“Let’s take the Audi,” he suggested.
I’d driven his car before, but not often. A vehicle that expensive made me nervous. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ll hand over my keys when we get there.”
Angus drove us to 42 North, a bar cunningly named after its own address. It was the closest thing Mount Albion had to a hipster bar, where students and townies could mingle. Typically, the blue-collar types drank across town, however, at the place off the interstate. So at the tail end of happy hour, we had some men in business suits, a few people I recognized from campus and some older folks. Interesting mix, not too exciting, but it was Thursday. Tonight, they had a piano player, plinking out old favorites from my mom’s day.
“Well, this is...mellow,” Angus said with a lip curl. “I suppose they’ll play ‘Piano Man,’ and everyone will weep into their beers.”
“Don’t be snide. You came here to get drunk, not bitch about ambiance.”
“Can’t I do both? I’m an excellent multitasker. Watch. Excuse me! Vodka and cranberry for me, ginger ale for the lady.” While we waited for our drinks, he whispered in my ear all of the things that were wrong with this bar and its patrons.
In a bitchy mood, Angus could be beyond mordant, but he was also hilarious. I snickered as the bartender delivered the first round. “Paying cash or should I start a tab?”
“A tab, definitely.” He handed over a platinum AmEx, courtesy of his dad. I usually didn’t notice the difference in our circumstances, but it was weird to realize how little money meant to him. He’d probably never scrimped or saved a day in his life.
The bartender brightened when he saw the card and service became brisk. I nursed two ginger ales while Angus polished off what I reckoned to be nearly a fifth of vodka by himself. As I’d promised that morning, he was drunk off his ass when I helped him to the car. Once he was buckled in, I ran around to the driver’s seat, somewhat excited about taking the wheel. The inside was posh leather and fine engineering.
On the way home, Angus sang the Spice Girls at the top of his lungs. Rather than fight it, I found “Wannabe” on his hard drive and blasted it. His good humor lasted until we pulled into the parking lot, then he turned with a horrified face. I guessed where this was going.
“Open the door, honey. Fast.”
Clumsily, he did, and he barfed all over the pavement. Better than the car. Wincing, I waited until he was done heaving, then I went around to help him out. Managing that without either of us falling down in the vomit was a feat worthy of the circus. My shoes took a hit, but friends before Converse, or something like that.
“I want to die,” Angus was moaning as we staggered into the foyer. “You’re the only one who loves me.”
That was untrue, but he’d clearly reached the sad-drunk stage. So I murmured encouraging noises as I practically herniated myself getting him up the stairs. Down the hall toward Ty’s place, I heard a noise, like the door clicking shut quietly, but I couldn’t investigate until I dealt with Angus. And that might take a while.
Ten minutes later, I got him up the stairs and into the apartment. I convinced him to strip and get in the shower, but I couldn’t stop him from wandering around naked afterward. Max came out of his room, surveyed the situation and then shook his head.
“Nope.” He retreated.
Thankfully, Lauren was home, and she helped me get him dressed and into bed. We flopped him on his stomach and left his trash can beside his bed in case he got sick. By the time Lauren shut Angus’s door, I felt like I had the night before, after listening to Sam scream for almost an hour. The comparison amused me.
“What the hell?” she demanded.
“He split with Josh for keeps.”
“Ohhh. Then it could’ve been worse. Why didn’t you tell me?” Her tone was...something. I didn’t know what. Accusing, maybe, like this was a conspiracy to make her feel left out. “I would’ve come with you.”
After dealing with drunk Angus, taking care of him and keeping him safe, I was tired, cranky, and the implication raised my hackles. “I thought you might be at the library.”
Yeah, that made it pretty clear I knew she was shitting me earlier. I held her eyes for a couple beats until her gaze slid away. For the first time, like, ever, I didn’t want to sleep in the same room with her. We were best friends, and she was lying to me; it hurt her, too, I could tell, but not enough for her to stop. She let me push past and out the door.
I had no idea where I was going until my feet carried me to Ty’s place. It’s too late. He’s probably in bed. So I wheeled without knocking, but his door opened as I moved away.
Tired eyes, running pants, black T-shirt. He opened his arms. I kissed him.
“Rough night?” he asked when we broke apart.
“Yeah. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“You can come in if you need to talk.”
Probably I shouldn’t, but dumping your problems was definitely a friend thing to do, and I could use the opinion of someone who didn’t live with us. So I sat down while he brewed some tea—in an actual kettle, I noticed—and I told him about the drama with Lauren and Angus.
When I ran out of words, he had me snuggled close, a hot mug in my hands. I was so upset I didn’t even notice it happening.
