I don’t wait for Rene to answer. I go quickly to my room and close the door behind me. I sink down on the ground beside my carry tote and shove my folders into it. I should probably study a few hours since I have an exam tomorrow, but I’m not in the mood to study Baroque Music History. Everything is running loose and frantic inside me again.
I turn to look at the clock. It’s only 9 p.m. I’m not tired, but I don’t really want to sit in the living room listening to Rene in the kitchen effortlessly crank out paper after paper.
As I grab my pajamas, my eyes fix on Alan’s t-shirt neatly folded in the drawer. Damn, why do I keep it? I should throw it away. I slam the drawer shut, change my clothes and then climb into the bed.
I reach onto the nightstand for the TV controller and click on the set. I start flipping through channels, purposely avoiding the music stations. I need a movie. I need something funny. I need to laugh. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Music blasts from the speakers and I realize I’ve gone too far clicking channels. I’ve reached the music programs. I almost switch off the TV, when suddenly it’s Neil’s face staring out at me from the screen.
I lean forward in bed, focusing on the TV, and I feel a pleasant kind of smile surface on my face. Jeez, Neil looks beautiful on camera. I rapidly try to pick out details of where he is since the darn station doesn’t have a tickertape running on the bottom during this around-the-world-in-a-minute segment. A festival of some sort.
My smile deepens as Neil’s gentle and shy green eyes fill with humor. Totally sweet. Totally humble. Totally Neil, even being interviewed by music TV. Once he is gone from the screen, I flip off the set and lie back against my pillow.
I guess things have started to go really well for Neil if he’s getting this kind of exposure on the music news programs. I’m happy for him, and a little disappointed in myself that I haven’t been keeping better tabs on what’s been going on in Neil’s life.
We were good together, really good. Close to being everything I wanted. Just not quite all I needed us to be. I don’t know why or what was missing. Just something was, and I could feel it. It was almost perfect, and yet somehow, just not enough.
I roll onto my side, staring at what used to be Neil’s pillow beside me. So much has changed and it’s only been three months. Jack is off touring again with his band for the first time since the 80s, and the entire world has fallen back in love with my 60s iconic, legendary father. Rene has been accepted into UCLA medical school. Neil Stanton has a song on the Billboard Charts, and he gets interviewed on music TV. Alan is finally divorced from Nia, and fucking his way around the world. And me? Nope, don’t think of that. Not tonight. Leave the lockboxes closed tonight.
Fighting back the tears, I pick up Neil’s picture from my bedside table, hold it above my face and just stare at him. I like the way his eyes look at me, the way they make me feel, even from a picture.
I still think of Neil every day. I do miss him, and he is my best friend. Crap, I share with him things I would never dare share with Rene. There are times I think I am still in love with him, a smidge, maybe even more than that.
I know he’s still in love with me. He hasn’t said it, but I know it. I can tell by how he speaks to me. I wonder what it will be like to see him again. We haven’t been together for four months. I wonder if it will feel good to be with Neil or just grossly uncomfortable for us both in that we used to be together but now we’re not kind of way. Neither of us knowing how to act around each other, or what to say or do. God, that would be awful. I hope it’s not like that.
Maybe I should have stayed with Neil, even though we were only close, almost perfect, but not enough. It would have been better than where I am today; alone, frightened, and brokenhearted.
I set Neil’s picture back on the nightstand and switch off the light. I curl into a tight ball, hugging his pillow. I loved Neil less than I love Alan and tonight I wish to God I had loved Neil more. Loving Neil less is what’s gotten me into this, my latest nightmare. If I had loved Neil more than Alan, I would still be with him, and be the Chrissie I am when I’m with Neil.
A better girl than I am today. A girl I sort of started to like. Not the girl lying here alone and afraid, or the girl I will be tomorrow. The girl I always seem to become with Alan. My worst me.
CHAPTER TWO
A soft rap on the front door brings me awake and I open my eyes. I slowly sit up on the couch, pausing a moment to take a deep breath, and then rise to my feet praying that the change of position doesn’t make me start throwing up again.
Damn, why does every little movement of my body make me vomit today?
Feeling that nagging warning in my stomach, I swallow hard and fumble to unlatch the door. I open it and somehow manage a smile. “Hey Mr. Next-Big-Thing, welcome back to Berkeley.”
Neil’s warm green eyes claim me like a gentle hold and he laughs, shaking his head at me. “Next big thing, huh?”
I stare up at him, wondering if he’ll kiss me, and I can feel that my eyes are sparkly in that way they get when I’m really happy. Neil gazes down at me, neither of us move, and belatedly I note that it was my turn to talk and I didn’t.
I flush and say quickly, “Yep, you are Mr. Next-Big-Thing. I saw you on TV a few days ago, and that’s what the interviewer said before they cut away, that the buzz is you’re definitely going to be the next big thing.”
Neil gives me a pained, sweetly exasperated look. “That’s Ernie Levine’s publicity machine. You know how managers are. It’s just bullshit, Chrissie. I’m more like Mr. broke, tired, glad to be off the road, and really glad to see you kind of a thing.”
I laugh. “I’m glad to see you, too.”
Neil relaxes casually against the doorframe, his green eyes twinkling in an oh-so-Neil impish way. He touches my cheek and says, “That’s probably because Rene is giving you shit about when my stuff will be out of here.”
“She is not. She’s going to be thrilled when she gets back from class and finds you here.” I tilt my head toward the living room. “Come on in.”
Neil ambles into the living room as I close the door and re-attach the chain. He stares at the disorderly room, and his laughter comes loudly this time as his chestnut waves dance on his shoulders when he shakes his head.
He turns to smile at me. “Rene is going to be thrilled? Is that why there are boxes stacked floor to ceiling against the wall?”
I scrunch up my nose, making a face at him. “Those aren’t for you. We move out next month. You know Rene and her lists and her hyper-organized tendencies. She made us start packing a week ago.”
“Yep, that definitely sounds like Rene.”
Neil sinks down on the couch and I settle close beside him, legs bent beneath me, my bottom resting on my heels.
“So how long are you staying in Berkeley?” I ask.
“Don’t worry. I’m leaving in the morning,” Neil teases.
He says that in the familiar tone we banter with, but for some reason it makes cold needlelike pricks run the surface of my flesh. “You can stay as long as you want.”
Neil’s expression changes and the smile leaves his face. He gives me a sharp once-over and frowns. “Are you OK, Chrissie?”
I nod. “I’m great.”
“Well, you don’t sound great.” His frown lowers and it looks like he’s seeing me more thoroughly and not liking what he sees. Inwardly, I cringe, and then he says, “And you don’t exactly look great either. In fact, you look really not good, Chrissie.”
I flush and give him a pointed stare as I anxiously straighten my frumpy, oversized Cal sweats. “Thanks a lot. I’ve been throwing up all day. I think I ate something bad last night.”
He crinkles his nose. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that, right? Not one of my swifter comments.”