‘I don’t think that’s something to joke about,’ he responds from his side of the sofa.
‘Neither do I. Believe me, I take it very seriously.’
He hangs his head because he knows something has shifted. I’m not the same person who fell asleep on his chest last night or the girl he rescued three years ago. I’m the person he met two days ago.
‘What would you do if your sister told you she wanted to die?’
‘This is not the first time someone has asked me that question,’ I reply immediately.
‘What would you do?’
I shrug and turn away from him so I don’t have to see that look on his face.
‘Please answer the question.’
‘I don’t know. I’d . . . I’d . . .’
‘You can’t answer that truthfully, can you? You’ve been so honest with me the past two days and now you want to start lying to me? After everything I’ve shared with you?’
I turn to look him in the eye and address his accusation. ‘Yes, after everything you’ve shared with me, I still want to die.’
‘That’s not what I said. And, fuck, I still want to die sometimes. I understand that. I don’t understand the lack of honesty. I’ve already told you that I’m not going to make you do anything. I’m not going to make you go to breakfast with me or call your parents or check yourself into a mental hospital. Your body and your mind are yours. Do you understand that? Do you believe me when I say that?’
‘But they’re not mine. They haven’t been mine since the day I started taking meds when I was fourteen. And people just continue to remind me of this. My body and my mind, anyone’s body and mind, belongs to whoever feels like owning it, whether it’s a bunch of fucking perverted assholes or a board of assholes in white coats. I will never have full control over my body or my mind as long as my parents have the power to commit me and the state has the power to drug me. Do you understand now?’
The muscle in his jaw twitches as he nods. ‘Yeah, I understand.’
I look down as I feel a surge of emotion rising inside me. ‘So that’s why I can’t stay, no matter how I feel about you or Meaghan, because neither one of you can give me back my life.’
He reaches forward and grabs my hand off my knee. ‘How do you feel about me?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘I won’t make you talk about it, but . . . can you please consider telling me before . . . you know?’
Looking up at him, I’m taken by the hopeful expression in his eyes. ‘I hate you,’ I begin. ‘I hate the way your lip curls up when you’re confused. It’s sickeningly adorable. I hate the way your arms are so fucking strong. It kind of scares me.’ He smiles and I take a deep breath, trying to keep from crying, but it’s so hard. ‘I hate that your smile makes me want to cry and I don’t know why. I hate that you know how to look so together on the outside when you’re screaming inside. I hate that you always know the right thing to say. I hate the way that I already know what you’re thinking just by the way you’re looking at me.’ He wipes the tears from my jaw and I close my eyes. ‘I hate that you saved me. But, most of all, I hate that you love me because now I love you and I don’t know how to make it stop.’
He pulls me into his arms and I try not to think of the new suicide note. Instead, I think of the song he’s going to sing for me tonight. It won’t change the fact that if I go home, I’ll be committed. But maybe Crush will work a marriage proposal into tonight’s performance. Then Crush and I can get married and we can have that stupid power of attorney nullified.
Nope, I don’t have rape fantasies. I have courtroom fantasies.
Chapter 30: CRUSH – January 5th
I hold onto her tightly, stroking her hair to calm her. I know it must have taken great courage for her to say what she just said to me. And I hope I’m not being foolish in thinking that I can fix this.
I know I can’t fix Mikki, but I think I can get her to change her mind about killing herself. I just have to figure out a way to prevent her parents from committing her. The thought of going behind Mikki’s back to contact her family makes me sick. I need her to contact someone who can convince her parents that she’s safe, as long as she’s with me.
‘I love that you love me,’ I whisper in her ear.
‘I hate you, too. Don’t forget that part,’ she replies with a loud sniff.
‘I love that you hate me, too. Both of those emotions require a lot of energy. Don’t make me go all Harvard on you and tell you the scientific difference between loving and hating someone.’
She laughs and her breath tickles my neck. ‘Please do tell.’
‘Basically, love and hate activate similar circuits in the brain, but hate also activates the circuits used for rational thought. Which means, when you hate my adorable lips, you’re thinking quite clearly, unlike when you think of how I love you and you turn into a pile of irrational mush. In other words, you love me with all your circuits.’
She tilts her head back to look at me. ‘I love you with all my circuits . . . I like that.’
I plant a soft kiss on her chin and she smiles. ‘So do I.’
*****
I don’t bother with a cab this time. I’ve hired a car to take us to get some dinner at Toro, a tapas restaurant in South Boston, then it will take us straight to the club and back to the hotel. I don’t want Mikki to be recognized any more than she does. I want us to spend this last night together without any interruptions. If all goes according to plan, I’m hoping that after I perform for her she’ll be willing to call someone to talk to her parents. I don’t want to think of what will happen if I’m wrong.
