“With the helmet, only going to the park and back, and no speeding.” I quickly voiced my willingness to the terms, anxious to tell you.

“Alright, but let me tell David.” I couldn’t help but grin.

The stench of bleach greeted me before I hit the second floor, making me cringe.

Rounding the corner, it grew. Then I saw you, sitting on your feet, washing the walls.

Washing the walls.

I should really thank Kyle for sending me that warning, otherwise I probably would have made some wise ass remark and asked what in the hell you were doing. Instead, I knew I had my work cut out for me.

Taking a deep breath, I walked in trying to feign confidence. I have never intentionally tried to hurt anyone’s feelings before, but I’ve also never cared that I had so much as I did in that moment. “Are we okay?”

You looked up at me, and the same brown eyes that had just been dealing me advice in the garage widened with surprise before narrowing and turn back to the wall. I remember you were wearing a navy blue T-shirt with a school bus yellow sneaker that had wings across the front. It was easily one of the gaudiest shirts I’ve ever seen, and yet I wanted to see you in it every day.

“Are we okay?” You heavily enunciated each word, warning me you were pissed off.

“I haven’t seen you since Dante’s.”

Your blond hair was pulled up in a knot, and it bobbed slightly as your shook your head, and dove your hand in the bucket of bleach that I prayed was diluted because you of course weren’t wearing gloves. “I’ve been busy, you’ve been busy.”

“I haven’t been busy. Did I do something?” I knew you were pissed. I wasn’t trying to be a dense asshole with my questions. You just weren’t providing me with much on what exactly had made you so pissed at me. Just the call? Or everything?

As I stood up and got closer to you, you began scrubbing the molding, refusing to look at me. “No, of course not.”

“Do you want to go get something to eat?”

“I’m busy right now.” You still wouldn’t look at me, which only made me step closer. Pushing your comfort levels a little more in hopes that you’d talk.

“Scrubbing the walls?”

“Why do you care?”

“Why are you upset with me?” For a second I thought you heard the plea in my tone and in my words because your eyes finally flickered my way, but left just as quickly.

“I’m not upset with you.” Your tone was hard, contradicting your words.

“What are you, then?”

“Busy,” we said it in unison, do you remember? Even our tones were similar, each filled with irritation. My head was shaking and nodding at the same time with the level of frustration I felt toward myself and you.

“I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me what it is.”

Your eyes remained down as you shook your head again, and I knew you weren’t going to talk to me, but I tried one last time. “Is this about Felicia? Because I’m pretty sure you’re still dating Eric.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, hating myself for being impatient again.

“No, we’re friends, Max. Friends don’t see each other every single day. There’s nothing weird between us.”

“Alright, I’m not going to push you to talk to me. But when you’re ready …” I hoped you understood what all I was saying as I stalked across your room and pulled the window that looked out across to mine as far open as it would go. “… you have my phone number, you can call me, text me, send me an SOS, throw a damn rock at my window. Hell, I’ll leave it open so when you’re ready you can just yell to me, but don’t push me out, Ace. You don’t want that either.”

I knew there was no chance in hell you would follow after me. But I sure as hell hoped you would.

By Sunday I was tired of waiting. I decided to take a page of my own advice, and take what I want. I resolved that I was taking you to see the Pretty in Pink movie that looked boring as all hell when I finally remembered the name of it, because I really couldn’t have cared less what we were doing. I wasn’t waiting anymore. I was going to lay it out there and be your motivation.

When you finally kissed me, weeks after the movie, the ruse was up. Come hell or high water, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you because in that single moment, my desire to be around you went from difficult to control, to a completely unattainable addiction.

I feel like I’m stuck. I have no idea what to do to get things moving again. I’ve been making more of an effort to see Ace lately, still staying with my mom so I can be close to her. This past month has been difficult, far more than I had feared. It feels like every day I lose another piece of her, of us, and it scares the hell out of me.

A few days ago I had returned home from Ace’s to learn from Muriel that she’d gone to San Diego to get some things without even telling me she was going. My mom was sitting at the dining room table when I returned. She apparently sensed my unease and frustrations and told me, “You can’t fix other people, Max. They have to do it themselves.” This sort of terrifies me. My mother still seems to be fixing herself and it’s been over ten years.

Hearing the doorbell ring, I head upstairs and am slightly relieved to find Ace standing outside my front door. This is the first time she’s come over to see me since our entire space issue evolved before David passing.

“Hey.” My voice reveals my surprise as I push the door fully open.

We stand there in a moment of awkwardness that seems to be our norm lately. I’m not sure if I should lean forward and kiss her or try to hug her; our greetings, like all time we spend together lately, seems strained and foreign.

Ace stands rigid. It’s as though I can hear her body pleading for me to not touch her. She’s abstained from physical contact from nearly everyone, unless it’s forced upon her, and when that happens, she looks like a wild animal, ready to run.

“Hey,” she says slowly.

“Do you want to come in?”

Ace shakes her head. Her blond hair is tied up in a knot, and she’s wearing a sweatshirt even though it’s too hot to be comfortable in a T-shirt today. “No, I just wanted to come by and tell you something. I feel like you deserve to be the first to know my decision.”

My heart thunders in my chest as I try to keep up.

“I’ve decided I’m going to transfer. My dad had a really good friend that owns a medical lab. I can work there as well as maintain classes, and the lab will give me additional credits. It’s a really great opportunity because most have to have their masters to work there, and obviously I don’t have that, but he’s allowing me to come and see how things go on a trial basis.”

“A lab? What kind of medical lab?”

“They do all sorts of things, but it’s geared around trying to understand diseases and cures. They don’t base it on drugs. It’s all about being able to curtail issues or permanently fix them.”

“That’s amazing. Will you be staying at your mom’s, then? Or is it close enough to San Diego that you’ll keep your apartment?”

Her eyes fall to the ground, and my muscles constrict. I’m about to lift her face so I can better understand what’s going on. The need is nearly desperate as I watch her head shake and then find her eyes back on me. They’re filled with an emotion that I can’t translate, and my whole chest begins to burn.

“I broke the lease with my apartment. I’m going to get a new one … in Delaware.”

“Delaware?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m leaving in the morning.”

“What? No. You’re not doing this.” My head shakes vigorously as if in an effort to dispel the words that are now being screamed in my mind. “You’re not running from me.”