Dear Diary,
I used to think the term pathetic fallacy referred to a poorly constructed argument, but it’s actually about the weather, and making it seem like nature has human emotions. Which is why it’s always stormy in Wuthering Heights, because even the wind and the rain are caught up in the tempest of dysfunctional behavior.
M.P.M.
She yanked me away from Alex. “Are you okay?”
No. No, no, no. It was the only word my brain could form. My lips must have moved, because Arden rounded on Alex.
“How dare you?” Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, she pulled me to her side. I felt like a mannequin, stiff and unwieldy.
Alex rubbed his forehead. “I’m not sure what you think is happening here. Mary—”
“Don’t even think about it.” Lydia shoved between us.
Alex leaned sideways, trying to catch my eye. I knew he was waiting for me to explain. But what could I say? It just happened. Part of me hoped if I stayed very quiet, everyone would forget I was there.
Unfortunately, they were all staring at me. I put a hand to my cheek, certain it must have hardened like clay inside a kiln from the heat of my embarrassment.
“It’s okay, Mary.” Arden stroked my shoulder. “We’re here now. You’re safe.”
“Mary,” Alex began, and I cringed at the entreaty in his voice.
“She doesn’t have to talk to you.” Arden waved a hand in his face.
“I think she does, actually. Mary,” he said again.
Forcing my eyes open, I took a deep breath. “It’s not . . . ah mmm.” I bit my bottom lip and was briefly lost in the memory of what that mouth had been doing mere moments ago.
“You don’t have to explain,” Arden said soothingly. “We know how men are. Especially him.”
My mouth opened. It was imperative to tell them it wasn’t his fault, that what they’d seen had not been a case of the hardened seducer leading the naive young maiden astray. But I couldn’t make the words come out.
“Stockholm syndrome.” Terry’s voice was heavy with sympathy.
Lydia glared at Alex. “It’s lucky we got here in time.”
There was an agonizing half minute during which I might yet have spoken up, telling my friends the truth. And then my time ran out. Alex raked a hand through his hair. With a last disbelieving look at me, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.
“And don’t come back,” Arden yelled after him.
The only response was the heavy door to the outside slamming shut behind him.
Arden wrapped her arms around me. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. We shouldn’t have left you alone.”
To my horror, I felt my eyes well with tears. My friends surrounded me, murmuring reassuring words, but their kindness only made me feel worse.
Gently, Arden turned me in the direction of the doors. “Let’s get you home.”
“I’m going to grab our coats,” said Lydia, still scowling ferociously.
“I’ll let Cam know we found her.” Terry turned to follow Lydia.
“Cam?” A fresh wave of horror washed over me. “Don’t tell her about the . . . other part.”
My teeth chattered as we stepped into the parking lot.
Arden squeezed my shoulder. “We’re almost there.”
“But the dance . . . you don’t want to leave. And Pittaya?”
“Lydia can catch up with him later. Or he can suck it up. I don’t really care.”
When we reached her car, Arden opened the back door, closing it behind me before hurrying around to the driver’s side. She glanced at me in the rearview mirror as she fiddled with the temperature controls. Terry and Lydia arrived a few minutes later, handing us our coats as they climbed inside. They looked from me to Arden, waiting for a cue. I turned my face to the window.
As we left the lighted parking lot, the air seemed to grow heavier, weighing me down. What was I doing? It was like I’d stumbled into an alternate life where everything I did was backwards and wrong.
Arden angled a vent so the hot air hit me full in the face. “Are you warm enough?”
I nodded, though in truth I was flushed and perspiring. Could regret make you sweat?
Lydia twisted in her seat to look at me. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Arden flicked on her turn signal with more than necessary force. “I bet he found out it was your fault Terry wouldn’t go out with him, so he decided to target you next. Men are the worst. They shouldn’t even be allowed out of the house.”
Had it really been an elaborate revenge plot? Everything in me rebelled at the thought. “No,” I whispered. Even to me, it sounded weak.
A light rain had begun to fall, mixed with sleet; Arden switched on the wipers. “You don’t have to make excuses for him,” she said. “That’s how they get away with all their crap. ‘Oh, he didn’t mean it. He’s just so busy and important, and you’re too silly to understand the pressure, wait quietly and maybe he’ll remember that you exist if he has an extra five minutes to spare!’”
