The Opposite of Nothing (13 page)

“You seen Mom yet?”

“Nope.”

“Do you plan to?”

“Are we going to sit here and stroll down Bad Memory Lane, or are we going to eat?”

The neon ‘open’ sign in the front window of the motel’s attached diner—Moonlight Fries—glowed blue and pink, a beacon guiding them toward greasy potatoes and sloppy burgers. They settled into a booth. A perky waitress in a mustard-yellow uniform took their orders and dropped off two glasses of ice water. He didn’t recognize her and for some reason that made him feel better.

“So I figure some pretty bad shit had to go down between you and your girl to get you sitting here with me right now.”

“I don’t want to talk about that. I’d rather know why you left and never looked back.”

“I looked back every damn day, but I couldn’t go back. You had a chance without me. You were so smart, but you followed me around like a puppy. Anything I did, you were right there doing it too.”

“What’s wrong with that? You’re my brother. You took care of me.”

“Oh, grow up. I shouldn’t have been taking care of you, doing Mom’s job. I thought maybe if she didn’t have me to fall back on she’d actually do it. Did she?”

“You have to know that she didn’t.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, nape to crown, the same way Tayber did when he was overwhelmed. It was strange seeing so much of himself in his brother when they’d been separated for so long.

“She got you here.”

Tayber knew he meant to Copeland, not to this crummy diner. The crummy diner was more her speed.

“All me. I had to forge her signature on my applications. A few months ago, she pinched off the last trickle of financial support. I hope you’re paying for dinner.”

Aaron grunted. “Yeah, I got this.”

“It’s like, she wanted me to go to college in theory, but she didn’t understand her role in the process. She was fine with picking out my sheets, but orientation weekend? I drove myself.”

“Did you tell her you wanted her to go with you?” Aaron stacked coffee creamers into a pyramid.

“No. She should have known.”

“How? It’s not like she went to college. Besides, did you really want her there?”

He couldn’t picture his mother making small talk with professors or imagine the kinds of questions she might have asked. The only meaningful question she’d asked him was how much it was going to cost her. “I guess I was kind of relieved she didn’t come. I haven’t been back home more than a few times since.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it? Realizing that what you want and what you need don’t always line up.”

“I can feel the old neighborhood pulling me. I’m still too close here. I know it’s only forty-five minutes if I don’t hit any red lights. I just want to finish this degree and get a job and start my fucking life. As far away from Dirty Denham as I can get.”

“What do you think I wanted, Tayber?”

“So I was right all along. You did leave because of me.” The words were like gravel in his throat, but he had to finally get them out.

“No. I left because of me. It was all I could do to take care of myself. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but you gotta understand. I was a kid too. I kept looking for somewhere better, somewhere easier, and next thing I know it’s eight years later and there still aren’t any picket fences.”

Fuck, I’m not much older than he was when he left.
He did need to grow up. “How far did you get?”

Aaron looked down at his burger, and then pushed the plate toward him. “Far enough to know that ‘far enough’ isn’t on any map.”

Tayber slumped, the truth about the impossibility of escape dragging him down. “You got two beds in your hotel room?”

“Honeymoon over already?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Actually, it was exactly like that. He shifted, remembering how much
like that
it was. God damn her.

“She seemed pretty concerned about your wellbeing. That’s more than some guys get.” He reached around to rub his own shoulder, reminding Tayber of Callie’s small fists pounding into Aaron’s broad back.

“She wasn’t honest.”

“Who the fuck is honest? We’re all just doing what we can to get by. She cheat on you or something?”

She hadn’t cheated on him. There hadn’t been a chance for that. But she had cheated. She’d cheated them out of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was. He couldn’t tell Aaron what she’d done, his pride wouldn’t let him.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t stay there anymore.”

“You can sleep in the tub. I only have one bed and I’m not giving it up, even if you are heartbroken.”

“I am not heartbroken. I’m pissed.”

“Sometimes that feels pretty much the same.”

Tayber flicked a sugar packet at Aaron’s creamer tower. They all fell down.

* * *

A
aron’s hotel room was a lot like the dorms, frigid and spartan, only more depressing. Tayber tossed his bag on the desk chair. “Home sweet home.”

