Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2) (29 page)

Maddie

I am so relieved that he is here I feel like crying.

Relieved and very, very angry.

I close my eyes, both to hide the tears and stop the spinning.

“I hate you,” I say, swallowing. “Javi, I hate you.”

I know
, he says in Spanish.
I want to talk to you about it, but let’s have that conversation later, okay? We’ll talk when you aren’t about to be sick.

My stomach roils.
Ef
me for life, I really am going to puke.

A strong, solid warmth wraps around my torso, holding me upright, while a hand gathers my hair at the nape of my neck.

“Don’t touch me,” I say, but he ignores my wobbly request.

I puke all over the sidewalk, great, burning heaves that leave my throat raw. Tears stream down my cheeks. I’m so embarrassed. So ashamed of myself and the way I behaved tonight.
 

I am so mad at myself for letting Javier in. I’m mad at him for lying to me. Javier, who, despite everything, is rubbing my back, murmuring sweet Spanish nothings while I lose my dinner, and my lunch, and my breakfast, from the look of it, on the sidewalk outside a discoteca at three A.M.

I would sell my soul to the devil to be able to curl up and die right now.

I curl up against Javier instead as we climb into a taxi. I probably have vomit in my hair and on my clothes, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps me in his arms, and I rest my face against his chest, inhaling his scent. Cinnamon, soap. My pulse, sprinting since my little sidewalk episode, begins to slow.

He presses a kiss onto the top of my head and smooths back my hair. I feel so comfortable. So at home in his arms. He just saw me at my worst—I mean, I am an idiot asshole, I drank my face off and threw up in the street—but he doesn’t seem put off by my behavior.

Now, more than ever, I wish he was mine to have.

But he’s not. Never was.

“I told you, Javi, you can’t kiss me like that,” I mumble. “You want to be with someone else.”

“I don’t,” he says. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? I want to be with you, guapa. I have since we met.”

Even though in my rational brain I know he’s a liar, my heart swells anyway at his kindness. He’s
here
.
 

And he’s staying by my side. My vomit-scented side.

That’s no small thing, considering the smell is making me gag.

“Did Viv tell you where we were?” I murmur.

Javier laughs again. “No-o?”

Did you mean it,
I want to ask.
Did you really mean that you love me?

But then I start to get dizzy again, the taxi darting in and out of traffic with nauseating speed. I bury my face in Javier’s chest and pray that I make it to wherever we’re going without puking again.

***

The Next Afternoon

I blink awake, ardent afternoon light burning through my closed eyelids.

Beside me, someone turns over, making the bed squeak.

My heart skips a beat.
Javier.

Last night comes back in a rush that makes me cringe. Rhys and Laura, that disastrous make-out with Guillermo, Javier holding back my hair as I got sick.

The smell of his shirt as I fell asleep on his chest in the taxi.

Freaking Javier. I hate him.

I love him.

“I have to tell you something,” I blurt, bolting upright.

Long blonde hair trails over the pillow as a head turns. Vivian cracks open one eye, last night’s mascara making her look like a cute raccoon. “Shoot.”

“Oh,” I say, my heart sinking. Javier must’ve dropped me off at my señora’s apartment last night. It’s pleasantly annoying, how gentlemanly he is. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Don’t look so thrilled to see me,” she replies. “I mean, I’m not a hot naked Spaniard, so I get why you’re disappointed. But I’m still your best friend.”

Another head pops up over the edge of the bed. I almost jump.

“Holy shit,” Laura moans, tugging at the back of her neck. “Your floor is not as soft as I thought it was last night.”

I stare at her. “Wait. You slept here? What in the world—”

“Long story. Basically Rhys and I had a little disagreement about—well, everything. Nothing. Whatever.” She waves me off with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter. I’m more interested in what urgent message you have for Javier. He was such a stud last night, helping us—helping you, when you got sick. He handled it like a pro.”

I hide my face in my hands. “He’s the best. And the worst.”

Laura reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry, chica.”

“It’s all right,” I say.

“No it’s not,” Viv says. “You’re not all right, and neither is Javier. He looked like shit.”

“He did?” I ask, blinking. “I thought he looked hot.”

“You were throwing up,” she replies. “Your opinion doesn’t count.”

“Fair point,” I say.

Laura is nodding her head. “Viv is right, now that I think about it. Javier had these big bags under his eyes. He looked…tired. Sad.”

“If he’s sad,” I say, “it sure as hell isn’t because he misses me. It was almost like he planned the whole thing—me seeing that text from María Carmen five minutes after we finished boning. He wanted me to leave so he could see her. He wants
her
, guys. Not me.”

Laura arches a brow. “Did he say that?”

“Well…no. No, he didn’t, like, explicitly say, ‘hey, Maddie, please leave because I like Carmen and want to hang out with her instead’. But he told me the night we met that he wanted to find his ‘happily ever after’ with her. He’s wanted her from day one, and I was stupid to believe he’d change his mind. I mean. She’s gorgeous. She’s accomplished and smart. She lives in Madrid. She’s the perfect girl for him.”

Viv sits up. “That night Rafa and I saw you guys—the night you told me Javier kissed you after you went flying with him. You said he told you he didn’t want Carmen. That he wanted you instead.”

“Wait,” Laura says, meeting my gaze. “He said that?”

I lift a shoulder, let it fall. “He did. He said it again last night. But how am I supposed to believe him when he’s telling his smoking hot ex-girlfriend that he misses her? It’s obvious he’s playing me.”

“Playing you?” Laura says. “I’m not saying you don’t have a right to be upset, Mads. But I’m not sure if he is. Playing you, I mean. From what you’ve told me about Javier—he’s a gentleman, he’s kind, he’s thoughtful—that doesn’t sound like him.”