She was breathing heavily when she finished. Lydia stared at her, eyes narrowed, before speaking. “Pull over.”
“What?” Arden checked her mirrors. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to argue with you while you’re driving.”
Frowning, Arden steered the car to an empty stretch of curb a few blocks from my house. As soon as she was parked, she turned to Lydia. “Why would you argue with me? I’m not the bad guy. I think we all know who that is. Starts with an A, ends with an X.” She made a slashing motion with her finger.
“Are you sure? Because it sounded like you were talking about Miles just now.”
“All guys are the same,” Arden retorted. “Ask Mary.”
Lydia shook her head. “This has always been about Miles, and you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your obsession with getting everyone coupled up, because romance is so great! Dating, dating, dating, guys, guys, guys.” Lydia fluttered her fingers. “No wonder Mary fell for Alex’s BS. What if we hadn’t found her in time, and something even worse happened, just because you didn’t want to deal with the fact that your relationship was over!”
“Excuse me? What have I been doing for the last two days?”
“It’s been going on a lot longer than that.” Lydia set her jaw. “You didn’t want to admit it, because you couldn’t stand the idea of not having a boyfriend. What could be worse than being single!”
“That’s not why—”
“And now you’re miserable, and you wasted two years of your life, and for what?”
“I didn’t waste my life.” Arden’s voice quavered. “We were happy for a really long time.”
“Until you weren’t, which you refused to acknowledge, so instead you created this big distraction.” Lydia circled a hand in the air, taking in the four of us. “Way to model healthy lifestyle choices.”
A choking sound emerged from Arden’s throat. “Thanks for the judgment. I really needed that tonight.”
“I’m just saying, did you ever stop to ask yourself if you still wanted to be with Miles, instead of putting up with his crap? Maybe you should have dumped him.”
“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” Arden said bitterly.
Lydia squinted at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve always resented Miles. You never liked it when I spent time with him instead of you. Do you know how hard I had to work to keep you from getting jealous? Like I needed the extra stress!”
I caused this, I thought, ribs tightening like a vise. If the argument escalated much further, their friendship might never recover, and how would I live with myself then?
“It was me,” I said, before either of them could accuse the other of something worse. “This whole thing is my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” Arden rubbed her eyes. “This started way before we met you.”
“I mean with Alex.”
Lydia’s mouth compressed into an angry line. “You physically overpowered him and forced him to stick his tongue down your throat?”
“He asked me to dance, but that was just being nice. Since I was alone.”
“Some guys can smell weakness,” Lydia said. “They always go after the vulnerable ones.”
“Why were you in the hall?” Terry asked quietly.
“He thought I was shy about dancing in public.”
“And then?” Lydia said in her courtroom voice.
“We just kind of . . . kissed.”
Lydia didn’t hide her skepticism. “Out of the blue, Alex Ritter asked you to dance and kissed you and you decided, why not?”
“We talked once or twice. Before tonight.”
Arden frowned. “You never mentioned that.”
I looked at my hands, knotted in my lap. “I wasn’t sure what to say. It felt awkward.”
“Talking to Alex?” Lydia asked.
I shook my head.
“Talking to us.” Arden’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “But we trusted you, Mary. I trusted you.” She broke off, shaking her head. “I broke up with Miles because of what you said. And the whole time, you were seeing Alex Ritter behind our backs?”
“I didn’t mean to,” I said miserably.
Excuses crowded my brain. I didn’t realize! I was too naive to understand what it meant when he teased me, or touched my hair, or stood close enough to whisper in my ear! But it was too late to play the ingénue, when I’d been pretending to know it all. Nor could I stomach another half-truth. Every time I’d kept Alex a secret, I’d deceived all of us—myself included.
“He had lipstick on his neck.” Terry didn’t present the information as a gotcha, but it was damning nonetheless. “Forensic evidence,” she added, sounding almost apologetic.
“I don’t believe this,” Lydia said.
“I’m sorry.” Choking on a sob, I threw open the car door and ran.