Chapter 18
Late Tuesday night after dinner with my dad then band practice—which wasn’t too bad because Romeo has toned himself down a bit—I’m sitting at the desk in my room and writing an essay for Philosophy when my phone breaks out with Iggy Pop’s Lust for Life. Though one of my favorite drum beats, I’d planned on adding more of my favorites, one for each of my most used numbers, I just never have the time. I glance at the name and let out a sigh. Marcus has called me at least three times since Sunday. Having no idea about how to explain why my mother was in the hospital, I haven’t called him back. I’m also still pissed about the way he treated Chloe.
Iggy’s voice fades. Guilt pounds in my head. My phone beeps announcing a text. Releasing a sigh, I pick up my phone and read the text.
Marcus: What the hell? Why haven’t you called me back?
Gnawing on my lip, I stare at my phone. I give in after finishing my essay. I’ve been putting the call off for too long.
“Shit Riley,” he answers. “What is with you and your phone?”
“I’ve been busy,” I say, which is absolutely true. I’m always busy lately. “So what’s up?”
“Ah, I’ve been worried about your mom.”
“Mom’s good.”
“So what happened to Mags?”
“I’d rather not say. It’s kind of personal but she’s good.” Perhaps not good but functioning.
“What?”
“Marcus—”
“Are you kidding me? We’ve been friends since second grade. Your mom’s made me thousands of P&Js. She’s practically my surrogate mom, but whatever happened in the hospital is too personal to share?” Each word comes out in a higher volume than the last.
“She overdosed on sleeping pills,” I snap.
“Holy shit!”
“Stop. It was an accident.”
“You sure?”
“She didn’t remember how many sleeping pills she took. Listen I didn’t even tell Chloe so I’m expecting you to keep this to yourself.”
“Like I’d tell anyone, especially Chloe. You know me better than that.”
The way he says, more like spits out, Chloe’s name has me thinking he doth protest too much. “I was talking about people like your mother. My mother would freak if your mom knew. People tend to assume the wrong thing.” Myself included.
“Like I even talk to my mom anymore. Hey, is this why you didn’t call back?”
“Kind of,” I say, skirting the issue. “But I have been busy.”
“Too busy for me?”
“Marcus, I’ve been too busy for me.” Thinking of Chloe again, I add, “But I wanted to go out this weekend. You up for a movie?”
“When?”
“Saturday,” I say, not revealing to him Chloe will be there too. He agrees enthusiastically and doesn’t seem surprised at the midnight time then we wander into talk about the marching band and Luminescent Juliet.
When I tell him I have to get back to homework, he says, “Yeah, I have a shitload to do too. But I’ve been wanting to say something for a while so…
My heart starts thudding in panic remembering Chloe believing Marcus is in love with me.
“I wanted you to go to Virginia, but a part of me was like fan-fucking-tastic when I heard you weren’t going. I would have missed you too damn much.” There’s a long pause of silence between us. “Forgive me?”
“Of course, Marcus,” I say with relief. “A small part of me,” a very, very tiny part, “didn’t want to go either. I knew I’d miss my family and you and Chloe. So maybe things worked out for the best.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, I’ve got to go. See you Saturday.” I set my phone on my desk with a new feeling of guilt. Neither Chloe nor Marcus knows the other is coming. I’ve turned into a sneaky matchmaker within one phone call.
***
Each October, the only theater still showing movies downtown runs the Rocky Picture Horror Show on every Saturday at midnight for the month. And for the last three years, Chloe hauled me to at least one showing. We’ve never brought Marcus. It’s always been just the two of us amid rowdy costumed fans. Neither Chloe or Marcus looked happy when we met up in the lobby, and neither of them have talked to each other, just me.
Marcus and I are both dressed in t-shirts—mine is plain while his has Reading Rocks! across his chest—and jeans. However, Chloe looks fabulous in a forties looking red dress with a flared skirt and a matching hat. She always dresses over the top for this. I was counting on her flash, but Marcus hasn’t seemed to notice.
Amid the loud crowd—some dressed in movie costumes—we stand with me in the middle watching the movie and yelling the lines. Well, Chloe and I yell most of the audience lines. The only ones Marcus figured out are ‘Asshole’ and ‘Slut’ whenever the main character’s full names are said. Between the popcorn and the profanity, he’s having a good time. Unfortunately, whenever he says slut, he glances at Chloe. With each yelled slut and glance her way, Chloe seems to get more introverted.
