Looking At Us

63. shain

Watching Megan break down was hard, partly because there was only twenty minutes until school started, and I didn’t know what to do because I’d never been pushed out of a relationship. With Levon, I’d done the pushing. 

     Monday morning, and Megan showed no sign of life. She lay in her bed, and I sat on her bed, and our conversation went kind of like this. 

     Me: ‘‘Megan . . . are you really going to just lie there all day?’’

     Megan:  

     Me: ‘‘You need to eat. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?’’

     Megan: 

     Me: ‘‘You’re not going to talk to me, are you?’’

     Megan: 

     I didn’t know what to do. 

     Minutes later, Erick knocked on the door and I let him in. He looked delicious in a white muscle-tee beneath a plaid shirt that matched his eyes, and he wore shorts, because it was summer. 

     ‘’No progress?’’ he murmured. He brushed his lips beside my ear, and my heart skipped a beat. 

     I squeezed his hand. ‘’No. She’s dying in misery.’’

     He sighed. I breathed in his green apple smell.

     Megan, wake up. 

     Erick kissed my forehead and said, ‘‘C’mon. It’s ten minutes until school.’’

     ‘‘Bye, Megan,’’ I whispered, closing the door, but then stopping, because the phone was ringing. 

     Erick handed it to me. 

     I said, ‘‘Hello?’’

     ‘’Um. Shain? It’s Cris Domnall.’’

     Oh, damn. ‘’I know who you are without last-name identification. What’s up?’’

     ‘’Is Megan available?’’ he asked.

     I hesitated. I wanted to say, Don’t you dare break her heart again, you asshole, but the words got caught in my throat. I said, ‘‘Yeah, hang on.’’

     I gave the phone to Megan. She looked up. 

     I said, ‘‘It’s Cris.’’