Текст книги "Follow Me Back"

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

chapter

thirty-one

aubrey

ilove you, I texted to Maxx as I walked across campus toward the psychology building.

I love you more, he texted back only a minute later, making me smile.

Since coming back from North Carolina more than a week ago, I hadn’t been able to get over the nagging worry that something was different between us. The twinge of anxiety brought back nasty emotions I was trying hard to overcome.

Distrust being the most lethal.

The likelihood of relapse can be as high as 60 percent. Staying sober is a lifetime battle. What makes you think anything will be different?

That horrible voice taunted me with statistics and facts, reminding me of the likelihood that Maxx was indeed headed back down a dark path.

We had been back together for such a short time. I hated how quickly our respite had faded.

Suspicion was poisonous. It tainted everything.

I had experienced it once before, and I had sworn when I decided to try with Maxx again that it was a fixation I wasn’t willing to reacquaint myself with.

Truthfully, Maxx had done nothing to warrant my wariness. He continued to work at the Coffee Jerk and look for other employment options. I hadn’t seen anything to make me think he was using again.

So why the twinges of apprehension when we were together? I had convinced myself that my instinct was impaired. I needed to learn to trust him. To not question everything he said and did. But forgetting our painful past was hard.

Particularly as I headed to Dr. Lowell’s office for my weekly progress meeting. I hadn’t yet told her about Maxx, but I knew that I couldn’t put it off any longer.

Today might very well change the rest of my life.

“Hi, Aubrey! Have a seat.” Dr. Lowell waved her hand at me and I walked inside, dropping my bag onto the floor.

I handed her my signed slip from Dr. Jones, my Boundaries and Ethics professor.

Dr. Lowell checked it off and put it in my file on her desk. She crossed her hands over the folder and gave me a smile.

“I went to visit my parents a couple of weekends ago.” I don’t know why I felt the need to tell her this. Only that she had always been such an easy person to confide in. “I feel like we’ve been able to deal with Jayme’s death and move forward as a family. Finally.”

Dr. Lowell’s smile broadened. “That’s wonderful, Aubrey. I’m seeing a lot of positive steps forward for you, which pleases me immensely. I think we are definitely able to start talking about next semester and how to reestablish your place in the program.”

This was it. My moment of truth. I froze momentarily, unable to say anything.

Dr. Lowell looked proud, an expression I hadn’t seen on her face directed at me in a while. She was handing me back the keys to my chosen kingdom. I had proven myself in her eyes, and she was willing to take me back into the fold.

But I couldn’t enjoy the victory, because it was laced with lies.

“Why did you want to be a counselor, Dr. Lowell?” I asked her. She looked startled by my question.

“Hmm. Well, I suppose it was for the same reasons as you, to help people,” she answered.

“Did you ever think that maybe it was a mistake? That you were traveling down the wrong path?” I continued, not entirely sure where I was going with this conversation but knowing I had some things to say before I chickened out.

Dr. Lowell sat back in her chair and seemed to think about what I was asking her. “No, Aubrey, I didn’t. I’ve always known that this was my purpose in life. But it’s totally normal to have doubts. It’s part of growing up,” she said, with kind and understanding eyes.

“I get that most people waver in their path from time to time, but for me, after everything, I’ve really been thinking if perhaps this all happened because I’m not meant to be an addictions counselor. That maybe I’ve gone into this for all the wrong reasons.”

“Where is this coming from, Aubrey? If you need more time before coming back into the program—”

“It’s not that, Dr. Lowell. When I was in high school I planned to go to college to become a teacher. It was my dream. Then my sister died and all of that changed and I became sort of obsessed with helping others the way I felt I had failed her. My old dreams faded under my guilt. And then I met Maxx.” I paused and took a breath.

“And I realized that there was more out there than these so-called plans I had.” I looked at my favorite professor. “Have you ever met someone who makes you question everything?”

Dr. Lowell frowned. “I’m confused, Aubrey. Are you telling me you don’t want to be in the counseling program anymore?”

I bit on my lip and prepared myself to take the most significant step of my entire life. “Maxx Demelo and I are seeing each other again,” I said, and watched Dr. Lowell’s swift intake of breath and narrowing eyes.

“Aubrey—” she began, warning clear in her tone, but I cut her off.

