But the worries were there nonetheless, rooted in a painful reality that was never far from the bubble we were trying to survive in.
Maxx wouldn’t talk to me about the club or anything that had to do with that part of his life. I hated it. I didn’t want Maxx to hide things from me, even the ugly parts that I wished weren’t real.
And while he kept so much of himself shrouded in secrecy, I knew that he loved me. And even though I had yet to verbally return the sentiment, Maxx never wasted a moment to tell me how he felt.
I love you sat on the tip of my tongue. And when I’d be ready to give it voice, Maxx would leave again, and I would be left with the black, twisted worries that were becoming all too familiar.
“Well, if it isn’t my roommate! I was beginning to think I’d have to fill out a missing-person report,” Renee teased as I came into the apartment after class on Thursday. I hadn’t seen much of Renee over the past few weeks. And I had missed her. While I lived my roller coaster, I wanted so much to confide in her the way I used to be able to. Even though we were crawling slowly back to a more comfortable form of our earlier friendship, I wasn’t sure I was ready to share my painful situation.
She looked happier. The bruises from Devon’s fists were long gone, and I could tell she had started to put on some much-needed weight. Her skin had a healthy glow, and she was starting to dress in some of her old clothes.
This alone was proof that Devon was no longer in the picture.
“Ha, ha.” I rolled my eyes, dropping my book bag on the floor. I had just gone by Maxx’s apartment, hoping to see him before class. Of course he hadn’t been there. I had waited for twenty minutes, but he hadn’t shown up. I had left only when it started raining.
“When was the last time you spent the night here? I was beginning to think I lived by myself,” Renee said, closing the book she had been reading and putting it on the couch beside her.
When I didn’t say anything, she gave me a small smile.
“So who’s the guy, and why haven’t I met him yet?” she asked, following me into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. Popping the top, I took a long drink, thinking about how I was going to answer her.
I continued to live in a constant state of paranoia about being found out. I agonized over what would happen should the wrong person see Maxx and me together. I invented horrific scenarios in my head about the moment when my entire world would implode and my dreams would be dashed to the floor.
I put my soda can down on the counter and let out a sigh. Renee crossed her arms over her chest and regarded me steadily. Despite how much our friendship had changed over the past year, she still knew me better than most anyone.
“What’s wrong? Is it this guy?” she asked, sounding concerned. I sighed again. Renee frowned.
“Take it from me, no guy is worth making you feel like shit,” she stated firmly.
I leaned against the cabinets, bracing myself against the counter. “I think I love him,” I said quickly, shocking myself. The words had slipped out without my usual resistance restraining them. I covered my mouth with my hand as though I could shove the words back inside where they were safe. But now that they were out, there was no putting them back.
Renee blinked in surprise. “Huh? You love a guy I’ve never even met? Someone you never mention at all? Sorry, but I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed, cocking her eyebrow at me in disbelief.
“I can’t talk about him, Renee,” I begged, hoping she’d let it go. But there was no walking away from it now.
“Uh-uh, you and I are long overdue for a good, long girl talk. Grab the ice cream, I’ll get the chips, and we’re parking our asses on the couch,” Renee instructed, and I couldn’t help but smile. After keeping secrets for so long, I found myself looking forward to letting some of them go.
I pulled two pints of Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer and met her in the living room.
“You need to start at the beginning and go from there. Why is this relationship so secret? It’s not like you,” Renee said as we settled on the couch.
I put a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth, hoping the resulting brain freeze would knock some sense into my otherwise thick skull.
“He’s in the support group I help to facilitate,” I admitted, confessing my sins quickly. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid—better to do it all at once.
Renee’s eyes widened. “Well, that can’t be good,” she observed.
“Uh, no, it’s really bad actually,” I mumbled, scooping more ice cream into my mouth.
“Well, the secretiveness makes sense now,” Renee mused, putting the Ben & Jerry’s aside to start on a bag of sour-cream-and-onion potato chips.
“It started before I realized anything was going on. He sort of snuck up on me, and then it was like a full-blown meltdown. Does that make any sense?” I asked. Actually talking about my relationship with Maxx made me realize how reckless the entire situation was.
“Completely,” Renee answered, grimacing. I knew she was thinking about Devon, and not for the first time, I felt guilty for how judgmental and unsympathetic I had been about her feelings for her ex. I now understood how difficult it could be to let go of someone you cared about, even if you knew he was bad for you.
“Brooks knows,” I said.
Renee surprised me by rolling her eyes. “Good. He needs a reality check.”
“Huh?” I asked.
Renee handed me the chips. “That guy has been panting after you for entirely too long. It’s embarrassing to watch.”
I shook my head. “No way. We’re just friends. We’ve been there, done that, got the crappy T-shirt,” I argued.
Renee rolled her eyes again, making me feel as though I had missed something glaringly obvious. “Well, you’re blind then. Because that boy wants a return ticket on the Aubrey Duncan express train straight into your panties. You guys have known each other . . . biblically. There is no way you can go from that to friendship without having all sorts of complicated shit under the surface. And Brooks Hamlin wants you . . . bad. So I say, good! He needed something major to make him move the hell on,” Renee remarked, not unkindly.
Her crass observation brought a whole new level of complication to an already convoluted equation. Was Renee right? Of course she was right. Deep down I had suspected the same thing for a while now.
“But he knows. And if you’re right and he’s got these unrequited feelings, what’s to stop him from telling someone?” I moaned.