Finding Dell (8 page)

“You sure know how to pick ’em, Dell,” Natalie said. “Cheating is the worst thing you can do in a relationship. It’s a shame you keep attracting cheaters.”

A wave of anger came over me. I stuffed the towel into the dirty laundry bag hanging from a hook in my closet and let out a long, measured breath. Maybe I was displacing my anger at finding out about Cam, but I wanted to walk over to Natalie, put
my hands on her shoulders, and shove her as hard as I could. The smug, superior way her voice grated when she tried to deliver Zen wisdom but ended up being passive aggressive overshadowed everything else in my mind.

I held my arm at my side to hide my trembling fist and pulled the sheets down on my bed with a violent yank. I climbed into bed and reached behind my head to grope for my iPod on my desk, shoving the headphones into my ears with unsteady fingers. Natalie resumed typing on her computer, so I turned up the volume loud enough to drown the sound out and clamped my eyes shut. I felt a tear slip from my eye and stain the pillowcase, and even though I hated Natalie at that moment I knew I was most angry with myself.

Cam’s behavior mirrored Will’s, and I was the one who’d allowed it to happen.
Once there’s a pattern it’s not a coincidence
, I thought. I felt like I was spinning into a lonely panic.

It was too late to deny that Will broke my heart, but I could avoid it happening again if I didn’t speak to Cam anymore.
I’ll choose loneliness over heartbreak
, I thought,
because being alone can’t be worse than this
. I didn’t feel like a powerful hurricane at all. I felt brittle and weak after Will’s betrayal.

Through the daytime-bright lights and music that sang the soundtrack of my failed relationship, silent tears fell on my pillowcase until I fell asleep on the mattress stuffed with old photographs.

CHAPTER 9

A TRAIN RUSHED
down the tracks that lined the Pass and sent a cyclone of litter swirling into the street. Twice a day, the train stopped in Bridlemeade after leaving Cincinnati, on its way to Louisville, then Memphis, and finally Baton Rouge.

Natalie and I were taking the long route home from the bookstore, following the Pass until it curved near Magnolia Banks Lake. Natalie shifted her tote bag to her shoulder and sighed.

“Why do my animal science textbooks have to be so expensive?” she complained. “I’ve been thinking I’m really interested in equine therapy. Seneca doesn’t offer any classes on it, but I could get involved if I worked on a ranch that has a program after I graduate.”

Natalie was engrossed in the idea of a program that treated emotionally disturbed children by engaging them in therapy by riding and tending to horses. She heard about it from one of the seniors at the stable a few days ago and had been romanced by the idea since.

“Where would you find a program like that?”

“Oh, probably out west. Montana or maybe Utah.”

“If you meet someone here at school and you fall in love, would you stay in the Midwest?”

Natalie sighed. “For the right guy, I would. Midwesterners just have more heart than the guys in San Diego. They’re real, they’re genuine.”

I frowned as I listened to Natalie. She might appreciate genuine guys, but she had started to morph into an artificial parody of the laid-back California girl she once was. She now favored a heavily made-up look. Maybe it attracted guys like Jesse, but, to me, it screamed of a desperate insecurity that was new to her.

“Besides, this is horse country,” she continued. “I could see myself living in Louisville or Lexington after I finish an equine therapy program.”

I sighed. “I’m losing faith in the idea of finding the right guy in college,” I said. “Thought I already found him.” I swallowed hard to bury the lump in my throat.

“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way,” Natalie said. She pulled the tote bag off her shoulder and held it in front of her chest with both hands to relieve the burden on her neck. “Think about Alex for a minute. Yes, he’s outspoken and enthusiastic, but he needs affirmation from others before he believes something. That’s why he’s always trying to make people confirm that they’re friends with him. He hides it by being assertive, but really he’s insecure.”

“Are you sure you’re not a psychology major?”

“A psych major would say that your attempt at diverting my train of thought means you’re avoiding the truth. And the truth is, Alex wasn’t begging you to label your relationship last year because he felt secure with you. I think you really upset him when you questioned what you had together,” Natalie said.

