Chapter 2 Bennett

Rebecca answers the door in her pajamas and a face mask. She takes one look at me and her face crumples.

"Oh no," she says. "Maddie."

"Becca," I whisper, forcing a small smile. "Surprise."

"Get in here," she pulls my hand inside and into the living room.

Becca's living situation and mine are both equally depressing but in different ways.

Becca's lease expired two months ago. Rather than sign somewhere new, she moved in with her boyfriend Theo's family. Theo's mom, from everything Becca has told me, is the kind of woman who irons her dish towels and notices when the throw pillows are one inch out of place.

It is, in other words, not exactly a relaxed environment.

But right now it is warm and quiet as Becca is steering me to the couch and pulling a blanket over my lap.

She disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two mugs of tea.

She sits cross-legged on the cushion beside me and turns to face me fully.

"What happened Maddie?" She asks. "Your eyes are blotchy. Talk to me."

So I do.

I tell her all of it in a flat voice. Becca's face tightens as I talk but she doesn't interrupt. She knows me well enough to know I need to get through it without stopping.

I tell her about opening the bedroom door.

I tell her who was in it.

"Wait. What?" Her eyes widen. "Kayla. You mean your stepsister Kayla."

"Yes."

"Maddie." She grabs both my hands, squeezing them hard. "I am going to need you to tell me this is a joke."

"It's not a joke."

"I am going to kill him," she says. "I am going to find Derek and I am going to end him. Fucking your step sister behind your back for nine months. He's such a pussy. An absolute spineless motherfucker."

I look down at my hands in hers and I notice the engagement ring still on my finger. The diamond catches the lamplight the way it always does. I stare at it for a moment.

Then I pull it off and set it on the coffee table.

"We planned the whole wedding already," I say more to the room than her. "The venue deposit is paid. I didn't know he was... I didn't even know something was wrong. I thought we were fine."

"I'm sorry, Maddie," Becca says. "I'm so genuinely sorry."

"I still love him." My eyes well up and I hate it, but I don't look away. "I know I'm supposed to already be past that part. I know I'm supposed to be furious right now, and I am, but I also just—" My throat closes. "Four hours ago I thought I was enough for him. I thought we were building something. And now I have to figure out how to stop loving someone I've spent three years loving, and I don't know how to."

A sob breaks out of me.

"Hey." Becca's arms come around me immediately, pulling me in, and that's when I stop trying to hold it together. "I know. I know. Let it out. I've got you."

So I do.

For a few minutes, I completely fall apart in my best friend's arms in a house that isn't even hers, and she holds me through all of it.

When it passes she pulls back slightly, still holding my shoulders.

"I know it hurts." She squeezes my arms. "It's supposed to hurt. You're allowed to let it hurt. But it will not always hurt this much, okay? I promise."

I wipe my face with the back of my hand and take a slow breath and try to locate whatever is left of my composure.

Then her mouth curves, just slightly. "Okay. Important question."

I look at her.

"Do we go to his apartment tomorrow and wreck his windscreen? Or just the tires? I feel like tires is more of a slow burn."

I laugh. "No car wrecking."

"Are you sure? Because I feel very strongly that—"

"Becca. We're not touching his car."

"Fine." She sighs like I've taken something from her. "But I want it on record that I was willing."

"Noted." I sit back against the cushion and feel the weight of the night settle over me. "Actually, I was thinking." I look at her. "Could I stay here with you? Just until graduation. A week, and then I'll find something more permanent. I just need somewhere to land."

What follows next is silence. A deafening one.

I stare at her her. "Becca?"

"Okay, just... don't be mad." She says. "You know I'm at Theo's mum's place?"

My stomach sinks.

"Maddie, if it were just me you would be on this couch so fast. You know that. But his mom has been looking for a reason not to like me since the day we met and if I bring home a surprise roommate without asking she will make Theo's life hell. She'll make my life hell." She finally looks at me. Her eyes are shiny. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Maddie. This is the worst timing in the world and I feel absolutely terrible."

"Hey," I say. "It's okay."

"It is not okay."

"It is. You didn't know this was going to happen." I squeeze her hands back.

"But I'm supposed to be of help," she says.

I press my lips together.

"It's fine," I say. "I'll figure something out. I just need to make some calls."

Becca looks at my for a long moment.

Then she grabs her phone off the coffee table.

"We," she says firmly. "We make the calls."

~~

For two hours we sit on the floor with our backs against the couch and work through every name we can think of.

Jamie is subletting illegally. Courtney has a studio so small her bed touched all four walls. Fatima had already gone home to Dubai the morning after her last exam, back in September. David felt terrible but he lived with three guys in a place with one working door on the entire floor.

By the time we reach the bottom of the list it is past midnight. We had migrated from the couch to the floor at some point, backs against the cushions, Becca's head on my shoulder, both of us staring at nothing.

"There has to be someone," Becca says. "Someone we haven't thought of."

