Falling Into Us (32 page)

I called Kate, who picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, Kate. I…I came down for the weekend, and Ben says you left.”

She laughed, but it was bitter and mirthless. “Is that what he says? What else does our dear Benjamin say?”

I was confused as hell at this point and just trying to make sense of it all. “That it was about cigarettes. He said you’re gone and he’s lost without you. He said he was clean when you left him.”

She made a sound that was part sob and part laugh. “That’s the bullshit lie he’s feeding you, huh? Don’t you know any better than to believe an addict, Becca? He’s
using
.”

“Using? What is he on?”

“I found cocaine in his car. But of course it wasn’t his, oh no, he was holding it for a friend.” She was clearly devastated. “I begged him to just tell me the truth and we’d get through it. But…it’s not enough that he quits for me. He has to quit for himself, or it’ll never work, no matter how much I love him.”
 

“He’s a mess, Kate.”

“I know!” she wailed. “Don’t you think I know that? I watched my father do this same exact fucking thing ten years ago. He OD’d on coke. He died right in front of me. Ben
knows
this. He knows I cannot and
will
not watch anyone else die because of drugs.
I
was hooked on coke. I nearly died, okay? For three years after my dad died, I was hooked on that shit. I OD’d just like him, but I didn’t die. I got help, and I haven’t gone back. I
won’t
. Not for anyone. I thought…I thought if I did what he did, I’d understand why Daddy left me. I’d understand why he couldn’t stay alive for me, why he abandoned me.”

“God, Kate. I never knew.”

“Of course not. You think I tell people this shit? No, it’s depressing. I’m alive. God gave me a second chance at life, and I’m not gonna waste it this time. I won’t watch Ben kill himself, no matter how much I love him.” She sobbed again, then composed herself with a few deep breaths. “Sorry, Becca, but I have to go. My shift at the hospital is starting.”
 

The line went dead, and I was left staring at the cracked concrete and the smoldering butt of Ben’s cigarette.
 

“Babe? What’s going on? Where’s Kate?” Jason plopped down on the step next to me, then saw the tear on my cheek. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”

“Kate’s gone. She left Ben…because he’s back on drugs.”

“Shit.” Jason scrubbed his hand over his face. “That’s not good.”

“No.” I leaned against him for support. “Ben says he’s losing the apartment. I’m—I’m worried about him. I’ve never seen him look so depressed as he was just now. He’s angry. I don’t know. I have—I have a really bad feeling, Jason.”

Jason didn’t offer empty reassurances; he just sat with me until I felt ready to figure things out.
 

We stayed in the apartment that weekend, but Ben only came back once in the three days we were there, and he stayed in his room the whole time, filling the apartment with the acrid stench of marijuana. I tried to get him to come out and talk to me before we left, but he cracked the door enough to hug me goodbye and that was it.
 

I grabbed lunch with Nell before we left town for Ann Arbor, and that at least was an uplifting moment in the weekend. She seemed stable, if not happy, and she willingly showed me both forearms. She was wearing a dress with short sleeves, her wrists not covered, all the scars old and white.
 

“I haven’t cut in a long time,” she told me, sipping on a milkshake. “It’s not something that ever just goes away, and I can’t promise I won’t cut again, but I’m doing better.”

“I’m so glad, Nell,” I said. “You don’t even know how happy that makes me.”

She smiled at me, stirring her milkshake with her straw. “So, I’m moving to New York in a few weeks.”

I coughed, choking on my Coke in surprise. “You’re—you’re what?”

“I’m finally moving on with my life. I’m going to NYU. I’m going to try and get into their college of performing arts.”

I wiped my lips with a napkin, then dabbed at the droplets of soda that had stained my T-shirt. “The college of performing arts? What? I mean…what do you perform?”

“Guitar. Singing.” She shrugged, as if this thing I didn’t know about my best friend was no big deal.

“You play the guitar? Since when?”

“Actually, you inspired me to try it. You said there had to be a better way to cope, and so I found one. I’ve been taking guitar lessons from a guy in town for almost two years now. I play and I sing. Just for myself, so far, but I’m going to try busking in New York.”

“Busking? What’s that?”

“Those guys who sit on the street and play with their guitar cases open? That’s busking.”

