Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) (57 page)

“That’s stupid. He looks fine the way he is. Also, since when does fruit make you gain weight?”

“Try telling him all that. I made spinach lasagna tonight and he wouldn’t even touch it. All he had was the salad.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” I give it some thought. “You don’t think he has an eating disorder, do you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, he eats. It’s just not balanced enough.”

“I think that could still be classified as an eating disorder. I just don’t know what it’s called.”

I sit back against the cushions, feeling awful. How long has this been going on? I try to think back to the week before, and the one before that. Had Eryk’s eating habits been changing for the worse then? Was I just too involved in my own drama to notice?

“Maybe we should have an intervention,” I suggest.

“Okay.” She taps her finger to her lips. “But we can’t present it as one or else he’ll freak out.”

I frown. “I think that’s the only way to have one. You corner someone and tell them you’re worried.”

“Then we have to try something else. He’ll just yell and storm out, or find some way to turn it on us.”

“Hm. Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we could get him to admit to it.”

“He won’t do that. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong. I pointed out the fact that he’s always tired and having headaches, but he thinks it’s just because he’s flushing toxins out.” She rolls her eyes.

“Okay,” I assure her. “I’ll think of something.”

I get up, pad down the hallway to Eryk’s room, and knock softly on the closed door.

“Come in,” he calls.

I gingerly turn the knob. His bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn to block out the street light from below. I take a step forward and bump into a pile of clothes. Eryk is notorious for his messes. Most of the time you can’t even see the floor of his bedroom. Crystal likes to joke that
Fraggle Rock
is hidden under his bed.

He’s laying above the sheets, turned on his side, almost in fetal position.

“How are you feeling?” I ask. “Do you have another headache?”

He slowly sits up. “I feel fine now.”

“I skipped dinner on set. I think I’m gonna go get pizza. You wanna come?”

“No thanks.”

“Really?” I ask, trying to make my voice sound as casual as possible. “I’m going to Mario’s.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh, okay. Crystal said you didn’t eat dinner, so I thought maybe you were.”

“I had salad,” he snaps.

I open my mouth to snap back, then remember that if I’m going to get across to him, I need to stay on his side.

“Are you sure that’s enough?” I gently ask. “You always call salad ‘rabbit food.’”

“I don’t have an eating disorder, Sydney.”

His comeback takes me by surprise.

“I didn’t say that,” I answer, twisting my fingers in growing anxiety.

“I’m going to sleep. Good night.” He turns over and plops down with his back to me.

I edge out of the room, closing the door behind me.

Crystal is on the floor where I left her, stretching. She pauses in the middle of trying to touch her nose to her knee and looks up. “What happened?” she asks, her voice low.

“What happened?” I cross my arms. “He told me he doesn’t have an eating disorder and then basically kicked me out. I didn’t say anything
about
an eating disorder.”

Crystal shakes her head. “Jesus,” she mutters. “We have to do something.”

I chew on my lip. “Maybe he’ll just come around, you know? He can’t just eat lettuce for the rest of his life.”

Crystal exhales heavily. “Okay. But I think we need to watch him.”

“We will,” I agree. “We just need to be sly about it.”

My phone rings, buzzing from inside my backpack. I pull it out, thinking maybe it’s my mom or Lee calling. It’s almost midnight in North Carolina, and they’re the only two people I know back home who are night owls.

It’s Brendan though.

“Hey,” I say, taking a seat on the couch. Crystal gets up and goes into the bathroom.

“Hey. How are you?”

“Good.” I pull my feet up, sitting cross-legged.

“So,” he says. “I, uh, I’m going home early.”

My stomach squeezes, but I’m not sure if its regret or relief. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Cue the awkward silence.

“Why?” I croak.

I hear him take in a deep breath. “Talking with you made me realize some things. I was holding on to you. We spent a long time apart, and I guess I kind of had all these fantasies, you know? Like, I thought everything would still be the same between us.”

I look down at my nails. “I understand that.”

“And I’m just tired of Los Angeles. I thought I could do the summer, but I can’t. I got stuff to do at home, you know?”