“And I understand that this will impact my chances of reentering the counseling program. I thought I’d be more upset by this than I am. When I really thought about giving up on being a counselor, I found that I wasn’t quite as devastated as I should be in giving up my dream. Because I realized it was never really my dream to begin with.”

I sat up a little straighter and looked Dr. Lowell in the eye. “It was my attempt to fix myself, but that’s not a reason to go into a profession whose aim is to help others. I think it’s time that I follow dreams that will make me happy, not remind me of my pain.”

Dr. Lowell looked at a loss for words, which was a first. She seemed flustered and tapped her pen against her coffee cup several times before responding.

“I can’t say I’m not disappointed, Aubrey, because I am. I’m worried that you are making decisions based on a relationship that has already proven destructive and inappropriate.”

I understood her concerns. But they were far from the truth.

“This has nothing to do with Maxx, actually. This decision, this choice, has to do with me. I’ve got to stop letting my past influence my future.”

Dr. Lowell took a drink of coffee and sat quietly for a time.

“You do understand that by changing your major this late in the game, it will affect your graduation date. I’m not sure how you will graduate with your class,” she said, sounding tired and maybe a little sad.

“I understand. I also understand that I’d have to find a new adviser in the education department.”

Dr. Lowell nodded. “Yes, you would,” she agreed.

We were both quiet for a time. This was a major turning point, and I felt a brief hesitation. What if I was making a huge mistake? Was I really doing this?

Yes. I was.

“I want to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me. When I came here as a freshman, I was lost and floundering. You gave me something to tether myself to. This program gave me a purpose for a little while, and for that I will always be grateful.”

Dr. Lowell got to her feet and came around from behind her desk. Before I realized it, my mentor, my favorite professor, was enveloping me in a hug.

“You’re an amazing young woman, Aubrey. I hope you always remember that.”

It felt like the end of an era. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

For the first time in years, I was okay with not knowing what the next step would be. When I looked into my future, I didn’t see school and career.

I only saw Maxx.

He was my new dream.

And for that moment I did trust him. I believed in him. In us.

I just hoped I wouldn’t be proven wrong about him again.

“Can I come over? I’ve got something for you,” I said to Maxx. It was Saturday, and I had hoped to spend the day with him.

I had called him to tell him about my meeting yesterday. He was supportive and just as enthusiastic as I was about the change.

“I think it’s a great opportunity for you. And we don’t have to sneak around, double bonus,” he enthused after I told him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of scary, but I think it’s the right move for me,” I said. I felt a little sick when I thought about having to essentially start back at the beginning, but I knew that if I had continued on the counseling track I would have been doing it for the worst possible reasons. My career shouldn’t be about proving myself. It should be chosen because it makes me happy and fulfilled.

And if I was truly honest with myself, counseling never made me feel either of those things. It had been about running from my past and making up for things that, now that I was thinking outside of the thick cloud of grief, were never really my fault to begin with.

Jayme’s death wasn’t my fault. It had taken me entirely too long to realize that.

The guilt, the shame, every snarled, tangled emotion that had weighed me down for the last three years, had slowly been dissipating.

I stared at the framed picture in my hands and grinned. I had discreetly taken Maxx’s photo of his family from its spot at the back of his drawer. I had taken it downtown and gotten it framed.

After confronting my parental demons, I felt it was time for Maxx to do the same. He needed to see that his memories of his parents weren’t something that he needed to hide away.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” he asked, sounding distracted.

“It’s a surprise,” I teased, annoyed by his lack of attention.

“I’d love to see you, but I can’t tonight.”

“Why not?” I asked, hearing the accusation in my tone.

“I’m going out to see Landon for a little while,” he said, and I relaxed.

“I’m glad you guys are talking again,” I said. I knew that Maxx was working hard to repair his relationship with his brother. If they were spending time together, then he was getting somewhere.

“Yeah, well, I’d better get going.” He sounded sort of dismissive, but I chalked it up to his thinking about his evening with his brother.

That was all it could be.

Right?

“Okay, then,” I said, a little disappointed. I put the framed picture in my bedside drawer.

“I’ll come by in the morning to see you before heading into work. You can give me my surprise then,” Maxx suggested.

“Okay, sounds good. Have fun tonight.”

