Bad Romance

“What does that mean?”

I look at you. It’s hard being angry at the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. But not impossible.

“It means I don’t want you spying on me or freaking out if I hug one of my guy friends. And … you need to get help. Like, real help. Meds. Something.”

“I don’t need fucking meds.”

“Yes. You do. Last year you were in the hospital. And now you’re threatening to do it again?” I step forward, lean my forehead against yours. “Please, baby. I’ll go with you if you want.”

We stay like that, holding each other, your breath against my neck, your heart beating against my chest. The thought of you not being alive hurts, makes it hard to breathe. You’re the only person in the world who would rather be dead than not be with me. Nobody loves me like that. If I were in a burning car that was about to blow up, you’re the only one who’d try to save me, the only person who would risk their life to save mine. I have absolutely no doubt that my parents wouldn’t go near the car—they’d come up with excuses and tell themselves they couldn’t have saved me anyway. And my friends, Beth—they’d want to save me but would be too afraid of dying in the process. But you. You wouldn’t think twice, would you?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, too.”

I kiss your chin, your neck, your earlobe. Breathe you in.

“Did you really mean it?” I ask softly.

“Yeah, I think I did.”

You’re a maze, all high hedges and endless loops. I can’t find a way out, can’t see where I’ve been. It’s all running, lost in the dark of you. Trapped. Everywhere I turn is a dead end. I keep winding up back where I’ve started.

*

I GO TO rehearsal after we leave the park. For the first time since working on a show, I have no desire to be there. I just want to curl up and make all this confusion go away. I want to not fall for Gideon. I want to not be thinking of breaking up with the guy I’ve considered my soul mate for the past year.

I push open the door to the theater’s lobby. Cast members are milling around, running lines, practicing sword fights. I wave back at the calls of hello and go into the theater itself. Miss B is standing on the stage, shading her eyes.

“Grace, is that you?”

“Yep,” I call.

“Can you go in the greenroom and get everyone who’s in there onstage?”

I throw my stuff down on a chair and head backstage. Lys, Nat, and Gideon look up from something they’re watching on a phone as I poke my head in. I can’t look any of them in the eye. Especially Gideon. If I do, I’ll start crying, I know it.

“Hey, guys. Miss B wants you onstage.”

I leave before they can grab me.

“Grace!” Nat’s in the doorway, looking at me, frowning in concern. “You okay?”

“Yep. Totally.”

“Liar,” she calls.

I give her a backward wave and head to the front row so I can get my clipboard and notepad. I jump onstage and Miss B starts listing things she needs done. I jot everything down as she walks around the stage, inspecting the set.

“We have to call the designer. This door won’t shut properly,” she says.

I see Gideon out of the corner of my eye. He’s talking to Kyle, his eyes flicking toward me every now and then. Lys pulls me aside before the run-through starts.

“Dude, what’s up?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

“Bitch, please.” She crosses her arms. “I know you.”

I sigh. “I’ll tell you tonight. We still on for a sleepover at your place?”

“Of course.”

I’m packing up my stuff after rehearsal when Gideon drops down onto the chair next to mine.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, psychic as usual. He’s scarily good at reading my moods.

“Nope.”

He studies me for a minute. “Fair enough. You coming tonight?”

Gideon’s parents are out of town and he’s having the cast and crew over. I’ve been debating all week about whether or not to go.

“I’m staying at Lys’s, so it’s her call.”

We go, of course we do. On the way to his house I tell Nat and Lys everything.

“What the motherfucking fuck?” Lys says from the backseat.

“Not how I would put it,” Nat says, “but I agree with the sentiment.”

“You have to break up with him,” Lys says. “I bet this is the shit he pulled with Summer.”

“Yeah,” I say, “and he almost died.”

The car goes quiet.

“He can’t put this on you,” Nat says. “It’s not fair.”

“In my professional opinion,” Lys says, “I say he’s codependent with narcissistic tendencies and major depression. I’m pretty sure that’s a fair diagnosis. This has nothing to do with you. He’s gotta work through this shit on his own.”

“Do you want to break up with him?” Nat asks.

I throw up my hands. “I don’t know. I mean, I really really don’t know. I love him, but…”

“But…,” Lys says.

“Gideon,” Nat finishes quietly.

I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah. Gideon.”

Nat pulls up to Gideon’s house and shuts off the car.

“I think that was smart—about telling him to gets meds and stuff,” Lys says.

“I mean, maybe that’s all it is,” I say. “A … what do you call it?”

“Chemical imbalance,” Lys says.

“Yeah, that. Maybe he’ll get meds and be the Gavin we all know and love.”

“Maybe we never really knew him,” Nat says. “Maybe this is the real Gavin.”

Someone knocks on the window and we jump. Peter and Kyle are waving us inside.

“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on Nat’s arm. “Don’t tell Kyle about this, okay?”

“I would never,” she says. “He’s my boyfriend but you guys always come first.”

When she jumps out of the car, he picks her up and spins in a circle. She throws back her head and laughs, carefree and happy. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat.

Gideon’s house is just like I imagined it would be. There’s a Buddha statue in one corner and the whole place smells like incense. There’s a small room off to the side of the entryway with meditation cushions and a yoga mat. Masks from all over the world hang on the walls along with pictures of him and his parents from their travels. There they are in front of the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China.

“You made it!” Gideon says. He has a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of gin in the other, but he wraps his arms around me anyway. I don’t push him away.

When he lets go, I turn to Lys. “I think this is the night.”

“The … Oh.” Her eyes go to the bottles in Gideon’s hands. “The night.”

I’d promised Lys that I would have my first drink with her. I want to have fun. I want to forget you. I want to do something that’s just for me.

Nat shakes her head. “I don’t know, Grace. Maybe you should wait until you’re not, you know…”

“I’m fine,” I say. “I want to. I’m eighteen, we’re graduating soon. I need to be, I don’t know, inducted or something.”

“You’re all speaking Girl,” Gideon says. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll see,” Lys says, grabbing my hand. “Direct us to where adult beverages can be found.”

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