"There isn't."

"There has to be," she mutters. "Wait... There's—"

"No," I say. I don’t even know who she’s thinking of, but I know that look.

"I haven’t even said it yet."

"You have your 'I’m about to suggest something terrible' face."

"It's not terrible. It’s... a house. With a spare room. My cousin."

I wait. "Which of your cousins?"

"Jaxson," she says.

I stare at her.

"He has a whole house on Caldwell. Really nice, Maddie, proper spare room, and he mentioned a few weeks ago he needed a live-in tutor for finals because of the draft prep and his GPA."

"Absolutely not."

"Just listen to me first."

"Becca." I turn to face her fully. "Jaxson Vane told me to my face sophomore year that my tutoring style was aggressively unpleasant. In front of four people."

"He's blunt but underneath all that, he's actually a nice person."

"He broke two people's noses last season."

"He plays hockey, that's practically bound to happen."

"He has a new girl every other week. Every single girl I know who has gotten within ten feet of him has a story that ends with her crying in a bathroom." I shake my head. "I would rather sleep in my broken rented car than spend six days in that man's house."

Becca looks at me for a long moment.

"Maddie," she says. "We just spent two hours calling every person we know and the answer was no from every single one of them. I love you more than anyone on this earth but I cannot let you stay here past six-thirty. That's just the reality."

I stare at the floor.

"It's one week, Maddie," Becca continues. "Seven days. You walk in, you do the tutoring, you sleep in your own room with a lock on the door, you walk out in a week with your diploma and your dignity fully intact. You don't even have to like him. You just have to coexist with him for seven days."

"You make it sound so simple."

"Because it kind of is." She reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear the way she's done since freshman year when I used to stress-cry before exams. "I know Jax. I grew up spending summers at his house. He is not going to make your life difficult. He needs the tutoring too much to do anything stupid. He knows that. You'd essentially have the upper hand the entire time."

I look at her. "You're not being objective. He's your cousin."

"I'm absolutely being objective," she says. "If he was genuinely awful I would not be suggesting this. I would be driving around with you looking for a twenty-four hour McDonald's with good Wi-Fi for you to live in." She pauses. "Although honestly that might still be an option if you want."

"Becca."

"Okay, okay." She takes my hands in hers. "Maddie. Look at me."

I look at her.

Her eyes are serious.

"You just had the worst night of your life," she says quietly. "Derek did something unforgivable and you are allowed to be furious and devastated and all of it. But you cannot let what he did take your graduation from you too. You have worked too hard for this degree. You are not going to miss that ceremony because you are sleeping in a parking lot somewhere." Her hands tighten around mine. "Don't let him take that from you too."

The room is very quiet.

I think about the graduation ceremony. My name being called. Walking across that stage.

Then I exhale.

"If Jax is weird about anything..."

"You call me immediately and I figure something out," Becca says. "I promise."

I look at her for one more moment.

"Fine," I say.

She squeezes my hands, nods once and reaches for her phone.

"I'll text him tonight so he knows you're coming in the morning," she says. "Get some sleep, Maddie. The couch is yours."

And just like that, early the next morning, I'm on my way to Jaxson Vane's house.

It takes me twenty five minutes to get there from Becca's. The streets are quiet at this hour.

Becca texted me the address along with a string of encouraging messages I did not respond to because I was driving and also because I was not ready to be encouraged.

I park across the street and sit there for a moment.

The house is not what I expected. Clean porch. A potted plant by the front step that is actually alive. Real curtains in the window. It is not exactly the picture I built on the drive over.

I get out of the car.

I cross the street with my duffel bag on my shoulder. I walk up the front path and stand at the door.

Then I knock.

The footsteps from inside are immediate. They get closer and the door opens and—

Jaxson Vane.

I have seen him a hundred times on campus. On sports banners, in the dining hall, across quads. He's hard to miss. I thought I knew what he looked like.

But there is something different about seeing him like this.

In his own doorway. Grey sweatpants sitting low. A worn navy t-shirt so washed out it has gone completely soft. Hair not quite dry from a shower, curling slightly at the edges. A bruise along his jaw, fresh and purpling. He is taller than I always remember.

His eyes drag over me slowly, top to bottom, the way boys like him look at things they find mildly entertaining.

Then the corner of his mouth moves.

"Bennett," he says, eyes still dragging over me. "You're early."

"Don't make this weird," I say.

"Wasn't planning to." He tilts his head. "You're smaller than I remember."

"Excuse me?"

"Relax." The corner of his mouth pulls up just slightly. "I just mean for someone who takes up so much space in a room."

I stare at him. He holds my gaze, completely unrattled.

I hated him sophomore year for being a blunt, arrogant jerk. I hate him right now for being the only thing standing between me and sleeping in my car for a week.

"Can I come in or not," I say.

"Door's been open this whole time, Bennett." He steps back and holds it wide. "Has been since you knocked."