Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last (33 page)

Everything from the moment I got on
the plane to Aspen twisted and knotted in my gut. Thoughts of every
experience that carried any significance flooded my mind. The
excitement of my birthday, the fear of the helicopter ride, Frank’s
death, Max making love to me, and my abandoning him when he needed
me most. I’d betrayed Max by making out with Nick, and now Cindy
had walked in on me kissing her brother.

How was I ever going to face Max
again? How was I going to go back to Wesley and sit in his class
after this fiasco? He would never forgive me. I felt every muscle
in my body give up as I sobbed into the pillow.

If Nick knocked on my door or tried to
talk to me, I wouldn’t have known. I hit the bed that night, crying
into my pillow, and everything after that was a blur. I didn’t wake
up magically in my pajamas or tucked under the covers; I woke up in
my clothes, spread across the bed, on my stomach. My head felt like
it had been smashed with a thousand bricks, and my hair was so
grungy I could only guess what the dried-up stuff was, causing all
those natty clumps.

The room swirled as I dragged myself
to the edge of the bed. I sat up, rocking, as I drowned in a cold
sweat and struggled with a wicked case of dry mouth. All I wanted
to do was to wait for my best friend to come and save me. I needed
to forget about kissing Nick, and Cindy walking in on
us.

God, how far would Nick and I have
gone if Cindy hadn’t interrupted us? Would I have kept going, just
so I could feel something other than the damage of losing Max?
Maybe if Nick didn’t have the aroma of Aspen in the fibers of his
shirt, I could have walked away. I needed Joanie to peel me up off
the floor and protect me from the colossal damage that was
steamrolling through my head.

There was a slight knock at the door
before I heard the lock click and it slowly swung open. The minute
my eyes met Joanie’s it was as if, finally, I didn’t have to hold
it together anymore. I let go of all the pain I had pressed down
deep within my gut. My eyes swelled with tears, my ears filled with
the pressure of trying to keep from crying, and my head pounded
from inside out.

“
Oh babe, I’m so sorry,”
Joanie crooned as she dropped her bag and rushed over with her arms
open to hold me.

“
Jaayyy—” I cried. I
couldn’t push any other words out. They clogged my windpipe and
intruded the spinning space in my head.

“
I’m here now,” Joanie
sang as she wrapped her arms around me. Her warmth spurred the
inability to breathe. Hyperventilating, I couldn’t get enough
oxygen. I felt stifled by her body, tight against my skin; but I
needed her so badly, I couldn’t let go of her.

“
Shhh...sweetheart, it’s
going to be okay. I’ll get you through this, honey. I promise you,
it will get better.” Joanie rubbed her warm hand in big circles
across my back—a comfort rightly reserved for my mother or my
grandma; but their vacancies created a responsibility thrust upon
the only person I had left, and that was Joanie.

I let go of her and lay face down on
the bed, sobbing. This was the same bed where Max spooned with me
the first night we kissed; the place where we explored and mapped
new discoveries with each bump and curve of our bodies.

But today, I haven’t felt my
butterflies move at all; it was as if they’d busted out of my chest
and dissolved into the blistering cold air that shredded their
wings.

My body jerked as the howls of my loss
filled the room. My pillow was drenched beyond any comfort. I was a
mess, and there was nothing anyone could say that would change my
future. I felt Joanie’s hand swirl from my back to my hair.
Delicately, she worked to tangle her fingers into the damp strands
that clung to the sides of my face. I could feel the sting of pins
and needles on my scalp as she pulled her hands out of my hair. I
wanted her to save me, find a way to make the pain of being ripped
in half and abandoned go away.

“
Soooo sorry, honey; damn
it, I wish I could take it away,” Joanie whispered as she lay next
to me and pressed the side of her face against the bed so I could
look at her. Her usual life-filled eyes were bloodshot and swollen,
a slighter version of mine.