I frowned. “Oh, okay. But…okay.” I was stunned; I hadn’t seen this coming. “So you’re going to New York? In, like, a couple weeks?”

She nodded, and I could sense real excitement in her, subdued, but still there. “Yeah. I won’t just get into the college of performing arts, though. You have to audition and stuff, and it’s competitive. If I don’t get in, I’ll try other stuff. Music management maybe. I don’t know. I just know I wanted to move to New York a long time ago, and now I’m going to. I’m feeling like I finally might be able to live on more than a day-by-day basis.”

“So you’re…like, okay?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess? As much as I’ll ever be, I think. It still hurts, every single day. I think about…about him every day. I miss him. So much. But…I’m tired of being here. Maybe a change of scenery will help. Like, if I’m someplace where no one knows me, knows what I’ve been through, I can sort of start over, you know? Be someone new.”

I wanted to tell her that your problems tended to follow you, because they were inside you, but I held my tongue. I’d be a stutterer no matter where I lived, and all I could do was accept that fact and be content with who I was despite it. Jason had helped me with that, although I’d never told him so. He’d accepted me, loved me despite my stutter, and hadn’t minded when I stumbled over my words, or hit blocks because I was nervous or excited. Knowing he loved me regardless of my speech impediment was a huge part of my ability to speak fluently now. I was confident in who I was, and I knew that my impediment didn’t define me. If I stuttered, I slowed down, moved past it, and kept going, and didn’t let myself get embarrassed about it. That was the thing, I’d realized: When I got embarrassed over a stammer or block, it turned into vicious cycle. I’d be embarrassed, which would make me stutter, which would upset me, and make me stutter worse.

“I can’t believe you’re moving to New York,” I said. “I’m going to miss you so much!”

She smiled at me, equal parts happiness, sadness, and affection. “Oh, Beck. Me too. You’ve always been there, even when I wasn’t a very good friend. It’s not like I’m leaving forever, though. I’ll be back for holidays, just like you. We’ll see each other again soon. It really won’t be much different than now, except you can’t just pop down for the weekend and see me.”

We’d finished our lunches by this time, so we paid the bill and left, standing in front of our cars, which were parked side by side.
 

She smacked the side of Jason’s truck above the wheel well. “Jason is still driving this thing? He’s had it forever, hasn’t he? It’s got to be about dead.”

I laughed and rubbed the truck where she’d hit it. “Be nice to his truck. I love this thing. He’s had it since he was sixteen. I told him I’d cry when he replaced it. But yeah, it is dying. He just replaced the brakes, and now the snake belt is going, or something like that. Snake belt? Serpentine? Something. I don’t know. Another part needs fixing. At some point, it won’t be worth the money to fix it.”

“It’s the serpentine belt. I watched…” She paled and blinked hard, then forced the words out. “I watched Kyle replace a serpentine belt once. On the Camaro.”

“Well, whatever the hell it’s called, he’s gonna spend more money to fix that part, and then I’m guessing something else will break. We’re gonna have to buy a newer car soon, I’m thinking.”

“We.” Nell said it with a sigh and a wistful lift of her lips, not quite a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“You. You and Jason. You’ve been together for how long now?”

I grinned. “More than four years.”

“You have a ‘we,’ that’s all. I’m happy for you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I’m pretty lucky, I guess. I mean, I
know
I am. I’ve been so fortunate. He’s awesome.”

“Are you guys living together?”

I jangled my keys, shaking the ignition key loose. “Yeah. Since August. It’s…well, it’s great.”

“I bet. What’s it like? What do your parents think?”

“My parents hate it. They think we’re rushing it. But they’ve learned to accept it, as much as they ever will.” I shrugged again, knowing I was making her think of all she was missing out on. “It’s great. It’s an adjustment, in some ways. It’s really, like…it makes you realize you’re an adult. Living in a dorm is just fun, you know? You don’t have to worry about bills or rent or whatever, and there’s always people around, all the time. People you know, who you’re in classes with or see at football games. In an apartment, you’re responsible for it. Jason and I have to pay rent and utilities and keep food in the house and all that. Plus, it’s not right there on campus. If you’re late, you’re extra late. You can’t just rush out in your comfy clothes and slip into class—you have to drive there and find a spot to park…. Plus, living with a guy is…different. The whole leaving-the-seat-up-thing? It’s real. I fell into the toilet just the other day.”

