Lead Me Not (38 page)

Renee blinked in surprise. “Huh? You love a guy I’ve never even met? Someone you never mention at all? Sorry, but I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed, cocking her eyebrow at me in disbelief.

“I can’t talk about him, Renee,” I begged, hoping she’d let it go. But there was no walking away from it now.

“Uh-uh, you and I are long overdue for a good, long girl talk. Grab the ice cream, I’ll get the chips, and we’re parking our asses on the couch,” Renee instructed, and I couldn’t help but smile. After keeping secrets for so long, I found myself looking forward to letting some of them go.

I pulled two pints of Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer and met her in the living room.

“You need to start at the beginning and go from there. Why is this relationship so secret? It’s not like you,” Renee said as we settled on the couch.

I put a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth, hoping the resulting brain freeze would knock some sense into my otherwise thick skull.

“He’s in the support group I help to facilitate,” I admitted, confessing my sins quickly. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid—better to do it all at once.

Renee’s eyes widened. “Well, that can’t be good,” she observed.

“Uh, no, it’s really bad actually,” I mumbled, scooping more ice cream into my mouth.

“Well, the secretiveness makes sense now,” Renee mused, putting the Ben & Jerry’s aside to start on a bag of sour-cream-and-onion potato chips.

“It started before I realized anything was going on. He sort of snuck up on me, and then it was like a full-blown meltdown. Does that make any sense?” I asked. Actually talking about my relationship with Maxx made me realize how reckless the entire situation was.

“Completely,” Renee answered, grimacing. I knew she was thinking about Devon, and not for the first time, I felt guilty for how judgmental and unsympathetic I had been about her feelings for her ex. I now understood how difficult it could be to let go of someone you cared about, even if you knew he was bad for you.

“Brooks knows,” I said.

Renee surprised me by rolling her eyes. “Good. He needs a reality check.”

“Huh?” I asked.

Renee handed me the chips. “That guy has been panting after you for entirely too long. It’s embarrassing to watch.”

I shook my head. “No way. We’re just friends. We’ve been there, done that, got the crappy T-shirt,” I argued.

Renee rolled her eyes again, making me feel as though I had missed something glaringly obvious. “Well, you’re blind then. Because that boy wants a return ticket on the Aubrey Duncan express train straight into your panties. You guys have known each other . . . biblically. There is no way you can go from
that
to friendship without having all sorts of complicated shit under the surface. And Brooks Hamlin wants you . . . bad. So I say, good! He needed something major to make him move the hell on,” Renee
remarked, not unkindly.

Her crass observation brought a whole new level of complication to an already convoluted equation. Was Renee right? Of course she was right. Deep down I had suspected the same thing for a while now.

“But he knows. And if you’re right and he’s got these unrequited feelings, what’s to stop him from telling someone?” I moaned.

Renee didn’t say anything. There was no need to point out the obvious: If I was so worried about repercussions, I shouldn’t be doing it in the first place. If I really cared about my future, I should end things with Maxx and forget about him.

But that would make things entirely too simple. And clearly my heart didn’t like simple.

Renee reached out and stroked the back of my head. “I honestly don’t think Brooks would do that to you. He’s your friend, Aubrey. You would never have gotten close to him if you thought him capable of such bitchy behavior.” Again, my suddenly wise roommate was right. I couldn’t imagine Brooks being so hateful.

Then again, it was hard to forget the anger and hurt on his face when he realized what was going on between Maxx and me. The truth was, I just didn’t know who and what to trust anymore.

“I wish I could tell you what to do, but if you hadn’t noticed, I’m not the best one to give relationship advice. I can only tell you to be careful. I don’t want to see you getting hurt,” Renee continued, giving me a look full of sympathy.

Oh, how times had changed. Not too long ago I was bestowing those particular looks on her. I had sunk so low.

Before I could drop to the floor in a flood of self-pity, Renee’s phone dinged, letting her know she had a text message. She picked it up off the coffee table and read it, her face contorting in a mixture of anger and fear.

“What is it?” I asked, watching as she hastily deleted the message.

