Days Like This (17 page)

“YOUR MOTHER TOLD me that
you’ve had a friend visiting for a couple weeks now,” Dr. Lambert said at our
next appointment.

“June, yeah,”
I said.

“How has that
been?” she asked.

“Interesting,”
I said. June was the most real person I’d met. She knew what she was, what she
wanted, and she didn’t care if you liked her or not. She always said what she
thought, wanted or not. Especially since our talk. It was refreshing. “I love
being around her, but I didn’t know she was coming.”

“Why did she
come?”

“She said I
disappeared.”

Dr. Lambert
smiled. “You tend to do that. Why change that with June?”

“I trust her.
I didn’t want to lose her friendship.” And until I said it, I didn’t realize
how true that was. “I told her everything.”

The pen
scribbled on Dr. Lambert’s page. “What did she say when you told her about your
mom and Graham?”

I chuckled a
little. “I mean, she was understanding, but she said I was pretty fucked up.
Her words.”

“That’s quite
a friend.”

“She said
other things, too, that I hadn’t thought about.”

“Like what?”

I recounted
some of our conversation. The parts about being selfish, about me needing to
fix things while I had the chance, about me setting a new bar. It felt like a
good way to move on and deep down, I did want to move on. Be stronger. Be
brave. Do something to deserve all the good people I had around me.

Dr. Lambert
nodded. “How are you going to fix it?”

“I should
probably start with Rohan.”

Dr. Lambert
flipped through her notes, and I wondered what she kept written there. “Why
should you start there? I don’t know much about Rohan. You’ve barely mentioned
his name.”

I shifted on
the couch. “I was dating him at school, and then I left him. The same way I
left Graham. He wrote a song about me; it’s like number five on the Billboard
charts.”

“A song?”

I scrolled
through my music. I’d bought it so I could torture myself with how much I sucked.
I let the song play and watched Dr. Lambert’s face for a reaction. She was
stoic, jotting down a few lines here and there while she listened. When it was
over, she said: “How does that song make you feel?”

“Like shit.” I
paused for a breath and turned off my phone. “What do I say?”

“I can’t tell
you that. If you feel the way you do and you think June was right about your
actions, then what do you think the solution is?”

“Make it
better,” I said. Somehow. Whatever that was. Apologize.

“The best way
to do that is to lay it all out there. No turning back. No excuses. Say your
piece, accept what he has to say, and move on.”

“That sounds
easier than it will be.”

“You’re right.
It does.” Dr. Lambert leaned forward in her seat. “But, Cassie, if you want to
find your path, to set the bar like June said, then you have to let go of the
past or you will never be free from it. Do you want to spend your whole life
running?”

“No,” I said. And
I really meant that.

“I was going
to wait, but I think this is a good time to bring it up.” Dr. Lambert paused.
“Joyce and I have been talking, and I’d like to do a group session with you and
her and me.”

“In one room?”

“I want you to
tell your mother the things you’ve told me. I think she’s ready. I think you’re
ready. You both need this.”

“I don’t know
if I can.”

“You can,” she
said. “And you should. Set the bar, Cassie.”

“When?”

“Soon,” she
said.

I exhaled.
“Okay.”

Dr. Lambert
smiled.

ROHAN’S SONG “
GONE Gone Gone”
played everywhere—and it was clear that I
couldn’t ignore this. I didn’t want to be haunted by that song for the rest of
my life. I sat cross-legged in my room, and dialed Rohan’s number. My heart was
in my throat while it rang. Twice, three, four times.

“Hey,” he said
breathlessly.

My words
rushed out. “Hey, it’s Cassie.”

“This is Rohan.
I’m not around my phone, so leave me a message—”

Someone
screamed in the background, and another bandmate’s voice popped on the line.
“And check out our fucking song on iTunes, bitches!”

Rohan laughed.
“What he said.”

