All In My Head (First Tracks Book 1) (18 page)

 “What the hell?” I heard Jazz just before her arms slid
around me. “Ave, honey, what are you doing on the floor? What happened?” Her hair
fell in front of my face before I turned into her arms.

“He found a way to leave and he did. Just like that,” I
moaned into her shirt, probably getting snot all over her. “Without a goodbye.”

“Nash?”

“Marcus.”

“Whoa…okay. Come inside and tell me everything.” She pulled
me up and inside and kicked the door shut. We made our way to the couch, where
we sat side by side, her arm around me as I poured out the entire story about
Marcus. Well, the story without any shower or bath scenes. Finding him in my
head, falling for him when I should have been happy with Nash.

“Falling for this voice?” she asked, not exactly judging,
but straining for a neutral tone. “Without seeing him?”

“I did see him, in my mind and on paper.” I ran back to my
bedroom and grabbed the drawings. A couple went flying so I flopped across the
bed to reach one. Jazz came in behind me. I twisted around, sitting up, and
held them out to her.

After a minute of flipping through the sheets, she said, “Wow,
Ave, these are fantastic.”

“They’re not mine. I didn’t draw those. He did. He used my
hand, but I’ve never been able to draw a decent stick figure. Remember when we
drew characters for our skit last year?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, I do. I’ll agree your creative
talent is all in your writing!” She looked at the papers, at me, and then sat
down to flip through the pages again, looking more closely at the drawings of
me, Marcus, that unnamed girl. Jazz’s gaze popped up for a second, asking a
silent question.

“Don’t know. Could be anyone, but he didn’t think it was a
romantic relationship. A friend, maybe?”

She was going through the stack again, throwing glances my
way occasionally, processing not just the pictures but the entire situation. I
hadn’t planned to tell her, but it was out now. Hopefully it wasn’t a huge
mistake. I couldn’t blame her if she tried to get help for me.  

“It was Marcus playing the guitar, too. I’ve never even
picked one up before I met him.”

“How…”

“And he spoke French,” I said, pressing on. “I haven’t
studied French. I couldn’t make that up in my head.”
Please believe me.
Without Marcus to talk to, I might really lose it.

“Okay, hang on. I gotta go to the bathroom.” She walked out
quickly, going to the hallway bathroom, not mine. I strained to hear if she called
anyone, but I didn’t hear her voice if she did. Maybe she texted. I think I saw
something online that you can text 911 now. Or she could be texting Dawn or
some other friend.

She came back and sat down on my bed. “But the voice is gone
now? Marcus is gone?”

“Yeah, he’s gone.” I needed her, so I basically needed to
trust her with all this. I needed to just keep talking. Keep breathing. I could
stay in shock. That sounded so much better than really thinking about… if he
was gone. Really gone.

Then I remembered the god awful trip. I’d been so flipped
out over Marcus I’d actually forgotten about that for a few minutes. I blew my
nose into a tissue and said, “But wait. There’s more. If all that wasn’t crazy
enough, Kyle tried to kiss me and Kris walked in.”

“Are you freaking serious? I
knew
it. I knew he was
after you, and just because you started dating someone new. He couldn’t handle
it.” She realized she was going on and shook her head. “So, I’m a little
confused. Kris saw Kyle try to kiss you, and then you ended up here all
hysterical?”

“She’s mad at me. And him, I hope. So Nash drove me
home—without talking—and then that’s when I realized I couldn’t hear Marcus
anymore.” I paused as I started shaking. I stopped short of asking her if she
thought I was crazy.

“What am I going to do?” I wiped my nose with the tissue and
ran my hand over my eyes in a way that would have embarrassed me before I
completely humiliated myself and lost Kristina and Nash.

Only then did I check her expression. She didn’t look ready
to bolt and call the police.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” she said, running a hand
through her hair. “We’ll have to figure something out…”

I felt a second of gratitude that she said we, but then I
tried to finish her sentence. “About my mental condition….or with Kris?”

“I’m not sure how she’s taking this. I mean, you and her
sailed over things when she went out with Kyle. You were the one that could
have been mad and you were gracious instead. She’s… she’s not like you.”

