The Arrangement 6 (2 page)

CHAPTER 2

It’s so damn late, but I can’t go home. I don’t want to see Mel
at the dorm, and I sure as hell can’t tolerate Amber right now. Before I realize where I’m going, I’m wandering through Penn Station and boarding  a train. Now, my head is tipped to the side against the window. There are a few other people scattered through the train car. For a long time, I just sit there and stare out the window, watching the world whip past in a blur of colored lights.

Numbness is consuming me. My phone is clutched in my hand. I flick it
to life and dial. Marty answers, half asleep. “Vavery?” He yawns. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I hear Marty sit up. “What’s the matter?”

“Hey,” I manage.

“Where are you?”

“On the train.” My voice is too soft. It catches in my throat and I think about hanging up. The lights
inside the train flicker and everything goes dark for a second before they blink back on. I stare at the houses crammed so close together, wondering about the people who live in them. I thought that would be my life. I thought I’d be in one of those houses one day. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. My throat is so tight, so dry.

Marty is quiet for a second. He must stand, because I hear his mattress
creak. “Taking a joyride?”

“Something like t
hat.”

The speaker crackles to life and announces the next stop. Marty must hear it because he says, “You’re at Babylon, babe. You passed your stop.”

“I’m not going home.”

“Then, where are you going?”

I take too long to reply. I breathe, “I don’t know.”

The train slows as it approaches the platform. Marty’s talking again. “Avery, get off the train and I’ll come get you, okay?”

I don’t answer. I look out the window at the parking lot. Unbidden memories flash behind my eyes like they’re happening now. I see my parents park their car and take my small hands, as we walk toward the station. I’m four years old and smiling. They tell me about the play we’re going to see in the city, and that there will be music and dancing. I can’t stop smiling. They swing me between them. I laugh as my little feet kick in the air. Marty speaks and the memory shatters—he doesn’t know what this place does to me. 

“Avery? Did the train stop?”

“Yes.”

“Get off. Go downstairs and wait for me. I’m already in my car. Did you get
off the train?”

The night air chills my skin and I realize
I’ve already exited the train. If I didn’t call Marty, I might have passed this place without getting off. The platform is high, it’s taller than the trees. I can see the school below and a parking lot that’s mostly empty. The wind whips past me, tugging my hair as it blows. My red dress does little to keep me warm.

“
I’m outside. I’m fine Marty. I’m sorry I called you.” I’m staring like I’m lost in a dream.

More memories surface:
Argyle Lake and winters with silver skates. Recollections of my Dad jumping up and down on the ice, telling me to come out, that it’s safe. I was so afraid back then, but my parents made me feel safe. They chased away the monsters.

I wrap my arms around my middle. A guy walks past me and gives me a once over as he heads toward the staircase.
My make-up is probably smeared all over my face.

I hear
Marty’s car start and realize he’s talking to me. “…can call me anytime. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I nod and hit END CALL.

My red dress draws attention, but the expression on my face keeps people away. I
walk down the stairs and fold my arms over my chest. I try to wait for Marty, and pace inside the lobby of the station. I look at the benches, at the seats, and more memories pound into me. I can’t stand it. It’s like opening Pandora’s box. There’s no way to let one recollection slip past without summoning ten more. This place brings them back. And, it’s not just the pictures and faces—I feel the hugs and distant laugher caress me lightly. It’s as if I’ve been touched by a ghost.

That’s it. I can’t wait. I can’t stay here.
I turn quickly and push out the front door. I head down the sidewalk and I don’t think about where I’m going. I don’t think about anything. I’m not sure how much time passes when my phone rings again. I look at the screen and see a picture of Marty’s smiling face with his 80’s flipped collar and spike hair.

“Hey,
” I say after answering.

“Where are you? I’m in t
he station, but you’re not here.” Worry laces through his words.

I feel bad for making him worry
. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stay there. I’m walking on Locust.” I’m not far from the station. The truth is, once I left the building, there was only one place to go.

“I’ll be right there.” Marty hangs up.

I keep my phone in my hand and look at the houses. I stop
in front of one and stare. A single sidewalk leads to the front door of a little Cape Cod style house. It’s still the same pale yellow color as it was when we lived there. The tree in the side yard still has my tire swing from when I was a kid. It moves in the breeze, gently swinging. I glance at my old window, and then to my parent’s window.

