Senior Semester: All The While Part 12

Holed up in the library the next few nights, I'm desperate to finish my a.s.signments and catch up in my cla.s.ses. After every few pages I manage to read, my thoughts wander back to Maura. I know she's been hurting, it's been obvious, but the drinking? The partying? The wild nights out that cause her to attend practice drunk and disheveled? I know, just know, that's not who she is. Adrian would be going ballistic if he was here. But then again, if he was here, I doubt she would be lashing out like this. Still, I meant what I said. I won't lose her.

Man, the way she met my gaze when she told me about her captain wanting to drug test her, the open, naked truth shining in her dark eyes almost rendered me speechless. She trusts me so much, and I can't-won't-do anything to mess that up. She needs me. And in a way, I need her too. It feels liberating to talk about Adrian with someone else who really knew him, to connect with someone on a deeper level. To talk about more than just rowing and cla.s.ses like I do with the guys. To have more than just a physical chemistry like I had with Lauren.

Then she asked me about Lauren and I could see the curiosity coloring her eyes. On the one hand I'm disappointed that she thinks I would be stepping out, hanging with another girl if I had a girlfriend. On the other hand Maura is just my friend and obviously sees herself that way. It's not like I can't have any female friends if I'm dating someone. Still, I hang on to that curiosity in her eyes. Was she asking just to be nosy? Or was she asking because she really wanted to know what the deal is between Lauren and me?

I toss down my pencil, noting I've barely made any notes on the diagram I'm supposed to be studying. Frustrated, I run my fingers over my hair, pulling it back and securing it with a hair tie at the base of my neck. Taking a swig from my Starbucks cup, I lean back in my chair. After a few minutes of staring into s.p.a.ce, I push away from the table, grab my cell phone and, leaving my books and laptop behind, head into the hallway.

My sister picks up on the third ring. "Fancy hearing from you at this time of night. Shouldn't you be at a party, enjoying your senior year?"

"I wish. I'm in the f.u.c.king library."

She laughs, part in amus.e.m.e.nt, part in glee. "Poor thing. All those big words keeping you from going out with the boys?"

I scoff. Nicole is such a pain in the a.s.s.

When I don't say anything, her teasing trails off. "What's going on?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. "I don't know. I'm restless, annoyed."

"Maybe you just need to take a break from studying. Call it a night and go home. Your books will still be there tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Silence ensues as I wait for Nicole to infer all the things I'm not saying. We're not twins, but man, sometimes I swear we could be. She reads me better than anyone in the world.

"Hmm, something else is bothering you. And, knowing you, it's a girl. I thought you ended things with Lauren? She changed her Facebook status, in case you were wondering."

I smile in spite of my frustration. "I wasn't, but thanks for the update."

"So what gives? Your head's tangled up in someone else, isn't it?"

"Maybe," I admit.

She clucks her tongue. "Can't help you there, little bro. You're fighting this because of Adrian, not because of Lauren. Stop overthinking it. Only then can you see where things will lead with Maura."

I nod again, annoyed now that Nicole understands my predicament so clearly and frustrated as h.e.l.l that she's right. As usual.

"Yeah."

She laughs again. "I know you're not going to do what I say anyway, so I look forward to our next conversation about this exact same topic. You torturing yourself over a girl you can't think you can have, or don't think you deserve. What else is new?"

I chuckle. G.o.d, I miss my sister sometimes. "Same old. What's new at home?"

"Oh, you know, our house looks like a pumpkin threw up."

I laugh for real then, imagining the big crates Mom forced Dad to haul out of the attic so she could decorate the house like she did when we were kids, regardless that we're all grown-up now. "Did she carve pumpkins yet?"

"No, that happy occasion is taking place on Friday night. Aunt Marie is bringing Cam over. Mom's so happy he's coming she bought new stencils." Cameron is my little cousin. He's nine. Sometimes I think Mom is relieved he's in the family so she still has someone to do all her fun holiday activities with.

"That's nice," I say sincerely, a wave of longing for home crashing over me.

Nicole murmurs in agreement. "I'm happy you're coming home for Thanksgiving," she says suddenly, in a very unlike Nicole display of affection.

"Me too. Still going on that date for Halloween?"

"Ugh. We're going to a costume party. How much do you want to bet that it's an epic disaster?"

I snort, imagining my sister hanging out next to the punch bowl. "What are you going to be?"

