Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last (31 page)

Nick continued, “…and that you and his
brother… aaahh…broke up.”

“
Is that what Cal’s
calling it? A break-up?” I asked.

My intentions were beginning to warp
into finding out exactly who said what.

“
I don’t know, Wilson,
that’s what I heard. The guy just lost his dad.” Nick stood up, his
demeanor teetering on irritated.

Nick’s right. Max and
Calvin’s dad is gone. Death has knocked on the Goldsteins’ door and
they have their hands full with taking care of that business. What
was I thinking?

“
I’m gonna grab a couple
more cans of Coke, do you need anything?” Nick asked.

I didn’t say anything, just shook my
head.

“
I’ll be right back,” he
said as he passed the fridge and kept going.

I watched as he walked around the
corner. My eyes dragged back to his plate, still filled with
enchiladas. He hadn’t touched his dinner.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Max and
his family. I kept beating myself up for the mistakes I made—stupid
lies I told, fucked-up choices I stuck by. I drank the rest of my
Bacardi and Coke. The minute the empty glass clanged against the
granite countertop, I swore, my brain swirled in my head and I felt
the alcohol rush through my veins. The kitchen cabinets seemed to
pulse toward me and the lights swarmed in and out of my vision. My
eyelids became a bit heavier than a couple of minutes
ago.

I snatched the Bacardi Nick had left
on the counter and poured a shot into my glass, opened my mouth
wide, and tossed it back. Holy shit, dragon fumes scorched through
my nostrils. Flames burnt every last taste bud and nerve on the
back of my tongue and esophagus. I couldn’t stop from coughing as
my eyes experienced a flash flood of tears.

“
Haarrrccckk, woooh,
buuurrrnnnssss,” I sang to myself, dragging my arms across my wet
eyes. In some strange way the firestorm going down my esophagus and
churning in my stomach obliterated the pain of not being needed or
wanted. I knew I was a lightweight, but I didn’t expect to feel so
light-headed so quickly.

Nick walked back with two more
Cokes.

“
What are you doing,
Wilson?” Nick asked as I poured another shot of Bacardi in my
glass. I didn’t really care at this point who I was with or what I
was doing.

“
I’m becoming numb, jus’
where I think I should be,” I slurred before I chucked another
burning shot down and exhaled a throat-clearing, raspy
bellow.

“
Well, for someone who
hates Bacardi and Coke, maybe you should slow down or at least have
some Coke with your rum,” Nick joked.

I stood up from the island and felt my
legs go shaky under my body. Instantly my eyes twirled in my head,
and I could tell the drinks were catching up to me. Maybe it was a
mixture of my ruins and his rum, I don’t know, but I pushed my
fingers against my chest and started to go off.

“
Maybe you should know…why
I wanna get numb. Did you know Nancy gave up on me? And Camille
didn’t even frickin’ fight for me? Oh, and Calvin—can you believe
he stabbed me in the back? Right in the back—and
Max
, I gave him
everything
, everything I
was—
everything
I
had—I gave it right to him.
Here you
go…just take it…take it
,” I
spouted.

“
Wilson, maybe you should
slow down a bit,” Nick said, taking my glass.

“
Slow down! I did—I
tried
to do the right
thing…I left. When Calvin blurted out to his family that I was…that
I was…
Max’s student!
I left
. I never wanted anyone to
know I was Max’s teacher, I mean, that he was
my teacher!
But I knew that,
that family
was gonna
need time to deal with all the
trauma
of Frank’s death and didn’t
have the ability to deal with
us
,” I stuttered loudly.

“
Wilson, shhh, it’s over
now,” Nick said as he closed in against me. My bent arms pinned the
space between us; his arms wrapped tight around my back. I balled
my hands in fists and bounced them on his chest.

At first I didn’t accept him grabbing
me; I wanted to fight. I hated how I felt. I didn’t want to be
found out and I didn’t want to stay lost.

“
Who told you its over?
Who told you that?” I bellowed.

“
I’m telling you now.
What’s done is done, Wilson, the secret is out…it’s over;
right now
it’s over,”
Nick kept repeating.

The muscles across my neck and back,
down to my legs, tensed. I could feel the ache of wanting to give
up creep into my body and I fought to keep it away.

“
What the hell am I going
to do? Maybe I should just go back over there, bust through the
front door, and tell Nancy I’m not the ho she thinks I am.
Make
him
see I’m
better than any of those girls at Wesley. I am just as better as
them…just as bet—” I felt my body release and camber toward Nick.
The room began to spin and swirl into my chest.

“
Come on, Wilson, sit
down,” Nick cooed as he pushed me toward the chair. His hands slid
down across my hips to the back of my thighs. The heat of his hands
built a comfort and a memory of being with Max just the day
before.

“
Put your arms around my
neck,” he whispered.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and
I felt my feet leave the floor. I tightened against his chest and
felt my body drop onto the chair. I didn’t let go. I was still
spinning and I knew if I let go I’d probably fall over.

“
Hold on, Max,” I
mumbled.

“
I’m not Max…I’m Nick,” he
exhaled before he let go and left me sitting there. I dropped my
head to the counter and felt the coolness of the stone begin to
radiate the heat of my skin. I slid my hands across, allowing the
chill of the granite to take over my arms. Nick’s iPhone vibrated
silently against the countertop and my heart tumbled down into my
gut. I pushed my hand into my pocket and pulled out my own phone.
No calls, no texts. I slipped it back into my pocket and stared at
the iPhone dancing and jumping in front of me. I blinked, trying to
clear the vision of a couple of phones stacked jaggedly. It
vibrated again.
Someone’s really trying to
get ahold of him. What if it’s Calvin? Or Cindy? How bad would it
be if I just glanced at it? Just to see who texted him…

A long moment, wondering
what I should do, seemed to pass before I reached out and pulled
Nick’s iPhone down into my view. A cold chill flooded my skin. My
mouth rushed dry and my eyes barely opened, burned waterless from
trying to focus. I concentrated, trying to see who it was from, but
my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. Finally, I picked up the phone and held
it close to my face. It was from Calvin.
I
knew it. Maybe now I’ll get a straight answer. Now Nick can’t skate
the question when I show him Calvin called.

