Amy broke up with Brent by a phone call.
How pathetic was that?
And we had just been talking about her when she called. Mostly just talking about how obsessed Brent was.
“So,” I asked, “you and Amy are having problems?”
Brent hesitated. “Not problems, really. I mean we’re still talking.”
“But?” I coaxed out of him.
He looked away. “I don’t know. There’s a distance now.”
“A distance?”
“Yeah. Some kind of separation. She doesn’t smile when she sees me. She doesn’t seem happy to see me. She’s just always angry when I’m around her.”
I considered it. “Is something pissing her off right now?”
Brent shook his head. “Not that she tells me. All she says is school’s fine, work’s fine, everything’s fucking fine! Except for me. She just doesn’t seem to want to spend time with me anymore.”
I frowned. “Did you guys have a fight or something?”
His eyes whipped back up to meet mine. He opened his mouth to say something, then bit it back. “No. We didn’t have a fight.”
“And nothing big happened, right?” I asked. “Like she didn’t get raped in her ear by a lesbian midget with a strap-on or anything, did she?” Brent glared at me, but just shook his head. I thought about it some more. “Well, you have been pretty clingy lately. She probably just needs some space.” Like a day she doesn’t have to spend worrying about you dropping by.
“You really think that’s it?” Brent asked, the words sticking in his throat.
I shrugged. “It’s the only thing I can think of, really. I mean, you’ve been seeing her every day for the past few weeks. I know that if a girl spends that much time with me I need to not see her for a few days. Everyone needs some space. Even girlfriends.” And even roommates, I added wryly to myself.
Brent went silent. “So you really think that’s the answer?” he asked miserably after a few minutes. “Don’t go out with her?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like it’s the end of the world. Just leave her alone for a while. Give her some time to work out whatever’s bothering her.”
He seemed to curl up into a little ball in his chair. “I don’t think I can.”
“Shit. You sound co-dependent or something.”
His head snapped up and he glared at me.
I shrugged. “You do.”
He went back to staring at his feet. “So what do you think? Wait until next week?” I didn’t have to tell him the answer, he already knew it. Slowly, he pulled himself up to his feet. “I’d better call her then. Tell her I won’t be seeing her for a while.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t even call.”
“Are you crazy?” he demanded angrily. “I told you, it’s getting bad. If I don’t at least call her, it will fall apart.”
I shrugged. “Do what you want. But I wouldn’t call her.”
He sat back down and took a few minutes to sulk about it. “You really think that’s what I should do?” he finally asked.
“That’s what I would do,” I said. “Even a phone call can be kind of intrusive. You’ve been acting like you’ve been sharing vital organs for the last few weeks. Back off a little.”
He thought about it a bit more. “I guess you’re right. I mean, being around her isn’t helping. How much harm can it do to not be there?” He took a few moments to come to terms with his decision. “So,” he said, looking up hopefully, “you want to go do something?”
Shit, I thought, just what have I gotten myself into? I was saved by the telephone from having to answer. I picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Brent?” A trembling voice said on the other end.
“Amy.” That was more for Brent’s benefit than hers. “Hold on a second.”
I handed the receiver to him. He looked stunned, like he wasn’t certain what to do with the call, but then an ecstatic smile plastered itself on his face. I thought his lower jaw might crack off, it was so ear-to-ear. I guess he figured this meant she was feeling better. “Amy!” he said happily into the receiver, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I didn’t think you’d call. So what have you been up to lately?” Whatever her answer was, it dropped the smile right off his face. “Well, no, I…” He hesitated, his voice falling. “That’s…” he snapped angrily, then bit it back. “That’s not fair, I….” He noticed me watching him and he dropped his voice a little lower, turning away. “All I said was that I wanted to see you tonight! I…” He was struggling with her, that was obvious.
Surreptitiously, I put my ear-phones on, but they didn’t do anything. I could still hear Brent’s fall as clearly as before.
“Look,” he said, and I could tell he wasn’t angry anymore; he was desperate. “I’m not trying to control… No, wait! It’s not that bad. We can work it out.” He went silent, and out of the corner of my eyes I could see him put one hand on the table to steady himself. Whatever she was saying was practically bringing him to his knees. “Please…” he said, and I thought he was trying for an Academy Award. “Please. Don’t do this. I need…” He went silent and then I heard the soft, final beep as he turned the phone off. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor, his head barely resting on the table.
After he spent ten minutes like that, I took my ear-phones off and quit pretending I hadn’t heard him. I turned around in my chair, looking at him, sprawled on the table like he had been crucified. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“She broke up with me,” he said, his voice muffled by the table.
“I figured that out. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Why?” he asked, still not moving. “So I can dictate my will to you.”
Well, shit. I thought. There goes the weekend. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It is,” he said hollowly. “Of course it is.”
This was new, I admitted to myself. I’d dealt with him over almost everything, but breaking up with a girlfriend was something I wasn’t sure how to handle. “Don’t make me give you the whole ‘hundreds of fish in the sea’ speech.” I gave him a kick. “Now get up.”
“No.”
“Dammit Brent! Move! Now!” I kicked him again.
“Fuck you!” He let out a bitter laugh. “Keep kicking. Maybe you’ll hit something vital.”
I made a disgusted sound, but took a step back. “Fine,” I said simply. “You want to wallow here in self-disgust, feel free. But if you think I’m going to spend the evening sitting here, listening to how much you want to kill yourself, you’re out of your mind.” I turned and stalked to the door.
“Wait!” he choked out.
I hesitated, then turned around and waited for him to say something.
He pulled himself off the floor, leaving the phone on the table. “It’s just, after all that’s happened, the grad school thing and everything else, for her to just…”
He trailed off when I turned away and dug through the refrigerator until I found two bottles of beer. I popped them both open and handed him one. “I know the story,” I said.
He took a shaky swallow from his beer. He made a face at the taste, like he always did, but then closed his eyes and took a longer swig. When he opened them again, he seemed a little less pale. “You know, I could swear I saw this coming.”
“Tell me about it,” I agreed with him.
He nodded at my words. “For the past month, everything just felt wrong. Like it was all falling apart, and it was just a house of cards we were holding together. And one little argument would bring it all toppling down.” His voice fell away and he took another drink from his beer. “God, I almost can’t believe it.”
I let him babble on as he drank away. I know giving alcohol to someone who’s depressed is generally a bad thing, but I figured if I could get him to drink enough, he might pass out. And when he woke in the morning, maybe he’d be able to cope with it better.
Besides – I had to meet Holly in a few hours.
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