"Who knows? Mom's Pinteresting ideas."

"Yeah, well, you better find out before you go as a giant bunch of grapes," I tell her, remembering her ninth-grade Halloween party and the horrendous costume Mom made for her.

"Oh G.o.d, don't remind me. Mom almost ruined my high school career before it started."

I laugh earnestly. "It won't be that bad. I'm glad you're going out."

"Yeah. I guess. What about you?"

"A party probably. I haven't really thought about it yet. D'Arco wants us all to go as minions." I wince. "Like we're three. So that's not happening."

Nicole laughs. "Remember last year when Adrian made you guys go as Mario and Luigi?"

"Yeah. I remember. It was better than his original idea as Adam and Steve." I smile at the memory. I definitely have to tell Maura about that crazy night.

Nicole chuckles again. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks."

I listen as Nicole rambles on about other happenings at home. The more she talks, the more the annoyance and frustration leaves my body, and the more I realize I'm definitely over studying for the night.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Maura

I used to love Halloween. I loved the decorating and the h.o.a.rding of chocolate. I loved the taste of candy corn and the months leading up to the big day, when all Adrian and I would do was discuss our costumes. I enjoyed tagging along with my mom to the rag shop to buy the necessary materials to create said costumes. And I adored trick-or-treating, following Adrian and his friends from house to house, up block after block, filling my pillowcase with an absurd amount of chocolates and candies.

As I got older, I enjoyed the parties. The creative and hilarious costumes people would think of. Pa.s.sing out chocolate to the eager and happy kids who rang our doorbell.

But this year, my heart's just not in it. All I remember is the slew of Halloween memories between Adrian and me, and I don't want to go to a Halloween party knowing that he's not celebrating.

I call home the day before, both relieved and nervous when my mom answers. I've been a terrible daughter the past few months, dodging Mom's phone calls, ignoring Dad's texts, only going home when it's absolutely necessary. When Mom's voice floods my ear, I feel a pang of guilt followed by a desire to curl up in her arms like I did as a child and fall asleep with my head on her shoulder.

"Hi, Mom."

"Maura? It's so good to hear from you. How are your cla.s.ses? How's crew?" She asks warmly, her voice stronger than the last time we spoke.

"Good, thanks. Everything is going well. Busy," I fib.

"That's great. I'm so proud of you, Maura. I want you to know that," she says suddenly.

"Th-thanks, Mom," I stutter, surprised at her display of affection after so many months of her unaffected detachment.

"How are the girls?" she asks, referencing Lila, Mia, and Emma.

"Good. They're all doing great." I recall a recent email from Mia and tell Mom all about the sightseeing she's doing in Rome.

"Oh, good for her. I wish you were able to study abroad too. But I know how important your rowing is to you, so Dad and I didn't push it."

"Oh," I say, surprised. I didn't know she felt that way. I didn't realize she and Dad would even let me go abroad. I guess I figured the cost would be too great. I mean, I'm at McShain on scholarship, not exactly in the financial position to go gallivanting across Europe.

"Maybe one day," she continues. "After you graduate, you and your friends can take a big trip somewhere. You've got to get out there and see the world, Maura. Your dad and I, we were never able to really travel, but when I see the pictures Tia Jolene sends me from her vacations, I really wish we did do more when you guys were small."

I swallow down the ball of emotions growing in my throat. My mom is never this forthcoming. I can't even remember the last time she spoke so many words out loud. "I'd like that, Mom. Hopefully, we can all take a trip next summer."

"Yes, that would be nice," she agrees contentedly.

"How's Dad?"

"Oh, you know your father. He's very busy at the garage. We're going to Tia and Tio's for dinner this weekend. They're having a Halloween party. I think I'm going to be a witch."

What? Is she serious? My mom has Halloween plans and I don't?

"Wow! That sounds like fun," I say instead.

"I found that old wig you wore when you were a witch a few years back. And I do have a black dress and boots so ..."

"Yeah, that sounds good." I hate how I have nothing real to say. I wish I could tell her how I really feel, that I'm dreading Halloween because Adrian isn't here. But I don't want to say anything to dash the delicate balance she seems to have found for herself.

"Sorry, mi corazon, I have to go now. Tia Ana is coming over for a coffee, and I want to vacuum the living room."

I smile at her words, bits of the Mom I know appearing through them. She always was a compulsive cleaner whenever anyone, even family, would drop by.

