Pictures of You (22 page)

             
“You have strange friends,” he whispered.

             
I groaned. “Tell me about it.” Although I loved how entertaining they were. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

              I fell asleep during the end credits. Well, I was half-asleep. I wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but I found myself lying on the couch, using Adrien’s lap for a pillow. And Tiger was using my legs for a bed. I heard Mary walk Keaton to the door and whisper goodnight. There was a long drag of silence. Kissing?

             
“It was nice to meet you, man,” Keaton said, keeping his voice down for my sake. “September’s lucky to have found you.”

             
“Oh, we’re not…” Adrien said. “We’re just friends. We’re…just friends. Nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry for your loss.”

             
“Thanks. You would have really liked Abby.”

             
“That’s what I hear. Take care.”

             
“I’m going to bed,” Mary said through a yawn after she closed the door.

             
“Okay, goodnight,” Adrien whispered in reply. “Sweet dreams.”

             
Her bare feet made soft patting noises on the hardwood floor. After I heard her bedroom door snap shut, Adrien got up and cleaned up a bit, tossing the empty Korean food boxes in the garbage, putting the soda cans and bottles in the recycle bin under the kitchen sink. And then he slid a throw pillow under my head, which I thought was incredibly sweet. I heard his sneakers squeaking against the floor until he pulled a soft blanket over me and tucked it carefully around my shoulders. I felt a hand brush the hair away from my face and moist lips press against the side of my nose. “Goodnight, September. I love—” He caught himself. After a pause he said, “Goodnight.”

             
I must’ve been pretty tired because I don’t remember hearing him leave.

22

             
“You seem really distracted lately,” Chris said, carving out a big chunk of pork burrito and shoving it into his mouth.

             
“What?” I said, unfolding a paper napkin and placing it on my lap.

             
He shook his head and laughed. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

             
“I was kidding, Chris. But you’re right. I do have a lot on my mind lately.”

             
The smell of sizzling meat and fresh flour tortillas filled our lungs as Chris and I soaked up the late September afternoon sun. A gentle breeze caressed our skin as we ate Tex-Mex at Chris’s favorite outdoor grill. It was the first time we spent quality time together, outside of work, since I’d met Adrien. We used to do this all the time, well, as much as Chris could get away with without making Megan jealous. Megan didn’t really know about us—about how close we’d become. He felt bad about lying to his girlfriend, but the girl was impossible. She smothered him like a needy boa constrictor. If it were up to her, he’d have no social life at all.

             
I looked Chris up and down as I chewed on my yummy black bean salad. He looked especially handsome today. I’d forgotten how good he looked in jeans and a shirt—I was so used to seeing him in that silly blue jumpsuit. I hadn’t noticed in ages the cute way his hair sometimes fell into his face and how endearing it was when he shoved it away in an angry sort of fashion. But Chris angry? Impossible. He was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. I smiled at his defined forearms that reminded me of Popeye, his long eyelashes and the way he’d gaze at me through them with his kind gray eyes.

             
A bullet of guilt shot through me as I realized how much I’ve taken him for granted lately. I loved Chris. He was the closest thing to family since Abby died. I didn’t deserve him, the way I neglected him, like an ever-growing stack of unopened mail. My insides melted and formed puddles as I thought about how much he meant to me, how he was one of the best things to happen to me in years. I took another bite, barely getting it down, feeling so laden with shame. “I’m so sorry, Chris. I haven’t exactly been a good friend lately.”

             
“You’re forgiven,” he said, half-smiling. “But I won’t lie. I miss you, Tember. I’m glad I was able to catch you today.”

             
I bit my lip. The only reason I made time for Chris was because Adrien had his godson’s birthday party to attend (I know—Adrien had a godson? There was still so much I didn’t know about him). He’d be gone all day. “I miss you, too.” And it was the truth.

             
Chris studied my face. “You look good. I’d swear you’re happy, because you kind of have this glow lately, but then sometimes your eyes are sad. Like they were when we first met. Is everything okay?”

             
I pulled away from his gaze, feeling exposed. “Yeah, I guess.” I didn’t feel ready to tell him the truth about Adrien. Would I ever feel ready?

             
“Come on, Tember, you used to tell me everything,” he urged, smoothing out a clump of guacamole on his burrito.

             
“I know, I know.” I picked at my food, feeling increasingly slimy, like a worm on a sidewalk, fated to be stepped on.

             
“What’s going on? Are you still seeing what’s-his-face?”

             
I laughed nervously. “Yes.”

             
He stabbed his burrito with his plastic fork. “Are you…falling for him?”

             
“No. Well, yes, actually…I don’t know…It’s pretty complicated.” I couldn’t meet Chris’s gaze. I could already see in my peripheral vision he was crushed. It was then I knew for sure I wasn’t the only one falling in love. Chris seemed to have a thing for me and I was stupid not to have caught it before. I mean, I knew he had a little crush on me, but this was a whole different ball game. But why? Wasn’t he in love with Megan? And if he really did have a thing for me, why didn’t he dump Megan ages ago when the door was wide open? I would’ve had him, no hesitation, if the choice was there. Before I met Adrien, that is.