“I love you, Aubrey. Everything I do is for you. You know that, right?” Why was he asking me this? His question bothered me.

“Yeah, I know that. But I hope you’re doing it for you too,” I couldn’t help but say.

“I love you,” he repeated.

“I love you, too.”

I hung up the phone strangely disquieted. I pushed the feeling aside and walked out into the living room, an evening of nothing spread out before me.

I saw that Renee was also on the phone, a smile on her face. “I’ll see you in a little bit, then,” she was saying, and I tried not to eavesdrop, but I was nosy.

She hung up the phone, and I scurried to the kitchen.

“I see you, Aubrey,” Renee called out, following me.

I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, trying to act nonchalant. Renee entered the kitchen and gave me a pointed look, arching an eyebrow. “You want to know who I was talking to just now. Admit it.”

“I’ll admit no such thing,” I said, lifting my chin.

“I was talking to Iain,” Renee said, grabbing her own glass and filling it with orange juice.

Her answer surprised me. “Iain? I thought you had nixed that.”

“Yeah, well, everyone has a change of heart now and then,” she said blandly.

I emptied the rest of my water into the sink and turned to my blasé roommate. “What brought this on?” I asked.

“Don’t act like you don’t have your own ideas,” Renee said.

“Devon?” I asked, and Renee nodded.

“Let’s just say I realized the error of my ways and smartened up before I made an even bigger mess of things.” She looked sadly resigned.

“Does this have to do with what happened at the coffee shop?” I asked. Renee had never talked about the day her ex had stood outside the window and the ensuing argument.

Renee leaned back against the cabinets, closing her eyes briefly before looking at me with a ferocity that shocked me. “I was a stupid, stupid girl. I thought love could fix a man like that. I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I let myself slip, Aubrey. And do you know what happened?”

“What?” I asked.

“He proved that he was the same asshole he always was. He won’t change. I’m not sure he can. But I’m not going to be the girl to wait around and find out.” She seemed so sure, so firm. I was happy to see it, but something bothered me.

“What exactly happened, Renee?”

Renee rubbed at a spot in the middle of her forehead. “His anger is an issue, Aubrey. It always has been. His jealousy is out of control. I thought he was different. He promised me that he was. But I found out very quickly that it was a lie. We were the lie.”

“But what about Iain?”

Renee shrugged. “I like Iain. He’s sweet, considerate, gentle. The complete opposite of Devon in every single way. And most importantly, he doesn’t make my heart hurt for loving him. Because that will never happen again.”

“I’m sorry, Renee,” I said quietly.

She gave me a wan smile and straightened her shoulders. “Don’t be. It was a lesson I had to learn all over again, I suppose. But I can tell you one thing, I’m not letting my heart do the talking ever again.”

She seemed so resolute. So sure her heart had led her astray. “Your heart won’t always be wrong,” I told her softly.

I thought my heart had loved the wrong person. But instead, it had led me home.

chapter

thirty-two

maxx

i didn’t think about what lying to Aubrey meant.

I couldn’t.

I hadn’t started my day thinking it would end with my deceit.

That I’d be perilously close to backsliding into my old life, my old world.

I had spent my morning at work and felt good when I had received higher than average tips. Sure, it wouldn’t cover the cost of my rent, but it was a good start. I still had the thousand bucks from club scouting sitting in my bank account and planned to scout again next week. It was a decent job, and I was trying to stay optimistic about it.

If I was able to scout and not actually go to the club, then I didn’t necessarily feel like I was keeping anything from Aubrey. I couldn’t tell her about it, because I knew it would only worry her.

But in the back of my mind, Gash’s other offer was a tantalizing possibility. As was the envelope of pills I still kept hidden in the back of my closet.

I was feeling somewhat upbeat, given my recent bout of pessimism.

And then my brother came for a visit.

“Landon! What are you doing here?” I asked, opening the door to him.

In all the years I had lived in my dinky apartment, Landon had never been by for a visit. And that had been completely intentional.

I had worked really damn hard to keep Landon away from the shit in my life. I never wanted him to see how I lived. But there was no point in keeping up pretenses anymore.

Landon came inside and looked around. “This is where you live?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is. Welcome to Casa de Maxx,” I said wryly. I felt mildly ashamed when I saw the barely disguised look of disgust on his face.