My
gut twists, tying itself in knots too tight to bear. I clutch my stomach and sit down hard on the curb. I press my fingers to my temples and lower my head to my knees.

Breathe, Avery. Just breathe
. It’s my mother’s voice. I hear it in my mind like she’s really here, but I know she’s not. I realize I can no longer remember the exact sound of her voice. It’s a shadow now, missing the inflections that she had. A sob creeps up my throat and strangles me. I sit there like that for too long, lost in the past.

Headlights
finally illuminate the street in two wide beams. I don’t look up. Marty steps out of his car and hurries toward me. “Are you all right?”

I shake my head. I can’t look at him. I can’t tell him what I did
with Henry. I hate myself. I hate what I’ve become. I don’t want to relive anything about tonight. I don’t want to tell him about Mel and Sean. Just thinking about it makes the panic return.

Marty
holds out his hands. I take them and he pulls me up. I fall into his chest and he folds his arms around me. He kisses my forehead and says, “Bad night?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then, don’t. Come on. Let’s get out of here before we get shot.”

CHAPTER 3

The next morning I rub my eyes and roll over. My head is pounding. The bed beneath me creaks and I realize where I am. I feel the supple sheets and Marty’s scent fills my head. I push up on my elbows and l
ook around the room. Last night is a blur of tears and regret. Going to Babylon was a mistake. I figured I already had my heart ripped out of my chest. I didn’t think I could make it worse. I was wrong.

“Hey lazy bones.” Marty is wearing a pair of lacrosse shorts
and no shirt. His hair is rumpled, but other than that he looks normal. There’s no trace of a late night under his eyes.

“Hey
.” I look down at my clothes. I’m wearing one of Marty’s old tee shirts. My red dress isn’t in sight. Neither is my bra. I threw them on the floor last night and collapsed on the bed. “I feel like I was comatose. God…” I rub my head. It’s still throbbing.

“Hang over?” Marty is sitting at the kitchen counter across from me. He has an
efficiency apartment, which means his bedroom is in his living room. I can see the entire apartment. I haven’t been over here much. It’s decorated nicely, but not as nicely as he decorated my dorm room. I shove the thought aside even though something seems out of place.

“I wish. I could deal with that.”

“Gonna tell me what happened?”

I stare at him. I feel like someone chopped me up and put me back together. It seems like every stich and every scar is showing. I wonder if I have bolts in my neck. I’m turning into a monster. I know it. I feel it. The pieces of me that remain are so small. “I caught Mel with Sean.” His jaw drops. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but the
y said nothing happened.”

“I’ll bitchslap Mel for you.”

“I already did.”

Marty looks impressed. “No way. And you lived to tell about it. She’s knifed people for doing less, you know.”

“I know.” I twist the sheet between my fingers as we talk.

“So, let’s pretend that I ate too much glue when I was little
, and that I don’t fully grasp the implications of what you’re saying. So what? I mean, you’re still hooking, so who cares if another girl fucks your guy? I mean, you’re doing it. Doesn’t it seem a little bit hypocritical to be mad if Mr. Twisted decides to have sex with someone else?”

“Yeah, I’m a hypocrite. That’s what had me in that funk last night.” I
say sarcastically and sigh as I rub my face with the heels of my hands.

“Then, spell it out.”

I glance up at him. “It was who Sean was with that was the problem. Mel didn’t tell me. She can’t tell Black no, but she could have mentioned it to me.”

“And what would you’ve done?”

I stare at him. “I don’t know.”

“He’s not yours, Avery. And Mel’s gotta work.”

“You’re taking her side?” I shoot daggers at him.

Marty
waives his hands frantically, “No, but what do you want to happen here? Mel’s your best friend. And you still have a thing for Sean. There’s no happy ending with him, Avery.”

I close my eyes and groan. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You need to. Deal with it. You got a shitty hand. Deal with it.” I look up and Marty’s eyes lock with mine. “Chose someone who can help you deal with it. Sean can’t. He hasn’t even faced his own shit, so he can’t help you with yours.”

