Love Her Madly Read online

  “He’s a decent enough actor, but this whole thing is just a phase. It’s like his college midlife crisis. He’s never going to go through with it.”

  “What makes you so sure?” I asked, my tone rising defensively. I wanted to support Raj’s dream. At least he had one.

  Cyn rolled her eyes. “For one thing, Mommy and Daddy. And second of all, he doesn’t really want it.” Seeing that I was about to object, she held up a silencing finger. “He wants it because he thinks it’ll be easy since everything in life has been easy for Raj. But acting won’t be easy. There’s no ladder for him to race to the top of his field, and failure, even perceived failure, would kill him.”

  She had a point. Raj was used to things going his way and being the smartest guy in the room. Smarts would only get him so far as a performer.

  “So you think it’s a rebellion thing?”

  “He told me that he likes the ‘being someone else’ part of it. I think that has a lot to do with it. It’s an escape.”

  “An escape from us?” I joked.

  Cyn didn’t laugh. “Maybe. Titus Andronicus had it easy compared to Raj and his two harpies.”

  We sat there in silence.

  “I think I’m making him nuts,” she said. Her eyes were serious, and I knew with queasy certainty what she was talking about. The non-secret. She still hadn’t slept with him.

  Give him to me, I thought for the millionth time. Give him to me.

  My problem was that my initial feeling about Raj—that he was my destined love and the one I’d never let go of—was solidifying into an unshakable truth. My brain advised caution, but my heart would have none of it. His foray into acting seemed like something, in a parallel universe, I might have gone after, and it endeared him to me all the more. I wanted to help him figure his life out. I thought he could do anything and be anything, and I could see myself as the woman standing behind him, giving him strength. We would lie in his bed, wound tightly together, and he’d talk about the future. How we’d move out to Hollywood, how he’d take me to all his movie premieres, how I would be free to lounge about our sunny mansion doing . . . whatever I eventually wanted. I loved this scenario because he never mentioned Cyn.

  Hollywood was perhaps just a fantasy for me, but for Raj, it was very real. As he was trying to grow as this actor person, everything was suddenly Serious. Every mood needed to be explored and examined. His approach to studying human emotions was, in classic Raj style, systematic to the point of being overly scientific. Sometimes it went off the rails. He started to give in to these dark moods that he would wallow in all day long, taking notes. Then he’d get philosophical and expound on the many ways that nothing we ever did as people mattered, and determine that (ta-da!) life was ultimately pointless. He would gravely inform me of his findings as if they were news, and I’d remind him I’d already walked that primrose path right into the student funny farm. That would shut him up.

  Fact was, the future was weighing heavily on all of us. Cyn’s only way to stay in school would be to pick up some heavy debt. She began to talk about possibly transferring somewhere less expensive. The first time she brought it up to us together, Raj’s eyes went glassy, but then he smiled and said he’d been having similar thoughts. He’d looked into transferring to a school with a theater program, or just ditching school and moving to New York or LA. He didn’t look at me when he said it, only at her, making me feel like they were making plans to ditch me, right in front of my face. I abruptly fled our cafeteria table, abandoning my lunch.

  Cyn found me in the ladies’ room some minutes later, crying.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all just talk.” She sighed. “Probably nothing will happen. Everything will probably just stay the same.”

  Instead of comforting me, that last part made me break down all over again.

  Finals and post-finals parties came and went. Cyn and I dropped ecstasy at the big winter bash. Raj, in actor-scientist mode, abstained. He wanted to observe, he said, as if a bunch of trashed kids dancing was something to behold anew with the fresh eyes of Art. As night fell and the music got louder, I lost myself in the pulsing mass of students who had gathered in the plaza. The flashing colored lights and the shimmering strobe gave the night a sense of magnitude, like we were all on the verge of something epic. I felt like I was a flaming top, swirling madly in the dead center of my youth. I would never have as much energy or joy or promise as I had that night, my heart surging along with the dance beat under the graceful palms.

