The Brink of Destruction

Without him there to see me break, the tears came like a dam bursting, some primal flood that felt as if it might never stop. Muffling my sobs into my pillow, I tried to drown out the sound of his voice, so broken, so lost.

Suddenly, the thudding against the door stopped, and I heard footsteps racing down the stairs, joined by the sound of Mike's voice calling after Billie. The lock clacked open, and Wynn rushed inside, dropping her backpack at the door.

"My God, Gen, what happened? Billie just blew past us crying, and nearly knocked us down when we asked him what was wrong! What in heaven's name is going on with you two?" she cried.

Mike put a big, gentle hand on her shoulder, and as she turned to him, he closed his eyes and nodded reassurance. "Babe, do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with Genny?" he said softly.

She looked uncertainly at me, and then back into Mike's blue eyes. "I--sure, I'll go down to the laundry room and wait for our stuff to dry." She kissed him quickly, and then glanced back at me again. "Gen, I'm here. Okay? You're not alone, whatever else happens. You're not alone."
Slipping through the door, she pulled it quietly closed behind her.

Mike pulled a desk chair beside the bed, and eased his lanky frame into it, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He didn't seem upset, but there was deep concern in his face. For a long moment, he was quiet, waiting for the hurricane of sobs to subside, letting me release everything that had been building inside me without comment or question. It seemed to go on forever, but he waited patiently, head lowered respectfully, until the worst had passed, and I was able to breathe again.

When I raised my head to look at him, he was holding a box of Kleenex, his funny Mona Lisa smile playing on his lips. "Take your time," he murmured, and held out a handful of tissues.
I sat up, cross-legged, and mopped the soggy mess that my face had become. My breath was still coming in hitching gasps, but for the moment, I was empty, purged.

He leaned back, folding his long arms behind his head.

"I saw you walking home today," he said, very softly. "On my way home from work."

I searched his face, unsure where he was leading, but found only the calm serenity of a Buddha there. He really was unflappable.

I tried to manage a weak chuckle. "Well, why didn't you give me a ride?"

He lowered his eyes again. "Because I thought you might need some time alone. You seemed pretty preoccupied at the time."

"What made you think that?" I asked, absently shredding the limp Kleenex into tiny white pills.

His hand lowered gently onto my knee, and he ignored my question, answering it with another. "What brought you over to Broad Street that time of day?"

I began to feel a little like a bug under a microscope, and squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. He didn't move his hand away, leaving it like a question mark. "I just had an errand to run, that's all."

It sounded lame, even to me, but I was trying desperately to think of some plausible reason for being there, and coming up completely blank.

"Hmmm," he mused, nodding understanding. "Not too much out there, though, is there? Except some houses, and a couple of doctor's offices."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. Clearly, he knew--or suspected--something, but I didn't want to say the wrong thing and reveal too much. "And your point would be--?" I whispered.

He bent forward again, and took my hands between his. His head tilted to the side, and a sad smile touched his lips. "Genny, I saw you come out of the doctor's office. She's good, you picked one of the best around."

There was a lurch inside me as my heart dropped, and when I swallowed, hard, my throat made a dry clicking sound. "Why would I go off-campus to see a doctor when I can go to Student Health?" I shrugged, trying so hard to sound airy and offhand, and failing miserably.

"C'mere," he said, pulling my head against his shoulder. He patted my back, the way you would a little child's. "Gen, it's okay. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm not trying to force anything from you. But you know, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. And I hope it makes it easier, not having to come out and say it."

He scooted over so he was sitting beside me, my head leaning on his shoulder. "So how are you?" he asked, talking to the top of my head. "You doing okay?"

I raised my blotchy, tear-streaked face to him. "Do I look okay?" I laughed half-heartedly.

"Okay, dumb question. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. Mike, I don't really know right now. I'm just--numb."

He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. "You know Billie's going nuts over this, right?"

Horror-stricken, I gasped, "You haven't told him anything, have you?"

"No, no, no--don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you, you know that. I just mean the whole breakup thing. You did break up with him, right?"

I had to turn away before I started to cry again. He caught my shoulder and pulled me back around to face him. "Hey, I'm sorry. I'm butting in where I shouldn't."

"No, it's not that. I just don't know where I am with him right now. All I know is that I can't let him find out. I can't even imagine how he'd feel, and he needs to be focusing on his future, not worrying about me. Everything about my life is up in the air."

He looked incredulous. "Gen, have you ever stopped to think that you are his future?" He stood and patted my head affectionately, and started across the room. "Maybe you're assuming too much about him--or maybe too little. You should give him more credit, you know. But either way, you should talk to him. He deserves that much, don't you think?"

He was right, of course.

"Mike?"

He stopped, halfway out the door.

"Just do me one favor, please? Let me do this in my own time."

He sighed deeply, his mind heavy with faraway thoughts. "It's not for me to tell him, Genny. That's your responsibility. But I've had to keep one secret from him all this time, and I don't want to do it again. Please don't ask me to lie to my best friend, even as much as I care about you. I can't do that to him."