My stomach dips. The way he’s looking at me, the
barely contained emotion in his eyes makes me look away. My heart thumps to life inside of me and I don’t know why. “How do you know he can’t help me? Maybe Sean’s has dealt with his past and—”

Marty laughs and folds his arms over his bare chest. “He’s dealt with his ghosts as much as you have.”

I bristle. “I’ve dealt with mine.”

“No you haven’t. That’s why you’re a mess. That’s why you can’t move forward. Stop making excuses. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. It won’t change anything.

“Keep your close friends close, and walk through the fire already. There’s a life waiting for you on the other side. I swear to God it gets better, but you’ll never get there with a guy like that. Sean’s pulling you down with him.” Marty’s gaze bores into me. His words are like stones falling from the sky. Each one hits me hard.

I feel naked, like he sees through me. I hate it. I want to pull the blankets up to my neck, but I know it won’t hide
anything. He knows me too well. “You think he’s a crash and burn?”

Marty gives me a look.
“I think he’s poison. I think he burnt up a long time ago. I think everything he touches turns to ash. I don’t want him to touch you anymore. I can’t stand to see you like this. You were doing well before he came along.” Marty takes a sip of his coffee.

“Is that why you chased him off at the hospital?”

One of Marty’s brows lifts and he gives me a lopsided grin. “You knew about that?”

I nod.
“Yeah, I did. I didn’t understand why you did it.” I’m looking at the sheets that I’m twisting in my grip when I feel the bed next to me dip. The springs make a metallic sound and I hear Marty inhale. He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I chased him off because I can’t let you do it.” Marty is sitting next to me.
I turn toward him and keep my eyes on his chest, on the smooth toned skin. I’m afraid to look up. This feels weird. It feels like he’s being possessive, but not in a brotherly way. The way he’s looking at me is so adoring, so perfect.
He’s gay. There’s no way in hell he feels anything toward me, not like that.
I think I’ve gone crazy until I feel his hand on my knee. His touch makes me so nervous. I don’t know where the feelings are coming from.

I glance up at him. “Do what?” Our eyes lock and something inside of my chest tightens. My stomach flips and nervous
energy shoots through my veins. This is impossible. The only pull I should feel toward Marty is friendship. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I can’t let you lo
se sight of who you really are—that red dress and those clothes—that’s not you. You’re not a call girl. You’re Avery Stanz. You’re a brilliant, caring, young, beautiful woman who has so much potential, so much life left in her. She’s capable of wonderful things. She’s the best person I know. You can’t give up on her, because I haven’t. She’ll pull through. She’s still in here,” he gently presses a finger to my heart. He says everything I ever needed to hear, but no one ever said.

I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling. The emotions that I buried in the back of my mind start to leak out.
“Marty…”

His hand
returns to his lap. “Don’t tell me she’s gone, because she’s not. Don’t tell me you can’t go backwards, that you can’t be who you were. You haven’t changed, Avery. You’re still you.”

I swallow hard and feel my chest cave in. Why does he do this to me? Every time I pick myself up and rebuild the walls, Marty tears them down. I need them to
survive. I can’t stand on my own anymore. No matter what he says, I know I’m too weak.

“Sentimentality won’t change anything, Marty. After everything I’ve done, after everything I did to get here—” I suck in air and shake my head. When I glance up into his eyes, I see my reflection. It looks the same. It looks
like the Avery from before my life spun out of control, but she’s not. That girl is gone.

Marty
takes my hands and squeezes them hard. “Then don’t waste it. You made huge sacrifices to get where you are, but that’s all they were. Those choices don’t own you. You own them.

“
Come on, who said,
regret is for pussies?
Who said that you only get one life, live it the best you can and don’t look back? You did. And out of everyone I ever met, you’re the only one who has the right to say it. You lived through hell, and you pulled yourself out. Don’t attach yourself to someone who’s going to drag you back there.”

I’m looking at my hands whi
le he speaks. This conversation feels too personal, but I need to hear it. There’s no one to tell me to suck it up, to get up and keep going. The girl who felt that way about regret gives me a mental high-five. She’s still in there, fighting to break free.

I lift my gaze and look at Marty. “Why do you put up with me?” I smile sadly at him and shake my head.

“Because…” Marty smiles at me, like the answer is so plainly obvious. “I love you.”