Artie
I couldn't do it. When Miles walked through the door I could practically feel Marissa waiting for me to say goodbye, but I just couldn't do it.
I thought maybe it was because the last time I said goodbye to him I didn't see him for twelve years.
Maybe I was still weak from my complete breakdown, too.
Maybe, I was just weak.
When he said his plans were up in the air, my mouth was moving without conscious thought. Peripherally, I caught Marissa's glowering, but I was focused solely on the way Miles beamed at whatever it was I said.
His smile filled me and immediately I was reminded of why being around him was so dangerous.
I almost fell into the spiral, but I dragged myself out of it.
I decided to let myself enjoy my time with Miles, just for a few days.
********
Miles
The drive to Portland was about two hours, and most of it Artie and Marissa were jabbering. I was in the back. Not sure how the tallest one got stuck sitting bitch but I'm sure Marissa had something to do with it. So I sat in the middle, right in her rear view..
They tried to include me in conversation but my responses were minimal. Eventually, they just continued on without me, going a million miles a minute. They were going so fast their conversation was practically unintelligible nonsense to me anyway. I think they were discussing a T.V. show?
Honestly, I was thinking about Nat. I thought about her the whole time I was at the gym and I was still thinking of her then.
When I saw Artie crying, I sprang to action. There was no thinking involved, my inner monologue completely silent. I was driven purely by instinct. The sadness and desperation behind his eyes, they killed me. I would have done whatever it took to bring him some peace. Even before, when I just suspected Artie was struggling with something, I was proactive. I was calling Marissa or trying to get him to open up.
With Nat, I knew for months she was dissatisfied with me. And I did nothing. I let her fall to the wayside.
It was like I completely forgot about her. I was angry and disappointed in myself.
********
Marissa's place was nice, much nicer than she made it out to be. On the way there she forewarned us that she had a two bedroom, but the bedrooms weren't much. She said the entire place was small, even called it a shoebox.
But, her apartment building was impressive. It was an old building, or at least the architecture made it look like one. Gleaming fixtures and marble everywhere. Romanesque columns and tasteful furniture. The completely gold elevator was playing fucking soft jazz.
When we walked into her apartment on the top floor the last thing I noticed was the size. The entire wall of her dining area was floor to ceiling windows overlooking the bay..
"Damn, Marissa... Nice digs." I dropped my shit and walked straight to the windows.
"Nice digs." She mocked me.
"Are you thirteen?"
"Yeah, thirteen inches deep in your mom." I said to the window as I flipped the bird over my shoulder.
"Hey!" I heard Artie yell.
"That's my joke." He said.
Marissa muttered to herself, shaking her head and exiting the room.
I went back to admiring the view.
"C'mon." Artie grabbed my forearm and pulled me away from the windows.
Marissa gave us a tour of her apartment, which took all of five minutes. Her apartment was nicely decorated, in a way that was so cohesive I know it must have been pre-furnished. The primary bedroom had a decent sized ensuite and like the guest bedroom and the dining area, had giant fucking windows. I'd kill to live in a place with a view like that
"You guys can put your stuff in here." Marissa said as she showed us to our room
The guest bedroom definitely fit the description of 'shoe box'. It was large enough for a queen bed and a dresser. That was about it. There were tiny, and I mean tiny, bedside tables on either side of the bed. Stools, basically they were stools.
"Your parents don't want the bed?" I asked the room.
There were maybe two long seconds of complete and utter silence. Nobody said anything, nobody moved. The air went thick and still.
Artie and Marissa's eyes met for a split second, before Marissa responded as if nothing happened.
"Just us three, this year." She turned around and walked straight out of the room.
"Bathroom is across the hall, extra linens are in the bathroom closet. I'm going to start dinner in a couple of hours, so do whatever." Marissa yelled as she walked to her bedroom.
I didn't know what the fuck to do. I hate it when that shit happens, people communicate paraverbally while I'm right there. I can never fucking pick up on what's going on. My first instinct was to pick Artie up, baseball pitch him onto the bed, and then wrestle information out of him. But family shit... clearly, he didn't share for a reason.
So instead, I schooled my features and pretended nothing happened just like Marissa. Artie's relief was nearly imperceptible, but I caught it. The slightest sigh of relief when I just started moving our shit from the entryway to our room.
"You brought the switch?" Artie asked as he eyed the case peeking out of my duffle.
"Duh." I handed it to him.
He disappeared in a flash, and as I was unpacking my shit I could hear furniture moving around and wires slapping the floor.
Fuck it, unpacking could wait. I charged to the living room, ready to destroy Artie at his video game of choice.
*********
Artie
Soft acoustic music was playing off of the speaker in the kitchen, starkly contrasted by me and Miles' shouting and wrestling on the couch.
Occasionally, when Miles and I would cause a jarring enough noise from hitting the floor, or the wall, or the furniture, Marissa would yell at us to break it up. We'd cool down for a minute. But, inevitably we'd get right back to it pushing and smack-talking, trying to sabotage each other.
I'm pretty sure Miles was letting me win, but I beat him a bunch of times.
Either way, I still rubbed it in his face.
Just a few hours before, everything felt empty. I felt empty. My life, the dorm, everything. It was only the three of us in the apartment, but to me it was a full house. The two most important people to me were together under one roof, it was hard to be worried about much of anything.
The aroma of whatever it was Marissa was cooking wafted in from the kitchen and my mouth was watering. I hadn't had much of an appetite lately, but suddenly it was back in full force. I was getting fidgety, I was so hungry.
When Marissa announced dinner was ready Miles and I glanced at each other for maybe a millisecond, before racing to the table.
Clearly, Miles and Marissa got over whatever they had against each other because while I was inhaling my food, they were talking it up. Miles told Marissa about the business frat, what he's been making me do in the gym, how classes have been. He was a real chatterbox today, and he had this grin on his face all through dinner. I appreciated it. Not only did it give me time to eat, but it was like taking an antidepressant.
I remembered briefly I was supposed to be "recalibrating", sans Miles. But looking over the table at him and Riss, I knew it would've been stupid to deprive myself of this feeling.
I ate until I was too lethargic to continue lifting my fork. But we just sat around the table full of empty dishes, talking and laughing. Marissa used to be in the same business fraternity we were and she was recounting her many antics from her time on campus.
I couldn't believe there was a time I ever thought business fraternities were professional.
Soon, even leaning back in my chair wasn't enough. I needed to be horizontal, so I excused myself from the table. Probably not the most courteous but I was nearly debilitated by the pressure in my stomach. So, Marissa and Miles could eat a bag.
Miles, being Miles, cleared the table without a word. Pretty sure I heard him loading the dishwasher, too. But, I was already half out of it laying all the way across Marissa's minuscule couch.
"You don't have to do that." Marissa said, but I knew how much she hated doing dishes.
"I don't mind at all, you made dinner." More clanging.
