DEAN: It’s hard to explain.

MIA: Okay...Well, can you explain why you haven’t been to school in a week? Why you’re not letting me come over to see you?

DEAN: No. That’s hard to explain too.

MIA: Okay.

DEAN: Okay.

DEAN: Enjoy your birthday, Mia. I really do mean that.

MIA: Totally shows.

I wait for her to text me something else, to act like the girl I fell in love with just months ago and say that she’s coming over regardless so I can finally tell someone about what really goes on in the shadows, but she never does.

I miss another week of school, we sporadically text here or there, and when I return to classes, we see each other and everything seems to be okay again. Everything seems cool, except the thin layer of resentment that’s beginning to build up in my chest.

I try to prevent it from spreading, but as the weeks pass, it only gets worse.

Four weeks before prom.

The final draft of Central high’s yearbook is revealed on a Friday and to my surprise (not really) I’m deemed “Mr. Popular” again. What’s a complete surprise though is the newly crowned “Miss Popular”: Mia Gray.

I had no idea she’d actually taken me up on my bet to run until I see the spread, but as she rushes over to me during lunch and hugs me, I tell her congratulations.

I tell her I want to go somewhere private to celebrate—just us, but I really need to talk to her about my dad. I need to ask for her advice about whether I should finally turn him in, or whether I should just request to do summer session at Harvard so I can move out early.

She doesn’t even give my private invitation much thought at all. She wants to hang out with the rest of the superlatives, and even though I’m happy that she’s finally enjoying her time in high school, it only makes me want to withdraw more. It only makes me feel like she’s putting me on the backburner for something I told her was superficial, something she never seemed to want before.

Two weeks before prom.

Today is the last day I’ll talk to Mia.

Today is the last day I’ll let her make me feel this way.

She hasn’t called to tell me happy birthday, hasn’t texted to ask why I’ve missed the fourth day of school in a row, and as the country club doctor attends to another set of wounds, I realize that I resent her. That I’m going to make her feel exactly how she’s made me feel...

Chapter 36

MIA

Present day.

“Where do you want these?” Autumn asks holding up a box labeled “art supplies.”

“Next to my easels over there,” I say, pointing towards the dining room. I bring in the last box from the hall and take a moment to look around my new home. It’s nowhere near as extravagant as Eric’s place but since he’s paying for it, I can’t complained. Right after that argument with Dean in the rain that night, I immediately called Autumn. I told her I was pulling a Bff trump card and I needed her to come to Portland ASAP. No questions asked. Still reeling, the second I arrived home, I started packing my things and I called a twenty four hour mover service. I also called Eric, voice trembling, and told him I was moving out.

“Moving out?” He said. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To a hotel for a couple of days but I’m having all of my stuff put into storage, because I just can’t live here anymore.”

“Mia, you’re not making any sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense. I just wanted to let you know.”

“You don’t have enough money to live anywhere in this city alone.” He’d sounded irritated. “You don’t have a car of your own, your job pays you in shit, and you—“ He paused. “How much do you need?”

I told him that I had no interest in taking his money, but he insisted and made it clear that he could more than afford it. In the middle of the movers coming to get my stuff, he managed to contact one of his non-disclosure clients and she’d agreed to meet me at a small condo on the other side of the waterfront. Keys and all. No questions asked.

I’ve’ managed to hold back my tears for two days, but I’m probably going to make it through today without crying. I can only hold so much more inside, especially with everything around me reminding me of what situation brought me here.

“Mia? Hello?” Autumn waves a glass in front of my face.

“Sorry.” I grab the glass and add it with the others in the cabinet.

“Are you okay? I was calling your name for a long time,” She says looking worried.

“I’m fine.” I offer a half-smile.

“Mia, you’re not fine, I don’t expect you to be fine right now.”

“Good, because I finally admit that I’m not.”

“You’re not going to talk about it today are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, well we won’t talk about it today then.” She uses the hem of her t-shirt to wipe my face.

“How about Friday?”

“Friday I can probably do.”

Just like that, an emotional conversation that would undoubtedly lead to a mental breakdown, has been avoided. That’s what I love about Autumn, she knows me so well, she’s well aware that talking about it isn’t going to make it any better right now. I still need time to process everything, and unfortunately that ‘everything’ includes what happened ten years ago all over again as well.

She helps me unpack the first set of boxes in my living room and she doesn’t ask me any questions or turn on any music. We work around each other in utter silence, and every now and then, she walks up to me and pulls me into her arms for a hug.

Later that night, she buys a vintage bottle of white wine, and sets two sleeping bags against my bare bedroom floor. As I lay down for a nap, she decides to takes on the task of going through all my personal items, and removing all traces of Dean before phase two unpacking tomorrow.

Once she’s done, I’m not yet ready to turn in for the night, so we go to the store and buy paint for an accent wall where my bed will eventually go. We paint the wall an emerald green, but then I remember that particular color reminds me of Dean’s eyes, so we repaint the wall beige. Beige ends up being fucking boring so we go back over it with the green again. It doesn’t looks as green this time, or at least that’s what I plan on telling myself.

Chapter 37

MIA

The next morning Autumn wakes me up with hot coffee and a bag of toasted bagels from the café across the street.

“So,” she says, handing me a packet of cream cheese. “What do you want to do today since the rest of your furniture won’t be here until later?”

“I want to convince you to stay for another week. No, wait, you’ve only been here two days so far. Can you make it three weeks?”

“I would if I could.” She smiles. “But I don’t have a lenient boss and I’m pretty sure my fiancé won’t appreciate that.”

“I can’t believe you and Jacob lasted all this time. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, we’re so not going there today. Answer my question, what do you want to do today?”

“I was thinking about going up to the roof and standing at the edge. Then jumping.”

“Okay. Dramatic much?”

“Sorry.”

“You know what, I have the perfect pick me up,” she says, walking over to the corner and retrieving her laptop. She gets back into her sleeping bag and motions for me to do the same.

“Online shopping?”

“Better, online dating.”

“You’re not serious right now?”

“I’m completely serious, you know what they say: The best way to get over a guy is to get under another.”

“Yeah...I’m pretty sure that only applies after some significant time has passed.”

“Some significant time has passed, this is day three.”

“Could you please be serious for five seconds?”