“Your friends are there.”

“Yeah.”

“Your whole life.”

“Right.”

“I’ll be sorry to see you go,” I softly say and fall over on the sofa.

He pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I honestly answer. “You’ll always be a big part of my life, Brendan. I don’t think saying goodbye to you will ever get easy.”

“Maybe you can drive me to the airport.”

“I’d like that. When are you going?”

“Saturday morning. My flight’s at nine.”

“Okay.” I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Traffic is going to be hell. We might get hours to say goodbye.”

He laughs. “That’s one thing I’m not going to miss. Once I’m home, I’ll be able to walk almost anywhere I need to be.”

A sudden pain hits me. It’s a kind of longing, but for what I’m not sure. I certainly don’t miss Manteo, so what is it? Perhaps I’m jealous for the sense of comfort and hominess Brendan has in his life. I like my lifestyle and the city I’m in, but it all still lacks something that I used to have. It’s that feeling you get when you know you belong in a certain place with certain people. It makes perfect sense that he’s going back. Manteo is his alcove in the world.

As exciting and freeing as my life can be out West, I don’t have that. There’s no tiny corner of the Universe that is assuredly mine, no matter what.

I clear my throat. “That will be nice, yeah.”

“Thanks for doing this. I’ll send you my flight info.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “See you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hang up. Crystal comes out of the bathroom, braiding her long hair. “Who was that?”

“Brendan. He’s leaving early.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“Nope.” She fishes a hair tie out of her pocket and secures the braid. “There’s nothing here for him. You shot him down, remember? That shit hurts.”

I nibble on my thumb. “I know.”

“I think he came here just to try and get you back.”

I find the strength to lift my shoulders in a lethargic shrug. “It doesn’t really matter.”

Crystal smiles reassuringly at me. “You’ll find someone, Sydney.”

I didn’t even know I was worried about “finding someone.” The second Crystal gives me that assurance, though, a dam breaks in my chest and pain spews forth.

“Thanks,” I croak.

Moving onto someone else seems a long way off when I can still feel Simon’s phantom touch all over my body. Though I can manage to mostly escape thinking about him during the day, he’s there with me when I close my eyes at night, his kisses on my neck and his hands on my waist. Since being with him in that tiny library, the constant dreams about him have done anything but fade away. Instead, they’ve become more intense, more detailed.

“You just have to wait for the right person,” Crystal says. “In the meantime, let everyone be who they are. If they want to be around you and you want to be around them, things will work out.”

“You mean don’t be demanding of them?” I ask, thinking of Brendan’s words on the staircase.

She beams. “Yeah. Exactly. I’m going to make an ice cream sundae. Want one?”

“Of course. Maybe we can set one in front of Eryk’s door to lure him out.”

She giggles. “That was exactly my plan.”

*

The next afternoon when I return to holding from set, I check my phone and find I have several missed calls. I don’t keep my cell with me when I go to set because I’m terrified of forgetting to turn the ringer down and having it blow up in the middle of a take. I’d have a whole new bullet point to add to the reputation I’m afraid will one day develop.

Sydney Andrews. She fucked the head of the studio and then ruined one of the best takes in the history of Mulroney Pictures. Watch out for that one.

The three missed calls are all from a number I don’t recognize. I pull up my voice mail to see if there are any messages, but it’s empty.

“Huh,” I mutter to myself. The last call was twenty minutes ago. Maybe I should call the number back…

Emily comes on the walkie talkie, calling for me.

“Bring the extras back,” she says. “They need another take.”

“Got it,” I say.

I drop my phone back in the bag and go wrangle the ten extras I just returned with. When we get to set, we end up being there for the rest of the afternoon. I check my phone again at dinner, but no one else has called. I forget all about the number from earlier.

My phone does, however, ring when I’m climbing in my car that night.

“I need your help,” Crystal says. “Eryk is being completely crazy.”

My stomach lurches. “Uh-oh. What happened?”

“He thinks you and I are ganging up on him.”

I sigh and drop my head back. “Where are you guys now?”