Renee forced a smile and tucked the phone into her pocket. “It’s nothing,” she lied.

I narrowed my eyes at her, and she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s just Devon,” she replied.

“Devon? I thought you guys were done?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t missed a major shift in my roommate’s circumstances while I had been wrapped up in Maxx.

“Oh, we’re done. He’s just having a hard time accepting it,” she muttered.

“What did his text say?” I asked. Given Devon Keeton’s stellar personality, I could hazard a guess at the contents.

“Nothing, really. He just has a fondness for some not-so-nice words.” She shrugged again.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say something nasty about her ex. But I stopped myself. Renee was holding strong, though I worried about how long that would last. And I knew my hateful remarks wouldn’t help anything, even if they made
me
feel better. Looking at Renee, I could see how much Devon and their relationship had taken their toll. But she still loved him. I could see that plain as day. And that love was hurting her.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I was in a similar situation. My feelings for Maxx were causing me to make decisions I never would have made in the past. I was forgetting about everything that had mattered to me, potentially throwing it all away to save a boy I was pretty sure didn’t want to be saved.

Love made us stupid.

Love made us blind.

Love could incapacitate us and leave us powerless.

And love could also make everything better.

I couldn’t let myself think anything else.

But Renee’s love had come close to destroying her. It hadn’t fixed anything. There was a new realization in my friend’s eyes that had never been there before.

I reached out and squeezed her hand, offering support, which ultimately is all that any of us wants. She tried to smile, but her mouth twisted into more of a grimace.

“I’ve got to head to the library. Will you be here tonight?” Renee asked.

“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. Because I knew if I could find Maxx, I wouldn’t be coming home. Already, I was twitchy and anxious to be with him again. We had been together just that morning, yet here I was fidgeting and restless like a junkie needing my fix.

Maxx was my drug.

Renee’s lips turned upward in a sad smile. “Just don’t get dragged down by him, Aubrey. Learn from my mistakes,” she cautioned. I wanted to blow off her statement, but I couldn’t. She was right.

After Renee left, I gave in and tried to call Maxx again. And again he didn’t answer. I thought about leaving a message but decided against it. He’d see that I had called. I only hoped he’d call me back.

I couldn’t sit around my apartment waiting for my phone to ring. It was sad and pathetic. I had things I should be doing. I had work that needed to be done. I had been neglecting school in the past few weeks, and I would have to work my ass off to get back on track.

I gathered my book bag, trying not to focus on the state of my bedroom, which also had been neglected due to my obsession with Maxx. The amount of dust had me fleeing quickly.

Once on campus, I headed for the back entrance of the psy
chology building. I had forgotten to check Dr. Lowell’s symposium schedule for the week, and I didn’t want to make things worse for myself by not showing up to the class.

I hoped I wouldn’t run into my adviser, but I should have known I wouldn’t be that lucky. The universe seemed to be turning up its middle finger in my direction lately.

“Aubrey! Come in and talk to me for a minute,” Dr. Lowell called out as I tried to slip into the reception area outside her office without being noticed. Clearly I needed to work on my stealth skills.

Facing my professor, whom I had a lot of respect for, knowing I was betraying the confidence she had in me, was a new kind of torture. I was fearful she’d look at me and know all my secrets.

I hated that this shiny new love I felt for Maxx also brought with it immeasurable amounts of guilt and shame. Why couldn’t Maxx and I have met under different circumstances?

But a part of me knew that a lot of what drew me to Maxx was the messy chaos inside him that had landed him in the group in the first place.

God, what did that say about me? Maybe it wasn’t Maxx who was the truly messed-up one? It was apparent my issues were just as damaging.

I walked into Dr. Lowell’s office and stood awkwardly inside the door. My professor looked up and gestured for me to have a seat. I scrutinized her face, looking for displeasure or anger. I was festering in my own distrust.

“Just give me a moment to finish this,” Dr. Lowell said, sorting through a pile of papers.

While I waited, I looked around the office I had spent so much time in. I could remember taking my first class with Dr. Lowell my freshman year. Psychology 101 hadn’t been the most riveting class, but I had loved Dr. Lowell’s teaching style. She had a way of
inciting passion in her students that was awe-inspiring.

