Chapter Eleven

“If you could feel this pain inside, it's from the drinks we drank last night.” Azure Ray

I woke up groggy the next morning, in my clothes from the night before and a pounding hangover. I swallowed, feeling thirsty and nauseous I suddenly remembered everything: Javier, and Viv and James. I walked out of the bedroom to get water from the kitchen. I opened the fridge and saw all we had were grapes and some old cheese. We spent most of our money on booze and drugs and clothes, and we usually forgot to go grocery shopping. Andrew pinched my arm once a week and said I was turning into a skinny Hollywood chick. I pulled up my shirt and inspected my ribs in the mirror over the sink. I looked like shit. Gaunt, bony, pale and sunken eyed. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and looked away. I didn’t hear anyone else here, and was grateful. I dragged myself into the shower, and resolved to start eating some really fatty things, starting today.
After spending the afternoon napping and vomiting, alternating every few hours, I heard the door slam. Marie stormed in, obviously still upset.
“I told you she was a slut. I told you! James won’t even talk to me, he thinks I’m being a bitch. Who will be the bitch when she breaks his heart, because she’s a dumb slut!”
Her violent outburst made my head ache, but I had to agree.
“I mean, Jesus, she knew the rules,” I said, “what are we supposed to say to James now?”
“I’m not talking to her til she apologizes.”
My phone rang, and I checked the caller ID. It was Andrew.
“Hey babe.” I answered
“Hey, where have you been?”
“There’s a slight crisis.”
“Why don’t you tell me about it over here? I’ll order some food and put it on plates and everything.”
“Make sure it’s fattening and cheesy.” I ordered, laughing, “I need a few pounds.”
“Thank god, I’ve started feeling like a pedophile; you look like you’re nine years old.” He teased.
“I’ll be there soonish, you jerk.”
“Ok, M, I’m going to go. Call me if you see her, and tell me what happened.”
She nodded and went into her room, taking a few textbooks and a glass of wine. I took a few deep breaths and focused on Andrew.
I had a good time with Andrew and the boys, but the nagging thoughts of Viv and Marie and James and me swirled behind my chatter. Andrew was sympathetic, but he didn’t fully grasp it, I didn’t think.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. They’re both adults.” He maintained.
“But it’s James and there are rules!”
“Rules?”
“Yeah and Viv keeps breaking them. First Jason, and now this.”
“Who made these rules?” He looked at me like I was crazy.”
“I don’t know, Cosmo? We just know them. Your friends’ boys are Off Limits, and James is our mutual Guy Pal. If they date and break up, we have to take sides, you get it?”
“Kind of. I guess it makes sense. We have guy rules too, but that’s more like, don’t steal someone’s seat or beer, and Shot Gun works for the front seat of the car every time.”
“Those rules are stupid.” I smiled.
“Yeah, college guys are stupid.” Andrew said, half joking.
He did make sure that I stuffed myself on pizza and breadsticks, and his arm around me was comforting and solid. I felt bad that I was not fully there, but at least I was distancing myself. The ticking time bomb of him leaving me was still there, but I had bigger issues. I left around two, fighting sleepiness as Andrew drove me home.
When I walked through the door, the lights were on and there was no nudity of any kind, which I though was good, but then I heard a crash in the bathroom. I sighed. I was not in the mood for drunken hysterics of any kind. There’s always a girl who, when drunk, lets out all her rage and sadness that she tries so hard to conceal each day. These girls ooze messy emotion from their pores, and their tears gain strength, coming faster and faster until the reason they were crying dissolves, and the sobs take on a life of their own. We all tried so hard to be composed, showing our best faces, that occasionally, we crumbled and succumbed to our own weaknesses.
I walked to the bathroom, slowly, waiting to see the damage. I pushed the door open, and found Viv, crumpled on the floor, with a pool of vomit near her head, bottles of shampoo knocked off the edge of the tub, scattered around her.
“Viv!” I gasped, suddenly awake.
