"If it weren't for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it."
—Nicole Krause, The History of Love
***
The cafeteria seem to dim down as Megan and I enter. We grab trays and wait in line. After that, Spencer calls out for us and we make our way to the table.
"Where's that pretty boy of yours?" Spencer asks just as I slide in my seat. I sigh. Megan answers for me, "He took his pretty face and bipolar behaviour outside of class."
"No!" Spencer gasps. I roll my eyes. "He just got pissed that the publishing house that offered me an internship is a two hours drive." I shrug.
"Wait," Spencer cuts me off. "You got an internship? Where?"
"Ernest and Ernie." I scoop mashed potatoes in my mouth.
"Get out!" Megan startles me causing me to go into a chocking mood. She slightly rubs my back as I cough. I clear my throat, "I know, I'm so excited," I tell her and she squeal. "Well, was anyway. Pretty boy has to ruin it," I sigh. "Anyways, enough talking about that."
"Agreed." Spencer says. "Let's talk about graduation instead."
"What about it?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Im thinking of going naked under the robe."
I chuckle. "If it's windy, you're screwed."
He smirks. "Nah. It's quite the view."
"Ew, stop." Megan interrupts. "First of all, at least wear boxers and spare us the view." She turns to me, "and second of all, stop pouting and go draw his lines. He can't keep bumming you over and driving you mad."
"He's smoking," I instantly say. She arches an eyebrow, "When did he do that?"
"About a week ago," Spencer sips on his cola. My eyebrows strike up, "how do you know that?"
He clears his throat, "Well..." His voice comes out as a squeal. I sigh and cut him off. "Just forget it."
"Jeremy six o'clock," Spencer says. I jerk my head in his direction while Megan ducks. My eyes scan from his denim up to his polo shirt and to the bloodshot blue eyes. I gulp down. His eyes stay locked in mine until he breaks them to watch Megan. She looks away instantly as her leg starts to shake abruptly. When he's out of the view, I turn to her.
"Meg?" I call for her but her hair is curtaining her face. I place my hand on her leg, stopping the shaking. "Are you okay?" I ask. When she turns, my heart melts for her. She's crying.
I take a strand of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. "I'm sorry," I whisper. She sniffs. "I guess you can never get over someone you love," she weakly smiles.
"Amen to that girl," Spencer engages into the conversation. I sigh, unsure of what to say. "Look at me!" I shake my head, "sitting with two heart broken people." They both slightly laugh, easing up the mood.
"You know what? We'll skip our next class, head to Connor's, buy some ice cream and watch the notebook." They both say nothing, and just stare back at me. I smirk. "Or we could go to a liquor store, buy some wine, while I cook some good authentic stake."
Spencer gets off his chair, causing a streaking voice. "Plan B it is."
"Yeh, the cafeteria's food is pretty shitty both ways," Megan says. We grab our books and head out. The instant warm air strikes me causing my shirt to damp.
"Megan?" I jerk my head to find Jeremy standing, less than a feet away. My eyes pace between Jeremy and Megan who are just standing there, taking each other in. My heart calls out for Megan because I know how aching it is to stand there, helpless.
"How are you?" He asks her, stepping closer. She takes a step backward, and Spencer takes a step forward, stopping Jeremy in his tracks. She hides behind me and I wrap my hand around her, keeping her safe.
"I'm not the enemy," he pleads. She looks away. There's a constant pull in my heart telling me to forgive Jeremy, because he's looking at her the same way Adam does at me. But the voice in my head is stopping me. He is an enemy.
"She doesn't want you, Jeremy. Leave her alone." I threaten.
"She wants me as bad as I want her," he says. Spencer interjects, "that's not true."
"Oh yeh?" He challenges. "Than why is she crying?"
"Because she's scared from you." I tell him as she squeezes my hand and pulls her head away from him. He rubs his chin and I can see the frustration swarming in his eyes. "Meg, please stop crying." He says which only causes her to cry even harder. "I'll go. Fine."
He waits for a few seconds for her to stop him from leaving, but she refuses to look him in the eye. He sighs and walks away with frustration. Spencer instantly looks at me, unsure what to say.
"We'll make that two bottles of wine."
****
I check my phone for the third time, but there's nothing. Pure nothing. I put it aside and continue doing the dishes. We went to Spencer's place because I didn't want Adam coming to his own apartment to find people when he's in a bad mood. But who was I kidding? He isn't even coming.
"Hey," Spencer spooks me as he enters the kitchen, with more dishes in hand. "Why are guys jerks in a minute and heaven in another?"
I seem to catch him off guard with my questions as he shrugs. "He's just jealous, Lis. He's overreacting for sure but I guess it's all because of what's been happening recently. I don't know what I would've done if my sister turned on me."
"Yeh," I sigh. "How's your job going?" I change the subject.
"Shit," he rubs his chin. "I want to quit but I can't. Not until I get a decent career in being an artist."