I had been lost and miserable that first year, after losing Jayme. My relationship with my parents was strained. I was hundreds of miles from home, and I was alone. I had cut ties with all my friends from high school and hadn’t been looking to make any new connections with anyone.

But somehow, Dr. Lowell had seen something in me and had quickly taken me under her wing. I respected her refusal to make or accept excuses for anything. I had been drawn to her gruff yet kind personality and the way she expected me to hold myself accountable but be ever mindful of my grief.

She nurtured my desire to be a counselor. She guided me down the path I had chosen. She was my mentor. My adviser. My favorite professor. And the thought of letting her down made me sick to my stomach. I was terrified of looking in her eyes one day and seeing disappointment.

Finally, Dr. Lowell gave me her attention, and I almost sagged in relief when I saw her smile. This wasn’t someone who was unhappy to see me. On the contrary, she seemed pleased.

“I don’t want to keep you, Aubrey. I know you must be busy. I just wanted to take a moment to tell you I’ve heard such great things from Kristie about group,” Dr. Lowell said, shocking me.

“Really? I was pretty sure that after my screw-up I had been written off,” I said, making Dr. Lowell laugh.

“I think she’s gotten over it. Kristie can be a tough sell. She comes across nice enough, but she’s pretty inflexible about things. So the fact that she’s come around is a huge compliment.”

The praise didn’t bring with it the warm glow of pride it normally would have. No. In fact, it made me feel worse. What would Dr. Lowell and Kristie say when they realized how inappropriate I was actually being? I shuddered at the thought of their faces if the truth ever came out.

So why wasn’t that enough to make me walk away?

Because I suffered from my own addiction, which sucked away all logic.

“Thank you,” was all I could squeak out. Dr. Lowell beamed at me, and I wanted to flee. Run away. Now.

“Check my schedule on the door, and put yourself down for a one-on-one after group is over. We can talk about how things went and look at options for your next volunteer placement,” my professor instructed, dismissing me.

I didn’t say a word as I got to my feet. I hurried out of the office and did as Dr. Lowell requested. I already dreaded the meeting.

I should go to the library. I had a mountain of work to catch up on, but right then I just wanted to get off campus. I wanted to go to Maxx’s apartment and submerge myself in the feelings I experienced only when he touched me.

I pushed through the doors that led out onto the academic quad. I rushed down the sidewalk and came up short. The sight of color at my feet caught my attention. I looked up and saw that the entire length of the pavement was covered in a drawing.

I backed up so I could get a better look at what was an elaborate kaleidoscope of images. At the center were two figures that looked like marionettes on strings. Their joints were depicted as jagged, bloody seams held together by nuts and bolts. The strings holding them up disappeared into a thick, raging fire above them.

The marionettes were clutched together, their awkward limbs trying to hold on to one another. The ground below them was giving way, crumbling and disappearing. The long blond hair of the female puppet was wrapped up in flowers that obscured her face, the fair strands an intricate weaving of the letter
X
.

While I stood there, transfixed by the strange yet unbelievably beautiful image, water hit the tip of my nose, followed by more drops on my cheek. Looking up, I saw clouds moving in and
watched with sadness as rain flooded the drawing on the sidewalk, erasing it.

It seemed such a shame for something so amazing, something someone clearly spent a long time creating, to be ruined by a rain shower.

I hadn’t prepared for the turn in weather, so I stood there in the downpour, getting soaked. I watched with morbid fascination as the vibrant colors mixed together, washing down the pathway. The two puppets, locked in their passionate yet uncomfortable embrace, faded away until there was nothing left.

“Why can’t he just draw on paper like a normal person?” a hateful voice asked from behind me.

Brooks stood beside me, moving his umbrella so that it shielded me from the rain. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, not since our confrontation after support group. He continued to sit there week after week, but he hadn’t initiated any sort of interaction since. Nevertheless, I felt him watching me closely. And he wasn’t the only one. I knew that others were watching me as well, which didn’t help my paranoia, which was already near the breaking point.