“Not for long. I’ll rent an apartment eventually.” His keys clattered on the nightstand.

“Here?”

“It’s as good a place as any. And you’re here.”

“For now. I’ll graduate.”

“I’m not buying a house. Can’t we just try being a family again, for a little while? Give me a chance?”

“Let me have the bed and I’ll think about it.”

“Fuck that. I’m too old for sleeping in bathtubs. Besides, you’re already thinking about it. I can tell. You’ve got that look you used to get when you wanted half my sandwich.” Aaron stripped the comforter off the double bed and tossed it to him, followed by a pillow.

The bathroom was small, but at least it was clean. The scent of bleach tickled his nose and he fought back a sneeze. He’d slept worse places, a sketchy futon in a frat house game room, the backseat of his car. He considered bringing his boxes inside. He could put them in the tub and then he could sleep in the car.
Too much work.
At least they’d gotten his shit back without incident.

He made a nest in the tub and stripped down to his shorts, leaving his clothes in a pile on the counter. Curled up with his foot jammed under the faucet, the air conditioner humming, he couldn’t settle.

“Tell me where you went, Air? Please.” And just like that, he was ten again, begging to tag along with the big kids. A knot the size of a fist settled in his throat. Only the truth could dislodge it. He was certain.

“I enlisted. I married Kelsey. Neither lasted as long as I thought they would.”

At least now Tayber knew. It was what he’d wanted for so long. To know. Only now he didn’t want to walk away.

At least now he knew about Callie, too. And Sasha.

“Air?”

“Tay.”

They were like the fucking Waltons calling to each other through the bathroom door. “She lied to me. A lot.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

“People lie for a lot of reasons. Because they want things they aren’t supposed to have. Because they’re afraid of the consequences. Because they don’t want to hurt or be hurt. Any of that ring true?”

All of it.
Huddled in the tub, with the faucet dripping on his big toe, he realized he hadn’t been exactly honest with Callie either. He’d hidden from his feelings because he’d thought he wasn’t supposed to have her, that he wasn’t good enough to have her.
Bullshit.
He’d never told her about the relationship he’d been having online. He hadn’t wanted her to judge him. More bullshit. Lies of omission.

And he’d lied right to her face, when he told her that all he wanted when he fucked someone was nothing. He’d lied to himself too.

He still had so many questions, big ones, like had she been lying to him as Sasha too? Was all of it fake? He didn’t think so, but he needed to know. Deserved to know.

If he could push his anger aside and give Aaron a chance to explain, he could do that for Callie too. He loved her. He couldn’t turn that off any more than he could cut off the stupid leaky faucet.

* * *

T
wo days felt like a month. Tayber’s things had vanished, as promised, and Callie’s tiny apartment felt enormous. She rattled around aimlessly, leaving a trail of empty soda cans and cookie crumbs behind her. She’d done something stupid. Destroyed something special. Now she couldn’t focus on anything at all.

She tried to work on a paper, but it was pointless. She set her laptop on the floor beside her bed and pressed her face into the pillow that still smelled faintly like him. Eventually that would fade too, along with this ache.

Blip
. She ignored it. It couldn’t be anyone she wanted to talk to, any email she wanted to read.

Blip. Blip. Blip.

Fine.
She grabbed the infernal device, determined to shut it up. And then her head swam. What the hell was he doing IMing Sasha?

Tay: Hey

Tay: Are you there?

Tay: I want to meet you.

Shitshitshit.
She got up and paced a tiny circle at the foot of her bed.
I need a cookie.
Half an Oreo sat lonely and forgotten on her nightstand with all the cream licked out.
That’ll do
. She popped the whole thing in her mouth and, fortified, sat down to respond.
Blip.

Tay: I think I deserve an answer.

Sasha: I’m here, and you know where I live. You still have a key.

Tay: Not Callie. Sasha.

Sasha: She isn’t real.

Tay: Isn’t she? She seemed real enough the last time I talked to her.

Yes. She was real enough. And the fact that he seemed to think so swelled something inside her, something fragile and terrible and a lot like hope.

