Sequel: The Lunacy Fringe: Part Two ›
The Lunacy Fringe
Ninety-Eight
Rocco and Alec decided to surprise us with a going away party on my last day at the shop. They got some bands to play on the boardwalk and cooked up hamburgers outside. They set up a jar labeled “Ruby and Billie’s Adventure Fund”. They charged a minimum of one dollar donation for burgers. We only made about seventy bucks total, but they split it up between us as a parting gift. Rocco handed mine over and made me promise I’d use it on gas money to come visit.
Afterward, we hung out in the back of the shop once it closed down for the night. We weren’t jamming or doing anything other than kind of zoning out while Alec closed out the till, and Billie tried not to pass out beside me.
“So what happened to that guy?” Rocco asked, breaking the silence.
“What guy?” I replied.
“The other one we hung out with. When we jammed on the beach.”
“Quinn?”
“No, that’s your brother, right? No, the other one.”
“Oh—him.”
“Yeah, seemed like you were all in love or whatever.”
“Yeah, we were. He’s recording with Shoot the Gems. I told you that.”
“That’s not what I was asking.” I turned my head to stare at him. He was gazing at the smoky haze on the ceiling. “He was your boyfriend, right?” I swallowed through the lump in my throat.
“Yeah.”
“So what happened?”
“She broke up with him,” Billie interjected as she sat up on her elbow to join in. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but apparently not. “Like an asshole.”
“Why?”
“Because she said they were going in different directions or something stupid like that.”
“But like—they love each other, right?”
“They’re both stupidly in love with each other.”
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“Apparently, it does to this one.” He glanced at me, and my eyebrows rose.
“Are you guys done talking about my love life?” I asked.
“I was just curious. You’re clearly dealing with some stuff. I figured it was a breakup. Didn’t realize it was your fault. Why’d you do it?” I shrugged and looked away.
“It’s just better this way.”
“Bullshit,” Billie whispered. “She broke his heart.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I got up and went to help Alec close up the shop, but I could still hear them talking as I walked away.
“She still loves him,” Billie told him. “And he still loves her too.”
“Sometimes it’s best to let people figure themselves out, Kid,” Rocco told her. “Even if you don’t think it’s right. They’ll be stronger for it in the end.”
I decided to just leave. I didn’t want to hear it or talk anymore. But I couldn’t just walk out, and I couldn’t leave Billie behind to find her own ride home. So I just headed out onto the boardwalk and sat on the cement wall separating the pavement from the sand. The door opened a moment later, and Rocco came out to join me. He wrapped his sweater around his arms and sat down.
“I get it,” he said. “You’re making the right choice. Doing what you need to do to figure yourself out.”
“It still hurts.”
“I know. It always hurts, but—you’ll grow from it. Both of you. And who knows? Maybe it’ll make your relationship stronger if you guys ever decide to give it another go.” I sniffed back tears and nodded.
“I miss him so much. Sometimes I want to just get in my car, drive to his studio, and beg him to take me back.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I think about everything that’s ahead of us. All the time we’re not going to spend together. Wondering if the other person is still faithful. Not being able to talk to them because of money, long distance, or whatever the problem is. So I’d just rather get it over with now than have to torture myself with it for the next few years.”
“Sounds to me like you’re already torturing yourself.” I nodded slowly.
“It’ll stop hurting eventually. I just need time.” He looked out over the water and the way the moon shimmered off the sand.
“You know Alec is my boyfriend, right?” he finally asked. I nodded again.
“Yeah, Rocco. I kind of figured that out.”
“So what I’m telling you is that—I get it—more than you can possibly know. Love is hard sometimes. And one day, it won’t hurt as much. But some things are worth the pain. And not to sound like a total fucking hippie, but—love is always worth it.” He patted my back and went back inside. I got what he was trying to say. Being with the person you loved was worth it, even if it hurt. It was better than the pain of not being with them at all.
Afterward, we hung out in the back of the shop once it closed down for the night. We weren’t jamming or doing anything other than kind of zoning out while Alec closed out the till, and Billie tried not to pass out beside me.
“So what happened to that guy?” Rocco asked, breaking the silence.
“What guy?” I replied.
“The other one we hung out with. When we jammed on the beach.”
“Quinn?”
“No, that’s your brother, right? No, the other one.”
“Oh—him.”
“Yeah, seemed like you were all in love or whatever.”
“Yeah, we were. He’s recording with Shoot the Gems. I told you that.”
“That’s not what I was asking.” I turned my head to stare at him. He was gazing at the smoky haze on the ceiling. “He was your boyfriend, right?” I swallowed through the lump in my throat.
“Yeah.”
“So what happened?”
“She broke up with him,” Billie interjected as she sat up on her elbow to join in. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but apparently not. “Like an asshole.”
“Why?”
“Because she said they were going in different directions or something stupid like that.”
“But like—they love each other, right?”
“They’re both stupidly in love with each other.”
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“Apparently, it does to this one.” He glanced at me, and my eyebrows rose.
“Are you guys done talking about my love life?” I asked.
“I was just curious. You’re clearly dealing with some stuff. I figured it was a breakup. Didn’t realize it was your fault. Why’d you do it?” I shrugged and looked away.
“It’s just better this way.”
“Bullshit,” Billie whispered. “She broke his heart.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I got up and went to help Alec close up the shop, but I could still hear them talking as I walked away.
“She still loves him,” Billie told him. “And he still loves her too.”
“Sometimes it’s best to let people figure themselves out, Kid,” Rocco told her. “Even if you don’t think it’s right. They’ll be stronger for it in the end.”
I decided to just leave. I didn’t want to hear it or talk anymore. But I couldn’t just walk out, and I couldn’t leave Billie behind to find her own ride home. So I just headed out onto the boardwalk and sat on the cement wall separating the pavement from the sand. The door opened a moment later, and Rocco came out to join me. He wrapped his sweater around his arms and sat down.
“I get it,” he said. “You’re making the right choice. Doing what you need to do to figure yourself out.”
“It still hurts.”
“I know. It always hurts, but—you’ll grow from it. Both of you. And who knows? Maybe it’ll make your relationship stronger if you guys ever decide to give it another go.” I sniffed back tears and nodded.
“I miss him so much. Sometimes I want to just get in my car, drive to his studio, and beg him to take me back.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because I think about everything that’s ahead of us. All the time we’re not going to spend together. Wondering if the other person is still faithful. Not being able to talk to them because of money, long distance, or whatever the problem is. So I’d just rather get it over with now than have to torture myself with it for the next few years.”
“Sounds to me like you’re already torturing yourself.” I nodded slowly.
“It’ll stop hurting eventually. I just need time.” He looked out over the water and the way the moon shimmered off the sand.
“You know Alec is my boyfriend, right?” he finally asked. I nodded again.
“Yeah, Rocco. I kind of figured that out.”
“So what I’m telling you is that—I get it—more than you can possibly know. Love is hard sometimes. And one day, it won’t hurt as much. But some things are worth the pain. And not to sound like a total fucking hippie, but—love is always worth it.” He patted my back and went back inside. I got what he was trying to say. Being with the person you loved was worth it, even if it hurt. It was better than the pain of not being with them at all.