The Art of Being a F*ck Up - Chapter 30: Chapter 30

Today's a new day, and even though it seemed like maybe I didn't have any other options it still feels cruel that I made myself come back here, back to this apartment where I used to live. Maybe that's well deserved, I don't know, it hurts too much to think about for too long as I lay on this lumpy, threadbare couch and stare up at the ceiling. The paint is peeling, which is fitting, because when I lived here before I was coming apart too—little by little, so slowly that nobody could really even see it happening. I guess that's what happened with me now, again, so many little things that didn't seem so big on their own that just started adding up until they were strong enough together to do this kind of damage.
Jonah had came along, back then, to save me from coming undone. I still remember the day he tracked me down here, how much anger and fear and desire that was swelling inside me that very first time I kissed him. I tried to rationalize that away too, it's a habit of mine, I've never been good at facing my reality. I don't know if I ever will be but Jonah's not going to save me this time, he can't, not when he's the one I have to fess up to. After I woke up this morning and finally turned my phone on I saw the million missed calls I had—from him, Devin, Maddy, even Lilah.
When I leave here all hell's going to break loose, it's my reckoning, and I can't put it off any longer. I wish I could hide out for just a few more minutes, even if I have to do it here, but then this apartment's not so bad when my dad's gone. It's Sunday so he's not at the garage, who knows where he ran off to so he didn't have to bother with me. Why would he care though? I'm shocked he even let me stay last night, and while I can't really remember anything he said, I have no doubt he had a number of mean and spiteful comments. At least he had the decency to cover me up, to get me this pillow, so I guess in whatever pathetic way this is his attempt at being the decent father he's always thought himself to be.
I think about leaving him a note, but what would I say? Thanks for teaching me the only way to deal with my problems is to drink? Instead I break my silence by sending Jonah a text—just one text to tell him I'm okay, and that we need to talk. My mind's the clearest it's been in days after the bender I've been on, and I stop to consider popping a few Aspirin before I go but I open the fridge in it's place, drinking just one beer because I know it's the best way to make all of this go down easier.
When I'm finished I hop the bus that'll take me closest to home, ignoring the buzzing of the phone in my pocket. The end will be here soon enough, it doesn't need any help from me. I'm desperately praying that maybe Devin found loyalty in our friendship after all, that he didn't tell Jonah, or at least, that he didn't tell him everything. If I can't just bury it down like all the other bad stuff then maybe I can still somehow find a way of explaining it that won't sound so awful, that will leave me with a shot at fixing this thing that's been broken.
As soon as I get off the bus I walk right back to campus, straight to Jonah's dorm before I can chicken out or change my mind. My hands are shaking and I can't swallow this knot in my throat, and I'm far beyond scared of losing the only thing that's ever meant anything to me, but I can't run anymore. I finally get close enough to see Jonah, standing outside the door to his building, his face drawn taught as he speaks quickly with someone. Even from behind I can recognize my best friend, and my heart—already thumping erratically in my chest—only beats faster. Devin's supposed to be there for me, even when I fuck up.
I stop before I'm in earshot of them, debating on whether I should intrude or run the other way. But then Jonah sees me, and instead of his face lighting up the way it has a thousand times before, he taps Devin on the arm. In return Devin twists around before we lock eyes, uttering something lowly to the man I love. Then he walks over cautiously.
"What did you say to him?" I ask slowly, feeling my hands balling into fists instinctively.
"Where've you been, man? We've all been worried, we've been up all night. Let's go inside, we can take a minute and—" Devin reaches out, a patronizing tone permeating his words. It only pisses me off that much more and I smack his hand away before he can finish his sentence.
"I'm not going anywhere with you, tell me what you said." Now I'm more aggressive, up in his face as I demand answers. It's his fault that Jonah's standing over there afraid to come closer, instead of running to me like he usually would. With all the girl's Devin's blown through how can he be so righteous, since when did he develop a conscience? I made one mistake—one—and he can't give me a shot to make it right on my own? He's a goddamn traitor.
"You really want to do this? Because I don't think I'm the one you're mad at." Without faltering he pushes himself up to be taller, growling in response to my advance.
"You went behind my fucking back."
"I didn't do shit, you better walk away, bro." The familial sentiment sounds threatening now when he says it.
"Don't push me." I warn.
"Or what?" Devin pushes me. When I push him back harder he acts surprised that I would retaliate, but the initial shock only lasts a second before he grabs onto me and we start to struggle. I've never been in a fight with him before, which is lucky for him, because he has no idea what he's gotten himself into.
"Cut it out! This isn't helping anything!" Jonah finally decides to engage, stepping down from on high in hopes of stopping the scuffle. After Devin manages to pull out of my grasp I swing on him, but he just ducks before slamming into me. I'm vaguely aware of Jonah still trying to get in the middle of us, yet I ignore his vain attempts as I grapple Devin and try to get him into a headlock. I succeed, but when I go to get in a few good hits I realize Jonah's holding my arm back, and I shake him off violently to get free. In the process he apparently takes an elbow to the mouth and falls to the ground, breaking me from my anger for just a moment as he looks up at me. "What the hell, Brent?"