“
It—hurts—so—bad—J,” I
choked as I struggled to pull out the only words I could formulate.
I dragged my knees up under my body. Maybe if I curled into a ball
I would be able to stop the memories of his face as I walked away
from him.

Joanie pressed her scalding hot hand
to my cheek as she looked at me. Her love spoke to me silent words
of courage. I felt my eyes become heavy and my mind churn into
broken visions of her being with me when I lost my grandma and
grandpa. My rock had arrived, and now I felt safe enough to close
my eyes and cling to the security she created for me.

“
That’s it, Wilson. Let it
go, sweetheart,” Joanie said. Her voice was so sweet and soothing.
I pushed my legs out from under me and drove my arms around her,
clinging to her as she hugged me back. We lay wrapped in each
other’s arms, the comfort of sisters reserved for best
friends.

My hands ached from clutching the back
of her shirt; my arm was numb from her laying on it. I couldn’t
believe she’d gotten to me so fast. Her sweet scent of familiarity
comforted me and her rhythmic breathing settled my soul. I felt her
chin press on the top of my head, and how, every time she exhaled,
it tickled and vibrated through the loose strands of my hair. I
felt my eyelashes catch the fabric of her shirt, and my tears
dissolve into her skin. My ear pressed against the bed, deaf. I
felt her lopsided, comforting hum vibrate through my bones. Now
that Joanie was with me, I was safe.

“
Joanie, I left
him—standing in his window while I drove away. What did I do? What
did I—” I felt the swell of what I did to Max clog my
throat.

“
Wilson, you did nothing
wrong. Do you hear me? Nothing,” she argued as she grabbed my head
and pulled me away to look her in the eyes.

I pushed my head through her hands and
back against her collarbone, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to hear
anything; I wanted her to comfort me while I cried. I wanted to
feel the safety of my best friend, the only family I had
left.

“
I love him so much, why
hasn’t he called me? Why hasn’t he come to get me?” My cry was
muffled against her shirt.

“
He’s hurting, Sis; he’s
just lost his dad, and his brother betrayed him. Right now, Max
thinks he’s lost
you
because of what you overheard Nancy say,” Joanie said,
comforting me.

“
I left to give him space
to grieve with his family,” I cried.

“
You’re both hurting, give
it some time,” Joanie said.

Suddenly, Joanie’s words tumbled and
stuck in my head.

“
Wait—how do you know
about Calvin and Nancy? I didn’t tell you,” I murmured.

“
When I called your
phone—Nick answered, he told me what happened.”

“
Oh, that’s right you
talked to Nick. What did he tell you? I need details.” My voice
cracked and I felt every nerve pushing at my skin as I burst into a
cold sweat and my headache migrated into my jaw.

“
When I talked to him, he
told me that Calvin blew everything wide open with Max’s mom. He
said that you and Max broke up over it. I guess Max told his mom
that
he
broke up
with
you.
Wilson,
this is all second-hand, why don’t you call—”

“
I can’t call him, his dad
just died and he has to take care of his family…He’ll call me when
he’s ready. And if he thinks we are broken up—well, then, I guess
his mom was right,” I suggested.

I sat up on the side of the bed. My
legs dangled heavily; the pressure of being on the edge dug into
the back of my knees and my feet began to tingle. I felt a surge of
defeat and fear ping-pong through my body. Everything was crashing
together in my head. The idea of Max and me ever being together
again started dissolving with Joanie’s words. Was I just another
conquest to him? Did he get what he wanted from me so his father’s
death became the perfect excuse to walk away?

Nick must not have said anything to
Joanie about us last night. In an instant, what had happened last
night echoed deep in my heart and started flashing lucidly in my
head—the images of Nick nibbling on my ear, kissing me, pressing
his steaming lips down across my collarbone—God, I tried to hate
it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how good he made me feel.
How the dormant butterflies in my gut began to vibrate.

“
Wilson, Max is going to
call you. He’s lost and hurting right now. Give him some time,”
Joanie said, trying to convince me that everything was going to be
put back the way it was.

