The Art of Losing(16)

“Do you think I don’t hate myself for that?” Mike said. His voice was suddenly loud.

I took a step back.

“Not enough,” I said.

He scowled. “My life is over, Harley,” he said, quieter. “I lost my spot on the basketball and lacrosse teams, my friends aren’t allowed to talk to me, and now my girlfriend is dumping me. That’s not enough for you?”

“No,” I said. “You deserve to be where Audrey is.”

I left before he could reply. I ran down the hall, past his mom, who was listening at the bottom of the stairs, and out the door to my car. I had planned how I’d break up with Mike so many times, even before he’d cheated on me with Audrey. I hadn’t ever imagined it would be like this. I should have expected that Mike would once again make everything about Mike.

But at least it was over.





One Week Ago



I was hiding from Cassidy’s party, or I had been when I first escaped outside. Because I couldn’t feel out of place if I wasn’t in the place at all. But then I got caught up in an argument with a stranger on Twitter about what should happen in the next Marvel movie, and I finally started enjoying myself.

I didn’t even notice Mike—not until he eased down behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle and kissing the side of my neck.

“Ugh, gross,” he said, backhanding my sweat from his lips.

I leaned against him and rubbed my neck against his face. He scooted out of reach.

“Serves you right,” I said. “Who tries to cuddle in a heat wave?”

“Can you blame me?” he said. “This party is boring and you’re my favorite distraction.”

“You’re cute,” I said. “But it’s too hot. And I want to go home, where my air-conditioned bedroom is waiting.” I sighed heavily. Dramatically. “But I’m here for Cassidy, so I’m going to stay. For a while at least.”

“You wouldn’t stay for me?” Mike said and pushed his full lips into a pout.

I shook my head. “Nope. But when I’ve known you for ten years, you can take precedence every now and then.”

Mike rolled his eyes as he pushed up to his knees. He took a few extra seconds to steady himself, which is how I knew how many drinks he’d had. Somewhere around four. Wobbly, but not wasted.

He scoffed as he walked away, as if surprised that I wasn’t stopping him. Or joining him. He should have been used to it by now, but he always seemed to hold on to the hope that I would suddenly transform into the type of person who’d join him when he played beer pong or flip cup. And he always expected me to jump at the chance to apologize when I didn’t.

I picked up the plastic cup of beer he’d left behind for me and poured its contents over the side into the grass below. I was already planning my escape from the party, which meant driving and seeing my parents, neither of which I wanted to do drunk.

Unlike Mike, I actually cared about things like that.

I just hadn’t realized I was steering him into the arms of my little sister. I wished I’d known to enjoy those last few minutes of ignorance.





Chapter Five



That evening I went back to the hospital and put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Partly because I couldn’t seem to keep my mind off Mike and wanted to fantasize about removing him from my memory entirely. But also because I kept imagining Audrey lying there with her eyes closed, unable to move, but able to hear every single word that anyone said. Or didn’t say.

It was so quiet most of the time. She’d be so bored. And Audrey hated being bored. She was always asking me to do stuff with her, watch TV or a movie, play video games, go shopping. I snapped at her constantly, especially when she interrupted me while I was reading or hanging out with Cassidy.

By the end of the movie, I was crying. Again. Which Audrey would have loved. Well, mostly she would have been shocked that I was able to sit through it. But the fact that it had moved me to tears would have made her howl with delight.

I’d gotten myself together by the time Dad stopped by the room. I had moved on to Breakfast at Tiffany’s, one of Audrey’s favorites. She loved Audrey Hepburn even more than she loved Drew Barrymore. She’d even dressed as Holly Golightly for Halloween last fall. With her dark hair, pale skin, and lithe body, it was impossible not to see the resemblance.

“You should watch The African Queen,” Dad said after watching over my shoulder for a minute. “Katharine Hepburn had something Audrey never did: range. I’ve been telling Audrey that for years.”

I reached over my shoulder to grab his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll watch it with her when she wakes up,” I said.

He squeezed my hand back and then silently left the room, closing the door behind him.

I sat on the driveway that night, the pavement still warm from the heat of the day. I’d finished a cigarette a few minutes before, but I couldn’t go back inside yet. I smelled like smoke and Mom was still awake.

I looked up as Raf’s Jeep Wrangler pulled around the cul-de-sac. He waved through the window. I didn’t get up, but he walked toward me instead of going inside. Floyd’s tail thumped loudly on the ground and he let out a little whine of anticipation.

“Well, get up and go to him, if you’re that excited,” I said, shoving Floyd in the side. He stood slowly, giving Raf an open-mouthed doggy grin. Raf reached out for Floyd’s ears.