The Art of Being a F*ck Up - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Remember when I said I can only really feel the bad stuff? Turns out that's more true than I thought, and all the worst things coming together at once—like some cosmic convergence—only helps drive the point home, exactly to where it hurts. I guess that's better than feeling nothing at all though, right? I'm worried about Bill, I still have no clue what actually happened to him, and while I genuinely thought about going up to check on him myself, I decided to heed my dad's warning. I'd say he doesn't scare me anymore, and in my head I maybe even believe it, but the heart is not so easily fooled. A lot of that boy I used to know five years ago continues to live in me, which is something else that's more true than I initially thought.
I used to be such a coward before, and while I'd long since thought I'd outgrown it I can't help but doubt that after just one encounter with my dad. It shouldn't stay with me like this, it's virtually no different than any of the other mean shit he's said to me my whole life, but it's still harder to shake than I care to admit. At least it doesn't tear me apart, like it used to, so maybe I should be grateful for that tiny step, no matter how small. Plus I could just be down in my feelings, you know, between Bill and my dad and Jonah and Maddy and exams and this hideous knee brace. The amount of introspection it takes to pinpoint the exact trigger is exhausting so I don't bother. Instead, I make for Jonah's dorm after I'm finished with my classes.
"Brent, hey, I'm happy to see you. Do you want to come in? Be careful, it's kind of cluttered right now so watch your step." Jonah's eyes get big when he answers his door to see that it's me. He leans precariously over the aforementioned clutter obstructing the door from opening all the way to grab my collar and pull me in for a kiss. It's not the sleep thick in his voice, or the disheveled hair that I notice first—it's the smile he wears that's been absent for weeks.
"Cluttered is an understatement," I trail off, stepping around the photos strewn across the floor to follow him into the room, watching as he straightens out the stack of pictures on his nightstand. There are some on the bed too—everywhere, really. I missed having him tucked under the covers with me yesterday, I struggled getting off to sleep without him in my arms, but seeing all this I have my doubts that he slept much either. "I thought I should probably check on you when you didn't come over last night. Did you even go to class today?"
"No, uh, I meant to, but I got a little sidetracked. I came back to grab some fresh clothes because Devin told me I was starting to stink—like seriously, who does that even—but then I got to looking at my portfolio and it hit me." He grins wider, excited. How I've craved to see that beautiful sight since the funeral, and it's almost enough to dispel all my own worries until he reveals the source of his joy. "I'm going to enter the competition!"
"Competition, like the one in New York?" We'd only talked about it so briefly that I forgot all about it, but when he brings it up now it rushes back to me about the contest and the internship and him leaving the state.
"Can you imagine me going to New York? Bram would freak! I owe him one for pushing me to enter, I just wish I'd started sooner. There's still a couple months before the deadline so I think I can make it if I work really hard—even if it means barricading myself in here." Daydreams fill Jonah's head, already pulling him a million miles away. I can't tell if it's because I'm still buried in my emotions or what, but the idea turns my stomach despite being nothing but abstract at the moment. "What do you think?"
"About what? I think anything you come up with will be okay." I don't want to lie to him, mostly since I feel like I'm probably being irrational. Things are hard for me too, but even I know the answer's not to run away. Am I overthinking it? I get that there are some things we don't talk about—like how I don't say anything to him about my dad on account of how bad I know he hates him—things that would only do more harm than good.
"Okay? That's not going to cut it, hundreds of people will be submitting their stuff, I have to be more than okay if I'm going to win." Jonah seems happy, that's literally been my whole goal since we came home. Who am I to question it? He meanders over and puts his arms around my waist sweetly, "I owe you too, you know. Thank you for being so understanding about everything, I guess I've just been all in my head since my mom. And I honestly wasn't sure about any of this, but then I thought about how you wanted me to enter, and, well, it means a lot that you believe in me."
"You really want to do this?" Nothing changes exactly, but I force myself to look at it rationally. Of course I want Jonah to be happy, and hell yeah I believe in him, so what's the hold up? For now I tell myself that the chances of anything coming out of this silly competition are slim, but it'll be a nice distraction for him doing something he loves. Maybe that's what I need to find for myself, and again my mind wanders back to the journal in my desk. Then I come back to reality, and compromise with only a small, white lie. "Then I hope you kill it. Seriously, you're going to be great, Jonah. No, sorry—you'll be perfect."
"Aw, you really are the best boyfriend."
"I know, that's why you love me."
"Is that so?" His grin outgrows his face before he presses his lips to mine. Whatever new worries I may be adding to my pile are far outweighed by when we kiss and I discover it feels just the way it's supposed to. There's no sadness, no need for comfort, it's only an expression of our love and I can't deny how awesome it is to be his hero again. That comes with the same perks it always has, and he grabs the front of my belt while he taunts me flirtatiously, "and here I thought I only loved you for one thing."
"Well, that too." A laugh escapes me and I tease him back, running my hands down his sides. God I've missed this, and being here with him makes the rest of the world fade away like it always does. I kiss his neck next, "how long do you think we have until your roommate gets home?"
"Not long enough for that." Jonah laughs too, pulling back slightly. "Next time though, I promise, for sure. Besides, I've already missed class and I don't think I should push my luck by asking my boss to get someone to cover my shift again. Don't you have to be to work anyway too?"
"I guess." I respond, disappointed. He hesitates.
