The solitude of my bedroom seemed like the only place fit for me. I was too ashamed to even seek the advice of my father. Shepley caught up with me. Without a word, he got into the Charger next to me and started the engine.
We didn’t speak as Shepley drove to the apartment. The scene that would inevitably go down when Abby decided to come home was something my mind didn’t want to process.
Shepley brought his car to a stop in its usual parking spot, and I got out, walking up the stairs like a zombie. There was no possible good ending. Either Abby was going to leave because she was afraid of what she saw, or even worse—I had to release her from the bet so she could leave, even if she didn’t want to.
My heart had been back and forth between leaving Abby alone and deciding it was okay to pursue her more times than a freshly single sorority girl on the second floor of a frat house. Once inside, I threw my backpack against the wall, and made sure to slam the bedroom door behind me. It didn’t make me feel better, in fact, stomping around like a toddler reminded me just how much of Abby’s time I was wasting by pursuing her—if it could be called that.
The high-pitched hum of America’s Honda idled briefly before she cut the engine. Abby would be with her. She would either come in screaming, or the complete opposite. I wasn’t sure which would make me feel worse.
“Travis?” Shepley said, opening the door.
I shook my head, and then sat on the edge of the bed. It sank under my weight.
“You don’t even know what she’s going to say. She could just be checking on you.”
“I said no.”
Shepley closed the door. The trees outside were brown and beginning to shed what color remained. Soon they would be leafless. By the time the last leaves fell, Abby would be gone. Damn, I felt depressed.
A few minutes later, another knock on the door. “Travis? It’s me. Open up.”
I sighed. “Walk away, Pidge.”
The door creaked when she cracked it open. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t have to. Toto was behind me, and his small tail was beating my back at the sight of her.
“What is going on with you, Trav?” she asked.
I didn’t know how to tell her the truth, and part of me knew she wouldn’t hear me, anyway, so I just stared out the window, counting the falling leaves. With each one that detached and floated to the ground, we were one more closer to Abby disappearing from my life. My own natural hourglass.
Abby stood beside me, crossing her arms. I waited for her to yell, or chastise me somehow for the meltdown in the cafeteria.
“You’re not going to talk to me about this?”
She began to turn for the door, and I sighed. “You know the other day when Brazil mouthed off to me and you rushed to my defense? Well . . . that’s what happened. I just got a little carried away.”
“You were angry before Chris said anything,” she said, sitting next to me on the bed. Toto immediately crawled into her lap, begging for attention. I knew the feeling. All the antics, my stupid stunts; everything was to somehow get her attention, and she seemed oblivious to it all. Even my crazy behavior.
“I meant what I said before. You need to walk away, Pidge. God knows I can’t walk away from you.”
She reached for my arm. “You don’t want me to leave.”
She had no idea how right—and how wrong—she was. My conflicted feelings about her were maddening. I was in love with her; couldn’t imagine a life without her in it; but at the same time, I wanted her to have better. With that in mind, the thought of Abby with someone else was unbearable. Neither one of us could win, and yet I couldn’t lose her. The constant back and forth made me exhausted.
I pulled Abby against me, and then kissed her forehead. “It doesn’t matter how hard I try. You’re going to hate me when it’s all said and done.”
She wrapped her arms around me, linking her fingers around the cusp of my shoulder. “We have to be friends. I won’t take no for an answer.”
She’d stolen my line from our first date at the Pizza Shack. That seemed like a hundred lifetimes ago. I wasn’t sure when things had become so complicated.
“I watch you sleeping a lot,” I said, wrapping her in both of my arms. “You always look so peaceful. I don’t have that kind of quiet. I have all this anger and rage boiling inside of me—except when I watch you sleep.
“That’s what I was doing when Parker walked in. I was awake, and he walked in, and just stood there with this shocked look on his face. I knew what he thought, but I didn’t set him straight. I didn’t explain because I wanted him to think something happened. Now the whole school thinks you were with us both in the same night. I’m sorry.”
Abby shrugged. “If he believes the gossip, it’s his own fault.”
“It’s hard to think anything else when he sees us in bed together.”
“He knows I’m staying with you. I was fully clothed, for Christ’s sake.”
I sighed. “He was probably too pissed to notice. I know you like him, Pidge. I should have explained. I owe you that much.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not mad?” I asked, surprised.
“Is that what you’re so upset about? You thought I’d be mad at you when you told me the truth?”
“You should be. If someone single-handedly sunk my reputation, I’d be a little pissed.”
“You don’t care about reputations. What happened to the Travis that doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks?” she teased, nudging me with her elbow.
“That was before I saw the look on your face when you heard what everyone’s saying. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“You would never do anything to hurt me.”
“I’d rather cut off my arm.” I sighed.
I relaxed my cheek against her hair. She always smelled so good, felt so good. Being near her was like a sedative. My entire body relaxed, and I was suddenly so tired, I didn’t want to move. We sat together, our arms around each other, her head tucked in against my neck, for the longest time. Nothing beyond that moment was guaranteed, so I stayed there inside of it, with Pigeon.
When the sun began to set, I heard a faint knock at the door. “Abby?” America’s voice sounded small on the other side of the wood.
“Come in, Mare,” I said, knowing she was probably worried about why we were so quiet.
America walked in with Shepley, and she smiled at the sight of us tangled in each other’s arms. “We were going to grab a bite to eat. You two feel like making a Pei Wei run?”
“Ugh . . . Asian again, Mare? Really?” I asked.
“Yes, really,” she said, seeming a little more relaxed. “You guys coming or not?”
“I’m starving,” Abby said.
“Of course you are, you didn’t get to eat lunch,” I said, frowning. I stood, raising her up with me. “Come on. Let’s get you some food.”
I wasn’t ready to let go of her yet, so I kept my arm around her for the ride to Pei Wei. She didn’t seem to mind, and even leaned against me in the car while I conceded to share a number-four meal with her.
As soon as we found a booth, I unloaded my coat beside Abby and went to the bathroom. It was weird how everyone was pretending I hadn’t just pummeled someone a few hours ago, like nothing had happened. My hands formed a cup under the water, and I splashed my face, looking into the mirror. The water dripped from my nose and chin. Once again, I was going to have to swallow the dysphoria and go along with everyone else’s fake mood. As if we had to keep up pretenses to help Abby move through reality in her little bubble of ignorance where no one felt anything too strongly, and everything was cut-and-dried.