About half way through, Marcus asks me to tell him the lines in advance. So I try to whenever possible. During the floor show toward the end, Marcus yells out the line I just told him, “Blow us a kiss slut!” in Chloe’s direction.
Chloe freezes. Marcus laughs. My stomach turns. Chloe pivots the other way and walks out of the theater when he keeps laughing. I give Marcus a dirty look then follow her out. Within the heavy press of bodies, some in the aisle way, I lose her. Once I’m out in the concession area, I spot her outside on the sidewalk.
“Chloe!” I yell, stepping outside but she shakes her head and keeps walking. I run to catch up with her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have invited him.”
She daintily wipes at a tear so it won’t smear her makeup. “It’s not your fault he’s being an asshole.”
“I shouldn’t have invited him,” I repeat. “I just knew you’d look good tonight and I wanted him to see you dressed up. And I just hoped…”
She smiles through her tears and gives me a hug. “Oh Riley, he’s seen me dressed up before. But thanks for trying,” she says over my shoulder. “Oh shit, here he comes.” She pulls away. “Catch you later,” she says, forgetting or not caring we came together in her car.
I whirl around as Marcus comes up to me. “What the hell is your problem?”
His face scrunches in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Why were you such a jerk to Chloe?”
He shrugs. “I’m always a jerk to Chloe.”
But that was before you slept with her! Oh, I so want to junk punch him into reality. “Marcus, you need to stop. Obviously, it’s not rolling off her anymore.”
“Maybe that’s just her conscience.”
Marcus and I have had our spats over the years, but this time I’m truly pissed. “Can you just take me home?”
“You don’t want to watch the rest of the movie?”
“No, I don’t want to watch the rest of the movie. It’s something Chloe and I do together,” I snap. “Since you pissed my ride off into leaving early, you need to give me a ride.”
He digs in his pocket. “Sure. Fine. I’ll give you a ride home. Maybe I’ll just stay at my house tonight. At least my mom will be happy.”
We walk to his beater of a car in silence, and other than the radio, the car is quiet on the way home. I sit with my arms crossed and fume the entire way. But when we pull into my driveway, Marcus says, “Look, I’m sorry I was a jerk to Chloe.”
“You need to tell her that, not me.”
He mumbles something under his breath.
“What are you mumbling,” I demand from behind clenched teeth.
“Chloe just gets on my nerves. It’s like we can’t do anything unless she comes.”
“Okay, I’m not even going to listen to this.” I reach for the door handle. “We’re in college not kindergarten.”
His fingers grip my shoulder. “Wait, Riley.”
“What?” I ask within a sigh.
“I…could you please let go of the door?”
I let the handle go and fall back against the seat.
He turns to me, bending a knee. “You had to know that I liked you junior year.”
Oh hell no. “Why are you bringing this up?”
He takes a deep breath. So deep his chest expands. “Because I never stopped liking you,” he says with the air he lets out.
Hell to the no. “Marcus—”
“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it. Since I’m friends with both you and Aaron, I decided to bury my feelings. Even after Aaron broke up with you. But when you didn’t get back with him last month, I started thinking about you and me again. And I’m tired of pretending.”
Oh really hell no. “Marcus—”
He runs a hand down his face. “I think I’m in love with you,” he says with a laugh as if being goofy softens the seriousness of the words.
“Then why would you sleep with Chloe?”
He rears back until he’s is pressed against the glass of his door. “She told you that?”
“No, you moron. You left the door open. I almost walked in on you two.”
He watches me before he slowly says, “It meant nothing. It’s always been you. Never her.”
“Oh Marcus, that’s not what I meant. If you love me, why would you be attracted to Chloe?”
“Because I’m a guy?”
“That’s the lamest reason I’ve ever heard. It sounds like something Justin would say.”
He groans with frustration. “Can we just forget everyone else and talk about us?”
I want to give him some excuse about my life being such a cluster fuck that I can’t deal with this right now. I don’t want to hurt him, yet I know if the truth isn’t said, everyone will go through more hurt later. “No. You slept with Chloe, and whether you realize it or not, she has feelings for you. Beyond that, I love you as a friend, like a brother.”
“Like a brother?” he repeats softly.
I nod, open the door, and tell him goodnight.
Walking into my house, I wonder what’s going to turn to shit in my life next because I’m quite sure my friendship with Marcus is now on the rocks.
Just like everything else.