Lead Me Not (30 page)

I just hoped I wouldn’t regret my decision to stay.

chapter

twenty

aubrey

m
y heart had betrayed me.

It held me prisoner to a fierce whirlwind of emotions that were unfamiliar and overpowering.

Taking care of Maxx, seeing his brutal struggle, had altered something inside me. I had stopped looking at him as the man he wanted me to see, and I began to view him as the person he
was.
The sad, lonely, scared boy who had lost so much and was trying to hold on to the last little bit of control he had.

Seeing him at his worst had inexplicably softened me toward him. The last bricks in my formerly impenetrable wall had come crashing down. A shift had taken place. I no longer just thought about fixing him. My feelings had become more complicated than that. More confusing.

And a hell of a lot deeper.

And while I was still petrified as the parameters of our relationship stretched and strained to make room for this new reality, I was also eager for it. I wanted it. I wanted
him
.

I should have been wary and hesitant. Here I was, jumping into a heady, soul-consuming relationship with a guy I had met under the most unconscionable of circumstances.

Where was the girl who worried about screwing up? She had apparently taken a backseat to the girl who was discovering true emotional connection for the first time.

I knew it was wrong. I was already paranoid that people would catch on, that when my classmates looked at me, they’d see a girl doing something she definitely wasn’t supposed to be doing.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

Leaving Maxx’s apartment was jarring. I had lived in this self-contained bubble for two days, forgetting that anything or anyone existed outside of it. It was easy to forget about trivial things like schoolwork and friends when I was in Maxx’s world. That was how quickly he absorbed me.

But reality was a cold, hard slap in the face when I realized as I left that tonight I’d have to face Maxx in an entirely different setting, one that would most likely be trying and difficult and definitely more than a little bit awkward.

Support group.

Renee was home when I returned from Maxx’s apartment. I had texted her over the last two days, explaining my absence as school-related. She hadn’t questioned me. I hadn’t really expected her to. She was too busy trying to get her own floundering life back on track now that Devon was out of the picture.

She had been happy to see me, and I was tempted to tell her everything about Maxx—about what had happened to him at the club, about why I had been gone for the last two days.

Once upon a time there was a good chance I would have done just that. But given the tenuous footing our friendship was on, I wasn’t comfortable with the thought of sharing Maxx with her yet.

It felt crappy to lie to her, to look her in the eyes and tell a story that was one hundred percent not true. But I was faced with little other option.

Renee mentioned that Brooks had been by several times and that he seemed less than happy. She looked as though she wanted to question me about it all, and I was thankful when she didn’t.

That was yet another part of my story that I didn’t want to
share with Renee. And I’d have to deal with Brooks and his hurt disapproval soon enough.

My phone rang just as I was walking across campus toward the psychology building for group that evening. I was surprised to see Kristie Hinkle’s number on my screen.

“Hello?” I said after answering.

“Aubrey, I’m glad I got hold of you. I’m sorry to call so close to the start of group, but I’m going to need you to be the head facilitator tonight.”

Shit!

“Why?” I asked bluntly, cringing at my rudeness, but her news had thrown me.

Kristie let out a wet cough. “I’m sick,” she answered shortly, but the fact that she was hacking up phlegm was all the answer I needed.

“Can’t we cancel?” I asked, hoping she was feverish enough to go along with that suggestion. Facing Maxx so soon after everything that had transpired, and in such a challenging setting, felt like a recipe for disaster.

One would hope that I could trust my abilities to remain professional and dispassionate. But the second I had acted on my feelings, and had allowed Maxx into my life, those nicely constructed boundaries flew, suicide-style, straight out the window.

I didn’t trust myself . . . at all.

I wasn’t sure if I could look at Maxx during group and not see the boy who had just bulldozed his way into my life and my heart. I was still raw and reeling from the realization of how much my feelings toward him had changed.

How would I ever be able to treat him like everyone else? Because he most certainly was
not
like everyone else.

I was a mess. A giant pile of my-life-is-out-of-control mess.