Voicemail. My
stomach churned. It would’ve been easy to leave a message. If I said, “Hey, I’m
sorry,” and left it there. The automated voice told me to leave a message and I
wanted to, but I couldn’t do that. I had to face this myself. I’d left a note
once and this time I needed to talk to him. I hung up as someone knocked on my
door.

“Harlen?”

“Come in,” I
said, but June was already opening the door.

“What’s going
on?”

“I tried Rohan—no
answer.”

“You called
him?” She was almost proud.

I nodded. “I
need to fix it. Every time I hear that song I cringe. I need to apologize to
him and to explain why I left.”

June smiled
and plopped onto my bed. “Then you’re telling Graham?”

I shook my
head. It was already early June. August wasn’t that far, and with August came
his independence. “I’m not telling Graham.”

“I think
you’re making a mistake.”

“I’m not,” I
snapped.

“I really
wanted you two to make up before I left so I could hear all the sexy details.”

There weren’t
going to be sexy details. “Left? You’re leaving?”

She nodded,
and bit her fingernails. “Saturday.”

Saturday? “But
it’s already Monday! You didn’t tell me.”

“It happened this
morning,” she said. She picked at the corner of her fingers, and she seemed
nervous. June was never nervous.

“Where you
going?” I asked

She shook her
head and curled her legs under her. “LA. My sister is there.”

“Foster
sister?”

June shrugged.
“Real one.”

“You have a
sister?” I asked. She’d never mentioned a sister. I studied her face looking
for some clue about how she felt, but she kept her face motionless.

“We’re not
that close.”

A sister. Why
wouldn’t she tell me about a sister? “So why leave then?”

“I have family
shit too, Cassie.”

“Right. Of
course.” I liked her being here. When she left, I’d be alone here with my mom.
Not that it was the worst thing, but when she was here I could pretend I had
something waiting for me. If she was gone then that was gone too.

June slapped
my leg. “Are you getting clingy? I swear to God I will drop your ass, too,
Harlen.”

“Me? Clingy?
Never!” I threw my arms around her and she laughed, but she didn’t move away
from my hug. She hugged me back.

“One thing we
have to do before I leave: go to your miraculous beach.”

“That we can
do.”

I WAS WALKING to my truck,
off to do another job that James needed some help with because extra money was
always a good thing. I opened the front door to see June spread out in the
backyard, in a bikini and an overgrown hat. She read a book with some shirtless
guy on the cover.

“You know that
the sun is bad for you, right?” I yelled, as I walked down the yard near her.

She spread her
arms out. “Yeah, but a girl needs a tan, and the sun is free.”

My eyes
wandered past her toward the house, but it didn’t look like anyone was in
there. No music, no lights. “All alone today?” I asked.

She nodded and
lowered her book to the ground. “Cassie and Joyce had an appointment. I’m relaxing
before I go to LA.”

“You’re
leaving?” I had a feeling that Cassie probably didn’t like that idea. I didn’t
know June well, but she was good for Cassie. She needed more people to call her
out on shit.

“Yup. Gotta go
see my own family,” she said. “We’re going to the beach tomorrow, if you’re around.”

The beach all
day with Cassie in a bikini? I’d seen her in a bikini, and I wasn’t that dumb.
I knew there was no way I could do that. I was too weak. “Can’t. Enjoy your sun
though.”

Cassie in a
bikini was glued in my brain. She used to have this pink one with polka dots. I
shook my head trying to force it away and took a few steps before June yelled
my name. “She’s different, you know.” I turned back to her. “Cassie. She’s not
the same as she was when she left you.”

Not the same?
June didn’t even know Cassie before she left. How could she judge that? She
didn’t know what went on in her head—hell, I didn’t even know that half the
time.

“You didn’t really
know her,” I said back. I didn’t need this; I was going to be late, but I was
also curious. What did she think she knew?

June stood and
moved closer to the fence between us. “I didn’t know her then, but I know her
now,” June said, getting nearer to me. I could’ve left. I could’ve walked away
because I didn’t even know June in any way that mattered. I didn’t have to
listen, but my feet wouldn’t move.

