It was no secret that I wasn’t much of a cleaner. And I was also aware of Aubrey’s OCD when it came to neatness. The knowledge that she had thought about me at some point to come in and do this gave me a hope I hadn’t felt in a while. As I lay on clean sheets and looked around my spotless bedroom, things suddenly didn’t appear so bleak.

I must have dozed off, because I woke up sometime later. The sky had turned dark and the only light came from the soft glow of the clock on my dresser. Hit by a desire that had become very familiar over the last few weeks, I jumped up and opened my closet, rooting around inside until I located a large container of sidewalk chalk. I didn’t bother trying to find my paints, knowing that I had used up the last of them before I had gone into rehab.

I looked for my car keys, finding them in the same spot I had left them. Driving my car after so long felt a bit like hanging out with an old friend. It was a piece of shit, but it was my piece of shit and I had a crazy love for the clunking of the engine and the squealing of the brakes, even if these meant that it needed some serious maintenance.

I drove through town until I parked down the street from a particular brick building I knew all too well, though I had been inside only once. I made sure to position my car behind a tree so I wasn’t immediately visible. It wasn’t that late, but I noticed that the lights in the apartment on the third floor were out.

Feeling brave, I grabbed the chalk and walked down the street and stopped in front of the steps that led inside. Dropping to my knees, I dumped out the chalk and grabbed the color I needed and started making long, harsh strokes. It was hard to see, not the best environment to draw. But I didn’t need to see what I was doing. My hands didn’t need light to know what they were creating.

I didn’t know how long I was out there. It could have been hours or it could have been only minutes. People walked by, some stopping to watch me, others asking what I was doing. I ignored them.

When I was finished, I sat back on my haunches and squinted in the darkness at the final product. It was hard to see, but what I could make out, I was pleased with. My knees ached from kneeling on the hard concrete; my hands were covered in chalk dust. It was caked under my nails. My jeans were streaked with it.

I gathered the chalk that I had left and put it back into the container. It wasn’t my normal medium, but I had to admit that it was easier to work with. I just hoped it didn’t rain before morning. I took one final look up at the darkened apartment and wondered if she would understand what I was trying to say.

Who was I kidding? She had always understood me better than I understood myself.

The picture wasn’t much. But in this crazy, fucked-up world I found myself in, it was the only way I could get her to see me. And right now, that was something.

chapter

twelve

aubrey

“we need a girls’ night,” Renee declared, walking into my room. I looked up from the book I had been reading, but not really absorbing.

“A girls’ night?” I asked.

I noted the almost frenetic energy Renee exuded and wondered what was up. She was in a good mood, but it was a crazy sort of good mood that I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was the kind of mood that used to result in Renee getting loaded and dancing on tabletops.

“Yes. You. Me. Drinks. Eating. Laughing. I think we could both use it,” she commented, fingering the row of sticky notes in varying colors I had arranged on my desk.

“Okay, as long as you stop touching my stuff,” I said, shoving my textbook back into my bag and swinging my legs off the side of my bed.

“We can call Brooks if you want, see if he’s up to hanging out,” Renee suggested. I raised my eyebrows.

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of a girls’ night?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know if you’d like an excuse to mend fences. What better way than with pizza and beer?” Renee said.

I had made every attempt to make things up to Brooks after being a total asshole and kissing him for all the wrong reasons. Like the good guy that he was, he hadn’t held it against me, but I still felt a tension between us. We continued to exist in this complicated ebb and flow of discomfort and I didn’t really know what to do about it.

“He acts like a girl, anyway. With all the feelings and sensitivity and stuff.” Renee chuckled and I snorted.

“Yeah, I’ll text him.”

Hey, heading out for food and drinks. Do you want to come?

Only a few minutes passed before my phone chirped in my hand.

Sure. Time and place?

“He’s game,” I said, smiling.

“I told you he wouldn’t stay miffed with you. It’s impossible for Brooks Hamlin to stay away from Aubrey Duncan.”

I threw a pencil at my roommate. “Go and let me get ready,” I told her.

Renee laughed in that slightly forced way of hers. “Well, hurry up, I’m hungry.”

I laughed so hard I thought beer would shoot out of my nose. Brooks and Renee were trying their hand at impersonations, and Renee’s Pee-wee Herman was scarily accurate.

“This is disturbing on so many levels,” I said, once I was able to breathe and Renee had stopped to eat a spicy wing. She waved her hand and bowed slightly.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” she preened. Brooks balled up his napkin and tossed it at her, where it bounced off her shoulder and onto the floor.

“You’ve been hiding that one, Renee Alston. You’re a sneaky, sneaky girl,” he joked.

We had opted to get pizza and wings at a place not far from campus. By the time we got ready and out the door, it was already almost nine. The place was packed by the time we arrived and we were lucky to find a tiny table near the back.

Brooks had been slightly standoffish at first, but once he had a few beverages in his system he had relaxed considerably. Renee and I shared a pitcher of beer, and after an hour we were all laughing and enjoying ourselves.

“I’ve gotta pee,” Renee said after polishing off the last of her pizza. She hopped down off the stool, a little wobbly on her feet.

“Need help?” I chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “I’m fine,” she said, and headed toward the bathroom.

Brooks’s easy smile faded slightly as we were left alone in our awkwardness.

“Brooks—” I began.

“Aubrey—” he said at the same time.

We both stopped and laughed a little nervously.

“This is weird, isn’t it,” he stated rather than asked.

“Maybe just a little,” I agreed, sipping on my beer.

“I’m still kind of pissed at you,” he grumbled, wiping up a puddle of beer that had spilled from the pitcher.

“I’m picking up on that,” I said tightly.

Brooks looked at me finally and what I saw wasn’t anger. It was hurt. And that made me feel ten times worse.

“But I hate staying mad at you. It doesn’t feel right. Just promise me something,” he said firmly.

“Anything,” I promised.

He dropped his eyes to the slice of pizza on his plate. “Next time you kiss me, mean it.”

I swallowed my surprise, not sure what I should say. “Okay,” I finally said after a beat, giving him a small smile. His lips quirked upward in response.

“What’d I miss?” Renee asked, appearing beside me.

“Not much. Just listening to the frat guys at the next table talk about the waitress’s boob job,” I replied blandly.

I looked around the crowded bar and saw a familiar face looking in our direction.

“Hey, Renee, isn’t that Iain?” I asked, nodding my head toward the bar. Renee’s jaw tightened and her shoulders went rigid.

“Probably,” she said quickly.