  The feeling did not last long. I felt a cool hand on my sweaty arm, and I looked up into the unsmiling face of Raj. Behind him was Mello, the always cheerful RA, a deep bow of concern darkening her brow. I couldn’t hear what Raj was saying because of the music, but I had my suspicions. I followed them through the gyrating horde back to Mello’s room on the first floor, directly underneath ours.

  Cyn was sitting on the floor of Mello’s closet, her legs tucked tightly beneath her crossed arms, hugging herself. When I said her name and she saw me kneeling before her, she let out a small howl and clutched on to me. Her cheeks were laced with glittery tear-trails of party makeup.

  “Mello found her under the stairs, crying,” Raj informed me, a churlish edge to his voice. “I thought you guys were going to stay together.”

  I gazed into Cyn’s eyes, looking for some trace of the girl I knew. She stared out beyond me with the eyes of a spooked fawn. “Hey, babe . . .” I cooed, failing in my efforts to remember how I’d seen her help people out of their bad trips in the past.

  Cyn’s eyes flipped up to me and back down again.

  “I’m worried about her overheating,” Mello said. She was a senior, but she had the steady gravitas of someone much older. She lowered her stocky frame to squat next to me, with the calm air of an emergency room nurse who’s seen much worse. “Was she mixing?”

  “No. I don’t think so. I think it’s just E, but maybe a lot of it,” I said shakily. Cyn’s skin was very hot, even through her T-shirt. I was getting scared.

  “How much is a lot?”

  “She wouldn’t have taken a dangerous amount. She’s done it plenty of times.”

  Mello’s mouth tightened.

  “She’s been stressed. Really stressed. That’s why she’s flipping out.”

  Mello sighed and seemed to relax. “I’m not seeing signs of overdose here. If it’s just a bad trip, it’ll pass. Let’s get her up to your room and cool her down.”

  “Hey, Cyn?” I said lightly, helping her to her feet. She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes, and she clung to my wrists so tightly, I immediately began to lose sensation in my fingertips. “It’s really hot, don’t ya think? I think we should cool off in the shower.”

  Mello nodded approvingly, and Raj nervously backed up toward the door. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I wondered if he felt this was somehow my fault. Cyn and I edged slowly up the stairs, Raj following.

  “Hey, Raj,” Mello called out. “You should go to the store and get some sports drink. Or orange juice. Orange juice always helps.”

  Raj nodded. I opened our door and shepherded Cyn inside. “I’ve got her,” I told him.

  “If you need anything, Gloria, I’m wearing my pager,” Mello said.

  I sat Cyn on the edge of the tub and turned on the shower. I checked her pockets to make sure they were empty and removed my skirt. I took Cyn by the hand and backed her up until she was underneath the stream. She gasped when the cool water hit, and I held on to her elbows in case she fainted, but she didn’t. She just stood there passively, letting the water run down over her face.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I asked cheerfully, as if showers were a totally cool new thing. She looked up at me, and I was startled by how dilated her eyes were, her irises little more than a thin glaze of sky blue around a center of impenetrable dark.

  “Do you love me, Glo?” she a
sked.

  “Of course I do.” I gave her a hug, leaning into the drenching flow of water. The water felt good on my skin, too. We stood there like that, in a comfortable embrace, for what must have been a long time. Cyn had dropped her head onto my shoulder, and I could smell the remnants of her fruity hair spray.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” she murmured.

  The water continued to flow over us, mitigating my silence. Eventually, I came up with an answer with no disturbing connotations. “We’re going to go to Costa Rica, and climb a volcano, and see lots of monkeys, and put a lime in the coconut every day.”

  “I can’t do this much longer,” she said, sounding suddenly 100 percent sober.

  I tried to lean back to get a look at her face, but she wouldn’t release me. “No,” she grunted, and held me tighter. I stopped resisting. I looked down at her head, the blond hair darkened to a muddy gold, and wondered what mayhem was transpiring inside that skull.

