𝔸𝕧𝕒
I didn't even make a conscious decision to show up at Jen's, but through a teary haze I found myself pulling into her driveway and walking up to the door. The door is frosted glass and I can just make out two silhouettes through the warm light emanating from the house.
My fist taps at the door before I have a chance to pull it back out of embarrassment.
What am I even going to say?
As I try to think about it, tears start streaming out of my eyes and down my cheeks and I quickly descend into a blubbering mess. The door swings open and I'm met by the very confused but concerned face of Deb, Jen's ex and roommate.
Now I'm crying on Jen's doorstep in front of her ex-girlfriend like a crazy person.
This is great. I'm great. Things are going great right now.
"Ava," she says with a soft sympathetic voice. "Oh my gosh, come in honey!"
She pulls me in with a reassuring arm around my shoulders and guides me inside. My eyes continue to gush tears as I breathe in gasps and stutters, attempting—unsuccessfully—to sound the least bit coherent.
Deb sits down in an armchair as Jen rushes to me and sits me down on their big, plush brown couch, giving me a big bear hug.
"Who are we killing?" Jen asks, her lips in a tight, straight line.
"Z-... Za-..." I stutter.
"Zane, that son of a bitch!" she exclaims, instantly launching up from her seat. Jen's fury in my defense is palpable. "What did he do? Did he cheat on you? That motherfucker cheated on my girl? That's it, he's getting a swift kick to the chicken tenders!"
"No," I manage to eke out. "He... bro... ke up... wi-ith... m-me..."
She bites her lip and scrunches her face. "I'm sorry hon, I have no idea what you just said. It sounded like something about Hebrew Butterfree?"
"I think she said homo coffee," Deb chimes in.
"What the heck is homo coffee, Deb?" Jen snaps.
"Well, I'm sorry Jennifer," Deb says with sarcasm. "Clearly Hebrew Butterfree makes way more sense!"
As I watch the two, I hear a burst of laughter. It takes me a moment to realize it's coming from me. The reality of the whole situation is overwhelming and I find myself laughing at the notion that I got dumped by a mythical creature over the phone and now I'm here covered in gross crying-goo having an epic meltdown in front of Jen's ex-girlfriend who I barely know while they try to translate my nonsense wailing.
What is my life right now?
"Well, we broke Ava," Jen says to Deb in a flat voice.
I continue to laugh and cry simultaneously.
With a few deep breaths, I manage to compose myself and say, "He broke up with me."
Jen places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Well yeah, hon, I kinda assumed that, but why? What happened?"
"He just said he doesn't want to be with me," I say with a sniffle. "He did it over the phone. He wouldn't even explain in person."
"Over the phone?" she asks with wide eyes. "What a fucking douche donut!"
"Did something happen before this?" Deb asks.
My eyes fall to my lap as I remember my crazy behavior at the party. And before that, our encounter with my jerk of a half brother. I told him a bunch of the details of my stupid, messed-up life.
Why wouldn't he run away from the mountain of baggage I unloaded on him?
I explain everything as Jen shifts between concern for me and a poorly-masked desire to murder Zane.
"I mean," she says. "That's not like you, he knows that. And your brother is not your fault. If those are his reasons for breaking up with you, he's stupid."
Deb returns from the kitchen with a glass of ice water for me and places it on a coaster, before excusing herself for the evening so we can talk.
"I don't know, Jen," I say. "You didn't see it. I was totally paranoid and he probably thinks I'm a drunk like my brother and dad."
"Wait," she says with a furrowed brow. "Wasn't that one of the side effects for your medication? Paranoia?"
"Oh, I'm not sure."
"Hold on, what's it called?" she asks. "Loranizapran? Lernapralozem? Okay screw it you type it..."
She passes the phone to me and I type it in.
"Bingo!" she says. "Paranoia and erratic behavior—common. It also says 'may enhance the effects of alcohol.'"
"Oh," I say softly.
"I mean, Zane is still a dick and doesn't deserve you but I just want to be clear that what happened wasn't you. I know that, and quite honestly he should've known that too."
"It doesn't change anything."
"That's okay, I just don't want you beating yourself up thinking that you deserved to be broken up with. Because A: You didn't. And B: Even if you went all wild jealous, you're still worth sticking it out for. You're kick-ass and him not getting that just shows what a total idiot he is."
Part of me wants to argue with her.
I don't feel kick-ass—I feel like a total train wreck.
But at the same time, I'm mad that he insisted on getting to know me, on asking about my family and my life, and then judged me for it.
This is why I feel like I can't ever reveal too much. There will always be those little landmines in a relationship that, once you stumble upon them, blow everything to hell. That person will never look at you the same way. It's too late—the damage is done.
"Do you want me to ask Shayna to spike his drinks with laxatives?" she asks, in a sweet tone that only works coming out of Jen's mouth.
"Things still going well between you two?" I ask, desperate to change the subject after one too many hours of crying.
"Yeah, it's great. I was worried at first because she got kind of upset over the whole living situation thing, but now we're really good."
Jen smiles and pulls me in for a hug, adding, "I'm pretty confident I could get her to poison someone for me. Just sayin'."
*****
Jen talked me into swinging by my place to grab some of my things so that I can stay with her for a few days.
"Okay, tomorrow I'm taking you into the doctor and we're getting you off this creepy medicine," she says, pulling her car into my empty spot. I recognize a familiar but unexpected car in the lot: a red seventies-era pickup truck.
Kieran is here.
"Oh," Jen says, eyeing Kieran's truck. "Listen, if he brought that British asshat I'm happy to handle it."
It didn't occur to me that Zane might be with him, but I see Kieran standing alone at my door. He gives me a small, almost apologetic wave.
I tell Jen I can handle it and ask her to wait in the car. With a little pushing, she finally agrees.
"What, Kieran?" I ask, not intending to come off as harsh as I actually do.
"Are you okay?" he asks in a soft, serious tone that I've never heard from him before.
"Not really," I say with a sigh.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I'm Zane's friend and all, but you're my friend too, at least I consider you a friend. I just want to help. Zane can be a great guy but he can also be a total idiot."
We both chuckle a little as I let myself in to the apartment and invite him in behind.
"I'm just stopping by to grab some things," I explain.
"You gonna stay with Jen?" he asks.
"Yeah, for a bit."
"If you want me to beat him up for you, I'm happy to," he says with a smirk. "It's one of my favorite pastimes anyway."
"Thanks, but uh, Jen has already pretty aggressively volunteered for the job."
"Jen is a legend," he says with a smile.
I turn to grab a hairbrush from the bathroom.
"You know I'm not good at this—like, understatement of the century—but he loves you. This, what he's doing, it's all bullshit. He's lying. He does want to be with you."
"Stop!" I say, chucking the hairbrush at him. "If he wanted to be with me, he wouldn't have broken up with me!"
I gasp and cover my mouth in shock. I can't believe I've escalated to throwing things at Kieran. He pauses for a moment with the hairbrush in his hand, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.
"I'm so sorry, Kieran," I say, feeling really guilty.
"You suck at throwing," he says with a smile. "Is this one of those ionizing brushes? How do you like it?"
I chuckle as he inspects the hairbrush.
"This hair isn't as effortless as I make it seem," he says with a hair toss. "Even demons aren't immune to frizz."
I smile and gather up my last few things before we walk out together.
"Just so you know, what Zane does and what he wants are often two different things," he says before he returns to his car. "Everyone calls him The Iron Siren because he's always been very good at resisting what he really wants. He'll do what he thinks is right, even if it hurts him."