He feels it too, the tension in the car is too thick and he rolls down the window, letting the December air in. The cold makes me feel alive, and I roll mine down a bit too. He plugs his phone into the aux cord and asks me to turn up the music. We sing a little too loud to each song that plays. Punk rock is odd in a way. The way the beats get our heads moving, lifting our spirits. But if I listen to some of the lyrics, they're fucking depressing. It's like a magic trick—a lie.
Just like me.
I'm a fucking punk rock song.
I don't deserve Cooper. The kid is way too good for me. When we get home, he sits down at our small kitchen table with his homework, and I climb into bed. He doesn't ask questions or give me sad looks. He knows I need space. So much so that he takes it upon himself to make grilled cheese for dinner. Mine sits untouched on a paper plate on my white plastic nightstand.
I keep asking myself the same question over and over. What part did I fuck up? Was it saying yes to Mateo to start with? Or was it keeping it from her? Would she be this mad at me if I'd been honest? I don't know the answer, but I also don't think I want to know, because I'm not sure I'd like it.
Tears slide down my cheeks, falling to my pillow.
I'm begging you not to let any of this destroy that.
I asked Mateo to remain a constant in Cooper's life. I begged him.
But what will that look like if Addie never forgives me? I wasn't expecting it to end like this. I expected him to move back to Baltimore or us to start seeing other people.
My emotions are haywire, flipping from anger to sadness to disappointment with every thought. I can't seem to regulate them, and I hate that the two people who I trust to help me navigate it all, aren't in my corner anymore.
I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. My choices are my own, but that doesn't stop me from blaming Mateo right now. It's all his fault. Fucking friends with benefits. Fuck him. What a stupid fucking idea.
My phone lights up with another notification. I haven't looked at it since I walked out the Hayes' door. I'm not even sure what time it is. The apartment is dark, but winter lies. Cooper went to bed earlier, but that could have been hours or minutes ago. If winter lies, time is an illusion.
According to my phone it's one a.m.. Who is blowing up my phone? I want it to be Addie. Regardless of my other feelings, it's her I want to hear from. A text from her would mean she could forgive me, even if it's not right away. I can live with that. She's the best friend I've ever had. The friend who shows up and keeps showing up. It doesn't matter we've been friends less than a year. Besides Coop, she's the most important person in my life.
Addie's name is probably the only name in my contacts not flooding my notifications. There're texts from people I haven't talked to in months, years even. I don't read them. I can't bring myself to. Like I can't bring myself to google Mateo. I'm afraid of what I'll see. How bad is it? Most of the texts and missed calls are from him. I delete them without reading, and mute him, like I should've muted him two months ago. I'm strong, but I'm not strong enough to block him, not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Chapter thirty-seven
Mateo
Ikeep waiting for life to stop, but it keeps passing me by, and I'm simply going through the motions. Wake from a restless sleep, coffee, shower, stretch, text Jade. Get ignored by Jade, contemplate the rest of my life and what it looks like without her, try to talk to Addie. Repeat.
It's not good.
Addie still refuses to talk to me.
Jade refused to talk to me.
The part that sucks the most…I deserve their silence.
But it doesn't make it hurt any less.
Raised voices from the kitchen drift through the closed bedroom door. Sounds like Addie's finally broken her silence. She's been giving Mom and Dad the cold shoulder for days, avoiding all of us.
"And you kept it from me," Addie yells as I enter the kitchen.
Mom stands, leaning back on the counter, her lips in a thin line. Dad sits on a stool at the end of the island, his hands clasped together, leaning on the granite.
"They didn't know," I say from behind Addie.
"Shut the fuck up." She turns to me, and I try not to laugh, because if she were a cartoon character, steam would blow out of her ears. I didn't think it was possible for her to be angrier than the day she found out, but here she is.
"Adelaide, honey," Dad says.
Addie spins on him. "Don't do that. Don't use my full name like I'm the one in the fucking wrong here. You all know I'm not."
