“Hey, girl, what’s up?” she greets me. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”
I wish I could return the sentiment, but there isn’t a merry bone in my body right now. “Hey. Can you meet me back at my dorm? I’m almost there.”
“Wait, you’re here?” There’s a pause on the other line. “I thought you were with Gray.”
“No, I’m here—”
“Did he drive you?” she interrupts, worry filling her voice.
“No. I paid for a ride.” I don’t say more than that. This is a conversation that’s better had in person, but I know even the few words I’ve already said are enough for her to figure out that something is seriously wrong. My chest aches all over again, and I push the feeling down. “Are you busy? Can you meet up?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Since I couldn’t go home, I wasn’t really planning on doing much today, just binge watching some shows or something. I’ll be right over.” She hangs up with a short breath that I know means she’s bracing herself for whatever shit storm she’s about to face.
Shit storm? Is that what this is?
I’m not really sure. I’m not sure about anything anymore. As much as I kind of feel like crying right now, I also feel like kicking someone’s ass.
Max is quick. She’s waiting by the door to my building by the time I get there. Swinging my bag around to the front of my body, I yank down one of the zippers and rifle around for the key card, relieved when my fingers brush up against the smooth plastic. Thank fuck I didn’t accidentally leave it at Gray’s place. The last thing I want is for him to have my key card, yet again.
“Shit, Sophie,” Max says, looking at me even though I can’t meet her eyes, “this looks bad.”
“Bad?” I repeat, but the word is hollow. I slide the card through the reader and the door clicks open.
Max follows close behind me as we head up to my dorm room. I haven’t been here since the night of the party, and it’s a little strange to walk inside the little apartment unit. I thought I’d be coming back to this place under much different circumstances. Maybe after a long, satisfying break with Gray, ready to start up a new semester and hit the ground running. I was looking forward to coming back here and painting again, to getting back into the groove of school and art.
Max gives me a look as she settles onto my couch. I’m still lingering by the door, almost like I’m afraid my fucking dorm room is haunted, but she gestures me over, patting the seat beside her.
“All right, girl, spill it,” she says as I walk over and sink onto the couch. “What the fuck is going on? What happened?”
In a few short sentences, I explain everything to her.
Just the facts, nothing else. I tell her about Gray and I discussing my art and him suggesting I transfer schools. Then I explain how a sudden flood of memories hit me, triggered by the stupid conversation. I’m proud of the way my voice stays steady and cool, but each word I speak feels like another small stab to my heart, another wave of fresh betrayal.
This is what you get for trusting people, Sophie.
This is what you get for letting them in.
Max’s face is dumbfounded when I finish my story. “What. The actual. Fuck?” She blinks, her hazel eyes narrowing. “I can’t believe he pulled that bullshit on you. I was just starting to think about forgiving him for being a cocksucker last semester.”
“Yeah.” I pick at a loose thread on the couch. “Guess this is what I get for trying to forgive and forget. What’s that saying? ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them.’ Gray showed me who he is from the first second I got here, and I should’ve believed that, not the pretty words that came later.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” Max shakes her head. “I really don’t. I don’t fucking understand it.”
“It’s fine.” I shrug. I don’t understand it either. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“That asshole!” She jumps to her feet, pacing around my small living room. “I thought… after he seemed to care so much at the hospital, after he seemed like all he wanted to do was to take care of you…” Her lip curls in disgust. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”
I stay on
the couch, my hands curling into fists as they rest on my thighs. Max’s fury is actually helping ease some of my own. It helps to share it with someone, to know that I’m not crazy for being pissed and hurt.
The shittiest part is, I almost wish I hadn’t gotten those memories back when I did. Fuck, I’ve spent every day since I woke up hoping I’d remember some part of what happened that night… but did it have to come back to me then? Did it have to be right after Gray gave me the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received, a gift that’s still around my neck and needs to be disposed of as soon as possible, before fucking me on the kitchen floor like he could never get enough?
Why did he have to make my heart whole before he smashed it into pieces?
“Shit, Sophie. I wish there was something I could say or do to fix things,” Max says, finally stopping in her tracks to face me. Her expression softens, sympathy shining in her eyes. “This is a whole new level of fucked up.”
“Thanks, Max.”