Better off Friends
Page 43
“Is Macallan okay?”
Mom shot Mr. Dietz a nervous glance. He stood up. “Yes, yes, she’s fine. I was just in the neighborhood….” He tried to grab the paper off the table nonchalantly, but it was so obvious what he was doing.
“What’s that?” I motioned at the paper in his hand.
“Oh, well …” They exchanged another nervous look. “I was asking your mother for her opinion on some cooking stuff I was going to get Macallan for her birthday.”
For some reason, I didn’t buy it. “Really? Can I see it?”
“Mr. Dietz was on his way out,” Mom said right as the coffee-maker went off. Mom never made coffee only for herself. She did it when we had company.
“Yes.” He excused himself. “I was taking a quick break from work. You know, Levi, I was hoping to surprise Macallan with this, so if you could not tell her I was here.”
I didn’t like deceiving Macallan, not when our relationship was in such a fragile place. But between Macallan’s behavior and our parents’ secretive meeting, I couldn’t help but think there was something going on that I wasn’t being told.
It was all very mysterious. And I wasn’t in the mood for mysterious.
In the next week, Mom and Mr. Dietz seemed to be talking on the phone a lot. Not that Mom told me it was Mr. Dietz. I had to sneak a look at her phone.
I figured Macallan might know what was going on. I headed over there the Saturday before school started. Normally, I’d just walk in, but since Macallan had been so uneasy around me lately, I knocked on the door.
“Oh, hey.” I could instantly tell that Macallan didn’t want to see me. She definitely knew what was going on. And I wasn’t going to leave until she came clean.
We walked into the kitchen, where she had all this dough and flour on the counter.
“I’m making pasta,” she said as she began working with the dough.
This was usually the part where she would invite me to stay for dinner. She always did that. But I hadn’t gotten one invitation since she got back. The only time we sat down for a meal was her first night home and during our Sunday night family dinner. The thought of having to sit around their dinner table the following evening made me uneasy. There were too many unanswered questions.
I decided to not dance around the subject. “Are you keeping something from me?”
Macallan stopped cold. I knew it.
“What are you talking about?” She threw some flour on the dough and turned around so I couldn’t see her face.
“I think there’s something going on with you. You’re doing that thing you do.”
She tried to play it off lightly. “Cook? Yep, this is what I do now, Levi. Call in the detectives!” She laughed, but it was self-conscious, almost calculated laughter. She wanted me to brush it all off and move on.
Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t going to do that.
Enough was enough.
“Come on, Macallan. I’m not an idiot. You’ve been distant. Our parents are talking to each other all the time. What would they have to talk about if it wasn’t one of us?”
“I don’t know. They’re friends — aren’t friends allowed to talk? Stop making it some conspiracy theory. Friends talk.”
“Yes, friends talk. But that’s not what you and I have been doing.” She ignored me and continued to roll out the dough. “Can you stop for a second, sit down, and talk to me? Please?” I moved a chair for her to sit down next to me.
She hesitated. She never used to be so guarded around me.
Macallan sat down with a towel in her hands. She methodically wiped the flour off her hands, still refusing eye contact.
“Macallan, can you please tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting different since you’ve gotten back, like I make you uncomfortable now.”
She finally looked at me, and she looked scared. “It’s only … I had a lot of time to think in Ireland. And things have been different since I’ve been back. I have been different. It’s just that, I guess, it’s …” She looked down. “Levi, I think our friendship has been through a lot lately, so I don’t want to add any more tension, seriously. Can we not do this right now? Please.”
I wanted to give her some space, but wasn’t eight weeks in another country enough? Frustration started pouring over me. I’d always been truthful to Macallan, but I couldn’t help but feel that she was lying to me. Again.
I’d been so concerned about Macallan and her feelings, but what about mine? It had hurt me when she went away. I had tried to give her everything I thought she wanted — my time, my attention — and it still hadn’t been enough.
But this time it wasn’t on me. She was the one who left. She was the one who wasn’t around. She was the one who was canceling on me.
I had been there the entire time waiting for her to come back. But I still felt like she was gone.
And I was tired of waiting.
“You abandoned me.” The words flew out so fast I didn’t have a chance to catch them. “I confessed my feelings for you and you just walked out and abandoned me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? But I gave you your space and didn’t say anything because I hoped once you got back, everything would be okay between us. But they’re not. I don’t know what else to do because I’m not the one acting weird.”
“Oh, really?” Her voice rose sharply. “You’re turning this on me? Yes, you confessed your feelings to me. You left this huge door open. Then I come home to find it slammed in my face.”