“At home. I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Okay. I just got in the car. I’ll be there soon.”

“Good. Bye.”

I hang up and pull out of the parking lot, trying to think of things to say to Eryk. Crystal and I both already played the nice card and he was anything but kind in return, so we’ll just have to give it to him straight.

As I pass my old office, something catches my eye. I slow down to make sure I’m seeing what I think I am. It’s Simon’s car, parked in its assigned spot. It’s the only one in front of the building. The front windows are all dark, making it seem like the place is empty, but his office does face the other side.

What’s he doing in there so late? And all alone? Maybe he’s come back from his “business” trip with a new devotion to his job.

I press my lips together and speed up. From now on, I won’t look at his office when I drive by. I’ll just pretend there’s a giant sound blanket draped there, obscuring all views and cutting all sounds.

At home, I hear the yelling from the outside hall. I jiggle my key in the lock and cringe. The shouting gets louder.

Whatever is happening in the apartment won’t be pretty. I hold my breath and push myself inside.

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Eryk yells.

Both of my roommates are standing in the middle of the living room, their faces red.

“You guys,” I shout. “Calm down before someone calls the cops. I can practically hear you down by the pool.”

Eryk turns his hard gaze on me. “You’re in on this with her.”

“Wh-what?” I sputter. “In on what?”

“Don’t act so innocent, Sydney.”

Crystal speaks up. “There is no conspiracy, Eryk. Come off it. You know we’re right. Brian told you the exact same thing.”

“Don’t
talk to me about Brian.”

Crystal sighs and crosses her arms.

I clear my throat. “Did something happen with Brian?”

Crystal looks at me. “He told Eryk exactly what I’ve been trying to say. He needs to take better care of himself.”

“I am!” Eryk shrieks. “You don’t know what it’s like, Crystal.”

“And
you
don’t seem to know what you’re doing to yourself, Eryk! It’s not normal to be so tired, or to have as many headaches as you do, or be dizzy every day. You’re not eating right.”

“She’s right, Eryk,” I say. “We’re worried about you.”

Eryk’s hands curl into fists and he speaks through a clamped jaw. “I told you. I’m detoxing.”

Crystal shakes her head. “You’re not doing it right.”

“Oh, what are you, a nutritionist now?” he snaps.

“I obviously know more about it than you. Someone your size can’t live off, like ten calories a day.”

“Just leave me alone,” he snarls, stalking off to his room.

His bedroom door slams and Crystal’s mouth falls open.

“It’s like we have a kid all of a sudden,” she says to me. “This experience itself is literally birth control. I am
never
having children.”

I sigh and rub my face with my hands. “He just needs some time to cool off.”

“He’s only so angry because he knows we’re right.”

I nod in agreement. “Of course. But his pride is hurt.”

Crystal crosses her arms. “I know,” she mumbles.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. I need to get to bed.”

“Already?” She looks disappointed.

I take my shoes off and drop them with the others by the door. “I’m taking Brendan to the airport in the morning.”

“Right.” She bites the side of her thumbnail.

Passing across the room, I envelop her in a hug. “Don’t worry,” I say into her hair.

She guffaws. “The same to you.”

I draw back. “I’m not worried. We’ll get through to him sooner or later.”

“I meant about Simon.”

His name is a knife in my gut. “Oh. I’m not worried about that either. It’s over. For real this time.”

She squints her eyes in suspicion. “I don’t know. You seem to have gotten over him pretty quickly, especially considering how hung up on him you were from the get go. Are you sure you’re not just pushing your feelings down?”

I want to tell Crystal to stop playing therapist, but she just got told to stop playing nutritionist not five minutes ago. I’d hate to kick her when she’s down.

“Maybe there’s no other way through this,” I say quietly.

Crystal frowns at that. “We can talk about it any time you want.”

I rub the spot between my brows. It’s aching from exhaustion — and, yes, probably suppression of some feelings. “Thanks. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I take a quick shower and then throw on the pajamas laying on my bed from the night before. Right before I turn the light off, I remember to set the alarm clock.