"I get it," I replied, hanging my head. He was in a terrible position, and it wasn't the first time. But I had no choice except to trust him, and ask him to trust me. "I promise not to ask you to tell him anything that isn't true. But please understand why it has to be this way. And Mike--?"

He was about to close the door behind him. "Yes?"

"Please don't make too many assumptions about me either, okay? Maybe I'm not the bad guy you think I am after all."

He shook his head slowly, his smile kind and full of compassion. "I'd never think you were a bad guy, Genny. I just think you're a little lost right now. And the thing is, I know there's somebody who'd go to the ends of the earth to find you if you'd let him."

**************************************

It was just after mid-terms that I lied to Wynn for the first and only time in our friendship.

"It's the only way I can stay in school," I told her over salads at the Cambridge Inn. "Since my grandmother pretty much cut me off, I've got to start saving money, and it's really hard to keep up with the library and therapy jobs and still take classes. This is kind of a live-in evening nanny job, where I'd be watching kids until their parents get home, helping with dinner, stuff like that. And they'll provide room and board plus a little salary."

"So can you get a refund from the university for the room and your cafeteria plan? It'd be a shame to lose money on it. Not that I'm trying desperately to persuade you not to leave me here all alone, mind you." She looked terribly disappointed, and I felt even worse at the idea of leaving her.

"Yeah, they'll prorate it, so I'll have a little money coming back there, too. And I got a letter from Financial Aid today that said I'd been selected for some scholarship for next year--I don't know exactly how much it is, or even where it came from, but it'll help, whatever it is."

"What's it called--do you know?" she asked.

"I can't remember exactly. I think it was the "Marie Fiatarone Endowment," something like that. Anyway, it's more for community service than for GPA, which takes lot of pressure off. But I still have to have money to live on, so..."

"Well, where exactly is this place?" she asked.

"It's toward the northern end of town. The bus line runs right by the house, so I'll be able to get to classes pretty easily. All things considered, it's not a bad deal. Besides, I don't really have much choice, do I?"

The truth was that I had signed a sublease for a basement room in one of the student boarding houses near East Campus, a dingy little box with no windows, that smelled of dampness and mildew. I'd still be able to finish classes, but it would take me away from campus, so that I wouldn't have to face anyone, explain anything. I could untangle the mess I'd made of things alone, and without any questions.

I was running away, not to put too fine a point on it.

It made me sick, weaving this entire story out of thin air to the best, closest friend I had ever had. If not for Wynn, I'd never have made friends, never have survived that first semester. And I'd never have met...

No! I pushed the thought away violently, as I did every time he entered my mind, which was probably a thousand times a day. The pain hadn't lessened at all; in fact, if anything, it had grown keener with every day that passed. I still hadn't been able to bring myself to send the ring and necklace back to him, maybe because it would make it too real, too final. And maybe it was because I was afraid that if I saw him, I would cave in to the gnawing, aching hunger that I'd felt for him for so many long, empty weeks.

It was too much, being in the room in Canterbury, with so many memories haunting me. Every time Mike came by, I felt his eyes questioning, wondering when I was going to free him from the burden he was carrying, but no matter how guilty I felt, I couldn't force myself to go to Billie. And so I went, robotically, through my routine every day, and I visited the kids as often as I could, and I tried hard to ignore the howling void inside me that nothing could fill. The simple truth was that the world had collapsed on top of me, and there was nothing to do but keep digging my way out, one day at a time.

"You'll keep in touch, won't you?" She had stopped eating, and her fingers wound nervously around each other beside her plate. "Because if you don't, I don't know what I'll do. I feel like I'm losing a sister, and it just sucks like hell!"

I reached for her hand. "Now, you know I could never forget about you, Wynn. You've been so much more than a friend to me, and that won't change just because we don't share a room."

It was true--and not true. Because in my heart, I knew that this was the beginning of the end. I couldn't sit on the fence and watch the family of friends that I'd been a part of for so long, while I drifted away on my own. It was hard enough without that. But for now, I had to make it as easy for her as I could.

She nodded, sniffling a little. "Okay, I believe you. Just promise me you'll come see me as often as you can."

"I will. I'll probably drive you nuts calling you, too."

She glanced up at me, and I could see in her eyes that there was something else she wanted to say. "Gen, speaking of calling--I don't want to rub salt in a wound, but Billie called twice this week while you were working. I don't know exactly what happened between you, and I'm not asking you to tell me. But he just sounds...he doesn't even sound like Billie anymore. He knows by now I'm going to tell him the same thing every time, I can hear it in his voice. But it's like he can't let go of the hope that he'll get through to you. Mike said he's not eating much, and getting skinny as a rail. They haven't had a band practice in six weeks. What should I tell him now that you're leaving?"

I lowered my head into my hands and sighed. This was one of those turning points, and I could close the door once and for all, just by letting things die a natural death. I'd move, go on with the ragged remnant of my existence, and gradually try to forget the happiest time in my entire life, as if it had never happened.

Or I could face him, own up to the devastation I'd put him through, take responsibility for everything and beg his forgiveness. Which would mean he'd have me at his mercy, either to break down my already shaky defenses and ask me to try again, or to blast me to kingdom come.

Nope, coward that I am, it wasn't gonna happen.