One Time, Badly Read online

  “Same, she got all the good genes, she’s smarter than me too.”

  “You’re a good brother, I don’t even have to see you with her to know. You’re all smiley and proud when you talk about her. It’s sweet.”

  “Good timing, I just started considering sweet a compliment. It used to make me cringe, but now I see it for what it really is.”

  “What is it really?”

  “Well, it’s you saying you like me.”

  “Whoa, what? That's not what I said," Cecelia was doing her best to keep up with the quick turn their conversation had taken. What the hell?

  “I think it might've been what you meant, though," the fact that he was smiling at her, clearly pleased that he'd knocked her off her guard, was not helping things. She felt herself blink once, twice.

  "You're kind of crazy, has anyone ever told you that before?" Cecelia popped a fry into her mouth to slow down the pace of the conversation. She took a second to chew and swallow. "I don't like you. I don't even know you."

  "You might like me though, if I hadn’t acted like such a jackass the last time we saw one another," he was watching her closely, trying to gauge her reaction to this topic of conversation.

  "That I'll agree with," Cecelia met his gaze.

  "I've been wanting to apologize to you for that, but I figured a text would just seem dumb at this point. I saw you in the kitchen for a second and I looked for you later on, but I was pretty messed up pretty early on and I guess you'd left by that point."

  "It's alright. It's not like you owed me anything. I'm not going to deny that I went to the party hoping to see you, but you were hosting so I shouldn't have expected you to be able to just ignore everyone else for me."

  "I know I didn't owe you anything, but I invited you there so that we could hang out. All I'm saying is that I'd be pissed if you invited me to a party and didn't even bother to say hi to me. That's my bad and I'm sorry for it. But I don't want it to seem like I just blew you off. I knew I messed up at the party and I didn't really know what to say so I just dropped it, which obviously didn't help anything either," He was clearly still not quite sure how to handle the conversation, if his rambling was any indication.

  "Max, please. This is totally unnecessary. It's really fine," she was trying her best to make her voice sound light, but the whole thing was making her feel as awkward as she'd felt the night it happened.

  "What I really want to say is that I've been thinking about you. I was honestly just kidding about the whole 'FOMO on Cecelia' thing at first, but I've been feeling it for the past few weeks and I'm happy that we ran into one another. And thank you for coming to lunch with me," he nodded his head in conclusion. He'd said what he'd meant to say, that was that.

  "Alright, if we're being this honest then I have to say that I was really bummed about the party. I even littered on your porch on my way out, it was that bad," she lifted her shoulders and let them drop back down.

  "Wait, are you saying that you left about 80 disgusting solo cups on the front porch? That was you? Damn, you really were pissed off," he shook his head, taking another bite of his donut.

  "Max," she groaned. "Don't make fun of me! What happened to the nice apology that you were in the middle of?"

  "My long-winded apology is officially over. Do you accept it?"

  "I do. It wasn't necessary, but I appreciate it."

  "Cool. If it makes you feel any better, I made an ass of myself. I walked straight into a wall at the end of the night and bit through my lip. It was one of the dumbest things I've ever done and I got blood everywhere."

  "Wish I could've seen it, Max. I really do."

  "You would've loved it. I woke up with a fat lip and I ruined my favorite shirt. I wore it just for you and now it's in the garbage."

  "Please don't complain about ruined clothes to me, Max."

  "Heard and understood, Cecelia. Heard and understood."

  Max called her that night, to the absolute shock of every other girl in the study lounge. They'd all had different work to get done, so they'd grabbed their headphones and some communal snacks and headed to the main floor of their building, where the nicest lounge was located.

  With new chairs and ample outlets, it was by far the best place to get homework done except for the library, which Cecelia reserved for emergencies only. Lou and a few of their other friends would often head there to get away from the distractions of their dorm building, but everyone knew that if Cee showed up she was most likely drowning in some type of workload crisis.

  When her phone began vibrating from where it sat next to her Macbook on the swing-around desk attached to her chair, Max's name clearly displayed, they all looked at one another with eyebrows raised. Cecelia's hand hovered over the phone for a split second, her nerves getting the best of her.

  "A phone call, Cee? Better watch out, he might not know how to spell," Lou joked and the others burst out laughing.

  Cecelia shot them a look and accepted the call as she hopped out of the chair and walked through the doors to sit on a bench outside.

  "You just shook every single one of my friends to their core with this call," Cecelia said by way of hello.

  "Oh yeah? What about you? Feeling shook in any way, shape, or form?"

  "Nah, I'm good. Believe it or not, I can speak. Although it has been called into question whether or not you can spell."

  She could hear him let out a laugh on the other end of the line and she smiled at that. There was such an ease between them. She hated those nervous first few weeks in the beginning of most relationships, but they were just chugging right along. She credited the ridiculousness of their previous meetings for that. There was really nowhere to go but up from there.

  "So, what are you up to?" Max said as his laughter died away.

  "Just getting some work done, thinking I might want to get started on an essay I have due at the end of the week."

  "Ah, I'm glad you brought that up. I was going to ask you about your end of the week plans."

