t answer my own? He’s got me thinking what Zach means to me, and that’s enough to make me nervous, because, like him, I don’t know.