“It’s kind of ghetto,” he observed.

“Yeah, well, the rent is cheap. So, did you come by to criticize my interior decorating skills?” I asked lightly, trying not to get pissed by my brother’s comment.

Landon stopped snooping and sat down on my couch, pulling some brochures out of his backpack. “Well, I’ve been talking to my guidance counselor more about art school. You remember me talking about that with you, right?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

I knew what he was thinking. Did I remember or had I been too high to hear him?

“Yeah, I remember,” I said a touch defensively, sitting down beside him.

He handed me a pile of glossy paper. “Well, these are brochures from three of my top picks. I was wondering if you’d look at them with me.” He sounded kind of angry as he asked me. “You know, because I don’t have anyone else to really ask. None of my friends want to hear about art school, and even though David is less of an asshole, he’s still an asshole.”

“And I was your choice by default,” I said. Damn this kid and his ability to wound me. It made me want to shake him senseless.

Landon rubbed his forehead in an agitated gesture. “Yeah—” Then he looked at my face. “No, actually,” he admitted grudgingly. “I wanted to look at this stuff with you. To get your opinion. Because even though you’re a lying sack of shit, you’re still my brother,” he mumbled petulantly.

“Wow, you sure know how to sweet-talk a fellow,” I deadpanned.

“Whatever,” Landon said under his breath.

There was a long moment of silence, then I picked up the first brochure and started to skim the information. “So what is it exactly you want my expert opinion on?” I asked.

Landon shrugged. “I don’t know, really. They’re all good schools. I’d like to go visit them over the summer before filling out my applications in the fall. Maybe you could come with me,” he suggested offhandedly, as though it were no big deal.

I shrugged and tried not to smile. “Yeah, sure, that’d be cool,” I said just as neutrally. Landon nodded and pulled out another pile of papers, dropping them in my lap.

“This is information about classes and stuff. It’s a lot and it sort of makes me crazy looking at it all.”

“Well, let me help you out, then,” I offered, starting to thumb through the information.

And then I came to the cost of tuition and almost lost my lunch.

“Shit, Landon, is this how much it fucking costs to go to one of these schools?” I couldn’t help myself from saying.

Landon instantly froze, our period of thawing camaraderie now over. “I know how much it costs, Maxx. But I’m also working my ass off so I’m eligible for a crapload of financial aid. You know, so you don’t feel like you have to help me out. We saw how great that turned out last time,” he spat out hatefully.

I swallowed down my angry retort and tried to remember those super-helpful breathing techniques forced down my throat in rehab.

After a few minutes I was feeling better. “There’s nothing wrong with my wanting to help you out, Lan,” I told him.

“I just don’t want you thinking you have to,” Landon said glumly.

I looked down at the number blazing back at me from the page. Landon had always been my responsibility. I had always contributed toward his welfare. But now I could barely keep my water turned on and food in my stomach.

How in the fuck would I ever be able to keep myself afloat and feel like I was doing what I needed to do for the people I cared about?

“Okay, well, let’s not worry about that right now and just look at these schools,” I said, changing the subject, but the burn of failure raged in my gut.

“Okay, cool,” Landon replied, giving me a small smile.

And I smiled back, even if inside I was screaming.

The club was pounding in the distance as I pulled my car into the field. Marco and I had discovered the old airstrip by chance earlier in the week. It had been a real find. It had served as the regional airport in the sixties but had closed a decade later due to funding cuts.

Gash and company had set up shop in the old hangar. I could see lights flashing from the smashed windows, and the ground vibrated under my feet. There was no fear of being discovered this far out of town. There was nothing around for miles. It was perfect.

Marco saw me before I saw him. “X!” he yelled loud enough to be heard over the thumping music.

Every single person standing in line turned in my direction. I saw the widening of eyes and heard the whispering begin and I couldn’t help but grin. It felt nice to be noticed. I missed the notoriety. The attention.

Marco clapped me on the shoulder and immediately ushered me inside. The hangar was a huge open space. Gash’s crew had set up a bar at the very back and flickering strobes and laser lights hung down from the ceiling. The DJ booth was perched up on a platform in the middle of the room.

“What in the fuck are you doing here, man? I never thought I’d see your ugly mug on this side of the rope again.”

