Driving Me Mad (30 page)

I chuckle. “No, I can’t.”

“It’s true. How have you been
doing, Trace? Are you enjoying your new position?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am. I really like
it, and I like living here so far. It was a good decision to
move.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The waiter stops by to take
our drink orders. Ray has been staring me down, and I won’t lie. I
want to fidget in my seat. Who cares if I have nearly a foot on him
height-wise. He’s the father of my girlfriend and he’s doing a damn
good job of intimidating me.

“Can you tell me why you’re
good for my daughter?” he asks as soon as the waiter leaves.

“Dad!” Brittany gasps.

He holds up a hand to stop
more of her protests. “Let’s just get it out of the way,” he tells
her before landing his gaze on me again. “We do like what we know
about you, Trace. We’re still cautious about some things, but only
because we’re thinking of our daughter. We know that we didn’t have
a clue about what was happening with Brittany, and at times, had a
difficult time understanding it, even now. Brittany told us that
you deal with some of the same things. Our main concern has been
how your bad times will affect our daughter and her mental health.
That’s all I want you to explain to me.”

The words to respond to him
seem to appear out of nowhere. “When your wife comes home after a
rough day, how much does that affect your relationship when you’ve
also had a rough day?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Maybe we’re a
little more fragile and complicated, but it’s basically the same
thing. Your worry is understandable, because I’ve worried about it
too. What I’ve come to realize is maybe we get carried away in the
heat of the moment, but I don’t make it worse for her and she
doesn’t make it worse for me. Having her there helps, even if we
can’t manage to help each other by doing more than just being
there.”

I feel Brittany’s hand on my
thigh. Her father nods, accepting my answer, and changes the
subject, asking me more general details about my life. Dinner is
smooth sailing after that. Brittany was right. I didn’t have
anything to worry about. Her parents seem eager to know me on a
personal level, especially since it wasn’t like that before. Then,
they only knew me as the man who helped their daughter tackle and
manage her anxiety. Now, I’m their daughter’s new boyfriend, and
they want to learn more about me.

Later, Brittany hugs her
parents, promises to see them tomorrow before they leave, and then
she turns to me. She’s grinning like she couldn’t be happier.

“Can I say it now?” she asks
as we walk to my car.

“Go ahead.”

“I told you so!”

“Yes, you did.”

Surprisingly, we’re both in a
good mood tonight. It’s been forever, it feels like. Brittany’s
energy is contagious. She leans up to kiss me before sliding into
the car. The good of the day starts to fade away, dimming so fast
it’s like it was never there. I refuse to let it take over so soon.
I need more good. I need more of this brightness, so when the
negative inevitably comes, I can have something good still on my
mind.

When we get home, Brittany is
still smiling. I manage to lift my lips, hoping it looks genuine.
She must buy it because she snakes her arms around me, which gives
me the perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her neck. Sex is a
good temporary distraction that will prolong the bad from crashing
down on me.

“Let’s go to bed,” I say,
lifting my head to look at her.

Am I imagining things or does
her smile falter just the tiniest bit? It doesn’t matter because
she nods and tugs on my shirt to start leading the way. Maybe she’s
telling the truth and I can’t hide it as well as I think. That
could be why I think I’m seeing things with her smile. But it
doesn’t matter tonight. She’s still giving me what I want right
now. I’m tempted to say what I need, but who the hell knows what I
need.

I take that back. I only know
of one thing I need.

Brittany.

And as she sheds her clothes
and helps me get rid of mine, she gives me all of herself as she
can when I could really use it. Damn, I’m lucky.

Sometimes when I get really
bad off, every little thing pisses me off. Cuss words fly from my
mouth like they are the only words that exist. My temper is quick
to react to the simplest things that wouldn’t normally be a big
deal. I’m irritable with all caps. These are the kinds of days when
I should come with a warning label.

This is how I am when I wake
up. I realize it when I’m annoyed simply because Brittany rolls
over, accidentally elbowing me in her sleep. I don’t want to be
angry with her all day. I don’t want her to have to deal with this
me. With a glance at the clock, I realize she should be getting up
anyway if she wants to have breakfast with her parents.

“Brittany,” I say as I poke
her shoulder. She stirs awake and blinks sleepily at me. Her hair
is all over the place, one strand thrown across her forehead. She’s
beautiful and I love her, and I’m a dick for what I’m going to do,
but I need to do it for myself, and for her. “You need to get ready
to see your parents.”