“But it’s not like we dated last year,” I protested. “What I had with Alex wasn’t anything like what I had with Will.”

“You’re right. Will faked a future with you. And Alex respected your happiness enough to leave you alone while you were dating Will.”

I bristled at Natalie’s flippant tone—
faked a future, faked a future
. Her phrase caught in my heart and spread through me like a poison. I desperately wanted to prove her wrong.

I threw back my shoulders to raise to my full height. I was taller than Natalie and suddenly that seemed very important; it was the only thing I had over her when she broke me with her biting words.

Faked a future, faked a future

“So where were you that night?”

“Which night?”

“The night of Dean’s party,” I said. “I needed you, but you weren’t there.”

“I was with Jesse.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” I observed. My voice had a bite to it and I wondered if Natalie detected it. Until I spoke the words aloud, I didn’t realize I was angry. Not only did she abandon me that night, but she had thrown salt in my wound by easily falling into a relationship just as mine collapsed.

“We have fun together,” she said. “There is one thing, though.” She hesitated and shifted the books in her arms again. “It’s probably too soon to say this, but every time I’ve seen him, we go to a party or to the bar.”

“He only wants to see you when he’s drinking?” I asked, a hint of a sneer in my voice.

“We just started classes so he’s probably just letting off some steam before football season gets intense,” she said, excusing his
behavior. Then her voice grew wistful. “I just wish he’d take me on a real date.”

“No one dates in college. Is there even a nice restaurant in town? The Pass just has bars and take-out food. You’d probably have to go to New Cabell just to find a real restaurant.”

“We’ll have to go on a date eventually if I’m going to stay in the Midwest for him after I finish my program,” she said.

“Before you leave behind your California roots, you should spend time with him sober first.”

Natalie tilted her chin to the air and tried to throw back her shoulders under her armful of books. She was quiet as we turned onto Douglas Drive and I wondered if I had taken it too far.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch, Dell,” she said finally.

“I know you’re not mad at me about what I just said. It’s more than that.”

“Please explain my own feelings to me, Dell. Tell me why I’m mad at you,” she said. She tried to make her voice sound like she was indulging a child but it cracked with fury instead.

“Ever since things ended between Will and me,” I said, avoiding the words
“break up”
because I still didn’t want to admit it, “you act like you’re angry at me all the time. It’s my problem, not yours. You don’t have to make things worse.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Natalie stopped walking and I turned to her reluctantly. This was a conversation that was easier to have side-by-side than face-to-face.

“It’s my problem, too, Dell,” she started. “We’re roommates. Your breakup with Will ruined my year, too.”

“How?” I demanded.

“You know how Dean called you a hurricane? For me, you’re a cloud. A heavy, dark cloud. And I never know when you’re going to burst. Like right now.”

“You’re jealous,” I spat.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“I might not be with Will anymore, but I still don’t want to spend time with you and you resent that.”

Natalie snorted a puff of air from her nose and started walking again, without another word. I followed her, but with her short, angry stride and my long legs, we kept the same pace.

Brick by brick, a wall formed between us. In the penetrating silence, I wanted to backpedal and tear down the wall’s foundation, but there was something in the focused eyes and haughty point of Natalie’s chin that kept me silent.

Bernie stood in front of her door at the end of the hallway and waved her long arms theatrically above Helen’s head.

“Madeleine! Get your ass down here,” she called. “We need you.”

I glanced at Natalie. She wiped sweat from her brow and shifted the bag of books in her arms once again. The walk home from the bookstore had taken achingly long. I wasn’t looking forward to more forced silence in our shared room.

“Dell! Come on!” Helen shouted.

Natalie hugged her books to her chest and turned away.

“Are you coming?” I asked reluctantly.

“They didn’t ask for me, Dell.”

She held her shoulders back and stood tall as she walked away and I realized she was steeling herself for a breakdown. Part of me wanted to grab her arm and pull her toward the girls, to show she was included. But after our walk home, I felt the distance grow bigger as I let her walk away. Helen disappeared back into the room when she saw me start walking toward them. Bernie ushered me inside with a sweeping motion.