I looked around for the signs of Gash’s crew. He usually set up camp on club nights in some out-of-the-way location, close enough to keep an eye on things but far enough away that he didn’t have to be a part of the festivities. For all of his shady dealings, he didn’t enjoy the actual club.

“I’m here to talk to Gash,” I said, shouting over the music.

Marco frowned. “Oh yeah? What about?” he asked, and I looked at the guy who had been my friend for years in surprise.

“What do you think, dumb-ass?” I snapped, annoyed that he expected me to say it out loud.

I thought Marco would have whooped when he heard I was rejoining the fray. He had been pressuring me long enough to dip my toes back into the scene. But he didn’t seem very happy about my news. He seemed . . . worried.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, man,” he said, pulling me to the side and away from the rest of the crowd.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Polo? You’ve been up my ass for months to come back to the club. Remember your whole you’re the king of sleaze, X, pep talk? What the hell is your problem?”

Marco tugged on his eyebrow ring, something he only did when he was nervous. He looked around and then dropped in close to my face, invading my personal space in a way I didn’t appreciate.

“There’s just been rumblings . . .” he began to say, but then I heard my name being called.

“X!”

I looked over to see Vincent, Gash’s lackey, motioning for me to follow him.

I turned back to Marco. “I’ll catch up with you later, all right?” I said.

Marco shrugged as though he hadn’t been really weird only seconds before. “Whatever. See ya.” And then he bled into the crowd, returning to his spot at the front door.

I followed Vincent to the back of the room and into a tiny office. Gash was inside with a handful of people, smoking a spliff.

“X! Good to see you, come in,” Gash said, his voice tight with a lungful of smoke.

He waved the rest of the people out until I was left with only Gash and Vincent.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be coming back,” Gash said, though I could tell by the smirk on his face that he knew he’d see me again. And he knew exactly what I was here for.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about your offer,” I started to say.

Gash nodded to Vincent, who reached into a leather satchel and pulled out two freezer bags full of pills.

I felt sick taking them from Vincent. They burned my fingers with guilt and shame.

I couldn’t believe I had resorted to this. I had worked so hard to put this behind me, and here I was jumping back in with the sharks.

But I was feeling desperate and I was tired of not being able to provide for myself. I just needed to make enough to get by until I could figure something else out. This would not be a permanent solution.

I was dedicated to my new life. This would just help ensure that I didn’t drown while I was trying to live it.

At least, that’s what I’d managed to convince myself.

“It’s important that you’re here next Saturday with all of that. Be here no later than ten o’clock,” Gash said firmly. I frowned. Gash had never given me such specific instructions before. It was always just sell the shit and give him the money.

“Any particular reason why?” I asked, dropping the drugs into the book bag I had brought inside with me for this very purpose.

“Because I fucking said so, that’s why,” Gash yelled.

What had him so wound up?

“Okay . . .”

Gash smoothed back his graying hair and gave me his trademark smug smile. “You’re going to make us a lot of money, X. It’s good to have you back in the fold.”

I bristled. “I’m not back in the fold, Gash. This is a one-time thing. I just need some cash to help me get by. Times are tough, ya know.”

Gash laughed, a disingenuous sound. “Of course. A one-time thing. No strings attached. I get it.” Wow. He was being uncharacteristically agreeable. I had expected threats of bodily harm at the very least for not wanting to go back to dealing full-time.

“All right, well, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you next Saturday,” I said, backing up toward the door.

“Don’t be any later than ten, X. I’m fucking serious. Otherwise things may happen to you and the people you love that aren’t very nice. You get me?”

There was the Gash I knew and hated.

“Yeah, I get ya,” I responded, hoisting my bag up on my shoulder.

I left Gash’s makeshift office and headed to the front door. Hands reached out trying to grab me. Girls pressed themselves up against me, begging me for the thing I had always been able to give them.

I used to love this. And I still felt the power of it. But it felt disgusting and wrong. I didn’t stop until I was out of the club. I didn’t bother talking to Marco again, either. Not when my shame was heavy on my back.

Just one more time, I repeated to myself the whole way home.

I went home and instead of sleeping, I thought about the drugs in my bag. How much I wanted them. How much I craved them.

Just one more time . . .