She takes a deep breath and
sits up to get out of bed. I chicken out of telling her now,
deciding it will be best to tell her later before she leaves. While
she showers, I get up to let Lily outside. The temperatures have
been better than they were as spring starts to emerge. I take deep
breaths of the outside air, but still find myself tapping my
fingers against my leg as Lily seems to take her sweet time.

My mind is only thinking
hurry up, hurry up, hurry up
! Eventually, she makes her way
back inside. I walk to the kitchen next to decide what I want for
breakfast. Nothing looks good, so I settle on toast slathered with
grape jelly. Brittany eyes me when she comes into the room to see
me munching on it.

“That’s what you’re eating
for breakfast? Do you want me to fix something before I go? Or you
could come with me,” she suggests, coming over to me and resting a
hand on my shoulder.

I shake my head. “I’m
fine.”

“Okay. Do you want me to
bring lunch back?”

I clear my throat and keep my
eyes on my toast. “No, and, um, maybe you should go to campus
instead of coming here.”

Brittany is quiet for a beat
too long. “Okay.” She leaves the room and a moment later, she has
her bags on her shoulders. “I’ll talk to you later,” she says from
the threshold of the room.

I look at her and nod. “Have
fun.”

She gives me a small smile,
and then she’s gone. Lily makes a small whining noise.

I lean down to rub her head.
“She’ll be back another day,” I reassure her.

For now, though, it’s good
that she’s not returning today. I finish off my toast and plop down
in my recliner. I have two things I need to do. Let Lily out when
she needs to go and sit in my recliner. That’s all I intend to do,
too. Or maybe I’ll sleep as well. The TV can’t seem to find a happy
medium with the volume. Lily can’t get still as she moves from each
end of the couch, my lap, to the floor, and repeat all over again.
I can’t get comfortable either. I can’t decide if I’m hot or cold,
snatching the cover on and off my lap. And it all pisses me off.
Why can’t just one damn thing go my way? Or be easy? Or simple? Or
good?

Why?

***

M
y thumbs hover
over the screen of my phone. What happened with Trace this morning
is still bothering me. I understand that sometimes we need time to
ourselves, but
how
he went about it is what unsettles me.
Wouldn’t it have been better had he looked at me and said, “Britt,
I just need to be alone today.” Instead, he refused to look at me
and suggested I not come back.

Right now, I’m debating
whether I should make sure he’s okay. I don’t want to check in on
him if he doesn’t want me to, but I don’t know where his head is at
because instead of
talking
to me, or giving me
something
to go on, he shut me out and told me not to come
back. So I’m not sure what I should do. I make an impulsive
decision. Not wanting to make things worse, I set my phone aside.
If Trace needs me, he knows how to get in contact with me. I should
trust that he will do that.

I should probably focus on
myself. I’ve never wanted to be at home with my parents more than
after they left me today. The dorm has never felt lonelier. Bec has
gone out somewhere, so it’s just me. I pull out my textbooks and
alternate between studying and working on homework. One and a half
months left. That’s it. I’m not sure if I can make it, though. It
seems like such a long time, even longer when adding how I
feel.

My anxiety hasn’t been too
bad today, but depression is making up for it. Everything seems
massively overwhelming and like so much work. It’s like everything
has been bundled together to build this gigantic wall that towers
over me in the most intimidating manner and my task is to climb
over it. To make it worse, it’s a flat, solid wall with no
footholds and zero materials are nearby to help me climb it.
Thinking about everything, big or small, simply stresses me out and
seems impossible.

What I want most is to lie in
Trace’s recliner with him. I don’t know why it’s so comforting, but
it is. What did I do before he moved here? What did I do to get
some relief? I frown when I realize that before, I texted or called
Trace. He’s always been the person I’ve leaned on. He’s always been
my source of comfort in some way. I’m at an utter loss as to what
to do since he seems to need distance.

Tired of my homework, I set
it aside, crawl under the sheets of my bed, and try to sleep. My
mind is oddly blank, but I’m grateful for it. I need a new thing to
calm me. I guess I can bring that up in therapy tomorrow. Maybe it
is a bad thing to depend too much on Trace. The thought saddens me.
I close my eyes, hoping that one action will help me sleep.