I was there when Shane and Anna-Marie had their four-year hurricane of a relationship, that’s true. I don’t know that that means every relationship is doomed.
But it doesn’t matter, because Maya wasn’t even willing to give me a chance. Shane’s right. I need to shake it off. “Let’s go,” I say. “If this place sucks and we want to hit Voodoo, we need to get moving, or we’re going to be late to the airport.”
Shane nods his approval and storms back out of the room, probably to tell JT to hurry the hell up.
I climb out of bed and dig up some clothes I didn’t wear all night. It’s probably for the best that Maya didn’t want a relationship with me. It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.
But, like a sucker, I know I’m going to call her from the airport. If she wants to be friends, great. If not, she’ll reject me again. I want to say it can’t hurt worse than it already does, but I’m pretty sure it can.
Still, all I’m thinking about as I get into the car with Shane and JT is when I’ll be able to hear her voice again.
Four
Maya
Isleep fitfully, dozing in and out of consciousness, and in both states, I find myself thinking of Kevin. Of what it felt like to kiss him, the softness and intensity all at once of my lips against his, of his hand on the small of my back, drawing me towards him, and how much I longed to be closer, to feel my body pressed to him, to feel all of him—
When I dip into sleep, I imagine that I did, and our bodies moved together and there was heat, so much heat . . .
But then I wake up enough to remember that, really, I pulled away. Because I wanted that heat so bad. Because, more than just his body, I wantedhim, and I knew that wasn’t possible. He’s a rock star, and any kind of real relationship would be too risky, too bound to end in heartache. And a one-night stand with someone I want more with . . . Nope.That’s not out of my comfort zone; that’s just plain stupid.
By the time I actually wake up enough that I know I’m not going to doze off again, I’ve re-convinced my brain of the necessity of my choice to not go further. It doesn’t mean, though, that I don’t keep thinking of him.
I roll over in the dark and check my phone. It’s 9:38 in the morning,wayearlier than I thought I’d be up after staying out so late. Also, I have about a dozen texts each from Leigh and Miranda, both saying to let them know the minute I wake up.These don’t sound panicked about my well-being—probably because I texted them just as I was leaving the party—but desperate to find out what happened with Kevin, who they both saw me leave with, and desperate to share their own exploits. Which undoubtedly involved a lot less clothing than mine did. In Miranda’s case, at least, it started out that way.
I text them both, and hear back from Leigh immediately:I’m coming over.
Then I pull up the blackout curtain my parents put on my window when I first moved back here, letting the light flood in—or at least what light there is.Today looks kind of drizzly and damp. I told my parents I didn’t actually need things like blackout curtains or white noise machines to help me sleep.The problem, after all, wasn’t falling or staying asleep. It was how desperately my body still needed it, no matter how much I would get.The problem was that I couldn’t stay awake.
But they wanted so much to do something to help, and considering how much help I have needed over the last several years—financially, physically, emotionally, through years of being tested for everything from sleep apnea to vitamin deficiencies to food allergies—I’m just damn lucky I have them. And Leigh and Miranda.
My chronic fatigue has forced me to cut way back on everything—most especially my social life—and no small number of people in my life made it clear they thought this was all in my head. My family and those two are pretty much the only things that have kept me going and kept me sane.
I don’t know how long I have before Leigh gets here, but I decide to try to work on some of my organic chemistry homework in the meantime. I grab my textbook and my laptop and sit back against my headboard. I open my email and pull up the notes this guy in my class,Ted, was nice enough to send me when I couldn’t make it on Wednesday.This class is one of only two I’m taking right now, which is standard for me lately—the last thing I want is to lose another whole semester’s worth of work if I have a flare-up and need to drop out again.
But I love this stuff, learning about the way the world works, the way the tiniest atoms make up the incredible whole of a person, and I can easily lose myself for hours in it.
Except today, as I read the same section over and over again, because I can’t stop thinking about Kevin.
I hear a light knocking on my door, and then my mom pokes her head in with a smile. “Did you have fun with the girls last night?”
“I did,” I say. I want to tell her about the concert and Kevin, but I hold back. Not because I can’t talk to my mom about my sex life (or current lack thereof). We’ve always been open about stuff like that. She wouldn’t care if I had a one-night stand with a rock star.
But knowing I was out so late and got up so early—thatshe would worry about, and spend the rest of the day plying me with vitamins and making sure I’m not overexerting myself. Even though I am a grown-ass woman who, after years of this shitty illness, has a pretty good, very cautious gauge on her limits.
“Good,” my mom says. “Let them know they’re still invited to the party tomorrow.”The “party” consists of my parents, my older brother and his wife, my younger sister who’s still in high school, and my grandma—pretty much the same people I see every Sunday night.The only difference is that this one will have birthday cake.
I try to blink away thoughts of Kevin and me eating cheesecake in his hotel bed. Of wanting to taste the cherry sauce on his lips. Of how, when he said to make a wish, the first image to flash through my mind was him and me next year, just like this. Possibly with fewer clothes on.
I’d forced myself to wish for a year free of fatigue flare-ups instead.
“You can tell them yourself,” I say. “Leigh’s on her way over.”
“Leigh’s already over!” I hear Leigh shout from down the stairs, and then there’s loud pounding as she runs up them. I swear, for such a petite girl, she can sound like Bigfoot charging up those stairs.
Mom chuckles. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.Take it easy, though. Especially after you ladies kept my baby up to all hours.” Leigh beams innocently back. Mom says it teasingly, but we both know there’s at least a part of her that means it.
When Mom closes the door behind her, Leigh flops down on my bed right by my feet and raises her eyebrows. “She still thinkswewere keeping you up to all hours?”
