Completely unsure what to say to him, I just stared at him in disbelief, my heart beating so fast I felt short of breath. I didn’t even know this side of him, and it was a little scary. “No one is saying there’s anything wrong with you.”
“My mother did. She always did. And I know there is. But I can control it. But not when I see the girl I love unconscious on the fucking floor!” He made a sound of pure frustration and kicked the side of the table he’d turned.
I was too tired to do this. I smelled like stale vomit and hospital antiseptic, and my hand still shook when I held it out. I didn’t want to do this. “Maybe we’re not good for each other,” I murmured, weary. “You said that when we started dating, and maybe you were right.”
Because all I was hearing was that I reminded him too much of his mother and that he couldn’t deal with that. Well, I couldn’t deal with being put in the same category as her. It felt like in that case, love was altogether too close to hate.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, looking wounded.
“It means I want you to drive me home, to my parents’ house. I’m going to tell them I have the flu and I’m going to stay there for a few days. You can drive my car back here. I’ll get a ride when I’m ready to come back.”
“You’re leaving me?” he asked, sounding bewildered.
“You just got done telling me I stress you out, so this will be a good break for both of us.” There was a lump in my throat, and I didn’t think it was really going to be any sort of good for me, but I couldn’t stay there. Not with Kylie exiled to Tyler and Riley’s and Phoenix looking at me like I disgusted him.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Ignoring him, I stood up, shooing away his arm when he tried to help me. It was about an hour too damn late to be suddenly considerate. I was pissed and hurt and I wanted to be alone. Honest to God, truly alone.
Maybe I could finish what I had started this summer, figuring out who I was, in a safe place.
Without a word, I went into my room and started packing a bag, my head still spinning, but adrenaline pushing me through. I stepped into giant pajama pants and pulled on a tank top.
He stood in the doorway. “Robin. Baby. Are you breaking up with me?”
“No.” Exasperated and light-headed, I sat down on my bed. “Unless you want me too.” So passive-aggressive, but I needed a freakin’ bone here. I was tired of being the bad person. Worn down from the guilt. I needed him to say he loved me no matter what.
“Of course not. Unless you want me to.”
This was stupid. “Just get my keys. They’re in my purse. And seriously, Phoenix, do not tell my parents what happened. It will scare them.”
He snorted.
“What?” Enough with the attitude.
“Nothing.” He put his hands out, which further irritated me. “It’s just that you don’t seem particularly worried about the fact that you scared the shit out of me.”
“This isn’t about you!” I screamed. “This is about me! Me! About my feelings! For once, just once, it’s fucking about me!”
I’m not even sure where that came from. But it just felt like the scream I’d been holding in all summer came roaring out.
And it kind of felt good to get it out, to hear my voice, strong and loud again.
Phoenix just reached out and yanked my bag out of my hand to carry for me, and turned and stalked off.
“Thanks,” I said, and yes, that was sarcasm.
Chapter Seventeen
Phoenix
It took everything I had not to just deposit Robin in her car and go running down the street in a hard sprint to expel all the anger and frustration from my body. Did she have any clue how close to dying she had come? I had expected tears, apologies, sad Robin, but aside from looking like she needed a nap, she didn’t look upset. In fact, she acted like she had done nothing different the night before than any other night.
Well, maybe it was easy for her to pretend like it hadn’t happened since she didn’t even remember it, but for me? Not so fucking easy.
And she had screamed at me. And said fuck, which she almost never said.
Leaning against the window, she had her eyes closed, which was basically a “don’t talk to me,” which didn’t help me from being pissed off.
Because getting pissed was what I did when I was scared and damn it, she had terrified me. I had thought she was dead for a second there. And then just when I was starting to catch my breath, she turned her back on me and acted like she wanted to break up with me.
So yeah, I was in a bad place, and when I’m in a bad place, I lash out.
Jesus. Just like my mother.
That was not a good thought to be having.
But how could Robin be mad at me? How the fuck would she feel if she’d had to watch EMTs rushing her to the hospital? Watch the doctor examine her while she mumbled weird shit incoherently . . . It had been awful, and I couldn’t help it if I wasn’t able to just be like all casual over her almost drinking herself to death.
“Where are we going?” I asked her. “What is your parents’ address?”
“Take 75 north to 275 west,” she said, voice tired. “Mt. Healthy exit.”
“Okay. Do you want anything?” I asked as I started driving. “We can stop at the store.”
“No.”
Silence.
“I want a coffee so I’m going through the drive-thru.”
Silence.
That was worse than her shrieking at me. “Baby, talk to me.”
“I’m tired,” was all she said.
“I know.” I felt like a dick for yelling at her earlier, for not leaving it alone until she at least had some time to recover. But hell, was I really the best person to take care of her for the next day or two? What did I know about being nurturing or whatever? Nothing. Maybe her being with her mom was the best thing for her right now, and when she was feeling better, we could talk. We could work all this out and be back to where we should be.
I couldn’t imagine going through this again, but I also couldn’t imagine not being with Robin. Both hurt. It all just hurt so much that there was a tight knot in my gut and a pain in my chest and I wanted to punch a wall until those loosened up and I was breathless and my fists were bloody. Until the pain was concentrated in sore muscles, burning lungs, and bleeding, broken skin. Not in my heart.
“Do you want me to pack up some clothes for you later and bring them out to you?”
“No, it’s fine.”
Her voice was calm, passive.
It made me crazy. Desperate. I wanted to get some kind of reaction from her. I wanted to both take care of her and shake her.
Twenty minutes of silence stretched out as I drove and she pretended to sleep. I knew she wasn’t actually dozing because her foot went up and down in a rhythm that she never seemed to notice but generally made me want to put my hand on her knee to stop it. It was like an agitated bounce that made me tense, because it meant she was tense.
By the time we got off the exit and she gave me terse directions to her parents’ house, a seventies split-level with overgrown bushes, I was on the verge of explosion.
Unfortunately, right then the garage door went up and I saw movement. Her parents and a tiny woman I took to be her grandmother came out onto the driveway, looking surprised. Robin opened her door and got out, so I did the same.
“Robin, are you okay?” her mother asked, barely even glancing at me.
“I have the flu,” she said, and the lie didn’t sound convincing to my ears, but her mother seemed to buy it. “I was sick all night and I just wanted to come home.” She burst into tears. “I don’t feel good.”