“She’s so sweet,” I said out of habit, and then added, “Oh,
yeah, she admitted to stealing Kyle, before we went to Bandon.”

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes while sighing. “I just don’t
know. Maybe you two can avoid each other until things calm down, and maybe
things will work out here.”

Here? The house. Why hadn’t I thought to worry about that
yet? Oh, because my life was falling apart. “Well, I can move out if it gets
too ugly.”

I listened to a car drive by, holding my breath until I knew
it wasn’t Kristina coming home. Jazz looked out my window, preoccupied.

“Ave, it wouldn’t work here if you moved out.” She looked at
me. “I mean, that’d be fine for you, but we’d have to find another room mate,
and it’s almost summer.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t work out too nice for Jazz, Dawn and
Kristina. “You said something about that,” I said just as the memory surfaced.
Jazz had been the one that came to talk to me, asking if I was sure about this
arrangement. I paid almost twice the rent of everyone else, but I got the
garage and the room with a bathroom. “Well, it’s not like Kristina can kick me
out.”

Our eyes met. Oh—I could kick Kristina out. Maybe. Not that
I would.

But we were thinking about the smaller problem. I rubbed my
face, eyes closed, when it all hit: I had wanted Marcus out of my head before.
Now I shook my head, laughing out loud through my stuffy nose.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. The house was quiet enough
for me to hear it. She checked the screen and looked at me, and I knew it was
Kristina.

“I’ll talk to her, okay? Try to smooth things out a little.”
She answered the phone as she walked out into the hallway. I didn’t want to
listen so I closed my door. I hadn’t noticed when I left, but it was messy:
clothes on the floor, shoes lying around, a bra left to dry hanging from my dresser
drawer knob. I’d turned into a guy. After shutting the door, I pulled my top
dresser drawer open, planning to take out the picture of my mom. But there were
all kinds of papers that I didn’t remember putting there. I pulled them out and
sucked in a breath. They were more drawings. Marcus had drawn a picture of me
with my mom. Not me as a little girl. But me now.

I fell down on my knees with all the papers. They slipped
into an array around me, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking around at them,
even as I wiped the tears off my face. There were different drawings of my mom
and I together, Marcus and I together, and more of just me. One was nude. Leave
it to Marcus.

Marcus had been busy, when I was asleep? When could he have
done these? Silent sobs shook me. I wanted so badly to look but couldn’t. I
couldn’t even breathe for a minute, and then I fell into bed and curled up,
pulling a pillow over my head.

***

 “Ave?”

It sounded like Jazz had been knocking a while. I called out
sounding like a dying frog, but she heard and came in. It was dark and,
thankfully, she left the light off, so just the hallway light shone in. Had I
left those drawings all over the place? I watched her shape sit in my computer
chair.

“The plot sickens.”

I pulled the pillow under my head to listen. “Hmm?”

“Kris is ballistic, and not just because of what happened. I
guess she asked Kyle if they could get a place together and he said no.”

“What? Why in hell would she want to live with him? Doesn’t
she get it?”

“She’s ignored his bad traits from the beginning.” Jazz
paused, but it sounded like she was on the verge of saying more. “You know, I
should have told you this sooner…”

“What?” I sat up in bed.

“We knew something was going on when you and Kyle broke up.
You were upset and wouldn’t say anything to her or me. I saw you come home to
the room one night, and… I told her something was really wrong. I should have
done something. I’ve regretted that ever since, especially since he’s around
with her all the time.”

Now I was doubly thankful for the darkness. “Oh.” I wasn’t
sure what more to say on that subject, so I moved on. “She’s mad at me about
all of this, and not him?”

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. I’m guessing she’s really
mad at him but doesn’t want to lose him. Listen, do you want to go get dinner?”
She stood up. “You need to eat. And get out of here. At least, it helps me
after a breakup to keep moving.”

A breakup? As well meaning as Jazz was, I couldn’t classify losing
Marcus as merely a breakup. Part of me was missing.

Maybe she meant Nash.

