Between Two Lungs

Mae sat squished against the window as the Greyhound pulled out of the station. She sighed, her warm breath hitting the cold glass of the window and causing it to fog up. She wiped the condensation away and spied Marc standing in the parking lot by his car, waving. She smiled softly and waved back before averting her eyes somewhere else.

"You know, if there's something going on, you can always tell me," Marc said as he drove Mae to the Greyhound station. "I know that I'm your boyfriend now and that label might make you feel weird, but you're still my best friend first."

"Thank you, Marc," Mae replied. "But really, it's nothing. I've just got a lot of stuff to do back home."

Marc nodded, not convinced. Still, he let the subject drop when he pulled into the parking lot.

Mae kept on thinking about her situation with Marc. The guilt from having slept with Jordan after officially becoming a couple was starting to consume her. She wanted to tell him before she left, to give part of the reason why she needed to get away, but she couldn't. How could she possibly let Marc know that she was having sex with his little brother while he was sound asleep down the hall?

She sighed again, fogging up the window. This time she didn't bother trying to wipe it clean. She just closed her eyes, exhausted from the lack of sleep.

"When am I going to be able to see you again?" Mae asked quietly as she laid in bed next to Jordan. Their bodies were dotted with sweat, and he was doing his best to catch his breath.

"Well," he replied, his voice still sounding uneven, "When I have off days, or when there's a few days gap between games, I'll drive up to visit you. I want to make sure that everything is going okay. You know, with the NA meetings and all that."

Mae bit her lip. "I'm scared, Jordan."

"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "But you're strong. You may not be able to see it, but I do. You think you put up a tough front because on the inside, you're weak. But you're not. You'll make it through this. I know you will."

She smiled, nuzzling into the crook of Jordan's neck. Then, she sighed. "I just cheated on my boyfriend. With his brother."

"Do you want to date Marc?" Jordan asked. "Really?"

Mae thought about it for a second. "I don't think I ever really did," she answered honestly. "But I can't let him go now. I don't know how."

"You'll know when the time is right," he sighed. "Just...don't string him on forever."

"I won't," she promised. "You know, maybe you should go back to your room in case Marc comes to wake me up in the morning."

Jordan let out a small laugh. "Oh yeah." He sat up and moved to get out of the bed when Mae cleared her throat.

"And don't forget to bring your clothes."

* * * * *

Almost twelve hours later, after several collective pit stops and re-boardings, the Greyhound finally pulled into the station in Manhattan. Mae rubbed her eyes gingerly, reminding herself never to travel on Canada's busiest shopping day of the year. She got off of the bus and collected her luggage as the driver unloaded everything from the bottom compartment. Then she wheeled her suitcase down the street, making her way to Avenue B.

She passed Avenue A as she was making her way home and a voice called out to her. "Mae!"

She turned and saw Gina's bright blue eyes beamed at her. Mae smiled and walked over to her. "Hey, Gee. Merry Christmas. How have you been?"

"I've been pretty good," she replied, looking happier than Mae had ever seen her. "Soup kitchens were very generous this year. We got chicken noodle soup, bread, and some people even donated turkeys. Haven't had a turkey dinner in ages."

"That's fantastic!" Mae cheered, placing a hand on Gina's shoulder.

"So, where'd you run off to?" Gina asked, eyeing her coyly. "Darius said he saw you leaving with that hockey player."

Mae shrugged. "I went up to Canada to spend the holidays with his family," she explained. "And I sorted out a lot of my issues."

"That's good," Gina concluded. "Got any New Year's resolutions?"

Mae nodded her head, the smile never once leaving her face. "I can think of a few."

Gina tucked a strand of her wily hair behind her ear. "If you need any company around New Year's, the lot of us are going to be in Times Square."

"Sounds good," Mae waved as she started heading back towards her apartment.

When she finally got there and lugged her suitcase up the two flights of stairs, she saw someone leaning up against her front door.

"Uh, what are you doing, Gary?" she asked tentatively as she reached for her house key.

"Just wondering where it is you went," he shrugged, acting nonchalant. "I asked the others. They said you just up and disappeared. I was worried that you were going to back out of our deal."

"The art show?" she asked, sliding the door open. "No, I'm still in."

"I wasn't talking about the show," Gary said, rolling his eyes. Mae paused for a second, trying to think of what he was talking about. When she stayed quiet, Gary spoke up and said, "I've got a friend of mine bringing in some of the good stuff. You in?"

Mae froze, her expression growing tense. "I'm trying to stop, actually."

"What, you're sobering up?" he scoffed. "Why now, all of a sudden? Where'd you go while you were away, a rehab?"

"No," she shot back. "I'm just...I'm trying to make things right, okay? And to do so, I need to lay off the drugs. The acid, the X, the heroin...everything."

Gary crossed his arms over his chest and squinted at her. "Who are you trying to make things right with, anyway?"

Mae drummed her fingers along the doorframe. "Myself."

"Very admirable, Mother Teresa," he droned. "But you know what? I've got some news for you. If you decide to go ahead and quit on your habits, I'll just have to assume that you're quitting on our lifestyle. Not just me, but Brendan, James and Faye too. And if you quit us, you quit the art show."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mae demanded, baffled. "You're trying to tell me that unless I succumb to the lifestyle that you lead, getting fucked out of my mind on hallucinogens and uppers, you're going to kick me out of the art show? You know how hard I've been working on this!"

"That sounds 'bout right," Gary said as he stood there, looking more smug than ever. "So, what's your decision, then?"

Mae just shook her head at him, a disgusted look crossing her face. "You're a sick man, Gary," she spat. "I don't need people like you stirring up shit in my life. Take your piece of shit art show and shove it up your ass. I'm done with you. Goodbye."

Without looking back, Mae retreated into her apartment and slid the door shut right in front of Gary's face. Once the door was closed, she took in a deep breath and smiled to herself, a sense of self-pride overwhelming her. She went to her room and pulled out a phone book, flipping through the pages until she found the entry she was looking for.

She dialed the number and pressed her phone against her ear.

"Greater New York Region of Narcotics Anonymous, this is Sherry speaking, how may I help you?"

"Yeah, hi," Mae began. "Um, I was just wondering if there were any NA groups near my area. I live on Avenue B in Alphabet City."

"There are actually ten Narcotics Anonymous groups in your area," Sherry told her. "Would you like to know the closest one?"

"Yes please."

"There's one just off of Avenue B on East 6th Street, address number 630," she said. "It's called Freedom Group. They meet Fridays at 7:00, in the cafeteria of LESC House."

"Okay, thank you," Mae said before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone.

She exhaled slowly, glancing at her calendar. It was Saturday. The next Friday would be New Year's Day.

"Looks like I have New Year's plans after all," she mused, circling the day and jotting down the time. She really couldn't wait.