Letting You Know (23 page)

The
car ride was worse.

“
So,”
I asked her, pushing against every bit of me that wanted to break
down and ask her what she was really thinking, “how have you
been?”

“
Fine,”
she said absently, staring out the window at the buildings. “LA
gets uglier every time I see it.”

My
face didn't move. Inside, my organs were twisting.

“
What
about you?” Turning in her seat, she let her eyes fall on me. I
wasn't entirely sure she was actually seeing
me
,
though, in that moment.

“
Living,”
I said, chuckling with barely controlled cynicism.

“
Any
work yet?”

I
crushed the steering wheel hard. “No, not yet. I'm pretty sure
I've convinced a gallery space to take my paintings in, though.”
I
had to pay them to do it, of course,
I
thought to myself in harsh misery. “Hopefully I'll hear from
them in a few weeks.”
That,
or I'll be asking my grandparents for help again.

“
Mn.”
It was a simple sound, but it was obvious she wasn't impressed.

Bethany
rarely was with me these days.

The
rest of the drive was quiet. She turned the music to the classical
station, covering for our inability to talk to one another.

What
does she want from me? Why come all this way, for just two days?

My
suspicion wasn't one I wanted to poke at. Like a fresh wound, it was
too raw, too painful to explore.

When
we got to my apartment, we continued to go through the motions. She'd
been there a few times since I'd moved in, but I still gave her a
pretend tour.

Carlo
wasn't around, one thing I could be grateful for among my depressing
day.

“
Are
you hungry?” I asked, imagining she had to be by now.

“
Yeah,
the flight didn't have much in the way of options.”

Nodding,
I wandered into my kitchen, digging through the cupboards. Carlo had
torn through my food as usual, leaving me with scant supplies.

Not
that I often had much these days. As wonderful as my grandparents had
been about sending me money to help out as I looked for work, it went
to paying my exorbitant LA rent more than anything.

I'd
learned to live on the cheap abundance of peanut butter sandwiches.
No jelly, that was too extravagant.

“
What
are you doing?” She asked, standing in the doorway.

“
I'm
going to make us some dinner,” I said, scrounging up a box of
dry pasta.
Ugh,
and I have nothing to serve with this.

“
Oh.”
She paused, folding her arms, blue eyes staring at the far wall.

I
knew that tone. “What?” I asked, setting the box down on
the counter.

“
Nothing,”
she sighed. “I guess I just assumed you'd want to do something
nice while I was here.”

“
Ah.”
My entire body felt warm. “I—you're right, let's go out
somewhere.”

“
No,
no, it's clearly not what you wanted to do.”

“
Bethany,
come on,” I pleaded, lifting my hands palm up. “Don't be
like that.”

“Like what?” She snapped, glaring at me with disgust.
“Upset that you didn't think enough of my visit to want to go
out somewhere nice?”

“
We
can go out!” I said, exasperated and confused.
I'll
have to use my credit card, even if I can't really afford that...
but...
“Come
on, it's fine. Let's just go somewhere nice and try to have a good
time.”

She
lifted an eye brow at me. “'Try' to have a good time?”

“
Have,”
I blurted. “Have a good time. Jeez, give me a break here, I'm
just—I don't know why you're so on edge with me.”

“
I'm
not.” She was lying, we both knew it.

I'm
lying, too, in a way. I'm pretty sure I know why she's on edge...

Again,
I pushed that fear down and away.

Reaching
out, I went to touch her arm, but she yanked out of reach. That
stabbed at me, a cold shard that made me sweat.
She
doesn't even want me to touch her.

“
Just
forget it,” she muttered, stomping out of the room. I could
hear her heels as she went up the stairs.

Baffled,
unsure what to do, I leaned against the counter. The pasta box,
bumped by my arm, tumbled to the floor.

I
didn't pick it up for a long while.

****

Carlo
found me when he stumbled home after two in the morning. I'd set
myself up on the couch, no blanket or pillow to my name. I didn't
need them anyway. It was too hot still in the apartment...

And
my mind was buzzing.

