Melted & Shattered (21 page)

He started laughing. Chris and I looked at each other, unsure how to handle the situation. We had a silent conversation consisting of eye, neck, and shoulder movements that went something like this:

ME: Why’s he laughing? (brow lift)

CHRIS: Beats me. (shrug)

ME: Well do something. (
head nod, eyes on Aaron)

CHRIS: Me? It’s your gig! (wide eyes and head tilt)

ME: Dude. He’s still laughing. (neck tendons about to snap)

CHRIS: (shrug)

ME: Stop shrugging and do something! (eyes and neck tendons ready to explode from body)

CHRIS: Fine. (drooping shoulders)

“Aaron.” Chris snapped her fingers in his still giggling face. “Did you take some pills?”

“Maybe,” was his response.

“I got this, Chris.” I stood up from my end of the sectional and went to Aaron’s end. Leaning over him, I clapped my hands in front of his face a few times. “Aaron, pull it together. I’m leaving.” I nearly shouted it.

His chortle
s and smiles slowly melted like the Wicked Witch of the West when Dorothy threw the water on her. My announcement was the water, and I guess for this metaphor, Aaron was the witch. I watched his face, and saw the exact moment he realized what I was trying to tell him. His smile dropped. He pulled his head back, hand on his heart, and widened his eyes.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“Just for a few months,” I assured him.

“To Mexico?”

“Monterrey. To a university there.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” he asked, suddenly angry. Damn, those pills weren’t as strong as I would’ve liked.

I sat back down on my side of the couch, crossed my legs, elbows to my knees, and held my forehead in my hands. “Because my life is a mess.”

“It is not. You’re just getting back in the swing of things. You’re getting better. You came back to work. Why would you leave now?” Aaron asked, turning his body to face mine.

I groaned into my hands. “Chris, a little help here?”

Chris had been silent this whole time. I knew she was sad to see me go, but understood why I needed to
leave this place, a place laden with memories of a letter, and my failed attempts to forget said letter existed in the alphabet. We’d already had our long talk, spilled a few tears, and gotten past the initial shock. She supported my decision. Hell, she’s the one who peeled me off the bathroom floor at Dylan and Donte’s house. Aaron wasn’t quite as in the loop I realized.

“Can I give him the abbreviated version?” she asked me.

“Please do.”

She managed to sum it up quicker than I expected, starting with J’s first visit, then working her way through the Shemar Moore debacle
. She explained as much as she knew about the night with José, which we never dissected, but I’d given her the gist. Of course, she told Aaron how that story ended, with her walking in on me and J naked. I interjected J's request for me to wait for him—again. Finally, Chris rounded the story out with my pathetic sobbing and newly acquired fondness of the fetal position.

“I forgot Fernie,” Chris said when she’d told my whole story.

“Tell him when I’m gone about Fernie. Hearing you describe the last few months of my life out loud is all I can handle right now. That kinda sucked.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“I know,” I told her. “It was just harder to hear than I expected."

“Why didn’t you tel
l me all of this?” Aaron asked, his anger changing to concern.

“After what you just heard, knowing I lived that shit, you think I wanted to rehash details of all my fucking meltdowns? I may not have told Chris if she hadn’t been there for so much of it. I can’t do this anymore, Aaron. I
have
to get out of here. It’s like there isn’t a single place in this town that doesn’t remind me of him.”

“What am I going to do without you?” Aaron had tears shining in his eyes.
Concern had now changed to sadness.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. It’s only a few months. Plus, I can fly you out just like I offered to fly Chris.”

That stopped Aaron in his tracks. “How do you have money for
that
?”

Crap. “Uh, my bank account is in
the six digits.”

Aaron’s eyes got big. Huge. Like those Bratz Dolls I found mildly creepy. “Drugs?”
he asked.

I shook my head. I didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes g
ot bigger. Aaron’s sharp inhale let me know he’d just figured it out.

“J?” he
questioned. I nodded. “He hooked you up like that?” I nodded again. “And you’re not going to wait for him.” I shook my head at that one.

“You don’t get it. My heart has no choice but to wait for him, but that doesn’t mean I have to put my life on hold. I need to do this for ME,” I said laying
my hand across my chest. “I can’t continue to be Broken Elle or Damaged Elle. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I need to figure that out. If ole boy comes back, he comes back. And we’ll figure it out then. But for now, I gotta do me.”

“Where exactly did he go?” Aaron asked
. God, I forgot how much he really didn’t know. He was my second best friend, after Chris, though I’d never, ever tell him that. And despite the fact that he was gay and understood me better than the average man, he was still a man. Gay or not, there were things he just couldn’t comprehend the way a woman could.

“Chris?”
I pled with my eyes for her to explain J's whereabouts.

“This one’s on you, girl.”

“Fuckin' A. Thanks.” She was no help.

“Anytime.” She smiled. I gave her the finger.

“OK. Well.” Where did I start? And how much did I tell him? I laid my head in my hands and groaned. “This sucks.”

“Just spill it,” Aaron
instructed, growing impatient, his Dom voice starting to come out, giving me the heebs.

With my head still in my hands, I told him
J's plan.

Aaron was speechless. I kept my head down, not ready to look at him. Would he be mad I didn’t tell him all of this sooner? Would he be hurt I didn’t share that I’d been a mess as of late?
Would he forgive me?

“Go to Mexico.”

I looked up at his resolute face.

“What?” I asked him.

“Chica, that was one helluva story. Spanish soap opera worthy. I’m pissed you didn’t tell me all this shit sooner, but I get it. I mean, fuck, your life’s a mess.”

