Page 78 of Another Love, Another Time
I pull myself up against the vanity and take a good look at myself. My hair is shooting out in all directions. Mascara, eyeliner, and blush make my face look like a Jackson Pollock painting. It’s even in my ears. How does one even do that? Beyond that, my eyes are bloodshot, and my under-eyes are swollen.
I grunt in frustration, grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, and begin scraping the remnants of last night’s food off my teeth. I hobble into the shower, grateful it’s a walk-in and not a tub-shower combo. I pull my shirt and shorts off and throw them over the shower doors. I turn the water on and screech when the ice-cold water hits my skin, but almost immediately, it becomes a welcoming punishment, a challenge, even.
I don’t know how much time passes, but I finally decide I’ve had enough and rotate the handle to “hot.” I finish cleansing myself of everything from last night.
I still don’t understand why I’m so shocked by Auggie’s choice. I knew this would happen. I knew this would happen, but somewhere in my fucked-up head, I thought he’d choose me.
Growing up, he was always my best friend. We always hung out when we could and talked daily. We were both each other’s first, but maybe I didn’t know him like I thought I did. Maybe he was closer to Melissa than I thought. He knew how much I despised her, yet he’s still with her. If he’s with her, I can’t be in his life. I won’t give her another opportunity to hurt me.
I turn the water off and then hear a knock at the door. “River, are you okay?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I call.
“Okay, honey. There’s a Hardee’s biscuit and some coffee out here when you’re ready.”
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” Her footsteps recede. I go to my closet where I find a pair of sweatpants and a worn T-shirt, one of Auggie’s that I stole when we were in high school. I should probably have one of my husband’s, but we have never really been in one place at the same time long enough for me to even steal one. I slide on my flip-flops and head toward the smell of coffee.
I turn the corner, expecting to find my mom alone. Instead, I find her with company. I guess I know why my phone stopped chirping. Auggie turns around in his chair and makes eye contact.
“Hey, River,” he greets. “I was hoping you and I could talk this morning.” As much as I want to go crawl under my covers, I can’t do that. We need to talk about this.
I pull my hair tie from my wrist and pull my wet hair up into a messy bun; I’m stalling. I turn toward the cabinets and pour some coffee. I like mine black. I go over to the Hardee’s sack and pull the remaining biscuit out. I turn to Auggie and say, “I’m assuming that you are the one who brought these with you?”
He nods. “Stop trying to delay this. We need to talk.”
My mom hops up from her seat. “I’m going to run some errands.” She looks at Auggie. “Thank you for breakfast. I’ll see you later.” Then, she walks over to me and leans in. “Give him a chance to explain.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say. It feels like they’ve ganged up on me. She just needs to stay out of my business. I grab my coffee and sandwich and then take the seat my mom just vacated. I mutter, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he states hesitantly.
“Okay,” I say again.
“Okay,” he confirms. I roll my eyes. “You’re ready to talk? Do you want to go first, or do you want me to?”
I purse my lips. “I’ll go first. Let me finish my breakfast first.” We sit there in silence, the only noise my chewing. I take a sip of my coffee to wash the rest of the biscuit down, wipe my mouth, and look into his eyes. They’re still the prettiest I’ve ever seen. They’ve always been filled with happiness. Cockiness. But right now, they are filled with fear.
The last time I saw that look was the day of my dad’s funeral, and the only other time was the day I kicked him out of my hospital room. This conversation is not going to be a happy one. We’ve been avoiding it since I walked into the station.
“I’ll go first,” I say, “but if we start, we put it all out there. No sugarcoating; feelings are going to be hurt. It’s the only way we can move forward. Okay?”
“Okay,” he responds quietly.
“Where do you want me to start?” I ask.
“The night of the attack,” he answers.
I swallow hard. This will be harder than I thought.
Auggie
She’s nervous. So am I, for that matter. This isn’t going to be easy, but we might as well start at the beginning of this mess. It’s quiet for a while, like she is working up her courage.
“I saw you that night,” she starts quietly. She’s staring at the table like she’s reliving everything again.
“You saw me? Me?” I go to take her hand, but she pulls away. I already know I’m not going to like what she has to say. She knew about Melissa and me on prom night, but I didn’t know that she saw it. I’m sure how I thought she found out. I guess I never really thought about it.
“You had walked me to the bathroom and waited outside. I didn’t think I took that long, but with my dress, I must have taken a little longer than I normally did. Anyway, when I came out of the bathroom, I couldn’t find you. I went down one of the hallways where I thought I heard voices.” She stops. At this point, I can tell she’s trying to hide her emotions from me.
