A Tangled Web We Weave (Completed)

39. Going, Going, You're a Goner

Andy

I opened the envelope and screamed.

Cal jumped about eight feet in the air. He'd been holding his Coke and it got all over his Guess shirt.

"Dear Ms. Andrea," I read aloud, "you've been accepted to the University of Tampa!! Oh my God! I did it, Cal. I got in!"

He wrapped his arms around me. "I'm so happy for you, baby."

I wrinkled my nose. "Thank you, love, but your shirt is getting me wet." As soon as it came out of my mouth, I regretted my word choice.

"That's what she s-" Cal started.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's all this?"

I whirled around at the sound of my father's voice. "Dad. What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "So very nice to see you too." I flinched at the implication. "I'm here to get my suitcases. I'm flying back to Montreal. My dad isn't doing great. Anyway, congrats about Tampa, sweetheart. If you need anything, Aunt Cathy's down the street." He nodded at Cal and left.

Cal raised his eyebrows at me. "So he's gone."

I nodded. "For now. Who knows if he'll be back."

He held me tighter without a word. He knew the shit going through my brain, the self-destructive anxiety and the hamster wheel going a million miles per hour.

 He was doing a very good job of acting not mad at me for screwing up the reveal with Israel. He was also doing a very good job of acting like he wasn't curious why I went at Israel guns blazing.

If I'm being honest, I'm curious too. I don't have anything against Israel, but I guess I was fed up with Sabrina and knew she cared about him. So I sank my teeth in and refused to let go.

Not my proudest moment. And I would apologize. I cared about Cal enough to know hurting her hurts him and that I didn't want to put him in the middle anymore. I just hoped she felt the same way.

I knew Cal was also worried about Florida. We were both emotionally invested at this point and I didn't want to leave him. But I had made myself a promise after seeing long distance relationship after relationship end in either cheating or just heartbreak.

We ate dinner, a quieter one with spaghetti and La Croix and Friends playing in the background. After we ate, he just held me, the only thing between us my tank top. He kept rubbing my arms like I was cold or in shock. He kissed me gently goodnight and I closed the front door to an empty house.

I spent the night listening to Morrissey and looking at dorms. And thought about how to break up with Cal.

I woke up the next morning with ink on my face from my pen and a dead laptop. I silently cleaned up my room and the kitchen, got ready for the day, and went to school. I barely spoke to anyone all day and more than one person asked me if I was ok. I was so frustrated with everything I almost screamed.

He called me eight times after school. He had boxing practice and wanted to make sure I was alright before he left. I felt weighed down in a happy relationship. He was good to me, funny, I had so much fun with him, and he really hadn't done anything wrong. I loved him and still wanted to be with him, but since I knew I would have to break up with him eventually, my brain was already subconciously moving on. And it made me feel sad and guilty but the hurt felt inevitable.

For the first time in three years, I pulled out a paintbrush and my old watercolors. I turned my yoga music on and let my creative, emotional side take over. I sat there, in my kitchen table, for hours. I finished piece after piece of watercolor paper. The paintings grew grimmer and grimmer as my mood did and I wanted to pull my hair out.

I laid down on the floor and tried to lose myself in the music, but I kept remembering memories with Cal.

Him sneak-attacking me while I did pilates and tickling me until I couldn't breathe.

His smile when I called him my boyfriend for the first time.

Picking me up and carrying me when I complained about my shoes.

His sleep-talking, "I love you, Andy".

How he held my hand absentmindedly, like it was an accident but he didn't want to move.

The tears were leaking onto the pale pink rug beneath me. I told my brain and my tears to go to hell.

I got into my shower and turned the shower on, hotter than normal but part of me liked the sting. Guess I'm a masochist or something. Rubbing the Bath and Bodyworks body wash into a lather, I started singing. I don't know when or why the song turn into a sob.

Wrapping my hair in a towel, I stepped out of the shower, steeled my nerves, and picked up my phone.

"This better be good, bitch," Sabrina answered.