"I need to find another job. The owner didn't even show mercy. He kicked me out without hesitation." I was humiliated. My mother offered to work instead, and help me with my bills. I agreed but only because I will find another job, and pay her back. "Do you think your Uncle could take me in as a bartender?" I ask Spencer.
He chuckles. "Sorry to break it to you, biscuit. But I don't think Mr. Reindl would be pleased with me if I let his girlfriend bar tend drunk, sexually confused, and harassing men." He makes a point.
"Well Mr. Reindl isn't here to give a damn." I almost break the plate in my hand but I place it aside, jaw tensed. "Stop, Lesley. I'm serious." I nod. "Did Riley get in touch with you after that text?" He shakes his head no and I offer a weak smile.
"I got to go. Shift starts in half an hour." He plants a kiss on my cheek. "Don't forget to lock up before leaving." I smile, "of course. Good luck," I tell him and he winks. I watch as he leaves and then continue the dishes. Megan already left a while ago. Her foster mom ordered her to come home. I make sure that I locked up everything and descend down the stairs to my car. I'm not ready to go home and not find Adam there. Or worse, to find him there. Instead, I make a detour to my mother's place.
Fifteen minutes later, I turn the knob and enter, calling out their names. Bob's head peeks out from the hallway as a smile spreads across his face. "Hey. What a nice surprise." He seems to spend an awful amount of time at our place. Either he moved in and my mother is doing a good damn job hiding it, or he lives in a shit hole. "Hey, Bob. How are you?"
"Pretty good. Harry is in his room and your mother is in the shower," he offers. I weakly smile at him and knock on Harry's room. When I hear him yelling through the door 'Come in', I enter. He's sprawled on his bed, a sketchpad in a hand, and a pencil in another. I grin immediately, feeling like deja vu. He closes the pad and places it aside, sitting up straight. His leg pops up from his shorts, showing the light pink burning scars across it. I sit beside him.
"It's odd to see you here," he crosses his arms. I frown. Is he pissed from me? Because his tone indicates so. "I'm taking you out," I tell him. His shoulders relax and his eyes turn into slits, scrutinising the idea of it. "To where?"
"I don't know." I get off the bed, "You pick." He seems to indulge the idea as he stands up and heads for the door, to wear his shoes. Just then, my mother emerges from the shower. "Hi, darling." She opens her arms wide taking me in for a hug. "Hey, mom."
"Oh, I missed you so much." Her bottom lip starts to quiver. Harry notices what's about to happen: another breakdown of hers, so he interrupts. "Come on, Lesley." I plant a kiss on her cheek and shrug. "Sorry, mom. Got to go."
She frowns. "Where?"
"Not sure yet. But I'm taking Harry out. I'll send him back in an hour."
Her eyebrows strike up as she smiles. "Have fun, kids. And Lesley?" She yells after me as I reach the door. "You and Adam should come over for dinner some time."
I offer a weak smile, "I'll let him know."
If he shows up, already.
***
"They have ketchup in this." Harry crinkles his nose, tossing the burger aside. I pull the straw of the smoothie out of my mouth and frown. "You didn't tell the waitress that you didn't want any."
"Whatever," he shrugs. I sigh and reach for a napkin, dabbing the ketchup of the burger and buns. "Here," I slide the plate in front of him.
"Thanks," he smiles. We're sitting in a diner, with rollerskating waitresses. Instead of checking my phone each second, I decide to power it off and place it in my purse. "How's school?" I ask. He takes a bite, swallows and replies, "It's all right. I broke up with Valerie."
I gasp. "Why?"
He shrugs. "She wanted 'more from me'". He air quotes. "Whatever that means." He rolls his eyes and I try to bite down on a laugh.
"Mom told me that you're refusing to enter an art contest. Why is that?" I ask.
"I don't know." He shrugs. "The art teacher wants me to submit the painting of dad. I don't think I want to."
I frown. "Why is that? Isn't he a muse to you of some sort?"
"He was. But not anymore. I feel like I'm drawing him better in my portraits. Everyday that passes by, I'm starting to forget his voice and his looks. I just don't want to submit a false portrait of his actual appearance."
I stare at him, eyes widen open. It makes sense. And a lot actually. "Then don't." I offer a smile. "Submit what you want to. It could be a sketch of an ant or the eiffel tower. Just show them what you got. And show them all of it."
He takes another bite, and I wait for him to reply. He finally gives in. "Fine."
I smile, feeling victorious. "Icecream?" I ask as he finishes. "And then I drive you home." He nods in agreement.
After driving Harry home and heading back to an empty apartment, I shower and watch some television. But time ticks, the hours roll, and I find myself aching to look for him. It's nine o'clock and I still didn't hear for him. I called and texted and now I'm worried. Is this how it's going to be? I know he was uneasy with everything and my intern might just added up. But I deserve an explanation and at least a phone call would be nice, assuring me he's alright.
When the clock strikes ten, I grab my keys and head out. Im not sure where to search, but I head to the only place he finds his peace of mind.