“No thanks. I just need to veg out tonight,” I said. She
didn’t want to leave me alone but I wouldn’t budge. Then, just as she stepped
out of my door, I yelled, “Wait! They’re not coming back here soon, are they?”

“Don’t think so. Kris and Kyle are fighting, but they were
at the beach house still.”

***

I waited until three a.m. to get up.
Everything felt oddly loud without Marcus, like a vast silence surrounded me,
and every tiny noise made me jump.

Feeling like I needed to do something—anything—about
Kristina, I texted her.

Kyle tried to kiss me. I pushed him away. End of story.
I’m sorry about all of it.

It worried me: if she could overlook this, what else would
she let him get away with?

I paced three steps back and forth, holding my phone, but
Kris didn’t reply. It was the middle of the night, after all.

There’s a quietness and stillness at this time of night that
always made me look at my life. It’s why I don’t like being up now. I didn’t
want to float along in life’s current anymore. I’d made my own decisions,
choosing a college and starting out on my own, but it didn’t feel like I’d made
the life I wanted. The road ahead of me was dark and hidden, and I wasn’t ready
to think about it yet.

I lit a candle and pulled out Marcus’s guitar. Sitting on
the bed, I tried strumming, hoping his song would flow through my fingers. It
didn’t sound anything like it. I remembered some chords and could make it sound
somewhat music-like, but it wasn’t Marcus playing. Strange that I had retained some
of his talent, but this was just a weak reflection of what he could do.

I hope the boldness I’d felt with him with me wasn’t fading
away too.  

My heart aching, I slid the guitar under the bed and picked
up his drawings again, flipping between the pictures of us. Turned out, Marcus
was too good to be true—hot
and
smart, funny
and
charming,
athletic
and
thoughtful.
He was also all male. He
didn’t apologize for who he was. But I got to see so many sides of him, how he
could be a stupid, horny guy and then a caring person, all in the same hour.  Now
these drawings were the only things I had left of him.

“Marcus? Where are you?”

I curled up in bed, and that was pretty much where I stayed
for the rest of spring break. Jazz ran interference, calling Kris and talking
to me. Some things I discussed with Jazz, but other things I couldn’t tell her
just yet. I knew, deep down, I would leave. I wanted to run as far and as fast
as I could from my life. It didn’t make sense. I had my friends and school
before Marcus showed up. Why couldn’t I just go back to that? But I needed
newness. I wanted the life I had pictured Marcus living: traveling, exploring,
learning. Living.

***

Kris never texted back. I heard Kristina come home that
Sunday. Other cars had stopped, but I was sure I heard Kyle’s, and then just a
hint of Kristina’s voice. A hushed conversation ensured between Jazz and
Kristina, and I think Dawn too.

Would Jazz tell them about Marcus? I mostly trusted her not
to, except that I might tell if I were in her shoes. Wouldn’t I? If I had a
friend in serious trouble—like hearing voices—I’d get help. I was asking a lot
of her not to tell anyone, and it made me sick.

Last year, we were all such a tight knit group, besties
forever, girls rule! Kris, Dawn, Jazz—they were my world.

In high school, it was all about hiding under the radar. Not
getting noticed. Keeping a low profile in whatever house I lived in. Everyone
acted like they wanted to help me, the poor girl without any parents, but
really they were either morbidly curious or looking for something for
themselves. I left all that behind to go to college. It was like winning the
lottery and getting to start a new life. I arrived in Ashland a different
person, ready to feel like I was a part of something.

Now…now it was all gone. I should care. I should run out to
talk to Kris and tell her Kyle was coming onto me. I should tell her how he
treated me back when we were dating. Deep down, we were still best friends, and
I owed it to her. She needed me, even if she didn’t want to talk to me. She
needed to know what kind of person Kyle was.

I climbed out of bed, feeling like I’d been mummified, and
went to my door. As I opened it, I caught sight of Kris walking quickly out of
her room and toward the front door, a stuffed bag slung over her shoulder, her
curly hair fluffed instead of forming tiny ringlets. She was more stressed than
I’d realized.

“Kris!” I walked down the hall, expecting her to wait. She
stepped outside and slammed the front door.