She was muttering to herself, obviously barely conscious. I knelt, one knee in her vomit, and I lifted her head. It lolled, her face slack and sick looking. I tried to drag her dead weight, but she was bigger than me, and my emaciated frame didn’t help. I propped her up, and ran to Marie’s room. She was sitting on her bed, reading.
“Marie! Viv is sick, she’s bad. What are you doing?”
She looked up with narrowed eyes.
“I’m not her babysitter.”
“That is so fucked up, she’s could’ve drowned in her own vomit!” I wanted to curl into a ball. The black cords were choking me, making it hard to breathe. I felt like the room was collapsing inward. I couldn’t do this alone, but Marie was gone, not helping, just letting us fall apart around her.
I went back and managed to pull Viv up and into the living room. I heaved her onto a couch, my body straining with the effort. I sat and watched her all night, dozing off restlessly, waking up when she moaned or vomited again. My mind was blank, focused only on the task at hand. I had to do that in order to get through this. I kept lighting up cigarettes and stubbing them out. I didn’t want to smoke, really, but I had to keep busy. I kept wondering where she had been, what had happened, and what drugs she had taken. I’d seen people like this before, and it usually meant a cocktail of drinks and prescription drugs, painkillers or Xanax. As the sun rose, I started a fitful investigation, first inspecting Viv for signs of…anything, really. I looked through her purse for slips of bar tabs, or bottles of pills. I found no clues to how this had happened, and that terrified me for some reason. Keeping watch of her had kept me focused, but now my mind swirled with possible scenarios. Had she been raped, violated? That is the ultimate fear of girls who partied like we did. I used to wake up with a start, trying to push away my hangover to remember details of the night before. When I pieced it together, the tightness in my chest would relax a bit. Sometimes I would inspect myself for telltale bruises around my thighs, or wrists maybe. I picked up Viv’s arms and checked her for the same signs now. She stirred and opened her eyes.
“Unghhh”
She was apparently incapable of speech. I hauled her up and led her to the bathroom. Helping her undress, like a child, I put her in the bathtub and turned the shower on. I cleaned up the vomit after, channeling my mothers obsessive cleanliness, scrubbing between tiles, running paper towels over and over in an attempt to wipe away all traces of the evidence. I smelled vodka and saw a few undigested pills. I had put a towel under the doorframe, as I always found steam to be helpful for hangovers. Something about sweating it out, I guess. It was unbearably hot, but I stayed, checking to be sure she hadn’t drowned. I stripped down to my underwear and bra, and sat on the floor against the sink. After a while, I decided she needed to explain.
“Vivian, what happened?” I said clearly.
“I was…out, with Tim and Lucy,” She mumbled, haltingly, naming some of our more satellite-type friends. “And then I came home, and Marie…was a bitch. So I drank…more and then took some Xanax.”
“You were out of line the other night with James, I hope you know that. But Marie… Jesus, she left you like this.”
I was angry. Angry at both of them, furious that I was the one having to clean this all up. I had my own problems; I did not want to deal with theirs. But their problems had become my problems somewhere in the past, and I couldn’t get out. What the fuck was I supposed to do with them?
We handled that incident as best we could: pretending it never happened. Marie and Viv weren’t speaking, as I had shamed them both into a détente. How could Viv hook up with James, and why would Marie leave her like that? I wondered why I was the only one worrying about these things. I found myself at 7 o’clock one night, sitting on my bed, fitfully chain-smoking, with the same reckless surge in my stomach. Our apartment felt like a war zone, filled with landmines of conversations we all needed to have. I called Javier.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Javier it’s me…it’s Jane” I realized he might not have my number anymore.
“Oh, bonita! Que pasa?”
“Want to get a drink?” I saw no need to beat around the bush.
“Of course, where?” I named a dive bar nearby, full of Boston patrons, not hipsters. Guys from Southie named Whitey, with shamrock tattoos and Red Sox caps. Javier agreed to meet me in a half hour.