Mom shot Mr. Dietz a nervous glance. He stood up. “Yes, yes, she’s fine. I was just in the neighborhood….” He tried to grab the paper off the table nonchalantly, but it was so obvious what he was doing.
“What’s that?” I motioned at the paper in his hand.
“Oh, well …” They exchanged another nervous look. “I was asking your mother for her opinion on some cooking stuff I was going to get Macallan for her birthday.”
For some reason, I didn’t buy it. “Really? Can I see it?”
“Mr. Dietz was on his way out,” Mom said right as the coffee-maker went off. Mom never made coffee only for herself. She did it when we had company.
“Yes.” He excused himself. “I was taking a quick break from work. You know, Levi, I was hoping to surprise Macallan with this, so if you could not tell her I was here.”
I didn’t like deceiving Macallan, not when our relationship was in such a fragile place. But between Macallan’s behavior and our parents’ secretive meeting, I couldn’t help but think there was something going on that I wasn’t being told.
It was all very mysterious. And I wasn’t in the mood for mysterious.
In the next week, Mom and Mr. Dietz seemed to be talking on the phone a lot. Not that Mom told me it was Mr. Dietz. I had to sneak a look at her phone.
I figured Macallan might know what was going on. I headed over there the Saturday before school started. Normally, I’d just walk in, but since Macallan had been so uneasy around me lately, I knocked on the door.
“Oh, hey.” I could instantly tell that Macallan didn’t want to see me. She definitely knew what was going on. And I wasn’t going to leave until she came clean.
We walked into the kitchen, where she had all this dough and flour on the counter.
“I’m making pasta,” she said as she began working with the dough.
This was usually the part where she would invite me to stay for dinner. She always did that. But I hadn’t gotten one invitation since she got back. The only time we sat down for a meal was her first night home and during our Sunday night family dinner. The thought of having to sit around their dinner table the following evening made me uneasy. There were too many unanswered questions.
I decided to not dance around the subject. “Are you keeping something from me?”
Macallan stopped cold. I knew it.
“What are you talking about?” She threw some flour on the dough and turned around so I couldn’t see her face.
“I think there’s something going on with you. You’re doing that thing you do.”
She tried to play it off lightly. “Cook? Yep, this is what I do now, Levi. Call in the detectives!” She laughed, but it was self-conscious, almost calculated laughter. She wanted me to brush it all off and move on.
Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t going to do that.
Enough was enough.
“Come on, Macallan. I’m not an idiot. You’ve been distant. Our parents are talking to each other all the time. What would they have to talk about if it wasn’t one of us?”
“I don’t know. They’re friends — aren’t friends allowed to talk? Stop making it some conspiracy theory. Friends talk.”
“Yes, friends talk. But that’s not what you and I have been doing.” She ignored me and continued to roll out the dough. “Can you stop for a second, sit down, and talk to me? Please?” I moved a chair for her to sit down next to me.
She hesitated. She never used to be so guarded around me.
Macallan sat down with a towel in her hands. She methodically wiped the flour off her hands, still refusing eye contact.
“Macallan, can you please tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting different since you’ve gotten back, like I make you uncomfortable now.”
She finally looked at me, and she looked scared. “It’s only … I had a lot of time to think in Ireland. And things have been different since I’ve been back. I have been different. It’s just that, I guess, it’s …” She looked down. “Levi, I think our friendship has been through a lot lately, so I don’t want to add any more tension, seriously. Can we not do this right now? Please.”
I wanted to give her some space, but wasn’t eight weeks in another country enough? Frustration started pouring over me. I’d always been truthful to Macallan, but I couldn’t help but feel that she was lying to me. Again.
I’d been so concerned about Macallan and her feelings, but what about mine? It had hurt me when she went away. I had tried to give her everything I thought she wanted — my time, my attention — and it still hadn’t been enough.
But this time it wasn’t on me. She was the one who left. She was the one who wasn’t around. She was the one who was canceling on me.
I had been there the entire time waiting for her to come back. But I still felt like she was gone.
And I was tired of waiting.
“You abandoned me.” The words flew out so fast I didn’t have a chance to catch them. “I confessed my feelings for you and you just walked out and abandoned me. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? But I gave you your space and didn’t say anything because I hoped once you got back, everything would be okay between us. But they’re not. I don’t know what else to do because I’m not the one acting weird.”
“Oh, really?” Her voice rose sharply. “You’re turning this on me? Yes, you confessed your feelings to me. You left this huge door open. Then I come home to find it slammed in my face.”