             
I lifted my gaze. Our eyes locked and there was an intensity shared between us that took my breath away. The way he looked at me—if there wasn’t a table between us, if we weren’t in the middle of a crowd, if everything wasn’t so damn complicated—I knew he would’ve kissed me. And a part of me would’ve let him. I did love Chris. I always have. He was sweet and cute and funny. He could do no wrong. Probably not even intentionally hurt a bug. And he cared for me—more than I deserved. But I loved Adrien, too, with a more desperate urgency. I fell for him harder, faster. But with Chris it was a slow, steady burn. A safer, more familiar love.

             
Why did life have to be so complicated? Why did I have to fall for two guys at once? And right after John dumped me and my best friend died, right when I swore to never let anyone back into my heart, ever again. The timing of everything was so off. But that’s the funny thing about life. It has no respect for silly things like plans or timing. It does its own thing, no apologies.

             
“Can I ask you something?” I said, regretting it as soon as I opened my mouth.

             
He put his fork down. “Anything.”

             
I choked on the words. “Are you in love with…Megan?”

             
“No. Well, yes, actually…I don’t know…It’s pretty complicated.” Almost like a tape recorder, he mimicked me perfectly. We both laughed nervously. “Honestly? I’ll always care for Megan. Deeply. But I haven’t been
in
love with her for a long time. I’m not sure I ever did love her that way.”

             
I was stunned. “Why—then why—?”

             
“Her dad’s sick. He’s dying. He has Huntington’s. His body and mind are deteriorating. Shutting down. Megan is devastated. She’s a daddy’s girl. I can’t leave her…I can’t leave her in the middle of all this.”

             
“Oh,” was all I could say. Why was I surrounded by so much tragedy? Only last year the world seemed to be a much simpler place. I was so young and innocent. So carefree. But ever since Abby died, I seemed to draw sadness into my life like a magnet. Or maybe this was just part of growing up—realizing there were equal parts of joy and sadness.

             
“She took a test a couple of months before I met you. She found out she has it, too, but it could take years for it to kick in.”

             
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry.”

             
“I’ve been planning on breaking up with her for awhile. She’s a special girl, but she doesn’t let me
breathe
…When I finally gathered the courage to end things, she broke the news.” He raked his hands through his hair. “How could I, September? How could I dump a girl who’s going to die?”

             
I shook my head. “It must feel like an impossible situation. I’m so sorry, Chris.” I laughed, but only because it was so
Chris
to want to do the right thing. “You’re just too nice for your own good sometimes.” He sighed, his face screwing up, reminding me of a little boy. I continued, “But does that mean you should stay with someone you don’t love because she’s sick? Because her father’s sick? Is that fair to her, to live a lie? I know I wouldn’t want someone—no matter how much I loved him—to sacrifice everything, including his own happiness to be with me.”

             
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he said, studying his food. Suddenly, against my will, tears filled my eyes. “What’s wrong, Tember?” He reached across the table to touch my hand.

             
I pushed my half-eaten food away. “I’m not going to lie to you anymore.”

             
He seemed hurt and confused. “What? Lie about what?”

             
I struggled to talk through a lump in my throat. “Megan’s not the only one who’s dying.”

             
Chris’s eyes moved around my face, searching for clues. “What’s going on?”

             
“Adrien. He’s…he’s going to kill himself in eight days. The night of my parents’ party.”

             
He laughed nervously. “Adrien’s
killing
himself?”

             
“Yes,” I whispered.

             
“Wait. Why? Why would any guy who had it
all
—who had September Jones—want to kill himself?”

             
I shook my head. “I’m flattered, but it’s more complicated than that. He was suicidal before we met. In fact he told me he was the first day we met. Actually, it was the second day,” I said, remembering we’d first crossed paths when I worked at that art supply store.

             
“Why, though? Is he depressed or something?”

             
I bit my lip. “He won’t tell me the reason. And he refuses to get help.”

             
“I want you to break up with him. Right away,” Chris said through his teeth. I was taken aback. I’d never seen him angry before. “I can’t
believe
this guy. Does he know about your recent breakup? About the accident? Does he know how much you’ve suffered already? You don’t need this, September. You don’t need some wallowing loser pulling you down like this.”

             
“It’s not his fault. I practically begged him to spend time with me. I basically stalked him until he agreed to hang out with me.”

             
“But why? Is he that good-looking? Or is it the whole moody, bad boy thing he has going for him?”

             
I laughed. “Oh, come on. You know I’m not that shallow. I just felt this responsibility to save him. To keep him from hurting himself. And then he wasn’t anything I’d expected. I started…falling for him.” Unable to meet Chris’s gaze, I studied the edge of my plate, fully aware I’d stabbed him in the heart—again—with those words.

             
After a long silence, he said, “Okay, but if he refuses to get help, if he’s going to
kill
himself in a week…wouldn’t it be better for you both if you just walked away?”

             
I swallowed. “Maybe…Yes.”

             
“Okay then,” he said, frowning, standing up.

             
“But—”

             
“Leave him, September. This will only end badly. You were just starting to find some happiness. I don’t want to see him crush that. Please, I beg you to leave him.”