I found myself getting ready meticulously, and stopped. What was I doing? I avoided my eyes in the mirror and continued to primp. Part of me needed to feel hard to get, because I felt so dependant on Andrew. To tune out the uncharacteristic silence of the apartment, I cranked up the Violent Femmes.
“I need someone a person to talk to…” I sang along.
I pulled on tight black jeans and put on my red pumps. I tied a white shirt at my waist, channeling the pink ladies from Grease. It felt good to dress up in costume again. I felt like I was buzzing with electricity.
“And Marie just left her there!” I was drunkenly retelling the past few days events to Javier a few hours later.
He nodded along to my explosive speech.
“You need to sit them both down, I am thinking. And tell them that you don’t want to be a liaison for both of them and their bad behaviors.”
That made sense, I had to admit. I sucked down the rest of my gin and tonic. I was enjoying being with him. It was easy, and the added bonus of having control over him was good. I felt out of control in every other aspect of my life, so it was definitely nice.
“I have to go, but I’ll call you this weekend.”
“Of course.”
I hugged him good-bye, keeping a respectful distance.
As I walked home, I thought about his advice. I decided I was going to sit them down as soon as I walked in the door, while I still had the courage brought on by drinks and a little sexual power.
I walked in the door, dropping my purse on the floor. I looked up, and was startled by the sight of Viv and Marie sitting together in the living room talking. They looked at me and stopped talking suddenly. I got the nagging feeling I had back in junior high lunchrooms, when you know people were just talking about you.
“Where have you been?” Viv smirked.
“I was…”
Marie cut me off.
“We know you were with Javier.” She said, meanly.
“Yeah, I was. We just hung out and had a few drinks, what’s the big deal?”
They looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure.” I wanted to smack that grin off Marie’s face.
“What about you two? Nothing happened with Javier and I but you two have been behaving horribly!”
“Whatever.” Viv rolled her eyes.
When had I become to villain? I was shocked. This was the most ludicrous accusation possible. And them. Jesus, did they forget what they had been saying about each other? I wanted to tell them exactly what I thought, but instead I just sat down and decided to just… pretend I wasn’t hurt, upset or angry.
“Javier and I just talked. Seriously. Anyways, what are you two doing?”
“Just chilling, homieeee.” Viv drawled.
I rolled my eyes, but smiled.
“Besides the pungent smell, why do I suspect a little pot usage?”
“However did you guess?” Marie giggled.
I picked up my phone as it buzzed.
“Hey babe.” I answered
“Hello lovely lady.”
“You are a nut, Andrew. Want to come over, smoke some pot and make out with me?” I loved teasing him, and I felt relieved slightly to just talk shit with him instead of all the loaded words with the girls.
“That sounds amazing. I’ll bring the guys, ok? Hey, invite James, I haven’t seen him lately.”
“Andrew, you know… remember?” I looked sidelong at Viv to see if she heard, but she was busy taking a hit.
“Shit, right. Sorry. See you soon.”
I relayed the information to the girls, and they seemed to perk up. It was amazing how ganging up on me made them forget about Jason. I wondered, fleetingly, if they would keep talking to me when Andrew and I broke up. They certainly liked the boys more than me right now, I was sure.
When they boys showed up, I was so happy for the distraction.
“Mmm, hey babe.” Andrew nuzzled my neck. I leanded into his chest, smelling his distinct scent. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
“Yeah.”
We walked into my bedroom. He didn’t seem like he was dumping me so what the fuck?
“Jane, this year everything I’ve wanted for the band has happened, I’m graduating. Everything. And I have you. And I love you.” His lopsided smile when he said that brought tears to my eyes. I had been with my ex-boyfriend hours earlier, and he didn’t know that. He didn’t know what a horrible person I was on the inside, he wouldn’t love me if he saw my insides. I imagined my organs as rotting, blackened and corrupt.
