The Arrangement Anthology (56 page)

Peter sits in the empty stool next to me. He opens his mouth a few times, laughs, and shakes his head. “I don’t know how to say this, but I have to say it. Sean is an asshole—”

Mel smirks, “That’s an understatement.”

“So, you’ve met him too, then.
” Peter offers her a crooked smile and speaks to both of us. “Then you know how hard he is, how completely stoic and heartless he is?”

Mel nods. “You’re preaching to the choir, baby.”

Peter waits a beat and then asks me, “But when he’s around you, something changes. I saw it at dinner the other night and it floored me. You changed him.”

I nod and take the little shot glass in my head. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do, and I have to ask why you let him walk away? It’s none of my business—I know that—but you guys seemed happy together.”

“I was his call girl, Peter. I didn’t mean anything to him.”

Peter smiles at me. It’s just like Sean’s, but less jaded, more hopeful. “You’re wrong. You meant everything to him, but the guy has too much pride. He won’t come back for you. You should go after him.”

Mel laughs, like it’s completely absurd. “Okay, crazy-man. And what makes you think that she’s going to listen to you? How’d you even find her?
Cuz I got my man Gabe over there and he’ll come bust up your ass if you’re stalking Avery—”

“
Gabe’s the one who told me she was here.”

“Well, fuck. Does that man owe everyone a favor?” Mel pouts and looks into
her empty shot glass. She taps the counter and orders another.

Peter glances at her and then back at me. “I’m not following you, I just had no way to contact you and I thought you’d want to know. I mean, if a woman was that bent out of shape over losing me, I hope someone would tell me. Especially if I thought she didn’t care about me that much. Avery, whatever reason he gave you for leaving was weak. He regrets it, but I know he won’t come back. He’s too damn stubborn. It’s not like Sean to admit when he’s wrong, and he knows he screwed up with you.”

I blink at Peter. Every thought in my head is saying he’s lying, that there’s no way Sean actually misses me. He would have called, he would have come back, he wouldn’t have left if he actually wanted me. Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. He’s wrong. I can’t believe it. I laugh, but it sounds so bitter. “How could you possible know that?”

“Sunday
’s lunch was beyond weird. Sean and Sidney have been fighting non-stop since we’ve seen you. She basically told Sean he was an asshole and didn’t deserve you. He said he knows that. It was the first thing they agreed on since they met. Sean thinks he screwed up so badly that there’s no way to fix it, but there’s always a way to fix it.”

“No, not this.” I twist the little cup between my fingers and stare at the amber liquid on the bar. “There’s no way to repair this.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize you were the weak link in the relationship. My mistake. I naturally assumed it was Sean. Sorry to bother you.” Peter gives me a look that says he thinks I’m a flake and turns away.

My spine straightens as offense hits me right between the eyes like a goddamn brick. “Hey!” I call after him, but Peter doesn’t stop. I slip off the stool, take two steps, and grab his elbow. “I’m talking to you,
Granz.” Peter rounds on me with an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. I thought you were the woman who was in love with my deranged brother. The older one. You’re a bit too old for Jonathan.”

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’m not some little tramp that was following Sean around Long Island, because I had nothing better to do. I do love him! I still love him, but he doesn’t want me. Why the hell would I chase after a guy who walked out on me?”

“Because he loves you and he’s too damn proud to come back here after walking away. Because one of you has to be the grown-up here and get over yourself. Life’s too short to live this way.
” Peter runs his hand over his hair. “Listen, in twenty years, when you look back, you’ll know damn well that you could have gone after him, but you didn’t. A lot of relationships end this way, but it didn’t have to be yours. It takes two idiots to do this much damage. Just sayin’.”

Can you say verbal
bitchslap? Holy shit, is this the same shy guy that sat at the dinner table the other night. I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know a damn thing about me. I’m bristling as he speaks, ready to assault him with a slew of sentences meant to cut his balls off, but Peter smiles and walks away before I open my mouth.

He calls back over his shoulder. “Don’t be such a pussy, Avery. God knows you have balls if you can put up with Sean.”

My mouth is hanging open. I’m not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. Mel is trying hard not to make a sound next to me. Her lips are caught between her teeth as she tries not to smile.

I glare at her. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just the best hooker in New York City, and apparently she has legendary brass balls.” Mel’s lips are twisted into a half grin. She looks ridiculous.

“He ruined my night.”

“Uh-huh.” Mel says, knocking back another shot.

“I don’t need Sean.”

“You don’t.”

My fingers clench into fists at my sides. I want to throw something. “Why’d he have to do that? Why’d his fucking brother have to show up and say that to me? Sean left me. We agreed to part ways. We don’t want the same things.”

“Nope, you don’t.”

“I’m better off without him.”

Mel laughs and nods in agreement. “You are. You don’t know him. He’s a dick.”

“Totally, he is. I don’t need him at all. I don’t…”

Mel slips off the stool and walks over next to me. She bumps into my shoulder, as she glances after Peter with me. “You think Mr. Twisted knows his brother told you all that shit?”

“No, Sean would hate that.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

I turn to her and press my fingers to my heart, laughing lightly. “What,
are you serious? You think I should go after Sean? Are you crazy? I don’t want to be his mistress. Why would I go after him?” I stare at Mel like she’s lost her mind.

A cat-like smile crosses her face. I swear to God
, feathers are poking out of her lips when she says it, because she knows my reaction is going to be so incredibly bad. With her arms folded over her chest, tapping her glittery black nails, she says, “To ask him to marry you.”