  "Weekend plans? Not much, probably just going out with the girls. My friend Lou mentioned heading to Theta again maybe."

  "I gotta give it to you, Cecelia. You stay one step ahead of me. I've been trying to catch up to you and it's just not going my way."

  "Ah, but I can't seem to outrun whichever drink you've chosen to enjoy at a given moment."

  "Touché, low blow, but touché."

  "So you're going to Theta, too."

  "I am."

  "Well, then I guess I'll see you there."

  "You most definitely will. That FOMO on Cecelia thing just keeps getting worse."

  "Glad to hear it, Max. I have to get back inside, but I'll talk to you later?"

  "You can expect a text with really big, hard to spell words and all I ask is that you show it to whom it may concern."

  "Goodnight, Max." she said with a laugh.

  "Night, Cecelia."

  By the time Friday rolled around, Cecelia was desperate for a night out. She'd put that essay off until the last minute and had ended up forfeiting half of her night's sleep drawing comparisons between the representation of 'tomb' and 'womb' in Toni Morrison's 'Beloved'. She tended to work well under pressure and was happy with the final product when she reread it this morning, but she just wished she could put up a better fight against her tendency towards procrastination once in a while. She'd then had two classes and a shift at her part-time job at the visitor center coffee shop to struggle through. Her exhaustion had somehow worn off, leaving her wired.

  Max texted her around 8 pm, making sure she was still planning on coming to the party and she felt a wave of excitement run up her spine. She gave it a second, then texted back that she'd be there around 10. This gave her and the girls a chance to get dressed and have a few drinks at the dorm before heading to the frat house. She so wished she was able to just throw on a pair of jeans and sneakers and head to a dive bar, but she was 8 months away from that wonderful bit of freedom.

 
She tried to focus on the fun aspects – free drinks, no bartenders to flag down - rather than the downsides. It was this thought that was interrupted by Lou bursting into their shared dorm room, a discreet coffee cup in hand, which judging by the look on her face, was most definitely not holding coffee.

  "Cee! It's your big night!" Lou squealed as she began rummaging around her closet, pulling a satin shirt off of one hanger and unclipping a patterned skirt from another one. She began to change into her outfit as Cecelia started on her own makeup, having already decided on what to wear.

  "Oh come on, Lou. It’s no big deal." Cecelia smirked at herself in the mirror as she waited for Lou's reaction.

  "Don't you dare! I'm living vicariously through you tonight, don't play it like you're not even a little bit excited."

  "I'm totally kidding. He just texted me and I almost threw up. Get your straightener out, I need you to do my hair."

  And with that, Lou let out a scream and rushed to get her "hair station" ready for her best friend.

  Cecelia walked into the frat house with a bounce in her step and her favorite mini dress on. She'd texted Max to let him know she was on her way, and he'd told her to meet him in the kitchen when she got there. Apparently he was wrapped up in an intense game of flip cup and he couldn't get away to meet her at the door. The fact that he'd even thought to escort her into the party was enough for her. This was college after all; she wasn't expecting to be drowning in chivalry.

  The second she walked into the kitchen and met Max's eyes, she knew she was in deep, deep trouble.

  He was wearing one of those quarter-length sleeved baseball style shirts that should've come off as boyish, but always just looked hot instead, paired with jeans that fit like he'd had them tailored to his frame and the same sneakers he'd had on the night that they'd met. He'd clearly been running his hand back through his hair. She was willing to bet it was the result of the aforementioned stressful game of flip cup and she was so thankful to whoever had invited him to play.

  He smiled at her like she'd walked in carrying a birthday cake in one hand and a million dollars in the other and she was just so sold. All she wanted to do was kiss him, right there in the middle of the packed kitchen, but she just stood there in the doorway as her friends began complaining behind her. Why'd you stop? Do you see him? Is someone in your way, move them!

  Max's smile only grew as he turned away from the beer-drenched table and walked across the room towards her. He didn't stop when he reached her, instead he grabbed her head in his hands and laid one on her that, to this day, she couldn't shake.

  2018

  September

  Just the memory of that first real kiss between them had her shivering now, at 26 years old on a busy New York City street. It was the feeling in her gut when he stepped back from her, that smile on his face taking a lazier look, that had her convinced that this man would mean something more to her than she'd felt before. And she was right, she was so right in that moment. He was more than more had ever been before.

  It struck her as odd, she remembers, the immediate connection that she’d felt to him. She’d never had that before, never so strong, and never so quick. She wasn’t just thinking about him. She was losing time going over the things he said, and the way he said them. And she couldn’t wait to hear what he’d come up with next.

  He was so different than anyone she’d ever met before, and so very different from the person she’d expected him to be when she followed him through the crowded halls of a frat house she would’ve forgotten years ago had it not flashed before her eyes a million times. Whenever she thought of seeing him for the first time. Whenever she thought of all of the signs she’d missed along the way.

  She remembers the guilt of knowing deep down that she wasn’t doing a good job making time for her friends, but Max was new and she was obsessed in that way that makes a person forget certain things, like who they were before. But, just like she knew it wasn’t right, she also knew that her friends would understand. Because they’d all been there, and it doesn’t stay that way. The balance comes with a little bit of time.