"Okay, Mom. I miss you," I tell her honestly, relieved that I have something truthful to share.

"I miss you too, Maura. I'm so happy you called. I wish you would visit more."

"I'll try, Mom." Guilt gnaws at my belly as I feel bad for how much I've been avoiding going home, avoiding interacting with Mom and Dad at all. Besides the obvious shame I feel for my own behavior and wanting to protect them from seeing the person I've become, I also haven't wanted to see the empty sh.e.l.ls they've transformed into. Although, it now seems that even my parents are healing quicker than I am.

"Okay. Adios, mi hija."

"'Bye, Mom." I hang up the phone and slump back in my desk chair.

Although I'm obviously happy that my mom seems to be moving past Adrian's loss, I'm also surprised that I feel anger toward her obvious strides in healing. Is everyone moving on with their lives except me?

It's Valerie Manelli who texts me about the Halloween party. "Please come! We haven't hung out in ages," she writes.

I stare at the message for a long time, noting that the address of the house party is within walking distance of my dorm.

Another text chimes.

Valeria: And don't worry about Kay. She won't be there as she's the only person actually staying dry tonight.

Her words are followed by a series of emojis: laughing face, Halloween pumpkin, red heart, balloon.

Sigh. I should probably go. For starters, it's way too lame to sit inside and drink alone on Halloween. Even if I did buy myself a ma.s.sive Mr. Goodbar and a bag of Reese's peanut b.u.t.ter cups. Also, I know Valerie is extending an olive branch after all the c.r.a.p that went down with Kay and me ditching practice. She's telling me that there are still girls on the team who've got my back, miss me, want to hang out.

So I dig through my closet to see what type of costume I can come up with on such short notice. Finding one of Lila's ridiculously short plaid skirts and an old-white b.u.t.ton-down, I decide I can go as a Girl Scout. All I have to do is fashion a sash, pin on some old rowing pins, and carry around a box of cookies. Pairing the skirt with knee-high socks and a pair of boots, I try to s.e.x it up a bit. I flip my hair over and scrunch some gel through my curls, raking my fingers over the roots for some volume. A bit of eyeliner, mascara, blush, and a swipe of lip gloss later, I'm good to go.

I check the address one more time, text Valerie back to let her know I'm on my way, and toss my phone into a small cross-body purse. Pulling on a North Face fleece, I step outside into the cold. The wind immediately whips my hair back and stings my cheeks. Above, the branches of trees swing dangerously. I'm shocked to see snowflakes tumbling from the sky. The snow is already sticking to the ground, maybe half an inch in some spots. Each step I take leaves a footprint and I smile to myself. I love the first snowfall of the season. Walking in the direction of the house party, I make a quick stop at a gas station quick mart for a box of cookies and voila, happy Halloween b.i.t.c.hes.

The place is packed by the time I arrive. The party is being hosted by a fraternity, although I forget what they're called as I make my way up the front path to the door and note the Greek letters fixed to the front of the house. Whatever.

Pushing inside, I'm a.s.saulted by the smell of cheap beer and vodka, cologne and perfume, weed and cigarettes. The living room is packed with bodies all dressed up: s.e.xy kittens and scary monsters, b.l.o.o.d.y brides and hot cowboys, a few one-night stands and ridiculous costumes I can't figure out. People are cl.u.s.tered together in small groups, talking, dancing around the various pieces of furniture, or off in a side room playing an intense game of flip-cup.

I follow the scent of beer to the kitchen and wait in line at the keg to fill a red Solo cup.

"Oh my G.o.d! I'm so happy you came!" A slightly drunk Valerie, aka Tinkerbell, collides with my right side as she throws her arms around me in a crooked hug. "What are you?"

I hold up the cookies with my left hand and place my index, middle, and ring fingers together on my right hand. "A Girl Scout."

She laughs loudly, the smell of vodka on her breath. "That's awesome! I'm Tinkerbell!"

"I can see that."

"Listen, I'm sorry about all the s.h.i.t Kay said to you. I know now's not the time, but I want you to know that we all don't feel that way. Okay?"

I nod gratefully. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Are you kidding me? I'm so happy you came!" She shrieks, throwing her arms around me once more. "Come on, let's get you a drink," she says as it's our turn at the keg. A guy dressed as a farmer pours us two cups of beer and hands them over, winking at me.

"Thanks," I say, accepting the beer.