Bernie and Helen’s room looked like a clash between a
boho hippie and a southern princess. Gauzy jewel-toned fabrics announced Bernie’s side of the room; it looked like I’d stepped into a global bazaar—a world away from the baby pink comforter and furry pillows that punctuated Helen’s bed.

Ruby was sitting with Helen in the middle of the floor as Helen struggled with an unwieldy pair of scissors, maneuvering her good hand to cut paper into tiny strips while Ruby sat with her back hunched, feverishly writing on the scraps.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked.

“It’s a ritual. A celebration, really. And no celebration is complete without a proper drink. Here,” Bernie said, handing me a shot glass of vodka. She nodded her head and mimed tipping back the shot.

“What are you celebrating?” I took the shot and grimaced when Bernie began to fill the glass again.

“Ruby broke up with Nicholas!” Helen squealed. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink. “Bernie’s leading us through a ceremony to cleanse Nicholas from Ruby’s life. The hardest part of a breakup is always the desire to backslide, but it’s not enough to delete his number from her phone. She has to do more to get him out of her brain.”

I eyed the scraps of paper littering the floor. “So what do the papers say?”

“His phone number,” Ruby said. “Each one has his phone number or his name, and after I make enough, we’re going to flush them all down the toilet.” Her accent was especially thick, as it always was when she was emotional.

“It’s epically symbolic,” Bernie said solemnly.

“What are the shots for, then?”

“Because . . . shots!” Helen cried.

She dropped the scissors on the fluffy rug and started to scoop up the papers with one hand.

“Follow me. I’m fixin’ to start the ceremony. Any more paper and we’ll make a clog, anyway.”

We followed Helen and crowded into the tiny bathroom to stand seriously around the toilet.

“Are there any words I’m supposed to say, or do I just dump the pile in the toilet?” Ruby asked as she looked at Bernie expectantly.

Bernie glanced around our faces, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “I didn’t break up with Nicholas, so I can’t tell you what to say. Just say and do whatever comes to your mind and it’ll be the right thing.”

Ruby faltered. “I think I need another drink.”

Helen whooped loudly and returned to the bathroom with the half-empty bottle of vodka. Ruby took a swig and we cheered her on. She wiped her lips and took the slips of paper from Helen.

“For every time you never called me back,” she said as she let a scrap float from her hand.

“For every time you made me cry myself to sleep. For every time you made me think I wasn’t pretty enough without makeup, and every time you conveniently forgot your wallet at home so I had to pay,” she said, picking up speed. “For every time you made excuses about texting other girls, and every time I laid awake instead of turning off the volume on your TV, just because you couldn’t sleep without it blasting.”

Ruby was shouting now and the papers were freefalling from her hand, some landing in the water and some around the base of the toilet. Bernie clapped loudly, a syncopated rhythm to the poetry of Ruby’s ritual.

“For every time you said you’d go down on me if I did for you first, and then you were too tired!”

Helen screeched loudly in the tiny space.

There was a hesitant knock on the bedroom door and Helen looked up, startled. Bernie waved her back and ignored the knock, but it grew louder and sharper.

“Christ! Can’t we perform a breakup ritual in peace?” Bernie stormed to the door and threw it open with a clatter. “What?” she barked.

When the door flew open, I could see Levi’s mohawk edging around the corner.

“Oh, shit.”

“‘Oh shit’ is right. I could hear you shouting and talking about taking shots through the door when I walked by, and obviously I can see the evidence sitting right here on the rug.” Levi sighed. “I’m on duty. I have to write you up. I don’t want to have to do this any more than you want me to, but I have no choice.”

“Levi. Levi, Levi, Levi,” Bernie said. Her voice was cajoling as she looked down at him from behind her huge glasses. “You don’t have to do anything. You always have a choice.”

“You’re clearly breaking the rules. I’m writing you up.”

Helen groaned next to me. “My poppa’s gonna kill me,” she whispered.

My heart raced. I never got in serious trouble, but if I got a drinking ticket my parents would be so angry with me. I could imagine hours of lectures and if they could find a way to punish me from 500 miles away, I’m sure they would do it.