“No, that’s not an option. We can’t disrupt the flow of the group, particularly at this point. I need you to step up tonight,
Aubrey. I trust that you’ve read over the lesson plan,” Kristie said in between mucus-filled hacks. Yuck.

“Uh, yeah. I reviewed it last week,” I answered, clearing my throat. There was no way to get out of this.
Suck it up, Aubrey, and pull up your big-girl panties.

“I really think this could be a great opportunity for you to gain some valuable facilitating time. Starting tonight there will be another counseling student on hand as an observer. He will be able to step in should you need it,” Kristie said. Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.

And then I realized what she’d just said.

“Another student?” I asked. Just great, someone else to witness my abject humiliation.

“Dr. Lowell called me earlier to say that one of her senior symposium students needed a few more observation hours before graduation and asked to sit in on the group for the remainder of the semester. I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet, and I wrote his name down but it’s at the office.”

Apparently the universe liked to fuck with me. I had somehow become the brunt of a huge cosmic joke. I should have known who that student would be.

And when I walked into the classroom a few minutes later to find Brooks setting up the chairs, I could only laugh at the ridiculousness that was my life.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to get my almost hysterical laughter under control.

Brooks looked up, giving me that “you’re bat-shit crazy” look he was so fond of.

“Didn’t Kristie call you?” he asked coldly. His iciness put the kibosh on my amusement.

“You’re the senior sitting in?” I asked stupidly.

“Obviously,” he muttered, his face purposefully turned away
from me. The distance between us was becoming uncomfortably familiar. I hated that I was getting used to his cold shoulder, that his disdainful disappointment was a frequent visitor.

“Well, um, that’s great,” I lied.

Brooks slammed the last chair onto the ground with a loud bang before he turned to face me. “Where have you been for the last two days, Aubrey? I’ve tried to call you. I went by your apartment, but Renee said you had schoolwork to do.” He made quotes with his fingers. He was really, really mad.

“Yeah, if ‘schoolwork’ is Aubrey-ese for that druggie I saw you with on Saturday night. So why don’t you explain what the hell that was about?” Brooks walked across the room until he stood directly in front of me. I had never felt intimidated by Brooks. It wasn’t in his nature to be aggressive. But right now I felt like kneeing him in the nuts and running out of the room. I didn’t appreciate the way he was looking at me as though I had just beamed down from the planet I Make Stupid Decisions.

“Um . . . ,” I stumbled. Lie, lie, lie. That’s all I was doing anymore.

Brooks took my hand, his face softening. “Aubrey, you can talk to me,” he promised, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. I opened my mouth, not sure what would come out.

Maybe I’d tell him the whole sordid truth. Maybe I’d stick to the schoolwork story.

Maybe I’d start speaking in tongues while my head rotated a full 360 degrees.

Someone cleared his throat before I could find out.

I looked over my shoulder to find Maxx, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. Our eyes met, and a flash of heated awareness blazed between us. He looked better. The dark circles weren’t as pronounced, and his skin was less sallow.

Maxx’s gaze darted down to my hand, where it was still held by
Brooks, and I instantly pulled away. I shot a look at Brooks, who narrowed his eyes.

Maxx entered the room and took his usual chair, never looking away from me. I licked my lips nervously, my mouth suddenly dry. My cheeks and neck flushed, and I knew without a doubt that tonight would be a lesson in avoidance.

Brooks walked over to Maxx and held out his hand. “I’m Brooks. I’m going to be sitting in tonight. What’s your name?”

Maxx looked at Brooks’s outstretched hand and then returned his eyes to me, ignoring him completely.

The silence was deafening as it became apparent that Maxx wasn’t planning to answer.

“This is Maxx Demelo,” I hurriedly answered for him. Brooks’s lip curled up in a sneer before he turned his back to Maxx. His expression said it all. He was going to make this as awkward and difficult as possible.

Just flipping fabulous.

