“Don’t worry, you can always punch Paul,” Abby chimes.
I feel relieved for the impending breakup to finally be done and over with. However, I have no desire to discuss the details until I can think up a vague enough explanation so I’m not lying but craftily omitting large portions of the evening. Not to mention I really don’t want to discuss this in front of Max, who I can still feel staring at me, willing me to look at him.
It’s taking a ridiculous amount of energy for me not to. I want to bathe in his attention, but something feels wrong about grinning at someone an hour after breaking up with another guy, even if it is Max.
“What did you guys do today?” I ask, looking to Abby as I take a seat between her and Landon. They’ve been intentionally avoiding each other since their impromptu make out session at Dante’s.
“Are you okay?” Kendall asks, reaching her hand across the table and wrapping it around mine. I look down at our joined hands. Kendall’s always been envious of my olive-toned skin, but I’ve always loved the alabaster with soft pink undertones that she and my sisters all have. I look up to see her light blue eyes staring at me with concern.
I take a long drink and squeeze her hand. “I’m great,” I say with a smile and I am. My break up was just a bit more exciting than I had intended, and I’m sure the stress of it shows on my face. I take another drink and push the thoughts further from my mind.
“The offer still stands. I’d be more than happy to throw a few punches,” Kyle says, standing behind me as he finishes a slice of pizza.
Kendall knows me too well to know if things had gone fine I would give her a brief summarization and wouldn’t be drinking. Surprisingly though, she doesn’t push it. She doesn’t have to.
Kyle grips my arm, roughly pulling it back and twisting it in an awkward Cirque Du Soleil move. “What the hell?” he yells. His hand grips my arm and I know I must already be sporting a bruise from where Eric had grabbed me. “Has he hit you before?” he demands, his green eyes bright with fury as I face him.
“What?” Kendall jumps up as the others slide their chairs back to get a look.
“It’s nothing.” I work to pull my arm back and try to conjure up a smile that will set Kyle at ease. Instead, he glowers at me with an intensity that I’ve only seen a few times in all the years I’ve known him.
“Ace,” Kyle repeats, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, “has he hurt you before?”
“No.” I can feel the others’ attention on me and can already picture their pity and anger.
Kyle’s eyes slowly open and find mine. I don’t avoid it. I know he won’t believe me unless I meet his challenge. His eyes quickly dance between mine, beseeching the truth. “No,” I repeat a little louder, shaking my head.
“Ace, seriously.” He persists.
“Seriously, Kyle, nothing has ever happened,” I insist, raising my eyebrows as I stare back into his eyes to emphasize I’m telling him the truth.
He still doesn’t look convinced. Kyle knows better than most about how to hide abuse, and I know this is hitting home with him since his dad had been a perpetual drunk that spent half of his time drinking and the other half abusing Kyle, both mentally and physically.
I shake my head in defeat. “I was stupid. I planned to meet him at a restaurant to break up because I didn’t know how things would go, and when I got there he drove us to a different restaurant because he’d made plans with these horrible social climbing jerks that all drank way too much and were being obnoxious and rude. So I left. I figured that even though I think breakups should be face to face, I’d give in this time and do it the middle school way and call him.
“But when I left he followed me, and I ended it a bit more publicly than I would’ve liked.”
“That doesn’t explain the bruise,” Kyle says, shaking his head and discounting pretty much everything I just told him.
“He was being an ass and I was done, with all of it. I didn’t want to argue with him so when he started following me, I walked away. He told me I was being dramatic, so I acted a little dramatic and threw his keys in the dumpster and walked away. He was pissed, and rightfully so. I really shouldn’t have—”
“You’re making excuses for him?” Kyle cries. “Unfuckingbelievable!”
“He didn’t hit me Kyle. He was trying to make me listen and I didn’t want to. I know I’ve needed to break up with him since …” I lift a hand and trail it backwards, shaking my head. They all know I’ve needed to do it for some time. “He was pissed off and he grabbed my arm. I didn’t stick around. I hailed a cab and came home. I didn’t even stop to get my car.”
I keep my eyes focused on Kyle as he intently stares at me. “Honestly, Kyle, he’s never hit me. I would have …” My words drift off as he nods and releases a deep sigh, working to calm himself down.
“If he comes over here again—”
“I’m breaking his fucking jaw,” Max interrupts.
My eyes turn to him as I hear the anger drip from his voice and see his right hand balled into a fist so tight his knuckles are white and pronounced against the stretch of his skin.
“And you won’t interfere,” Kyle instructs, looking at me with the same intensity.
I hesitate for a moment, trying to process this. I am in no way going to allow Max to hit Eric. After watching him at Dante’s, I’m still a little freaked out about what he’s capable of. However, knowing Eric and his pride, I doubt I’ll ever see him again. “Deal, as long as this stays here. At the kitchen table.”
Now it’s Kyle who hesitates. He looks at me for a long moment and I sense his unease as his gaze drifts over to Max and then to Kendall whose eyes are narrowed on me in thought.
“Deal,” she agrees. Kyle looks agitated with Kendall’s response but doesn’t argue as he turns his attention to the ceiling.
“What are you doing here anyways?” I ask him, feeling slightly relieved and anxious to turn the conversation.
“Mindi forgot her book thing last Sunday. I was supposed to get it yesterday but I forgot. I’m not making that mistake again.” His eyes grow with feigned fear.
I smile, happy to hear him crack a joke. “I think I saw it in the den. I’ll go grab it.”
As I return, e-reader in hand, I can tell they’re discussing me when I hear the swarm of hushed tones. I clear my throat and look to Kendall expectantly.
“We’re still at the kitchen table,” Kyle retorts, his tone set back to serious again.
“It’s not a big deal.” I pass him the e-reader.
“I told them you’d be pissed if they went looking for him,” Kendall says, tipping me off.
My eyes snap to Max and then to Kyle, both diligently working to avoid eye contact with me. “I’d be more than pissed! You guys aren’t going anywhere. This isn’t Braveheart. I don’t need anyone defending my honor.”
“Told you,” Kendall adds.
“Ace—” Max’s eyes look distant and tortured.
“Max, please. It’s over. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”
“He doesn’t deserve that!” His voice comes out strained, like he’s working to not yell the words at me. His fist slams against the table, expressing the anger he’s trying to disguise in his voice, making the salt and pepper shakers clink from the vibration it elicits.
He hastily pushes his chair back and strides out the front door at what seems like the speed of Superman.
“Shit,” Jameson mutters, pushing his chair back to follow. I don’t wait before I chase after him as well.
“Max!” I plead, sprinting the last few steps to catch up to him as he approaches his Jeep. I make one final dash to push in front of him and press my back against the driver’s side door.
“Max, stop.” I place a hand on his chest and can practically hear the deliberation occurring in his mind as he decides whether to ignore me or not. “Please,” I say softly, searching his eyes for some sort of resolve or understanding.