“Ya think?” I said, finally looking up from
my hands. It was a sarcastic remark, but it kept me from falling apart, which would be easy to do if I thought about all this shit for too long.

“So, when do you leave?”

I cringed, knowing this would piss him off for sure. “This weekend.”

“What? That’s only days away!”

“Yeah.” I drew the word out, so it was more like yeeeaaaaahhhhh.

“In her defense, she only made the decision to leave a few days ago,” Chris finally chimed in. “I’ve only known a few days myself.”

“How are we going to party it up if you’re leaving in days?”

“Aaron, did you not hear the story? Tiny’s, Shemar Moore, bathroom crying,
José, dirty dancing turned freak out leading to an extremely abrupt departure, and the couch sex with a begging J? I do not, repeat, DO NOT need to go out. I need to pack my shit, hug my friends, and get on a fucking plane.”

“Fine,” Aaron conceded. “
But don’t forget you’ve gotta tell Larry.” With that, both him and Chris burst out laughing.

“Oh shit! You gotta tell Iron Maiden. That’s hysterical! I want to be around for that!” Chris was holding her stomach
, barely able to breath amidst her cackles and snorts.

I groaned, head back in my hands. “A
w, shit. I forgot about Larry, and he’s not stuck in the fucking eighties. He stuck in the nineties, damnit.”

“Whatever,” Chris said while continuing to laugh.

“Do you know if he’s working tonight, Aaron?”

“I think so, but not closing.”

“Well, fuck it. Let’s do it tonight.”

“Right on!”
Chris yelled.

“Will this make it up to you?” I asked Aaron. “Getting to see Larry when I tell him?”

Aaron was back to giggling and could only muster a head nod.

I texted Larry and told him to come over
to Chris’ when he was done at work. Less than thirty minutes later he was at the door. There were no words to describe Larry’s reaction to my news. I’m pretty sure he wanted to cry, but was too manly to do so. So what did he do instead? What all men do; he got angry, because it’s easier for a man to be mad than sad. Anger is a mobilized emotion. Sadness tends to be the opposite, immobilizing. 

Chris, Aaron, and I sat there while Larry paced Chris’ living room. It wasn’t a large living room to start with, and the sectional and recliner took up the bulk of the space, leaving Larry only a few steps each way to pace. He asked the typical questions. Why are you going? Do you have to go so soon? When will you be back? Are you sure you’re coming back?
Is it safe? What if I get killed or kidnapped?

“Larry, stop being dramatic. I’ll be at the university. I’ll rent a room close to campus. Plus it’s the seco
nd largest city in Mexico.”

“What does size have to
do with anything?” Larry yelled, throwing his hands in the air

“A lot.”

“Shut it,” I told Aaron, giving him dagger eyes. Jokes were not helping the situation.

“Is this because of that guy?” Larry asked, voice not quite yelling anymore, but still on the harsh side.

“Yes, and no. Yes, he's part of it, but mostly it’s about me doing what I need to do for myself, and like I said, it’s one semester. I’ll be back by Christmas. No one is going to kill or kidnap me, Larry, though I do appreciate your concern. Now, sit down. Chris, pass him the bong. Larry, don’t stop puffing until you’ve calmed your ass down.”

The rest of the evening went as
well as could be expected. Larry got good and high, Aaron popped some more pills, offering some to Larry, for which I sent a silent thank you prayer up to the universe for, and Chris passed out in the recliner. I eventually made my exit, much to the dismay of Larry and Aaron. Larry had discovered Aaron was the Wikipedia of cars and they’d gotten into some deep discussions about transmissions and throttle. I told them to stay. We all knew Chris was down for the count and wouldn’t mind them hanging out.

I drove home exhausted, but glad to have that off my plate. Now I just had to tell the teens. I was
n’t as worried about them. I knew they’d miss me, but I was going to have them do some kind of project I could take Fernie. Maybe a scrapbook or something. Penny was always taking pictures. I emailed her and she said she would have the supplies ready. She wasn’t happy I was leaving, or that I told her via email, but she was happy for me. I could practically feel the glitter coming out of the screen on my phone when I read her reply.

I pulled up to my apartment and there was a black Yukon sitting out front. José? He was sitting on the step at my front door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He got up and stepped aside so I could unlock the door. I ushered him inside, tossing my purse on the couch and going to the kitchen for a glass of water. I didn’t get a chance to offer him one.

“You’re going to Monterrey?” He didn’t ease in. Nope. BAM.
I was taken back that:

One—he
already knew.

A
nd

Two—he
seemed so distressed.

But

Three—damn, did it sounded sexy when he rolled the R’s in the city’s name, Monterrey.
Bad, Elle. DO NOT go there.

“Uh, yeah. Larry
tell you?” I guessed.

“He texted me when he was over at your friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you guys were bosom buddies like that, and damn, I just told Larry two hours ago.”

“We exchanged numbers when you were in the hospital. He made everyone there give him their number so he could get updates on you.”

“Figures. You want a glass of water or something?” I hoped he said no because I was tired and had shit to do tomorrow.

“No.” I did a mental fist pump. “But you shouldn’t go to Monterrey.” What. The. Fuck. I did a mental gun to the head. I got why Larry didn’t want me to go. Aaron was against it at first, but
understood after I told him my whole sad story. What was José’s reason? I laid my glasses on the counter and rubbed my eyes.

“And why shouldn’t I go?”

“Because it’s dangerous.”

I gave him the same speech I gave Larry. It didn’t work as well on him though.

“Elle, there’s stuff going on over there you don’t know about. It’s not safe.”

“There’s stuff here I don’t know about, but you don’t see any drive-by’s
happening on my apartment do you? You’re the last person I thought would be anti-Mexico.”