I hurt him. I've been doing nothing but hurting him and I'm still going, I don't know how to stop. The look in Jonah's eyes right now scares me more than anything else, as if he's looking at someone he doesn't recognize. I let go of Devin and search for something to say—anything—but there's no excusing what I've done. Things were already bad before I came over here, I shouldn't have bothered no matter how much I needed to face him. I've always only destroyed things, why did I think I could be capable of anything else?
God I just want a drink, to forget about all of this and fall asleep for a while. Maybe I'll go have one, or a few, or maybe I'll go back to my dad's. Doesn't really matter where I end up but I just can't stay here, so I fumble with some sort of pitiful apology before I leave. Neither of them try to stop me, though I guess I don't know why they would, as I decide to make my way back to the frat house. I'll get some clothes together, pack a bag, and find someplace to lay low for a while until I can figure out what to do.
It would be a solid plan, except the universe isn't done with me yet, even on my worst day it still thinks I need to be punished for every bad thing I've ever done. That's what this has to be—all that bad karma coming back around—because it's the only way to explain Maddy waiting outside on the steps again, looking much the same as she did the night before last. I don't engage her though, I plow right passed her into the house, but still follows suit like she's going to find anything other than disappointment here.
"I've been trying to call you, why are you ignoring me?" She whines. Does she even hear it? All the respect for her that's been growing for months is gone with the snap of a finger when she's right back to acting like that insecure cheerleader I knew so well.
"I don't want to talk to you." I answer callously, already well over capacity.
"God, don't be a jerk." Maddy continues, pursuing me up the stairs and into my room. She had been so strong no more than a week ago, seasoned and wiser from the rough couple of years she endured. Is one night with me really all it took to turn her back into this? How in the world, after everything, do I still have that kind of power over her? "What did I do to make you treat me like this? I'm on your side."
"Who are you trying to fool? My side? You're only looking out for yourself, Maddy, you're always looking out for yourself."
"You know damn well that's not true."
"Then what the hell are you doing here, huh? Because I know it's not just to check up on me." I drag the duffle bag out from under my bed and start filling it.
"I told you I care about you." Her tone almost reeks of desperation. "And I totally understand if the other night didn't mean anything, all I need is for you to tell me—"
"It didn't mean anything!" It bursts out louder than I meant to, but it's so frustrating and I turn to look at her. "I already said that but you weren't listening. Do you need me to say it again? Let me be clear, I don't think of you like that. I will never think of you like that!"
"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear," again her feelings are hurt so easily, "but this still happened and I just want the truth, because I'm having a hard time understanding why you would pull something like this on me. Again. You can't just play with people's feelings like this, Brent, you can't!"
"What do you want from me? I'm human, and yeah, it shouldn't have happened but I was drunk, and sad, and it wasn't like you pushed me off—you're not innocent here. You could've stopped it so what's your fucking excuse?"
"Why are you being so mean?" She says quietly, her lip quivering. How did she get like this? Once upon a time I cheated on her and that must've sucked, but could one mistake from so long ago really cause so much damage? Is this really the reason she can't trust people, or find a stable relationship? It changed her, I know that, but did it really ruin her? Is she ruined?
"I'm not, I'm being honest like you wanted." I never wanted to hurt her either. Not then and not now, but she should know better than anyone that I've only ever destroyed things. So my intentions don't matter, because I still can't stop. "And you still being in love with a guy who dumped you five years ago is just sad. You're pathetic."
She slaps me, hard. The impact rings clear in a now quiet room as she fights back tears, all done with surrendering pieces of herself.
"I've forgiven you for so many things," Maddy begins again, tempering herself so that she can speak evenly without becoming too overemotional. "But this? It's the last time you break my heart. I guess I was wrong about you—you really are a bad guy."
What would be the point in denying it when we both know it's true? She was warned, I tried to tell her that she should take heed, to run the other way, but she stayed. She got too close and saw with her own eyes what I really am. I glare at her, toughened up and resilient, nothing she can do now can faze me while I wait for her to leave. After she finally accepts that there is nothing for her here she makes for the door, but when she pulls it open we're both stunned to see Jonah standing outside of it.
"Jonah, I," how do I explain this? Apparently I'm not as resilient as I thought, because when I see him there I start to fall apart all over again.
"Devin told me everything after you left. I just came to check on you, to say I didn't believe any of it. But," the anger will come, I'm sure of it, but for now he's only hurt, the kind of hurt that goes so far beyond betrayal that there's not even a word for it. He's like me though, he doesn't know how to explain it either, so instead he asks, "did you sleep with her?"
"Don't bother asking him, he doesn't have the balls to tell you the truth." Refusing to be ignored, Maddy reinserts herself, speaking with a frailty that might make anybody else underestimate her.
"Shut your fucking mouth, nobody asked you!" I surprise myself more than anyone else when I yell inhumanely at her, but she only glares back at me. She's wounded, but it's my turn to know better, she's never been the type to find someplace to curl up and die. Jonah, lost and heartbroken in the middle of my mess, is at her mercy when she takes her revenge.
"He won't tell you, but I will." She gives me something I can recognize when she returns to being a force, a hurricane, the gasoline to my open flame. I should've known if I pushed her she would only push back harder, that she would find a way to make me bleed, to make me suffer like she thinks she's suffered. Even if that means burning whatever I may have left to the ground. "But believe me, it's worse than you think. Let me tell you about the other night, about why he kissed me. I'll tell you what really happened with your little competition, and all about the time he got me pregnant. I'll tell you everything."