I smile and turn to Jameson. “She may be a spitfire and a pain in the ass at times, but she’s worth it.” I give him my best reassuring smile as I gently squeeze his forearm in an attempt to convey my honesty, then glance over to Max and see he’s looking at me like I’m some complicated math equation to solve. Apparently I seem to confound him as much as he does me. I force myself to give him a small smile before walking back toward the house and catch the faint scent of Max that makes my body feel all too aware and slightly buzzed.
“I love your pants, Ace. They make your ass look amazing!” Jess calls.
“Stop, you’re making me blush.” I shoot her a wink before turning into the house.
Kendall’s moved on from dancing and is now playing beer pong with her friend, Chelsea, against two boys that I don’t recognize. Her glassy eyes and vulgar language confirm she’s had way too much to drink.
I tease and flirt with the boys and eventually convince them to quit the game early. Thankfully Kendall doesn’t object when I lead her to the door. Instead, she links her arm with mine and leans into me.
“He didn’t fight for me, Ace.” Kendall pouts as we step into the warm evening air that feels cool against my skin after being in the sardine-packed house.
“I think he was a little caught off guard.” I take the half-filled plastic cup she still holds loosely in her hand and set it on the edge of a large planter box that’s already adorned with several other half-full cups.
“He doesn’t like me.” She whines. Kendall doesn’t take rejection or even the idea of rejection well. Drunk Kendall takes it even worse.
“He likes you. You’re just turning him in circles. I don’t think he knows which way is up right now.” I don’t know why I’m even wasting my breath arguing with her. I know she won’t remember any of this by tomorrow and we’ll be having this same conversation, but hopefully this will pacify her and she won’t be a cranky, crying mess for the trip home.
“You really think he likes me?” Her voice lilts with hope.
“I do,” I say confidently, neglecting to mention that I’d spoken to him and confirmed the fact.
As we head down the driveway, Kendall clings to my side for support and veers us both to the right as she clumsily staggers forward.
“I also think these shoes are really difficult to walk in with you when you’re drunk.” Kendall giggles, tightening her grasp on my waist.
“Those are great shoes,” she says with a sigh, leaning her head on mine and supporting more of her weight on me that has us turning further. “I love you too, Ace.”
“I love you too.” I grunt as I maneuver her back to the left, narrowly avoiding her trampling into the flower beds lining both sides of the driveway.
“I’m glad you’re breaking up with Eric. He doesn’t deserve you.”
To avoid responding, I tell her to be careful as we reach the edge of the driveway where some loose gravel slides under our feet.
The familiar scent of slightly burnt toast cooked the way my dad prefers it greets me, along with his smile, as I enter the kitchen the next morning. I kiss his cheek before taking a seat beside him, and he slides me the cup of coffee waiting for me.
“Did you have fun last night?”
I wrap my hands around the warm mug bringing it to my mouth, desperate for the caffeine. I’m tired enough both mentally and physically that I can’t seem to muster an adequate response, so I nod and give a shrug to convey my indifference. Normally I’d still be sleeping after staying up so late, but Kendall had fallen asleep in my bed last night and woke me up talking in her sleep. I tried to go back to sleep, but Max’s accusation ran through my mind like a pinball, causing my brain to go into overdrive trying to process thoughts and fears.
We sit in silence for a moment, my mind still at half speed as I practically gulp my coffee.
“I heard Sharon say Max went to the party you guys were at last night. It’s nice you guys are finally spending some time together after all these years.” I avoid looking at him as I place my empty mug in the sink, hoping he’ll change the subject as I focus entirely too hard on tying my shoes. “He’s a nice looking guy—”
“Have a good day, Dad. Love you.” I stand up, pressing another kiss on his cheek before making my way out the front door, not caring that I’m being rude. The last thing I want to do is discuss Max’s attractiveness, especially with my dad.
I stretch my legs and arms and sigh realizing that in my haste to get my things out as quietly as possible so I didn’t wake Kendall, I left my iPod. I don’t have Zeus as a distraction this morning either. He was passed out along the foot of my parents’ bed with my mom, and I felt too guilty to disturb either of them.
Finishing stretching, I set off through the neighborhood in the direction of the track, quickly finding my stride. Once I do, the only sound that fills my head is the soft thump, thump, thump of my feet, soothing my mind and body as I get lost in my trance.
It lasts for about fifteen minutes, until my phone starts chirping, indicating several messages. Believing it’s too early to not be something important, I pause and pull my phone out of the hideous waist clip my dad insists I wear while I run and glance at the screen to see four text messages from my sister Jenny.
Jenny: Sorry, I know it’s early, but I was omw out this morning & saw Eric
Jenny: W/ a girl …
Jenny: A girl that wasn’t u.
Jenny: They weren’t doing NEthing, but it seemed really strange. Sorry, Ace :( Call me. I love u 2.
I release a deep sigh of annoyance. I need to get this over with and call things off, especially if he’s seeing other people behind my back.
In an attempt to clear my mind, I continue on my course and seek the peacefulness that usually consumes me when I run. It seems completely elusive as my thoughts dance from one point of stress to the next, causing my muscles to tighten and me to break stride. I attempt counting my steps to focus. When that doesn’t work I begin counting my breaths and reach the same failed outcome. I dig deeper, pushing myself. I want to feel my lungs burn, feel the pulsing of my heart and fluidity of my muscles that confirm I have control. That if I exert enough energy, I’ll feel the same expected outcome. I feel nearly desperate for the assurance.
The reality that I’m not upset about ending things with Eric but upset about the way Max views me is the reason I lack that release.
I spend the next two weeks of summer in a daze of bliss, doing little to nothing, and I’ll admit I don’t feel guilty. After my last semester I’m fully embracing hanging out with friends that I’ve wanted to see and spending time swimming in the pool and at home with my family.
“Honey, I need to go. I was supposed to be at Mary’s nearly an hour ago but I promised Sharon I’d bring this back to her because she’s heading out of town and needs it.” I glance at my mom from the corner of my eye as she flutters into the kitchen, working to clasp an earring, before returning my attention back to my book. It’s a rare rainy day. Being more inland, we hardly get full days of rain, especially in the summer, and it elicits a sense of languor over me.
“Can you please bring it to Sharon’s, along with a pie from the fridge?”
“We have pie?”
She smiles and shakes her head as I turn to give her my full attention.
“Two of them. Lisa, that woman that works with your father, dropped them off. This casserole dish and the pie. Please,” she says, gently running her fingers along a large white dish sitting on the counter.