I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 52

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She got up then and retreated to her own bed. “I don’t have anything to do, except pack, so I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay,” I said. “Do you want a going-away party?”

“Nah. That’s why I waited for your birthday, two birds, one stone.” There was a calm about her that had been missing for months; I’d been too wrapped up in my own shit to notice.

“How are you getting home?”

“Angus bought me a plane ticket. I said I’ll pay him back when I get my last check, but you know how he is. Courtney’s buying my furniture, so I just have my clothes. I was wondering if I could borrow your big suitcase.”

“Help yourself. I won’t need it.” Quietly, I processed the implications of that; Angus knew before I did.

In the abstract, that probably meant I mattered more, or that she didn’t want to ruin my birthday, but I could focus only on the fact that she’d waited until four days before she left. Basically until she had no choice at all. There was an invisible lump in my chest as I got in the shower. Since it was the weekend, I didn’t have to work, but I couldn’t be at home.

Normally, at a time like this, I’d text Ty or call him, so I could hear his voice when he said my name, and that gorgeous, syrupy warmth would spill through me, smoothing over the bad patches. That wasn’t an option anymore. So I dried my hair and dressed, like I had somewhere to be. Lauren was asleep or pretending. I didn’t feel like talking to Angus, either, so I got my keys and went downstairs.

Of course, since this was the worst I’d looked since the breakup that wasn’t really one at all, technically, I met Sam and Ty going out at the same time. They were dressed for the weather, Sam’s eyes bright above his scarf. Ty was back to looking pale and miserable, pretty much exactly how I felt. For Sam’s sake, I mumbled a greeting and rushed past to my car, pretending I was in a hurry, except there was nowhere in the world for me. Ty lifted a hand and then dropped it, probably knowing there was nothing he could say.

Yes, there’s something wrong. No, it’s none of your business. You want it that way.

The sidewalk was slick with icy patches, graying snow melting atop dead grass. I fumbled my keys then dropped them. With a sigh, I knelt and scrabbled for them in the cold, starting when someone touched my shoulder. Not Ty. It would never be Ty. Pain flowered fresh and sharp, exploding in my chest like a scream.

Max stood behind me, one hand in his pocket, and I could see his fingers clenching into a fist and then relaxing, a helpless, pained gesture that told me everything. “Angus told me about Lauren.”

I nodded as he pulled me up.

“Come on, Conrad. Let’s get some breakfast.”

Though I’d rarely been on the back of his bike, I followed him over and put on the helmet. Sam was waving at me from the backseat of Ty’s Focus, and I raised my hand, showing him everything was fine. You’re a good kid. Max swung on and glanced at me expectantly. With a spurt of defiance, I swung onto the back and wrapped my arms around his waist. I wasn’t trying to make Ty jealous because it wasn’t like that with Max and me, and it never would be.

Max zoomed out of the parking lot, leaving the complex behind. Breakfast didn’t sound very good at the moment, and as if he sensed how I felt, he headed for the highway. It was incredibly cold, but the rushing wind drove out the pain, leaving only numbness, and it was a welcome relief. For an hour, there was only Max’s back and the hiss of the road, roar of the tires and rumble of the engine.

By the time he stopped, my fingers were locked into icicles at his waist. Gently he pried me loose, and we stumbled into a truck stop. We had to be close to Ann Arbor, though I’d lost track of the direction. Shivering, I slid into a booth across from him and he ordered us both coffee to start. I studied the menu, knowing I had to eat, not wanting to. But I wouldn’t be a damsel who pined, so I got waffles.

“I never understood the bike until now.”

“It’s freedom,” he said simply. “I’ve had it since I was fifteen, and whenever shit got unbearable at home, I’d take off.”

Cupping my hands around my mug, I observed, “Running doesn’t solve anything.”

“No, but it leaves you in a better place to deal when you get back. And sometimes whatever was bothering you isn’t there anymore.”

“So you’ll be riding around until Lauren leaves?”

He gave a wry half smile. “Maybe. I think maybe she was right, though, about me not knowing her. I had no idea she was so unhappy here.”

“She’s not easy,” I said. “We’ve been friends for a long time, and I don’t know her like she does me. I feel bad saying that. And I’ll miss her. I’ll miss her sense of humor. I’ll miss her big brain and her loyalty. I’ll miss knowing she’s around if I need to talk.”

“You can talk to me,” Max said.

“I’m not sure that’ll work. Sometimes if I’m freaking out about something, I climb in her bed and poke her awake. She always talks me down, even at four in the morning.”

His look was surprisingly somber. “If you get in my bed, Conrad, I promise I won’t take it the wrong way.”

Somehow I managed a shaky smile. “The way this semester is going, I might do that.”

“There’s no shame in leaning. Seems to me, we’ve been taking turns.”

“Okay,” I said. Our breakfast came, and to my surprise, the perpetual knot in my stomach unraveled enough for me to eat. “How do you feel about Courtney moving in?”

“I’m fine with it. She’s in a shitty situation, and I’m glad we can help her out.”

I agreed. See, there’s the bright side. Lauren leaving means we can save Courtney from her crazy roommate. At this stage, I couldn’t come up with a silver lining to losing Sam and Ty, but maybe one day. Hope was a tiny bubble, light as air and rising in my chest.

“Top you two off?” the waitress asked.

At Max’s nod, she refilled our cups and I lifted mine. He clinked his against it. “To Lauren,” he toasted with a bittersweet smile.

“And to survival,” I said, because giving up was never, ever a choice I could make.

Courtney moved in the following weekend.

Though we’d gone to a bunch of the same parties over the years, she was more Max’s friend than mine, and it was bizarre to have her carrying boxes into our room, putting stuff away where Lauren’s clothes used to be. What I knew about her boiled down to this: her last name was Kaufman, she was Jewish, she was studying business, and she hated her current roommate in the dorms—from what I’d heard, with good reason. She was a short brunette, just over five feet, with strong features and a flair for the dramatic. Oh, and she also liked to mess with high people and make out with Max.

It’s only until the lease runs out in August. I could put up with anything for six months.

To be sociable, I said, “Do you need help unpacking?”

“No, thanks. I’m a little OCD about organization.” Her gaze swept my jumbled bookshelves. “Will it bother you if I alphabetize?”

“No, I guess not.” I pulled books down at random and put them back exactly the same way. But if she had to impose order, it wouldn’t ruin my day.

Lucky for her, I wasn’t a slob. I kept my dirty clothes in the hamper and I washed them on a regular basis; my half of the closet was decent.

With a faint sigh, I left her to settle in and joined the guys in the living room. “This feels so weird.”

Angus nodded. “I cried at the airport, after dropping Lauren off.”

“Just give her a chance,” Max said, surprising me.

An hour later, Courtney joined us. She was quiet when Lauren would’ve been cracking jokes and throwing popcorn at the TV, but I got the impression she was sussing us out, trying to figure out where she fit in the apartment hierarchy. Not that we had one.

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