  It’s like your world revolves around him they would say, wearing the same accusatory looks on their faces. She knew she was supposed to deny it immediately, she was supposed to claim that she still had the same priorities as before she’d let him swipe her into the over-crowded dining hall and watched him eat more food than could’ve possibly been healthy. But, that wasn’t the truth.

  She found no reason to be ashamed that she’d opened her heart so completely. He’d made her so uniquely happy that she wasn’t sure how not to hold him dear. The way she saw it, her world wasn’t revolving around him, but around a distinct bliss that he happened to be holding in his outstretched hands.

  It was the feeling he gave her, of being so strong and happy that it couldn’t possibly ever fade. Even just the memory of it would be enough to go off of forever. And she felt that she might be the first person in the history of the world to live forever. Or maybe there was a secret society of immortals that walked among us and she was about to find out that she belonged to it. That was the way he made her feel.

  To this day, she’d tell you the one thing that set Max apart from any other sorta-maybe-boyfriend was his ease in courting her. He didn’t seem to question the trajectory of their relationship; he went with the flow, making everything feel like the natural next step. Sometimes he pushed them forward, like the kiss in the kitchen of that party, completely out of the blue. And it felt natural, and from then on when they hung out there was always a little bit of kissing involved. And, because she had no experience with any of this, she let him set the pace.

  He took her cues and slowed down when she started getting nervous, and was happy to sit back and let her take the lead once her confidence grew. His ease put her at ease, his confidence made her bolder. She would always be grateful for that. The way he taught her to be confident in this way without ever pointing out that it was something she was lacking.

  She was in love with him by January. Completely besotted, and completely unashamed. As far as Cecelia was concerned, there was no luckier girl on the planet than the one that got Max Maylor. And it was her, and she was trying to be cool about it, but sometimes all she could think to say was your face is my favorite face, your hands are my favorite hands, your arms are my favorite arms. Is there any thing about me that’s your favorite thing? Are my hands your favorite hands?

  Cecelia and Max existed blissfully in the bubble that is college all the way through graduation. And the bubble was beautiful, and the bubble was pure magic, and then the bubble burst.

  She felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her jacket, signaling a new text message. It was probably from Lou, asking why she was late. She'd told her she'd be there around 7, but her choice to walk had held her up and she found that she was already 15 minutes late. Normally, Lou wouldn't have cared or probably even noticed, but she knew her friend was probably nervous that she'd bail at the last minute.

  Instead, the message only read two words. He's here.

  And with that, Cecelia shook the shiver from her spine and let her steps falter. She took a second, squared her shoulders and began to walk again. He was there, and soon, she would be too.

  Chapter 7

  2012

  January – May

  There is a certain variety of happiness that translates to pure energy. It's a form of adrenaline and there's got to be a scientific explanation for this; some mix of chemicals that breathes life into your body, endorphins raging through your system. Either way, it's addictive. It makes everything brighter, it makes everything easier.

  Max seemed to have too much energy for his own body now. He was always fidgeting; he could never sit still. It was as if his body just couldn't contain all that was going on inside of it. Sometimes Cecelia would watch him, his hands in constant motion, drumming on the table in front of him or running through his hair, and wonder if some of that was her affect on him.
She really hoped so.

  She credited him for the extra mile per day she was running, for the schoolwork that was getting done even though she was barely getting four hours of sleep a night. It just all seemed very possible to her. She wasn't even tired. And, when she did sleep, there was no tossing or turning. It was pure, sleep-of-the-dead magic and it was doing her a world of good.

  She made it to work on time, she made it to class almost on time, and she especially made it to Max on time. The house he shared with six of his buddies was disgusting to say the least. Like, should-be-condemned levels of grossness. Dirty dishes and layers of dust didn't even begin to cover the damage of this place. She tried not to look around when she walked through.

  Max's room, which he shared with a nice enough kid named Adam, was decently clean. At least it smelled nice, despite the piles of laundry everywhere. For the most part, this is where they hung out. It wasn't any more private than her place, but it somehow seemed like it was because it was technically off campus.

  But, with Louisiana away for the night and the chance to have a room with a bed all to themselves with no roommate just feet away, it was her dorm that they were in tonight. Max had gotten out of class late and showed up at her door around 10pm, take away in hand.

  "Sorry, the professor honestly wouldn't stop talking. He ran an extra 20 minutes for absolutely no reason," if the look on his face was any indication, that hadn't been the only thing to go wrong for him throughout the day. He looked beat.

  He popped a quick kiss on her mouth as he entered the room and tossed the bag in his hand on her desk as he made his way over to the bed.

  "Don't you want to eat that?"

  "I already had two burgers on my walk over, that's just some extra fries if you want them," he was already sprawled face down on her bed, shoes kicked off haphazardly along the way.

  "I'm good."

  "Well, then come on over here. I missed you today," he rolled onto his back and propped himself up against her headboard. It was the coziest that her dorm bed had looked in ages.