“Okay, Angus, you did fine, he needed to cut loose. Lauren obviously has something going on. Sometimes people just aren’t ready to talk. Whatever it is, it’s making her feel...” He paused, trying to think of the right word. “Lonely. But it’s not your fault. And you can’t help unless she lets you. I get why you’re upset, though. Try not to hold it against her.”
I cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “You’re good at this.”
“I’m out of practice,” he admitted. “It’s been a while since anyone but Sam dumped their problems in my lap and expected me to make sense of them.”
“Sorry to bother you so late.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” At the curious tilt of my head, he added, “Started to worry when you didn’t answer my texts, nothing since I said, Soon. In my head, I went immediately to, I’ll never talk to her again and never find out why.”
Courtesy of Diana.
It was stunning to hear Ty admit to overthinking things, just like I did. “I turned my phone off for class and forgot to turn it back on. I promise, if I ever decide this isn’t working, I won’t vanish, and we’ll talk before it ends. Okay?”
“Thanks,” he said softly.
I wished I could lead him to the bedroom and lose myself in him. Sex would be amazing, the perfect remedy for a shitty day. A wistful thorn pricked my palm, the yearning for more than he could give. When I came in, I was a mess, but now there was only love, welling up with the irresistible force of laughter or tears.
A love I couldn’t acknowledge if I wanted him to stay.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Friday morning, Angus was so hungover he couldn’t move without moaning.
I couldn’t stay home to coddle him, though; maybe Lauren or Max would take over. Before I left, I put water, crackers and ibuprofen on his bedside table. He fumbled through the remedies then pulled the covers over his head.
“You’ll be okay,” I told him.
“Thanks, Nadia.” The words came out muffled.
Exhausted, I ate breakfast, rushed out to class and then drove to C-Cool. Talking and texting, students eddied around me. A few kids were already in Ms. Parker’s room; one of them liked to follow me around, which freaked me out at the beginning of the year. Now I chatted with her while putting away my things. All things considered, the practicum went well. Instead of getting in my mentor’s way, I anticipated her requests a couple of times.
She tapped my shoulder as I was leaving. “I know it’s tough, and you’re having doubts, but the kids respond to you, and the patience you possess naturally, it’s a gift, Nadia. I’ve known people to bail, even at this stage.”
“I appreciate hearing it. I’m hanging in.” It would get better once the schedule change started at Rainbow Academy.
But for now, I had to run. Because I’d chatted with Ms. Parker, there was no convenience-store sandwich, but Louisa was waiting for me at the classroom with a plate she’d saved from lunch. I suspected Mrs. Keller had asked her to mother me, after our talk the other day.
“Careful, if the kids see it, they’ll ask for seconds.”
In five minutes, I scarfed the corn dog, carrots and celery, and the apple slices. It wasn’t enough to fill me up, but I’d be nicer to a class full of four-year-olds if my stomach wasn’t growling the whole time. With thirty seconds to spare, I darted into Mrs. Trent’s room, feeling like I’d won the Boston Marathon.
“You’re all sweaty,” Sam said, running over to hug me.
I patted him on the head. Sometimes it was hard not to show favoritism. “Why did the dinosaur cross the road?”
“To get to the other side?”
“Good guess, but no. Because the chicken hadn’t been invented yet!”
He giggled. “That was stupid.”
“Hey, you’re the one who loves these.” Hopefully, the internet wouldn’t run out of dinosaur material before he grew out of this stage.
I survived Friday and spent the weekend studying, as this was my last chance; next week I’d be taking midterms. Lauren and I didn’t talk much, but Angus was doing better, so Thursday night was worth the drama. Max was around less both Saturday and Sunday. If he was prepping for his exams or working more, I had no idea.
Sunday night, I got a text from Ty.
I’m free the weekend of the 25th. Are you?
That was next weekend. I might be wiped from midterms, work and the practicum, but I had no plans.
What did you have in mind? I sent back.
You. Me. All weekend.
Suddenly I had more energy than I knew what to do with. My hands actually trembled when I asked,
Are you asking me to spend the weekend with you?
At my place, he clarified, like I really thought we were going on vacation together.
Can’t wait.
That was a massive understatement.
During the next week, the promise of the twenty-fifth acted on me like a lure, spurring me on. I didn’t sleep at all Sunday night, and on Monday, I was bleary-eyed but jacked up on energy drinks. I raced through the tests like the information was liquid that might trickle out my ears and onto my desk. My brain actually felt like that might be true.
At work, I was so sluggish, Sam noticed. I was sitting in one of the tiny chairs, watching the kids color, when he turned to me. “You look sad, Nadia.”
“Just tired.”
“You were tired before,” he noted. “Dad is, too. It makes him grumpy.”
Hearing Sam’s impression of Ty put a smile on my face. “Being a grown-up is hard. I’m not very good at it yet, I suspect.”