Sasha: I’ll be at Spring Fest tomorrow doing a spot for Random Nonsense from one to two. You can meet ME after.

Which me did she mean? Could she
be
Sasha for him? Was Sasha what he really wanted?

* * *

“C
J Evans here, one half of Random Nonsense. You might have heard me and JC on the air, if any of you listen to the campus radio station on Friday nights.”

The smattering of applause was reassuring. The more she talked, the less she worried that someone was going to pelt her with rotten produce.

“Now, here’s a little digital Vitamin C to go with all the Vitamin D you’re soaking up.”

Fifty sun-starved co-eds writhed on the quad, bouncing in time to pop songs that Jessa would’ve ground her teeth over if she’d tried to play them on their show. The WCCC booth at Spring Fest wasn’t really an on-location broadcast. They didn’t have the equipment for that. Today they were glorified party DJs, and tonight their regular spot would be nothing but dead air. Unless Callie skipped the parties and did the show herself. Maybe she would do it herself. It wasn’t like she
wanted
to party. Not now. She probably wouldn’t want to do anything after she talked to Tayber. Her belly flipped.

“Why aren’t you gloating?” Jessa leaned close and shouted.

“Gloating is mean?”

“You should be grinning like mad. These are your jams aren’t they?”

“Not today.” She didn’t want to tell Jessa what she’d done, what had happened with Tayber. And if she did, she certainly wouldn’t tell her here, in the middle of all these people, shouting over the music.

Her head pounded in time to the bass. She leaned under the table to dig in her purse for some Tylenol.

“We’re not taking requests.” She heard Jessa yell and popped up to see if she needed to diffuse the situation. Doe eyes. Black bob. Danger.

“I know you.” Meg shouted, smiling. “Callie? Tayber’s girlfriend?”

The song dropped off into silence at the most inopportune moment, and Jessa punched her in the arm while Meg’s words socked her in the gut. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not Tayber’s girlfriend.” She wanted to be, but she’d screwed everything up. Her already flipping belly turned somersaults, churning into acrobatic twirls up her esophagus. They could destroy her right now. Maybe not Jessa, but Meg? Meg could shred her in front of all these people. Sure, they’d clapped and bounced to her set list. But they didn’t give a shit. And who didn’t love a crucifixion? She could picture them all turning to watch as Meg pointed and laughed about how silly Callie was to think she could ever have a boyfriend. Have
Tayber
for a boyfriend.
Get a grip.

She flexed her fingers, willing the blood flushing her face to dribble back down to her extremities. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She hadn’t been that girl for a long time, but old wounds cut deep.

“Well, he seemed to think you were when I talked to him the other night. But he wasn’t very convincing. Maybe he used you as an excuse not to hook up with me?”

Her worst fear. She didn’t care if he used Sasha. Hell, Sasha had used him. The thought of Tayber using her, the real her, made her want to vomit. When she noticed Tayber standing behind Meg, she nearly did.

“I didn’t use Callie.” He ground the word
use
into dust. The bitter edge, a reminder of how used she’d made him feel. But, God. He didn’t use her. He didn’t. She knew that deep down in her toes, under all the doubt and fear and worry. He’d never used her. She felt awful. He hated her, and he was still defending her.

“Oh, hey, Tayber. Fancy seeing you here. I just meant it was all very kinda sorta wishy-washy. You were there, you know. You two need to firm things up.” She squeezed Tayber’s biceps and darted back into the crowd of dancers. If she’d left her fingers on his body any longer than that second, Callie might not have been able to resist the urge to peel them off, one by one.

“You’re early. I’m not done until two.”

“I didn’t want to miss the transformation.”

Like she was an ugly caterpillar ready to bust out of its cocoon? What did he think was going to happen? She’d flip a switch and suddenly be sex-bomb Sasha? Why couldn’t he see that she already was Sasha every minute of every day?

Jessa narrowed her eyes, glaring at the both of them. “I don’t know what’s going on here, and I don’t think I want to know. I don’t think the rest of this crowd wants to know, either. Okay, maybe they do. But they don’t need to. I’m going to play the last few songs in our set and you’re going to take this dramarama elsewhere.”