Face the Music (50 page)

I returned the look of confusion.  “
What?  There must be a mistake. 
I just registered last week.”  I repeated my student number, and she re-opened the account. 

She clicked on a few keys and shook her head.  “Nope, no mistake.  Your account holds a credit of ten thousand dollars.”  She scrolled further down the page.  “It was paid in cash, last Tuesday.”

“Ten thousand dollars! 
By who?”  I didn’t understand.
  

She printed a receipt.  “Maybe you have a mysterious benefactor.  Have a pleasant day.” 

I took the receipt and confirmed what she had said- ten thousand dollars credited to
the
account as of last Tuesday.  Impossible. 

Only one person came to mind when she sugge
sted a ‘mysterious benefactor’.  Chris.  B
ut it didn’t make sense. 
I broke up with him on
Monday.  The
money
had been
deposited
the day after.  Why would he be so generous after
what
I’d done?   

I went home that evening and told Emily. 

“Who else would have done it?  He did just win a million dollars, you know.”  She looked at me over her glass of milk.  “
He’s
not exactly hurting for money.”

I put my fork down.  “No way.  You weren’t there that night, you didn’t see him.  He was crushed.”  I glanced back down at the receipt.  “It has to be a mistake.  Someone probably went in to pay their bill and the cashier accidentally credited it to my account.  I’m sure they’ll find the error soon.” 

Emily shrugged.  “Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“Ha!  And say
what, exactly?  ‘Gee, Chris,
you probably think I’m the world’s biggest, most cold-hearted bitch ever, but did you happen to give me ten thousand dollars?’  He may be a nice
guy, Em, but he’s not a saint
.”

Chapter 26

The rest of May passed by quickly
,
but staying busy didn’t have the desired effect.  Instead of getting better, I found myself growing more and more miserable. 

Chris was everywhere- on the radio,
on
TV, in the magaz
ines, even on billboards and bu
ses.  I could not escape the image o
f Chris Knots.  Girls wore his t
-shirts
,
and music stores couldn’t keep his single in stock.  The only benefit I received from our separation was that the media had followed him.  Aside from the occasional article
speculating o
ur breakup, no one cared about me anymore.

And so I worked.  I completed every assignment well before the due date, tutored the summer school kids at the college, and worked in my advising professor’s lab. 

My days were long. 
I left the apartment around seven each morning and most nights didn’t get home until a
fter dark.  It was exhausting.

I wo
re a happy face during the day, hoping to hide how depressed I really was. 
Only when nighttime came, in the solitude of my own, quiet room, would I let myself fall apart.  I cried every night, and
,
after falling asleep
,
would dream about Chris, only to wake up the next morning feeling even more miserable.

I started running.  Each morning I got up before dawn and jogged around the city.  My muscles burned and quivered and begged for rest, but I pushed myself.  In those moments there was no room for Chris.  I thought only of the run, only of the physical pain, and each day I made myself go further.  Running made me feel as though I had some charge over my life.  The control was empo
wering.  It was my only escape.

The weeks passed, and I found myself a ch
anged person.  I was unfeeling,
almost numb inside.  Aside from the front I presented, I never smiled or laughed and rarely spoke unless spoken to.  I didn’t go out of my way to be polite and no longer took notice of insignificant details.  I was like a m
achine- get up, run, go to work, go to
school,
come home, and sleep.  Repeat.

Time held no meaning for me.  Minutes, hours, even days blurred together, and I sank into a depression that I didn’t want to get out of.  Somehow I believed that I deserved everything I’d gotten.  I left Chris, the only person who had ever made me truly happy.  Worse, I had hurt him.  I could see it in his pictures that he was still suffering.  I felt as though my depression, my own suffering, was somehow penance for that.

Yet, I didn’t regret my decision.  Deep down
,
I knew what I had done was for the best.  He would eventually move on, even if I never did.  His career would surpass anyone’s expectations without me there to drag it down.  Despite all the pain, I had done the right thing.  Any other explanation would have been unbearable.

Paul would call, occasionally, and ask how things were.  He’d heard through the grapevine that Chris and I were through
,
and
he
wanted to make sure I was okay.  When he offered to buy me a ticket to go up for a visit, I told him I appreciated the gesture
,
but
was really busy with school
.  The last thing I needed was to jump into a
nother relationship.

***

A couple weeks later, Emily came home from work excited because she had gotten tickets to a White Sox game.  They were scheduled to play the much rivaled Minnesota Twins.  It was supposed to be a big game, and the stadium was sold out.

