Me:How rude.
Jude Daniel (Take a Sad Song and Make it Sexy) Crawford:I don’t mind the break.
Me:Wow, I can take a hint.
Mr. Stark:HURTFUL, Danny. It’s ok Spice Cake. I never need a break from you.
Me:Sweetheart, that’s not what you said last night.
Jude Daniel (Take a Sad Song and Make it Sexy) Crawford:
Time of death—1:15pm.??
Mr. Stark:My girl. I’ve never been so proud.
Me:I aim to please.
Jude Daniel (Take a Sad Song and Make it Sexy) Crawford:Make it stop.
Me:Love you too. Y’all behave. Be back Sunday night.
I stuff my backpack and say goodbye to Annie as we load our cars.
“Weren’t you just home earlier this week?” I ask her.
“Yeah, but you’ll be gone, and I don’t have anything to do until fall semester begins, so I’m going to work at the bakery for a few days and make some money.” She shrugs. “Plus, free meals and a pool, ya know?”
If I didn’t miss my own mom, I’d go with Annie. I love helping in her mom’s bakery. My siblings will fight, Dad is still Dad, and I’ll have to share a bunk bed with my sister. Okay, that part doesn’t bother me, but if I stay here, Nathan will either ignore me or want me to spend the whole weekend with his family. And I can’t.
Because all I want is to escape.
But if he ignores me, I’d be tempted to spend time with Jude, and that won’t solve anything. I can’t keep breathing him in to stay alive like my rescue inhaler during pollen season.
I decide to stop by Nathan’s before I get on the road. Maybe a few stress-free minutes will give me some new perspective. Maybe he misses me.
But if I’m being honest, I don’t miss him.
Maybe I miss the idea of what I thought this relationship would be, but I don’t miss the circular gotcha conversations or aggravated sighs when I ask for help. I don’t miss carefullychoosing my words or being talked down to, and I really, really don’t miss stuffing down every part of who I am.
What I want is a way out.
A way that won’t include getting caught in his rage or cornered without witnesses.
He hasn’t had time for me, and the longer I’m away from him, the more I return to myself.
I feel obligated to put in some half-hearted last-ditch effort—at least see him in person. I can’t control his behavior, but I can control mine. Right?
Giving up feels like failure, but worse than that, confronting him will be like throwing a live grenade.
I work the morning shift at Pop’s, then head out to Jonesborough without the foggiest idea of what I’m doing.
Jackson smiles and waves from his desk facing the window when he sees me pull in the driveway of his modest split-level home. He’s a project coordinator for a construction company, and since he works in the kitchen, we usually stay in Nathan’s room in the basement.
Jackson’s an easygoing guy around thirty. And I like him, but I get the feeling he allows Nathan to run over him to keep the peace too. I’m sure living with Nathan is no picnic.
I follow the driveway around to the back door that enters the basement apartment and park next to Nathan’s car. I knock twice before I use my key and push the door open. It’s mostly dark except for the TV.
“Hey, Nathan, it’s me. Can I come in?”
