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Chapter Fourteen

Vivienne

T wo months later

“Viv,” Maribel calls, “Murray is here! Are you ready?”

Tugging on my hoodie, I pull my hair into a ponytail and yank on a pair of baggy, oversized sweatpants.

“Yeah, Mar,” I call back, slipping my feet into my fuzzy pink slippers. Standing in front of the long mirror, the one I picked out the day I met Reed, I take in my appearance.

Two months into a relationship should still be the honeymoon phase, but I’m dressed like we’ve been married ten years and our fifteen month old has been cutting new teeth or something.

But I don’t feel well.

Who knew that dating someone in order to get over the guy you actually have feelings for while living under the same roof of the guy you have feelings for would make you depressed?

I’m not just depressed. I’m so much more than that.

My heart aches every time I pass Reed in the hall, and every morning I have to listen to my father and Maribel plan their days while dad packs her the lunch of her liking, I die a little inside, I swear.

We could be like them, me and Reed.

We get along so well, we have so much chemistry and the way my dad cannot keep his lips off of Maribel reminds me of Reed. When we’re near each other he always has to be touching me.

Sliding his foot over mine under the breakfast table.

Bumping his knee against mine in the backseat of the car.

Hooking his pinky around mine when we pass in the hall.

My depression has morphed into something more, a virus infiltrating my body in ways no boy ever has.

My bones ache, my stomach is continually uneasy and all I want to do is sleep.

In class, I doze. As soon as I’m home, I get in bed and sleep until dinner, and then I get back in bed after I eat.

I’m exhausted, and when I hear Reed on the phone or see his taillights in the driveway, I cry.

Every time I see him I want to cry, but I wait until I’m alone to do it.

I want him. I want his friendship, his attention, his guidance, his laughter—I’m in love with Reed. I think I fell for him at the beach that night, but have never let myself believe it. You can’t love someone without time invested, without knowing their ins and outs, that’s what my dad would say.

But he fell for Maribel before they even met in person, so in theory, he fell in love with an idea of a woman, not the actual person.

If that can be true, how come I can’t fall in love with a guy based on chemistry and energy?

I can, and I did, but I know that no one else will understand. They’ll say I can’t possibly love Reed.

Even if I hadn't fallen for him that night, I would have fallen for him since. Because with each toothy grin, each gentle laugh, every inquisitive expression and stolen glance, I burn for him, more and more. Pretty soon, there won’t be anything but a pile of ash where I once stood, because Reed Lancaster will have burned me all up.

“You’re pretty casual,” my father says, standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for me to open my door.

I look down at my sweats, my mind exhausted, my body not far behind. “We’re just watching a movie in the den,” I reply defensively. “Why would I get dressed up for that?”

Dad lifts his hands in innocence. “I thought maybe you’d go out to the movies,” he says.

“Were you waiting for me?” I ask, irritation running rampant inside me. That’s another thing that has come on strong with my depression–a healthy serving of irritation. Everything and everyone irritates me, except?—

“Harrison, I just came up to see you,” my father says, his eyes sliding to mine briefly.

“I was telling one of the infrastructure engineers about the work you’re doing at your internship,” he says, sliding his arm around Harrison’s shoulders.

I don’t look back because the sight of my father adoring and helping Reed is too much for my depressed, squashed soul. I can’t stomach it.

We would be perfect together under any other circumstances .

“Hey babers,” Murray greets, yanking me into his bearlike chest. He squeezes me, then holds up a plastic bag, filled with candy and DVDs. “I brought options for our night in.”

Another thing adding to my depression? Despite the douchery he displayed at Clear View two months ago, Murray is actually a big softie, and not a bad guy at all. In fact, if I weren’t secretly in love with Reed, I’d probably like Murray.

He’s funny and patient, and he’s passionate about his family and making sure he follows in his father’s footsteps with their family owned business. The arrogance is a shield he puts up when faced with uncomfortable social settings.

Reed avoided social settings, but Murray changed his personality to handle them. I understand both ways of dealing. Still, Murray being a good guy only makes me feel worse.

Because I have no real feelings for him. None whatsoever.

“Sounds good,” I tell him, rocking to my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Want a soda? Popcorn?”

Murray nods, and we head into the kitchen, where Maribel is standing in her silk pajama set, a bottle of wine in her hands. “Oh, hi Murray, I was just opening this bottle for me and Elijah. Can I get you guys something else? Maybe something sparkling?”

I move to the fridge, retrieving two cans of Coke.

“Just grabbing some soda to go with our popcorn.” I study the label on the wine as Murray roots around in the pantry, hunting for popcorn.

“This is nice. What’s the occasion?” Living with Maribel for a few months has taught me which wine is expensive and which isn’t .

She smiles. “Just another night in the perfect life.” She uncorks, filling two glasses. “After your dad and Harrison are done with their mentoring session, we’re going to go upstairs and watch a movie, too.”

Maribel hooks a nail on Murray’s bag, peering at the DVDs he brought. She takes one out, and turns it around, reading the back. “Murray,” she muses, “can Elijah and I snag this one?”

Murray comes out of the pantry with a bag of popcorn and two boxes of candy. “Sure, Mrs. Lancaster. I’ve seen it already anyway.”

Maribel and Murray getting along only depresses me more. She can’t get along with Murray as well as she gets along with her own son, and yet, it doesn’t matter.

Murray is my boyfriend. I should be happy that my dad and Maribel like him.

I should be happy that my dad and Maribel are so fucking happy.

I should be happy that it’s Friday night and Reed is home with my father, and not out with a beautiful college girl.

The doorbell rings, and while Murray and I get our pillows and blankets set up for movie night, Reed appears, hands in pockets. “Hey man,” he says to Murr. “Think me and my date can crash movie night?”