"But I was going to take a quick shower before I head out, I wouldn't say no if you wanted to join me." There's a twinkle in his eye when he thinks he's being so devious, like fooling around in the dorm shower isn't something half of the kids at this college have done. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I'm eager to jump at the chance all the same, and after we get all hot and steamy I walk with him hand in hand to the campus bookstore. We part ways with another kiss, and I wait until he's not looking anymore before I backtrack to the frat house.
There's no way in hell I'm going to work, the guys there might not want to get in the middle of anything, but one of them had at least had the courtesy to shoot me a text saying that Bill's not back yet. My dad's there though. I can imagine him getting all settled in like he runs the damn place, yet the terrifying truth is that in my uncle's absence he sort of does. I can't avoid him forever obviously, but I'm hoping that if I wait a day or two then maybe Bill will get out of the hospital so I can go back without having to worry.
I've got enough of those as it is. I know why I wouldn't have told him about my dad, but if Jonah had come over last night, I wonder if I would've told him about Bill at least. My dad slipped up and said he was sick, which granted could mean a lot of things, but I immediately think about all those days he came in late, or left early, or didn't even show up at all. What if that didn't have anything to do with my dad after all? Chances are I still wouldn't have said anything to Jonah about what's bugging me, I'm so relieved to see him getting back up out of this depression.
It's like, tiny baby steps for him too.
On my way home I put some thought into how I'm going to spend my evening playing hooky. Devin's always down to hang out, or I could even waste the whole night studying to catch up for exams, but I'm not really feeling either of those options. Yet again I think about the journal in my desk drawer, about challenging why I decided to major in English in the first place, but the more I think about it the more I realize what I actually want to do is drink. There's a six pack in the fridge with my name on it that I tragically don't think I'll get to, because when I get close to the house I see a familiar face waiting for me on the porch step.
"Are you here to yell at me? I know you're mad but I've kind of got a lot on my mind, so can we just skip the part where you pretend to be all righteous? For once?" What else am I supposed to expect from finding Maddy sitting out here? It feels an awful lot like an ambush, especially when her only answer is to take a deep breath before staring at me. I get impatient, "what, have I already screwed this up?"
"Can you maybe give me a minute, please? I'm trying so hard to be nice to you but you're making it extremely difficult. This, all of this," she beckons to my entirety, "it's too much—you're too much."
"I'm sorry?"
"You should be, that date you set up was an absolute travesty, and I had a whole list of hilarious insults to pay you back with," Maddy pauses, thinking of her list fondly, "but then I heard about your uncle. So yeah, this time you get a free pass."
"You heard about Bill? How?"
"What? From this ugly bitch in my dorm who's sleeping with one of those losers from your garage, that's not the point, ham hands. Pay attention." Her eyes threaten to roll back into her head as she stands, grappling with herself to say whatever it is she came to say. I don't rush her now, which seems to help, "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about it, okay? I'm around if you ever need to talk or whatever."
"You came all the way over here for that?" It sounds meaner than I intend when I say it, something her face makes clear note of, but I'm just surprised. Underneath all that spite and sarcasm is that big heart I've always known her to have, and it looks like maybe, for the first time since we agreed to this thing between us, there might be something other than the scars. I clear my throat, "that's actually really nice of you, Maddy, thanks. I only meant I wasn't sure where we stood after everything. Did you get my present?"
"I figured that was you, trying to buy my forgiveness after subjecting me to that herpes-riddled warthog." Whatever it is, that something else between us, she seems receptive to it too, so much so that for a second she forgets just what we are to each other and smiles. She's a lifetime away when she speaks again, taken back through five years. "Gummy bears and cashews, my favorite. I can't believe you remembered."
"The only sweet and salty combo that matters," I return her smile, remembering much more than how she used to grossly mix the two. I remember a lot of things. Funny, how like with my dad she may hate me now, but there were still these moments, these glimmers, that I loved. We weren't going to work out as boyfriend and girlfriend, but when everything happened the way it did, and we stopped talking, it felt like I lost a friend. It's hard knowing what she feels, because in the blink of an eye she sobers up as if suddenly recalling how things are supposed to be for me and her.
"Anyway, the gesture was appreciated, but that's not all I came to say. Meet me in the student center tomorrow so we can start working on exam prep." For effect she reaches over tentatively, her hand hovered awkwardly above my shoulder before she pats it quickly a few times.
"You sure?"
"Don't get it twisted, I'm only looking out for myself here. I still need you to find me a decent guy."
"Ah, of course not, I wouldn't dream of it." While I don't doubt for a second that she maintains her own motives, I know it's more than that. I've known her for forever, she can't fool me. Maybe that's why I can't fool her either, but for now this is just another of those fine lines we have to straddle until some of the hurt goes away. I'm learning that baby steps are okay sometimes, so I scoff and settle into our usual routine. "As long as you help me pass these exams."
"Well one of those things is way easier than the other, but I'll do my best." Right on cue Maddy takes the shot, but I still catch that last, fleeting smile she allows herself when she bends down to grab her purse before leaving. The universe wants to realign and I consider that not everything is hopeless, but one good chat with Maddy, and Jonah, isn't enough. I think about the beer in the fridge, and about my dad and Bill, and how I won't play football again or how my grades are hanging by the thinnest thread, and all the rest that I still can't fix, and it's enough to spur me inside to have that drink.