“Then stop,” he advised.
It was a compelling suggestion, but I didn’t think my parents or my academic adviser would be amused to find me hiding in a ball pit while screaming the Toys R Us theme song. But it seemed like a good idea to warn Mrs. Trent that I might be less than stellar this week.
“Midterms,” she guessed.
“Yeah. So if I seem like I’ve taken up recreational drugs, I promise it’s just exhaustion, so don’t make me pee in a cup.”
“Noted.”
She went easy on me the rest of the day, and on Tuesday morning, she found jobs that required me to sit and watch the kids a lot. Not that I was complaining. I resolved to work extra hard for her once I got over this hurdle. Instead of going to Chuck E. Cheese’s, I took my Tuesday exams and then fell asleep hugging my tablet, trying to cram even more for Wednesday morning. The final was tough enough that it made my practicum feel like a welcome break; at least there was no test.
At work, I responded to Ty’s texts, though they were sporadic and low-key, stuff like, Thinking of you and Is it Friday yet? That night when I got home, Lauren had dinner ready, plus her famous oatmeal cookies. I took the gesture as an apology.
“Are we good?” she asked.
“Yeah. I think this is the longest we’ve ever not been. Is your mom sick?” It was the only thing I could think of.
She shook her head. “No, it’s... I just did a stupid thing, that’s all.”
“What?”
“Max.”
For a minute, I wasn’t sure I heard right. “Huh?”
“I wasn’t in our room that night because I was in Max’s.” But from her expression, that wasn’t good.
“Don’t tell me he’s terrible.”
“No, the sex was fine.”
Suddenly, I thought I understood the problem. “And now you’ve hooked up with someone we live with, and it’s kind of weird.”
“Yep. I can’t look at him now, and he leaves the room pretty much as soon as I walk in. I don’t know what we were thinking.”
Oh, Lauren. He was thinking, finally. This must be killing Max.
On some level, I’d registered that he wasn’t around much anymore, but I had so much stuff going on that I couldn’t keep tabs on all of them. Sometimes I had to get my own house in order before I could do any freelance cleaning, so to speak. Unfortunately, there was no way to clue her in without breaking his confidence.
“What are you going to do?” I decided on a noncommittal response.
“Right now, I’m mostly surprised you’re not making fun of me. Max, of all people.” She shook her head, sighing.
Restraining a wince on his behalf, I answered, “Like I would.”
It was clear she saw the whole thing as good sex, bad idea, which meant she had no inkling how he felt. Punching him in the head might be my next move. Lauren thought she was no more important than anyone else he’d slept with. Good luck changing her mind, I thought.
“Try to act normal. So you’re friends with benefits.” The irony of me saying that didn’t escape me. “It’s not that big a deal, right?”
“I don’t think we’ll be benefiting each other again,” she said.
“Why not?”
“It was...” She paused, as if trying to organize her thoughts. “It happened for the wrong reason, that’s all.”
“Were you drunk?” I tried not to sound judgmental.
“It’s complicated.” Her expression darkened.
Somehow I didn’t think Max had done anything to warrant that look. If I had to guess, I’d say she was thinking of her father. The guy hadn’t called or written since he left ten years ago. It wasn’t an exaggeration to figure she had daddy issues, and there was a reason why she preferred no-strings sex to getting deep. Relationships required trust, and she didn’t have much to spare.
Since she’d opened up, I should do the same, as much as I could. “Speaking of beneficial arrangements, I’m kinda seeing the guy downstairs.”
“Hot Ginger?”
“Stop calling him that. His name is Ty.”
“And you’re dating? How long has this been going on?”
“Let’s say we’re conducting field research to find out if the friends with benefits thing can ever really work out.”
“So you’re fuck buddies.”
“Not yet,” I muttered. “But I have high hopes for this weekend.”
“I’d tell you to be careful, but given my own situation, I feel like that’d just be inviting some pot-kettle commentary.”
“Whatever. Let’s watch TV before I go back to studying. How are midterms going?”
There, now she knows about Ty. He’s not my secret anymore.
She shrugged. “I’m not off to an awesome start this semester, so...about as well as I expected. I hope to do better on finals.”
Angus came home while we were watching a cooking show. He dismissed the contestants with a wave of a hand. “Amateurs. How are my two favorite ladies?”
“Sleepy,” I said. “But determined to reread the last of the material before tomorrow. I’ll catch you guys later.”
Taking my tablet, I got into bed, which probably wasn’t the best move. I read half a chapter before passing out, and when my alarm went off in the morning, I fell out of bed trying to turn it off. If I was rich, I could break clocks on a daily basis, just for the satisfaction of shutting them up permanently. Of course, being independently wealthy would also likely mean I could sleep as long as I wanted.