“I love you so much.” And when I said it I teared up, because it was true. I loved him so much, it hurt me to know that I would lose him.
“I want you to live with me this summer.”
“What?” My stomach lurched. ”You need to stop springing this sort of thing on me, you know that?”
“Please?”
“Okay, Okay,Okay!” I pulled him back onto my bed.
He pulled my shirt up gently, kissing my clavicle. I shivered. I unbuttoned his pants quickly. He was going so slowly and I just wanted him to hurry up. After he removed my pants achingly measured, he spread my legs apart and stroked my stomach as he put on a condom. He eased into me, torturing me with exacting motions, kissing me deeply. I had known I loved him and that I had just been afraid, and we had sex like it was for the first time. I let myself pull my wall down, and gave all of me. I whispered “I love you I love you I love you” and he whispered back “I love you too.” In his slow, easy way of speaking. After he finished, I made him stay inside of me, wanting to know we were this close, that he was really mine.
We returned to the group, and they were having some stoned conversation about the nature of time.
I felt like the wall between Andrew and I had shifted, and now included both of us. I saw Viv and Marie exchange looks, I’m sure about how I was so happy with Andrew when I had been with Javier. But they didn’t get it. They wanted me to be distanced from Andrew like they were distanced from their various relationships, I knew it. I was becoming one of those hipster couples we hated. Fuck Viv and Marie.
“So like, the girl had painted vaginas on the heads of all the girls in the picture!” Viv was telling some of the more amusing final projects of her art seminar.
“I’m glad I don’t take art classes,” Dave deadpanned, “I only take creative writing courses where everyone tries to write the next great American novel, and ends up writing F.Scott Fitzgerald Clift Notes.”
“Isn’t that just a Bret Easton Ellis novel?” Jason asked.
“If I have to write another paper about the role of women in, I don’t know Wuthering Heights or Dorian Grey or any Austen novel, I will scream.” I added.
“Then you shouldn’t have taken Women in British Literature!” Andrew laughed.
“It sounded a lot less heinous on paper.” I countered.
“Well in my classes,” Jason started.
“NO! no no no!” We all screamed. Jason was a math and physics double major. We never got his stories about string theory or whatever it was they talked about.
“Jason, at least you are Marie are always the hottest people in your dork majors. But then, Marie is the only person.” Viv laughed.
“And we go back yet again to your classmates use of genitals in every project they do.” Marie shot back.
“I wonder what they will do for jobs,” Colin mused, “Professional wee-wee drawer doesn’t look too good on a resume.”
“You guys have the weirdest job,” I pointed out, “Half unknown hipster buzz band.”
“And your job is official groupie.” Dave laughed.
“I resent that! Plus you’re telling me you’re parents are all cool with it?”
“My dad inspected my veins for track marks.” Colin said. His sense of humor matched Viv’s in inappropriateness sometimes.
“Mine told me I was never getting a loan.” Dave shrugged.
“Whatever, I’m going to work at like, Starbucks or the Gap.” Viv rolled her eyes. “I have no life training.”
“I have life training, I just don’t want to use it.” Jason said, “Can you imagine me working at an engineering company? Or doing hedge funds.”
“I don’t even know what a hedge fund is.” I remarked.
“Yeah all you know is Trust Fund.” Marie joked.
“Right, like you are on scholarship or something.” I shot back. Everyone laughed. The boys had long since given up on understanding all our upbringings. I had to explain my grandparent’s estate three times, and then provide photo evidence for Dave to believe me. We all turned our wealthy upbringings into party anecdotes, filled with charming stories about Viv’s mom’s plastic surgery exploits, or Marie’s parents’ tribal drumming class in the Village. The only way to acknowledge things like that was with an eye roll, similar to Vivian saying she wasn’t prepared with life skills after two years at one of the most prestigious colleges in America. The glow I felt that night, sated and loved, is my favorite memory of that time. Perhaps because the next events that happened were succession of bad things turned worse.