“My boss has season tickets
,
but will be out of town, so she gave them to me!” Emily explained even though I hadn’t asked.

“That’s nice.”

She continued
,
despite my
obvious
lack of enthusiasm.  “I’ve got three.  You and Molly and I can all go.” 

I thought hard to come up with an excuse.  “Gee, Em.  I don’t know.  I
’m not really into baseball.
”

“I don’t care.  You’re going.”  She gave me a no-nonsense look.  Arguing would have been a waste of my time.

It had been a hot week, so as I was getting re
ady for the game that afternoon
I pulled on a pair of short blue-jean cut-offs and a lacy white cami.  I pulled my hair through the back of a baseball cap and finished the look with a pair of big, dark sunglasses.  They would at least hide the circles under my eyes.

Emily
was dressed similarly- black shorts and a grey tank.  The neckline of her top was studded with rhinestones.  A cap and some sparkly black flip-flops completed her outfit.  She looked me up and down.
  “Check you out! 
Running looks good on you.”

I shrugged a
nd thought nothing of the compli
ment.  I had noticed my legs were firmer and more muscular, and it felt nice to be strong, but I wasn’t doing it to look good.  I ran for the escape.

The s
tadium buzzed with excitement.  Birds sang.  Kids laughed. 
The guy who ripped my ticket was even whistling.  It was sickening.  But this was Molly’s first baseball game, and she was excited, so I did my best to act happy.  After grabbing a couple of hot dogs and a soda, we found our seats.

A group of people from the university were seated in the row in front of us.  Charlie, a guy in one of my classes, was among the faces.  He was from Minnesota
,
but rented an apartment near campus.  Though cute with his short black hair and blue eyes, he and I didn’t speak much.  It wasn’t that we w
ere on bad terms or anything,
I just didn’t say much to
anyone anymore
. 

Nevertheless, he greeted me as we sat down.
 
“
Allison
!  What a coincidence!”  He grinned and looked at Emily and Molly.

“Hi Charlie. 
This is my siste
r
,
Emily and her daughter
,
Molly.”  They all shook
hands
,
and I noticed his hat.  He was a Twins fan.  I crinkled my nose.  “Traitor.”

He looked at me, baffled, and I touched my White Sox cap. 

“Oh, yeah, gotta stay true to my hometown, you know,” he lau
ghed and beat
a fist against his chest.  “Go Twins!” 

A voice boomed over the speakers.  “Ladies and Gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem.  For your very special entertainment, here to kick off their summer tour, please give a warm welcome to Superstars
Chris Knots and Cynthia Strikes
!”

I thought I would vomit right
then and
there.  There he was, standing with Cynthia near the pitcher’s mound.

Did God hate me?  Had I wronged him in some past life?  It was bad enough that I couldn’t escape Chris everywhere else, but now he had to make a personal appearance at a baseball game that I just happened to be attending?

“Chris!!”  Molly squealed and jumped up and down in her seat.  “Mama
loooook
!”  She pointed to the field.  “It’s Chris!  Superstar Chris!!”  She yanked on my hand.  “Can we go say hi, Auntie Allie?  Pleeeeease!!”

All
those emotions I’d been trying so hard to work through crashed into me like a heavy freight train.  Even breathing became difficult.  I tried my best not to listen
to them sing
, but their perfect harmonies still found my ears.

The crowd cheered, and as if I wasn’t already suffering enough, I noticed that they held hands when they walked
off the field
.

I cringed and closed my eyes, trying to wrestle back the jealousy.  I was the one who walked a
way, after all.  It would be naïve
of me t
o expect him to never move on.  I
just never thought it would be with her.  I sat in perfect misery for some time.

Charlie was watching me
mope
.  “What’s up with you?”

I didn’t feel like hashing out the details, so I just shrugged.  My mood was shot, and though I kept my eyes on the field, my mind was miles away. 

Charlie tried to egg me on every time Minnesota scored, but I would just give him a weak smile and go back to staring at the game.  He finally gave up and turned back to his own group. 

During the fourth inning I took Molly to the bathroom, and when we came back, Charlie was sitting in
her spot. 
“I’v
e got it!” he announced
.  “I know where I’ve seen you before.”

I looked at him dryly. 
“Yeah, we have a class together, remember?” 

He shook his head.  “No, before that.  I knew
the first time I saw you that I’d
seen you somewhere else.  You’re with Knots, aren’t you?”  He nodded eagerly.  “I saw you in the news.  You two are an item.”