“
Nick won’t forgive me,” I
mumbled absentmindedly as I tried to press away the thoughts with
the heels of my hands in my eyes.

“
Nick?” Joanie
questioned.

“
Huh?” I hummed looking at
her with black spots dancing across her face.

“
You said ‘Nick won’t
forgive you’—what does Nick have to do with it?” Joanie cocked her
head just enough to kick me out of my reverie.

“
Umm, nothing. I just
didn’t—I wasn’t thinkin’ clearly,” I stuttered and felt the blood
rush to my cheeks.

“
Wilson—I’ve known you
most of my life. I can tell when you’re keepin’ something from me.”
Joanie slid over next to me on the bed. “What the hell happened
with Nick?”

I felt the tears push from
my eyes, roll down my cheeks, and tumble off, landing against my
shirt. Suddenly, what I’d done with Nick last night was
unforgivable, misaligned, and morally wrong. I was wrong, and
having Joanie recognize it in me, made it sting that much
more.
How am I going to tell her without
looking like a total slut? What excuses would work for her? Ahhh,
shit, nothing’s going to make it easy.

“
J, I screwed up! I really
screwed up last night—” I pushed my head into the palms of my
hands.

“
What happened?” Joanie
slid down on the floor in front of me.

Our eyes met and I couldn’t hold back.
My story spewed from my mouth, prolific and detailed, with every
last feeling that accompanied our actions and reactions.

Joanie just sat on the
floor, her legs criss-crossed, her eyes as wide as sand dollars,
listening. I told her about Nick sucking my finger, and Lupita
making dinner. I told her about kissing him, and how I felt
dejected when he pushed me away. I told her how he caught me by the
arm, pulled me back against the fridge, and made out with me. I
told her
everything
—how his lips felt when he dragged them across my neck, how
hard he pushed against me, how much I wanted to forget.

“
Cindy was the one who
walked in on us,” I screeched.

“
NO! You’re kidding—holy
shit, Cindy caught you guys?” Joanie’s face went white.

“
Yeah, Nick kinda went off
on her too, so now she thinks I’m with her brother.”

“
Well, usually when you
make out with someone, you’re going out. But Cindy?”

“
It gets worse. She knows
about Max,” I mumbled.

“
Knows what?”

“
She knows Max is Matt
Gladstone on my phone.”

“
How do you know she
knows?”

“
It’s Cindy, okay—she
knows. Besides she whispered in my ear about Matt Gladstone—I was
so drunk, I just remember throwing-up after that. I drank way too
much and I didn’t even like it; but I couldn’t bring myself to
stop. I just didn’t want to hurt anymore. I wanted to stop
thinking. I guess I wanted to pass out; forget about Max and what
had happened with Nancy.”

Joanie leaned toward me. Her bottom
lip disappeared behind the edge of her perfectly level, white front
teeth and stoic upper lip. She struggled to find words to
say.

“
Well, Wil, you’re not a
drinker—and even if you were, you know getting drunk isn’t the way
to forget pain. All it is, is the fastest way to a much deeper
ache.” Joanie looked over at me. She saw how broken I was, how all
the color had evacuated my face, and shame weighed heavy on my
shoulders.

“
I guess you probably
already know that though, huh?” Joanie said.

I shook my head and felt a wave of
regret for what I’d done. The feelings that had soared and made
every kiss, touch, and push from Nick so good last night were now
the same emotions that twisted it into something slutty and wrong
today. My head dropped into my hands, and I wept for what I had
done.

Joanie rose to her knees, wrapped her
arms around me, and spoke soothing words that began to help me
understand why I made the choices I did.

“
Wilson, look at the last
six months of your life. It’s more than anyone should have to
handle. You’ve lost both of your grandparents, you’ve lost your
virginity, you’ve had to deal with such grown-up bullshit—nobody
our age should have to take that all at once. A whole new world was
opened up to you, and ripped away so fast, that it shattered who
you are. We’ve gotten through everything else in our lives; we will
get through this too.”