I jostled the phone in my hand and
stumbled off in the direction Nick went. I found him inside the
huge walk-in liquor room/storehouse. Just one of the many
outrageous things the Browlers had at their cabin. No joke, their
liquor storage room was the size of a master bedroom and it was
filled with any type of alcohol you’d ever want. Refrigerated units
for different types of beer, wine, and any other alcohol best
served chilled, lined the back wall. There were several rows of
floor to ceiling shelving that created actual aisles that you had
to walk up and down, just like in a real liquor store. On one side
there were all types of wines; on the other side, hard liquor and
mixtures.

I sidled around the corner of the hard
liquor shelving and found Nick standing toward the end. He was
staring straight ahead, and I noticed he was taking some deep
breaths. He was leaning forward with his hands clenched, white, to
the shelf in front of him. I heard him mumbling something under his
breath. He adjusted his weight back and forth.

“
What are you—why are you
standing in here?” I stammered in a loud attempted whisper as my
body swayed in waves. He jumped.

“
Ahh, shit, you scared
me,” Nick snapped. He looked nervous, almost uncomfortable. “I’m
just thinking maybe I shouldn’t have given you so much
rum.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have, because every
time I tried to focus, both Nicks were looking blurry to
me.

I adjusted his iPhone in
my hand and went over to him. I could tell as I got closer, and he
merged to being one Nick, he was still brooding over my earlier
approach.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t fair of
me to blurt out questions about Calvin and Max. But how else am I
going to find out about what’s happening at the Goldsteins’?
Nobody’s calling me, nobody’s coming to get me.
I was lost in a sea of miscommunication and I thought Nick
just might be the only person to throw me a lifeline.

He dropped his head, leaving me to
look at the top of his wavy, brown hair. He made sure to keep his
eyes focused on the floor, like he was trying to keep all his
secrets.

“
You got a couple of
messages,” I said as I held his phone out to him.

“
Thanks,” he mumbled
before he dragged his hands down the bottles on the shelf and
grabbed his phone. He glanced at the screen before he started to
put it in his pocket.

“
Don’t—they’re from
Calvin. Don’t leave me blind here. I’m sorry I hurt you. Please,
Nick, just tell me what he said. What if they’re about
Max?”

Nick looked at me before looking at
his phone. His eyes told a story of regret before he tapped the
screen and read the text messages from Calvin—out loud.

“
Thanks for letting me
know Wilson is okay,” Nick read slowly.

“
I’m
not
okay...”

“
Wilson, he’s responding
to my earlier text, when you passed out.”

“
Then what does the second
text say?”

Nick glanced at me before tapping and
sliding his finger to the second text from Calvin.

“
Burying…dad…tomorrow…memorial…after…more…details…later,” Nick
spoke each world slowly. His face dropped white. His finger was
still frozen above the phone as he looked up at me.

Suddenly I was sober. I felt the lines
in my face deepen and the muscles in my neck constrict. My heart
stuttered for the loss of not being a part of Max’s
family—something I wanted more than air. My eyes welled with tears
over thoughts of Max going on without me. My lungs crumpled under
the pressure and I lost my breath. From the crown of my head to the
soles of my feet, a crushing charge of freezing loneliness hammered
through my entire body.

Nick noticed how much the cluster of
words in Calvin’s text drowned me in a language of loss and
pain.

“
I’m sorry—I shouldn’t
have read it out loud,” Nick said as his eyes wandered back to mine
from the screen of his phone.

My body was vibrating, ready and
willing to collapse in the vacant hole reserved for moments like
this. I struggled to hold myself together and respond.

“
I—needed to hear—it. Now
I understand—the Goldstein’s don’t want me there. I get it,” I
struggled to form my words as tears streamed down my cheeks. It
felt like a huge meteor had blasted through my chest and every
ounce of my life splashed and poured out, dissolving before I had a
chance to mold it into something more than a misplaced moment. Max
had gone on without me…
I knew he would,
I’m not that stupid, but it still hurts.

Nick pushed closer to me. His arms
weighed heavy across my shoulders as he pulled me against his
chest. I felt his mouth push against the side of my
head.

“
You didn’t need to hear
it
that
way. I am
really sorry I upset you,” Nick whispered. The heat of his words
brushed delicately against the edges of my ear.

“
It’s
not—your—fault.
Nobody’s
texting me. Nobody is keeping me informed about
what’s going on over there. It’s like they’re ashamed of
me.”

“
Well, I don’t want to
cause you—any more pain,” he mumbled as he pulled away and the cold
reclaimed my body. With his hand in mine, Nick pulled me toward the
kitchen. He looked back, his dark brown eyes met mine, and
immediately I felt a longing pull, low in my stomach.

“
Wilson, I know you have a
lot to think about, and the last thing I’d want to do is make
anything worse for you,” Nick said.

He was right—I did have a lot to think
about, more than I really wanted to. But it wasn’t Nick’s fault Max
hadn’t come for me; that he’d decided to go on without
me.

“
Well, you haven’t made
anything worse. Actually, I really appreciate everything you’ve
done for me,” I said.

“
For you—I’d do it over
and over again, in a heartbeat,” he mumbled as he forced his hands
into his front pockets.