“Eeew!” Nell laughed. “But you’re with him all the time. You can do whatever you want with him, whenever.”

I giggled. “That’s the best part. Even just going to sleep with him and waking up with him…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep alone again.”

Nell ducked her head. “Think you’ll get married?”

I swallowed hard. I’d had those same thoughts myself. “Probably, eventually. I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”

“Do you want to? Marry Jason, I mean?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I want to be with him forever, so I’m guessing we’ll get married someday, but it’s just not come up.”

Nell smirked at me. “But you’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Of course you have. You’ve been with him since you were sixteen.”

I nodded. “Well, yeah. Of course I have. But I want to graduate first. We’re together, and there’s no rush to change things, you know? We just turned twenty-one. Maybe once I’m working on my graduate degree we’ll talk about it.”

“What’s Jason going to do after he graduates?”

“Play pro. He’s got scouts from New Orleans, San Francisco, New York, Kansas City, and Dallas looking at him.” I frowned, knowing there was one more he’d told me about. “Oh, and the Patriots, that’s the other one. New England.”

Nell seemed shocked. “He’s really getting scouted by the NFL?”

I blinked at her. “Nell, he holds national receiving records on both the high school and university level. He’s one of the best players in the NCAA, and he thinks he’s got a chance at a first-round draft pick.” I’d learned a lot about football over the years I’d been with Jason.

Nell, not so much. “Is that good? The first-round thing?”

I snickered. “Yeah, it’s good. It means he’d be one of the first people chosen to play for their team. The draft thing is complicated, and I really don’t get it all, but being first-round draft pick is a big deal.”

“So he’s really good.”

“He’s fucking
amazing
.” I was proud of my man.

Nell laughed at my vehemence. “Well, then.” She sighed and leaned in for a hug. “I should go, Becks.”

I pulled her against me, holding her hard. “I’ll miss you. Even if you’re all the way in New York performing, you can still call your BFF, right?” I shook her playfully. “We’re kind of fighting, you know. I can’t believe you play the guitar and I didn’t know.”

She shook me back. “Nobody knows. It’s not a secret—it’s just something I do for me, because it helps me cope. I can play and sing and not think and put all my emotions into that instead of needing to get it out…some other way.”
 

I hugged her and watched her drive away, knowing it would be months before I saw her again.
 

*
 
*
 
*

Becca

April 9th

 
I yelled a hello into my parents’ house and received silence in reply.
 

Since Jason and I lived in an apartment now, we weren’t going home for the summer after finals but were finding jobs to supplement our savings for our senior year. For Jason, it was a second job, and for me, it was something other than tutoring, since the program wouldn’t really need me in the summer. I’d settled on answering phones at a local law office, which was boring as hell but paid enough to be worth it. Jason was still looking, but had a line on a position with a landscaping company.
 

I poked my head into Father’s office, found it empty, and Mom’s as well. This wasn’t surprising, since they both often worked late. Ben should be home, though; his car was in the driveway. He’d moved back in with our parents after he’d lost the apartment, and I’d heard from Kate that they’d been trying to work things out, but it wasn’t going so well. She was worried about him again, since she hadn’t heard from him in several hours. He was still working at Belle Tire, but he’d resigned his position as assistant manager, going back to changing oil since it was less responsibility. A wise decision, I thought. The problem was, I had called Belle Tire before swinging by the house. He hadn’t shown up for his shift at nine that morning, and it was three in the afternoon. Kate had sent me a text asking me to look at my parents’ house for him

Cool conditioned air washed over me, and I heard the faint
tick-tock-tick-tock
of the grandfather clock in the den. My skin crawled, but I couldn’t identify the reason. Nothing was out of place. The kitchen was spotless, nothing was missing, the front door had been locked, and the patio and garage doors were locked as well. I licked my lips and tried to calm my breathing as I searched the main floor, finding everything in place. I made my way up the stairs, avoiding the creaking tenth step by habit. The door to my old bedroom was closed, and I went in. My old bed was there, made, an old quilt laid across it since I’d taken my favorite set of sheets and blankets with me to college. My dresser, now bare of knickknacks, and the desk, empty but for a Starbucks mug full of pencils and pens. The closet was closed, empty upon checking. No posters anymore, no pictures, nothing. No Ben, either.