“
Hey,”
he said, sitting down beside me without asking if it was alright.
“Where's Bethany?”

“
Asleep
upstairs,” I mumbled. She'd refused to talk to me when I'd
tried several times. Finally, when I brought her a bowl of pasta,
adorned in only salt and butter, she'd told me to take it away.

She'd
told me to leave her alone.

Ever
since, I'd been sitting downstairs, the bowls of pasta growing cold
on the coffee table.

Carlo
spotted the food, I saw his eyes go there curiously. Whatever his
reasoning, he didn't ask about them. “So. You guys fighting?”

“
Yeah.”

“
You
want to talk about it?”

Talking
about it will make it real...

“
Come
on,” he said gently, breaking through my cold funk. “I'm
your friend, man. This is my job. It doesn't pay well, sure, but...”

I
almost smiled, yet my mouth felt too heavy to manage it. “I
think... Carlo, I think she might be planning to break up with me.”

He
was silent, considering me with his inky eyes. It made me
uncomfortable, I was used to him having something on the tip of his
tongue to say.

Shaking
his head, he scratched his cheek , looking away. “Jeez.”

That
made me laugh, though the sound was hollow. “Jeez? That's what
you have to say?”

“
Sorry,
sorry. I'm a little dulled, been drinking. Honestly though, Deacon,
when you say it out loud like that... are you actually shocked?”

“
Of
course I am,” I said stiffly, eyeing my hands. My fingers bent
in, making fists. “How can I not be?”

“
I
don't know, she just... you already know how I feel about it. I think
the world of you, Deacon. You're one of the most stand-up guys I
know... You deserve someone who isn't so...”

“
So?
So what? What is she?”

“
She's
not ready to take a risk, I think,” he said. “No offense,
but you're not stable right now. You don't have a job, you're as bad
off as me. Most people, they can't handle that.”

“
We've
been together since high school,” I mumbled, unable to look at
him. “She knows me, she understands why I'm out here. Risks...
please, she doesn't want to take a chance out here with me? You can't
be right.”

He
just shrugged, studying the tension on my face. I tried to ease it
away, but it didn't want to budge. “Carlo, come on. Why
wouldn't she stick it out with me, after everything?”

“
I
don't know, I really don't. Like I said, I'm just guessing here. But
to me, based on how I saw her treat you before, she expects a lot out
of you.” He opened his mouth, hesitating. I knew his next
comment would be one that would sting.

“
Deacon,
I don't think you're what she wants.”

My
mouth was dry, it tasted like cardboard. Standing on stiff legs, I
picked up the bowls of pasta. “You're wrong,” I
whispered, unable to find enough strength for the volume. “You
have to be wrong.”

“
He
isn't.”

We
both turned, spotting the owner of that honey-sweet voice that had
broken into our conversation. A conversation I had thought was
private.

Looking
into Bethany's eyes, seeing that well of blue sadness, I knew it
hadn't been. She'd heard the important parts, if her face was any
indication.

Carlo
jumped to his feet, taking the pasta bowls from me. “Uh, I'll
just... go take care of these.” I didn't fight him, my body
felt weak. He fled into the kitchen, leaving us alone.

Bethany
was standing on the staircase, the only light illuminating her was
the tall lamp in the corner. I'd been unable to sleep anyway, so I'd
left it on. It made her appear tired, the shadows deep under her
eyes.

“
How
long were you standing there?” My question seemed so small, in
light of her reveal.

“
I
heard everything that mattered,” she said sadly.

My
head couldn't get her words out.
He
isn't, he isn't, he isn't. That was what she said.

He
isn't wrong... I'm not what she wants.

“
Let's
get some air,” she said.

“
Okay.”
We moved to the door, slipping out into the dark hour of a new day
that had yet to blossom with a sunrise.

It
was early, too early; the world was still asleep. Even in LA, the
parties died after two a.m. She walked beside me, our shoes keeping
rhythm down the quiet road.

Bethany
said nothing, I knew I would have to start.
If
I start, then it will be over.