The Arrangement Anthology 1(221)
Sean glances up at the building again and back at me. “Fine, but I’ll come up with you.” He puts his kickstand down and starts to turn off the bike, but I stop him.
“No, you’re not. Sean, you have something to do. Go do it as fast as you can, and when you come back, I’ll be packed and ready. You said you’d be right down the street. I can call you if I need help. I promise.”
After a lot more groveling and pleading, Sean finally agrees to let me go inside by myself. He’ll be back in a heartbeat if I need him, and he makes me swear to call him if something isn’t right.
The truth is, nothing’s right. Last night I laid in bed with him and it was perfect, in a surreal sort of way. I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and it wasn’t weird. It didn’t feel forced. I didn’t care what I looked like. It was more about how I felt, and with Sean’s strong arms around me, I felt good. It makes my stomach churn to think of the desperation in his eyes when he wanted me to ask him why I was out of bounds. I don’t want to know. I can play make-believe a while longer, can’t I?
When does pretending become a mental illness? I’ve had to pretend day in and day out that I’m fine, that I’m not falling apart. How is this any different? Sean’s my friend. I can live with that. Sort of. It’s unfair for me to expect more from him. Sean’s the way he is for a reason. He isn’t asking me to leave my baggage behind, not that I could. Besides, it’s not really baggage. It’s more like scars. Those don’t go away no matter what kind of high priced goop you slather on them. Some people say scars build character, but I think they make weak points in my suit of armor and the more scars that appear over my heart, the more likely I am to skewer myself and never get up. There’s no way to get through the day without that suit. Some people call that suit sanity, others call it the ability to deal with life. Either way, I know mine has been etched away, as if acid has been placed over my heart for years on end. The piece that protects my heart is paper-thin and too weak to protect me from much more.
For some reason, when Sean’s around it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like someone healed me and that constant aching at the center of my chest vanishes. The grief that strangles me in my nightmares is gone. I can sleep when he’s next to me. There are no shadows pulling me into the icy waters and clawing at my hair until I stop struggling and drift beneath the waves.
And that’s the thing. Life is a struggle. Who am I to complain because it isn’t easy? Mel’s life has been so much more horrifying and would have crushed a weaker person. I couldn’t walk a foot in her shoes, never mind a mile. I don’t know how she does it. I don’t know how she finds laughter when there is none.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as the doorknob twists. I’m hunched over the sink, up to my elbows in bubbles. Expecting to see Amber, I speak over my shoulder, saying sarcastically, “Thanks for cleaning the room.”
Translation: she didn’t clean up anything. Her and one of her boinking buddies must have cooked something fishy on the hotplate and left it in the room all night. The smell when I came in was so bad that no amount of air freshener will cover the stench. I already bleached the dirty dishes and have been spraying Lysol since I got here. I’m pretty sure there’s a cloud of disinfectant mist hovering in the center of the room like a tropical depression.
“You’re welcome, but it’s not my mess, babe. Amber had over that other guy she sees when I’m not around.” Naked Guy is standing in the door way with low rise jeans and no shirt. It’s still cold enough to snow.
I repress the urge to roll my eyes, and scrub a nasty pan in our little sink. Do you know how hard it is to clean pots and pans in a micro sink? Amber’s an idiot. That’s the first thought that enters my mind, and the second one is more alarming—what if it was him? Naked Guy is a few screws short. I shove my paranoia away, and say over my shoulder, “She’s not here.”
Naked Guy lets the door shut behind him and makes his way across the room to where I am. He leans against the counter opposite me and grins. “Oh? I guess she’ll be here soon. Mind if I wait?”
Yes. “No. I’m leaving in a sec anyway. My friend is coming to pick me up. He’s a big scary guy.” Ha. I added that for good measure, but the dim wit doesn’t seem to care. It so wasn’t him. This guy couldn’t find his way out of a barrel. He’s too obsessed with his pecs.
I feel his eyes on the side of my face and know he’s watching me. “So, are you and Amber going to the Astronomy Lab to watch the meteor shower this weekend? I heard it’s supposed to look really cool from up there.”