I look down, picking at the coverlet. “I know. Which is why his betrayal hurts so damn much. I thought he was this great guy. Different from all the scumbags out there.”

“Scumbags like your dad?” Viv asks.

“Yeah.” I nod. “But turns out Javier
is
a scumbag. A giant, dickhead scumbag.”

The girls pause. Exchange a look.

“Do scumbags usually hold your hair back when you’re puking?” Laura asks.

“Do they help you with your thesis and take you flying on their private planes?” Viv says.

I stare at both of them. “Well, no, but…”

“Did you at least let him explain himself?” Viv continues. “When you saw the text from María Carmen that morning—did you give him a chance to tell his side of the story?”

I open my mouth, close it. A lump forms in my throat; tears blur my eyes. God my head hurts.

I cover my face with my hands.

“No.” My voice wavers. “I was so angry, I just—I couldn’t. I thought it was happening all over again. My dad cheated on my mom, and Javier…we’re not together, I know, but I felt like he cheated on me. And I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t handle being treated like shit on someone’s shoe again.”

Vivian gently wraps her hand around mine and pulls it away from my face. Tears roll down my cheeks onto my throat, but I don’t move to wipe them away. It feels good to cry. To let it out—the sadness, the regret.

“Javier is very, very different from your dad,” she says. “And the way your dad’s been treating you—it’s not right. It’s not okay. But I think you know, deep down, that no matter what he says to you, your parents’ divorce is not your fault. You’re a smart girl, Maddie. Really smart—with this thesis you’re writing, you’re going to graduate with honors, for fuck’s sake. You’re smart, and you know that your dad is being a dick and taking his anger at himself out on you. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s
not
your fault
, Mads.”

The tears keep coming. I wipe them away with my shoulder.

“Maybe,” I say. “I’m just so angry, too, Viv. So fucking angry. At him. At myself. I just...I feel like I can’t get past it.”

The sob shakes my whole being; letting it out feels like a knot is being pulled loose from the very center of my body. It bowls me over, my eyes burning, heart blaring.

Viv squeezes my hand. “You can carry that anger around with you for the rest of your life, Mads. You can be angry with your dad for treating you the way he did. Treating you the way he
is
treating you. You can be angry with yourself for letting him treat you that way. You can keep the fear around, too, if you want. Fear of letting someone get close to you—someone like Javier. But I think it’s time you let that shit
go
and life your fucking life. Make the choice now. Here. Today. Let it go, and let the good stuff in. Believe in the good stuff. Believe Javier. Let him in, Maddie, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. You know it, and I do, too.”

I blink, the tears slowing their assault.

Let it go, and let the good stuff in
. It plays on repeat inside my head. Over and over until, suddenly, it sticks there. No longer a sound or an idea but a fact. A solid, actionable fact. Something I know and understand with a conviction I didn’t think I was capable of.

Something as sure and lovely as Javier’s light brown eyes when he said
I want to be with you
.

I take a warrior breath, let it out. For the first time this semester, it genuinely seems to work. My pulse slows. My shoulders fall back from my ears.

And my heart unfurls in my chest. It seems to fill my entire chest cavity, swelling in the most wonderful, wrenching way.

Let it go
.
Let the good stuff in
.
Believe him. Believe Javier.

Viv is right. I guess it took hearing someone else say it. But she’s right nonetheless.

I have been so afraid of letting someone get close. Of sharing the barest, ugliest parts of myself. It’s clear to me now that my anger toward my father has been keeping me from Javier. My anger at myself has kept me from letting Javier in. Javier, the one guy who has given me a sense of belonging and home throughout this horrible mess.

That anger isn’t going to go anywhere unless I make the choice to remove it from my head and from my heart. I don’t want to end up like my dad, all alone with only his bitterness for company. And I sure as hell am not going to let his deplorable actions control me or my future. Not anymore.

I deserve better.

I deserve to hope. To hope for my happily ever after with Javier Montoya.

It’s time to let that shit go and
live
my life. I have three weeks left in Madrid, and I’m not going to waste them.

A little shiver of excitement darts up my spine. Yeah, I have three weeks left, but who knows how much time I’ll have with Javier if I take him up on his offer to try the long-distance thing.

When
I take him up on his offer.

I’m going to tell him yes.
Yes, I want you, too, Javier. Yes, I want to give us a shot.
Yes to his smile and his songs and the amazing sex we have.

I don’t know how Javier and I are going to make it work, not yet, but I’m willing to take a chance on us. If he still wants me—
please, please let him still want me
—then we’ll bask in the bliss of having these few weeks together and then figure out the rest as we go.

I am going to say yes, and let the good stuff into my life. Good stuff like love.

Because I am in love with Javier.

“Reach out to him,” Viv says, softly. “Let him explain himself. Maybe you can’t trust your dad, but that doesn’t mean you can’t trust anyone else. I know your instinct is to keep pushing Javier away, even though all signs point to the fact that he’s head over heels for
you
. Not Carmen. You. Mads, you like this guy too much to let him slip through your fingers.”

“Like him?” I run a hand through my hair. It’s knotted with I don’t even want to know what. “I love him.”

Laura gasps, leaping onto the bed. Viv claps her hands. The two of them pull me into an awkward half-hug, squealing like preteen girls.

“I’m so happy for you,” Laura says.

“You smell
terrible
,” Viv says.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Tell me everything,” she says.

“
Every
thing,” Laura adds.

“But before you do, you know you have to tell him, right?” Viv says. “From what Rafa tells me, Javier’s still confused about how you feel.”