We arrive at Toro at 6:30 p.m. and the place is pretty packed considering it was snowing just a few hours ago. You’d think most people would want to stay inside and snuggle up under the covers with a book or a loved one. But this place is buzzing. It probably has to do with the neighborhood. With the revitalization of South Boston, this neighborhood is slowly becoming hipster central. Recently, it’s become a breeding ground for trendy eateries and hangouts. I brought Mikki to Toro because I doubt that most of the people here watch local news. They’re probably too busy listening to NPR and browsing Pinterest.
‘For two?’ the hostess asks with a phony smile.
‘Yes,’ I reply and she leads us to a long community dining table in the center of the restaurant adjacent to the bar.
We scoot in about six feet from the end of the table until we’re sitting across from each other and next to two strangers; an older couple. Mikki looks a bit uncomfortable and, though I don’t want her to get wasted, I’m thinking a couple of drinks might take the edge off.
‘You want something to drink?’ I ask and she raises her eyebrows. ‘I know you said you’re a beer girl. They’ve got some great IPAs and imports here. But they also have some great cocktails.’
‘I’ll have whatever you’re having,’ she replies, picking up her menu to examine the offerings. ‘See if we’re on the same circuit.’ She’s quiet for a moment then she gasps. ‘Oh my God, there’s bone marrow on this menu.’
The woman sitting on her right throws her an annoyed sideways glance, so I glare at her, unimpressed with her snootiness. ‘It’s pretty far from Brockton and the airport. And I know you’re not a big meat eater and this place serves mostly meat dishes.’
Mikki looks up from her menu, confused by this information, then it finally dawns on her that I brought her here because no one would look for her here. ‘Oh . . . How sweet.’
The woman must think we’re even crazier now, but I really don’t give a shit. I reach across the table, grab Mikki’s hand and bring it to my lips, laying a tender kiss on the W tattooed on her middle finger.
‘I’ll always look out for you,’ I say and she rolls her eyes.
‘So chivalrous.’
‘They have some good meat-free dishes. Do you want me to order something for you?’
‘Please do. We all know I’m not capable of making sound decisions on my own.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘I know, I know. Just order me something,’ she says, waving off my explanation. ‘I’m trying not to take my life too seriously for the next four hours. That is how long this date is going to last, right?’
‘More like three hours and forty-nine minutes, but who’s keeping track?’
‘Good, cause I have a feeling it’s going to be a real tear-jerker. Nice to get a break from those every now and again.’
‘Speaking of tear-jerkers, do you want to finish reading the book tomorrow before the flight?’
‘The flight?’ I open my mouth to remind her, but she cuts me off. ‘Oh, my God! I forgot to tell you. When you let me use your phone to call the airline, they told me our flight might get pushed again. They said a lot of the flights from Newark were being rerouted through Logan and to make sure to check the status of the flight online before we head to the airport. She said it should be updated within twenty-four hours before takeoff.’
I let go of her hand and quickly pull my phone out of my back pocket. Sure enough, the flight has been pushed back two more days to 9:15 a.m. on January eighth. Shit!
‘What’s wrong?’ Mikki asks, seeing the disappointment I’m unable to hide.
‘Nothing. I just have to see if I can reschedule the appointment with Kane.’
‘You can’t reschedule. They’ll think you’re one of those spoiled rich boys who thinks everyone should do whatever they want.’
‘I have no choice.’
She shakes her head in mock disgust. ‘If you’re so rich, why don’t you just charter a plane to get there?’
I sigh as I tuck my phone into my pocket. ‘Because I don’t want to.’
‘Why? Are you one of those rich boys who likes to purposely make his life difficult just to spite his parents?’
Fuck. She hasn’t even had a drink and she’s already taking this conversation into uncomfortable territory.
‘Look. I didn’t charter a plane because I wanted to have some coffee with you after the flight was canceled. Then . . . well, as I’m sure you’re aware, things got complicated.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Her face lights up and her eyes widen. If we were cartoons, there’d be a light bulb flashing over her head. ‘You can charter a plane and you don’t need a plane ticket for that . . . Can you take me to L.A.?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
The waitress arrives to take our order and deliver our drinks, but Mikki doesn’t acknowledge the waitress or the beer in front of her. Her eyes are locked on mine awaiting my answer. I spout off the food order then take a long swig of beer, trying to give myself time to think of any response other than, Because I don’t want to help you kill yourself.
‘I can’t charter a plane to L.A. because my dad has people who monitor my spending. Chartering a plane will raise a red flag. He’ll ask me what the trip was for, and I don’t want him to know anything about this trip to L.A.’ She lowers her head, looking so disappointed. ‘I’ll be honest. I’m sorry that you’re disappointed, but I’m not sorry that I can’t help you with this. And, if I’m being brutally honest, I think you’d be even more disappointed if I agreed to help you.’
She leans forward and sighs as she rests her cheek on the heel of her hand, looking totally bummed for a moment, then it’s gone.
She sits up straight and smiles. ‘Can I sit with you on that side?’
‘Don’t get up. I’ll come to your side.’