“I think it’s good you’re living on your own.” Delia brushed crumbs onto the floor. Mac didn’t have the heart to tell her he didn’t own a broom. “And that you’re on your own, in general.”
“What does that mean?” Mac didn’t mean for it to come off so pointedly. Delia treaded lightly.
“You started dating Davis right away freshman year. Then as soon as you break up, you’re kinda sorta with Gideon.”
“I was neverwithGideon.” That come out even harsher.
But Delia held her ground. Like a good friend, she seemed to know when her wisdom was needed the most. “Maybe not technically, and not publicly. But in some way, you were.” She rubbed his leg. “I thought you’d be a wreck. You and Davis were together almost two years, then he dumps you and goes with somebody else. But you were happy. Genuinely happy this fall. I saw it on your face.”
Thanks to Gideon. She didn’t have to say that last part. It hung in the air like a cloud of smoke at a bingo hall.
“Even if it was just some hooking up.”
She was wrong, but Mac didn’t want to correct her. He liked that she only knew half the story. The other half, the one with feelings and the way they cuddled and talked for hours after “just hooking up,” was a secret, Mac and Gideon’s own B-side. Even though there was no more Mac and Gideon.
“Fucking Gideon.” Mac fell back on his bed. “You haven’t told Seth—”
“Nothing.” She mimed zipping her lips. “He may be a straight guy, but he’s not totally clueless. I’m sure he’s figured out something is up with how Gideon’s been acting.”
Something in Mac’s head beeped wildly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Different.” Delia brushed off some crumbs that wound up in her hair. “Even I’ve seen it. He’s just been in a funk.”
“I wonder why he’s acting like that. I mean, I thought he was happy with his new girlfriend,” Mac said, thanks to some apt Facebook stalking. He wondered if his fishing was as obvious to Delia as it was to him.
“Fuck him. He’s my boyfriend’s friend, and therefore my friend, but between you and me, fuck him. Whatever happened between you guys, it shouldn’t have ended this way. My sorority sister Lorna had a friend-with-benefit, this cute Indian guy in Kappa Kappa Sig, and after it ended they stayed friends. Speaking of Kappa Kappa Sig, they’re having a holiday party, and you’re coming.”
“I don’t know. I’m not really in the party mood.”
“I will not let you become a hermit! You have a life and a six pack.”
“I’ll think about it.” Mac opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Sprite. It was a pure impulse purchase—not to remind him of Gideon. His insides got all warm from the fizz, and only from the fizz.
“I don’t hate Gideon,” Mac said. “I want to hate him, for many reasons. But I can’t. It pisses me off.”
Delia shrugged and munched on more saltines. “Someone annoying said that love is stronger than hate, I guess.”
“Even when you stop being friends with someone, you’re still connected to them.” Mac knew that if he let himself hate Gideon, then it would ruin every memory they had together. He wasn’t ready to taint the past with that filter. “I just…I can’t hate him.”
Anger and hurt simmered in his chest, but so did longing. He drank his damn Sprite.
“You’re a better person than me.” Delia offered him crackers. He let her eat the rest of them.
Φ
Sometime after Delia left, Mac watched TV on his laptop. It was while staring at the screen as a studio audience howled with laughter that Mac realized Delia had left behind the bottle of eggnog.
He gulped down most of the drink, letting its sweet and spicy flavors distract him from the alcohol content. Mac pulled out his phone. Gideon was still in it. He was happy that Gideon was in a funk, but he felt bad if he was the cause.Damn, why can’t I just hate you?
Mac found a different number to call, thanks to his liquid courage.
“Hey, Dad!” He said. He was more ebullient than a float at Disneyworld. Eggnog must’ve been spiked with holiday cheer, among other things.
“Hi, Mac,” his dad said cautiously.
His dad’s nervousness only pushed Mac to make up the conversation deficit. “I’m drinking eggnog in my apartment.”
“By yourself?”