I laugh. It’s not real mirth—I’m so far from happy that I can’t even describe the chronic meltdown that’s occurring inside my mind. Take a polar ice cap and stick it in the microwave with some tin foil wrapped around it. That’s what’s going on inside my head. It’s not just brains melting out of my ears that renders me speechless, it’s the arcing—the frying of brain tissue—that actually prevents me from speaking. My eyes are dinner plates as my jaw shifts between tense and slack. I open it a few times while Mel knocks back her last drink and pays.

I swear to God, if I don’t say something soon I’m going to lose my mind. The words that come out are a
hodgepodge of sentences that are strung together rather incoherently. “That’s a misconceived…so idiotic…array of insanity...” I press my lips together as my hands float up like I’m going to strangle something about waist-high. My hands tense, fingers flexing over and over again like I’m mental.

“Oh shit. I broke her.” Mel laughs once and shakes her head at me. When I try to speak again and can’t, she gives me a look. “I can’t wait around for this shit, and I’m sure as hell not hanging out with you no more if you’re going to be talking all fucked up like that. You sound like one of them people wandering around South Oaks.” I scrunch up my face and glare at her
– I’m not a mental patient. “Fine, be like that, but since our evening of fine conversation is obviously over, I’m heading home.”

The car ride back to the dorm is quiet. The same
thought goes through my mind over and over again.
I can’t ask Sean to marry me. I can’t.
I’m pretty sure that I haven’t blinked for a while because my eyes sting.

Damn Peter, had to show up and say those things. It’s not like things are easy for me. It’s not like I can just stop school and skip work and go find Sean and propose. I can see the look on his face—that placid smile
. He’d think I was joking and I couldn’t stand that.

At the same time that thought bounces around in my head, another counters it. It’s
Peter’s voice, saying that I’ll regret it in twenty years—that I could fix this, if I tried.

Is that really what happened here? I didn’t try hard enough? That’s total shit. I did try. I never tried so hard to be with anyone in my life, and after everything that happened, it didn’t matter because we aren’t together anyway.

Sean needs randoms, a different woman to fuck every night. He doesn’t need me.

Mel finally gets me talking by mentioning work. “I heard Black has a new dude picked out for you. The word from the herd is that he’s a cowboy, decked out in all that Western shit. I bet he tries to ride you like a horse.”

I smirk and glance at her out of the corner of my eye. “That would be a good night for me. Haven’t you noticed? All my clients are insane? I’m starting to think Black is doing it on purpose. If this guy tries to brand me, I’ll cut his balls off. Then Gabe can shove me in the trunk and drop me in the East River with cement shoes.”

Mel snorts as
she trudges up the stairs. “Gabe isn’t the kind of guy that takes the time to make cement shoes. He does it with a bat and pushes you off a balcony. I bet you he covers his ass pretty good. No one can tell your brains were turned to pancake batter after they get scrambled on the sidewalk. Oh man, I’d kill for a Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity Stack right now.”

“Nice segue. Disturbing and delicious.”

She laughs as we stop in front of my door. I reach for the knob and flick my eyes up to hers. “Why’d you say it?” She had to know what it would do to me—how suggesting that I propose to Sean would commandeer every other thought in my head.

“Because you should. Play the whole game
‘til the end. No regrets are at the end of that and you could use some steady right now. You second guess yourself too much. You have no idea how fucked up your life has gotten and that nutjob is the only guy that’s turned your head, like ever.

“
The question is, what kind of woman are you? Are you the kind to wait for some sappy guy to get down on his knee and ask for your hand in marriage? Because I don’t think you are. I think you’d tell that guy no. I think you need the headcase as much as he needs you. You’re both too stupid to admit it. Okay, I’m done playing Dr. Phil. My feet are killing me.” Mel leans in suddenly and bangs her fist on the door. She shouts, “Get your sorry ass out of there right now, you pasty pastry or I’ll bust your—”

The door flies open
and Naked Guy gives me a sheepish look. He managed to pull his jeans on. A pair of boxers and a shirt dangle from his hand. He avoids Mel’s gaze entirely and darts down the hall.

“You better run!” Mel yells after him. Then she looks at me and smiles. “Rodent removal complete. Unless you want me to throw your roommate out on her ass too?”

“I can hear you!” Amber shouts from inside the room.

“I don’t give a shit,
slutbag!” Mel’s gaze narrows on the door, which I’m holding in my hand, half-opened, half-closed.

“Thanks Mel. I’m fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

But I don’t see her on Thursday or Friday. I avoid Mel and Marty. I can’t think and I have to figure this out on my own. The way I left things with Sean was good, well, it sucked but we were still on speaking terms. If I try to find him and propose, I risk messing that up and I don’t know if I can bear it when he says no.

I fall asleep that night after tossing and turning way too long. Dreams come and
are filled with storms and seawater that fills my lungs. Waves pummel me, but no one saves me. I drown and drift under the waves, with my lifeless body, into blackness.

Saturday night comes and Mel knocks on my door while I’m getting ready for my new client—the cowboy. God, I hope he’s not crazy. I’ve had enough mentally unstable men to last a lifetime. When I signed the contract, Miss Black was updating her files so I didn’t see his picture, but I don’t care. This doesn’t matter. It’s a means to an end. One more client, one more night of letting someone I don’t care about use my body.

The weird thing is, since I saw Peter, I feel numb all over. I don’t care about tonight or the guy. It’s like someone dropped my sucky life into a vat of gel. Everything
congealed and slowed.

The past few days feel like years.
I’ve spent every free moment at my parent’s grave, talking to a headstone. I wish my mother was here. I wish I could ask her what to do. Did she have to chase Daddy? Did they break up and get back together again? Is Peter right? I don’t know and no matter how long I sit there, picking at the dead lawn and talking to her, there is no clarity.

Maybe I am a coward.