Thankfully, the rest of the group members arrived after that. Brooks went around introducing himself to the others, and I couldn’t help but be impressed with how easily he interacted with them, even Evan and April. He spoke with them, and they responded with a lot less venom than I was used to seeing. Of course, Brooks was a natural.

A natural pain in
my ass
.

After everyone had taken their seats, I let them know that Kristie was sick and I would be leading group that evening. Twyla snorted and rolled her eyes, but that was the only reaction I received. I was relieved. I hadn’t been expecting rioting in the streets, but I had been anticipating some substitute-teacher shenanigans.

I started my discussion on the stages of the recovery process. I knew this material backward and forward.

And while my mouth moved, the words flowing easily, my brain was engaged in a desperate battle. My willpower was flagging and threatening to give way under the force of Maxx’s eyes.

Do not look at Maxx!
I admonished myself over and over again.

I tried to ignore the tingling sensation as I passed out the evening’s worksheet and just happened to brush my fingers against his.

I was failing miserably.

“Tonight you’re going to be writing a letter to yourself. I want you to think about where you want to be in six weeks, six months, six years. Write about the challenges you see for yourself, but also the successes you’ve had. You’re also to include some positive self-messages that your future self would want to hear. Be honest. Be realistic,” I said.

“Can I get some extra paper?” Maxx asked.

I cleared my throat and responded with a barely audible, “Sure.”

I handed him the paper, and when he took it from my hand, his fingers purposefully caressed the skin of my palm. His touch lingered, his eyes burning into mine. The room around us receded, and there was only us.

“Aubrey,” Brooks called out, returning me to reality. I instantly pulled my hand back as if the touch had singed me.

Maxx’s face darkened. He looked at Brooks, who watched us like a hawk. Maxx’s expression was murderous.

“Can I get a pencil and paper?” Brooks asked stiffly, arching his eyebrow. Maxx opened his mouth as if to say something, but I hurried over before he was able to speak.

“Here,” I said, thrusting the paper into my friend’s hand. Brooks’s eyes flashed as he looked at me.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

I returned to my chair and made nonsensical notes on my pad of paper, trying to calm the pounding of my heart. Everyone was silent; the only sound was that of the scratching of pencils on paper.

I watched Maxx as slyly as possible, but he seemed to be engrossed in writing his letter.

When the time was up, I handed out envelopes and instructed everyone to put the letters inside, writing their addresses on the outside. Kristie had explained to me that she would mail the letters at the end of the group for them to read.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Evan stated as I went around, collecting the letters. Here we go. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to get through the group without Mr. Pleasant telling everyone his opinion about
something.

I tried not to roll my eyes. Honestly, I did. But I was having a hard time with self-control. “Why is that?” I asked him blandly and knew I had pissed him off.

“Like a fucking letter will change what we do with our life. This psychobabble bullshit won’t do anything. You prissy bitches on your soapboxes lecturing about what we should and shouldn’t be doing need to fuck off and worry about yourselves,” he spat out. I felt my face get hot as a few others made noises of agreement.

I held my hand out to take his letter, refusing to engage with him.
Deep breaths, Aubrey. Rein
it in. Ignore him.
I chanted soothing phrases over and over in my head.

I knew that Evan was looking for a reaction. He wanted an argument. And I wouldn’t be giving him one even if I had some choice, colorful comments that I’d like to make.

Evan glared up at me, clicking the ring in his tongue across his bottom teeth. “I’m not giving this to you,” he said angrily. April
looked between her boyfriend and me nervously.

I retracted my hand. “That’s your choice,” I said mildly, moving to take the next person’s letter.

“You’re not taking any of our letters,” he announced, getting to his feet. Evan drew his body upright, apparently trying to make himself more intimidating.

Okay, and maybe he was a little intimidating, particularly since it seemed no one was in a hurry to intervene.
Thanks a lot, guys.

“That’s not your call to make, Evan,” I replied carefully, making eye contact with him. It was important to not show weakness, to not let him know he was getting to me—even though he was. He worried me. His behavior was decidedly unhinged.