“I knew her
right after. Met her the first week of school and she was this fragile little
thing. I always knew she had something big, some kind of sadness that she was
lost in.” June was only inches from me. I could smell the coconut sunscreen. “I
know because lost people—we can sense the confusion in other lost people.”

“You’re lost?”
I asked. June didn’t seem lost. She seemed sure of herself.

“I’m fucking
Peter Pan.”

I took a step
away from her. “Well, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind if I need to never grow
up.”

“You’re lost,
too,” she said a little louder. I turned back to her again. “I can see it.”

What the fuck
was up with this girl?

“I’m not lost.
I know exactly where I’m going,” I said. “To work.”

June smiled as
if I’d said the funniest thing ever. Crazy, that’s what she was.

“There are
different kinds of lost. Cassie lost her way, but I think you’ve lost something
else completely. You just don’t want to admit it.”

I scoffed.
“You don’t really know me, June.” Only I couldn’t help but feel something
tugging inside me. She was hitting a nerve. One that I didn’t even know I had.

“I’m not
trying to make you mad, I’m merely saying what I see,” June said. She walked
away from me back toward her spot. It was an out. I should’ve left it there,
but I wanted to know what she thought she knew. Whatever it was, she was wrong.

“Which is what?”
I yelled.

June faced me
again, and took a step. “A guy who’s trying really hard to ignore the fact that
he’s still in love with the girl next door.”

“I’m not—” I
clenched my fist. I wasn’t in love with Cassie.

“A guy who’s
really scared right now, almost as much as that girl he’s trying not to love.”

 June
challenged me with a look in her eye. Her face was serious. She really believed
this. She really thought I still loved Cassie. I wasn’t scared. What the hell
did I have to be scared of? Even more…

“What does
Cassie have to be afraid of?” I asked. It was a little more aggressive than it
should’ve been, but this wasn’t cute anymore. She was digging up stuff that she
didn’t have any idea about. I didn’t like it. “Leaving was her decision. I’m the
one she hurt. I’m the one she left behind!”

“Have you ever
asked her why she left?” June yelled. I paused. I hadn’t. I still hadn’t. I’d
thought about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. June shook her head at
me. “For someone who says he knows where he’s going, you don’t really seem to
be looking for the answers.”

“I don’t need
answers,” I said. And I didn’t need them. Cassie didn’t want to get married;
she didn’t want me or to do any of the things we’d talked about. She’d left.
She did all of it without talking to me. Those answers were pretty fucking clear.

June removed her
sunglasses and looked me square in the eye. She seemed like she was going to
say something, but then changed her mind. “My crack whore mom abandoned me when
I was four years old for her drug dealer. My dad was never around. My sister
left me for a foster family with lots of money and pretended I didn’t exist for
years. I never asked why—not why my mom left or why my dad left or why my
sister left me to bounce in and out of shitty foster home after shitty foster
home.”

The words came
out quick in one breath. June paused, glanced away from me, and then started
again. “I never asked, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want answers. I did, but I
was too scared to search for them, and of what they meant for me when I got
them.” She paused. “So fine, I don’t know you that well, but I know how
important answers are, and the source to all your answers lives twenty feet
from where you’re standing.”

I did have an
opportunity to find out something, and I was too scared to hear her tell me why
I wasn’t enough. I could pretend that Cassie and I were friends, that I didn’t
think about what we had before or what we could have again, but it was
pretending. Friends didn’t think about their friends the way I thought about
Cassie. They didn’t feel whatever it was I felt. I glanced back at June, trying
to think of what to say to her story, but I didn’t have anything. She was right
though: I had to stop being scared.

June smiled
and slipped her sunglasses back on.

“It was really
great to meet you, Graham,” she said. With that, she turned away from me,
lowered herself back onto her towel, and shoved her earbuds in her ears.