  “You’re gonna be okay. You just gotta relax,” I murmured. I caught sight of our reflection in the mirror. Two girls in soaking wet clothes, embracing in a shower. It was almost funny, until I noticed how tightly Cyn was clutching me, and that she had begun to shiver.

  There was a light knock at the bathroom door, and Raj appeared bearing sports drink and orange juice. He glimpsed us in the shower and froze.

  “How’s it going?” he managed. I felt Cyn stiffen at the sound of his voice, but she loosened her grip on me.

  “Better. We’re feeling a lot cooler. I think this one’s even shivering now.” I freed myself from Cyn’s grasp and turned off the water.

  Raj just stood there. The fear that I’d seen before was gone from his face. In its place was relief, and maybe some lust. Cyn stepped out of the shower and stared at her reflection with a diffuse awe, as if viewing an aquarium full of tropical fish. Raj’s face betrayed similar fascination, except he was looking at both of us. I shooed him out and closed the bathroom door.

  I helped Cyn into a dry robe, and when she was ready, Raj guided her to my bed, which had a better view of the TV. Raj had already switched it to some cartoons as a nonthreatening, come-down distraction, but Cyn just closed her eyes. After a few minutes, her breathing slowed down and she seemed to have fallen asleep.

  Raj and I looked at one another. A slow grin of relief spread across his face, and he shook his head. I changed into my own robe and switched off the lights. The flicker of the cartoons flashed across Cyn’s sleeping form as I made my way over to Raj on Cyn’s bed. The music from the party below was intense, and my body began to respond to the rhythm again, as if reawakening. I lay down beside him, and together we watched the colored lights flash across the palm fronds outside of the window.

  “We should stay here tonight, just in case,” I whispered. The thumping bass from the party was so loud, I didn’t need to fear waking Cyn by speaking, but it was nicer to whisper into Raj’s ear anyway.

  He responded with a seductive smile, and I felt him slip his hand beneath my robe. I curled toward him, my back to Cyn, and untied the sash. Raj’s hands were soon all over me, and we were kissing. With the music and the lights flashing behind my closed lids, I sort of forgot where we were. Before I really realized what was happening, we were having sex. I glanced over at my bed and was relieved to see that Cyn hadn’t moved. Raj came shortly afterward, and I rolled out of bed immediately to wash up, hoping to get rid of any evidence of what we’d just done on Cyn’s bed, with her right across the room.

  The next morning, Cyn was extremely apologetic about the night before. The three of us ate waffles in companionable silence, occasionally pointing out other students stumbling into the cafeteria who looked worse than we felt. I was utterly worn out. Although I didn’t share it with my tablemates, I was secretly dying to spend a little time away from school. The previous night’s adventure had me worried that we were all spinning out of control.

  Cyn promised to visit me at my parents’ place for a few days around Christmas, but thankfully, not the entire stretch of winter break. The holidays meant good money at E Two, with generosity and wish-fulfillment perfuming the air, along with the fir boughs and disinfectant spray. While Cyn was quite literally hustling for dough, I was baking cookies with my mom, shaking out the special silver sprinkles, just like I’d always done. Drifting to sleep in my quiet, childhood bedroom, I had the strange sensation of having left my adult self behind on the other coast. I didn’t catch myself missing her all that much.

  Then, just when the winter holiday pendulum was beginning to swing from pleasantly relaxed to agonizingly boring, Cyn pulled up to my parents’ house in her battered red hatchback, with Raj riding shotgun. I’d invited him to stay with us for a night on the way to his own parents’ place. Raj introduced himself as my boyfriend and behaved as such, and Cyn, in a wonderful, unspoken gift to me, betrayed no hint of interest in him the entire visit. We drank cocktails and played my old board games into the small hours, laughing. I’d look across my bedroom and see Raj’s deep brown eyes on me, and next to him, my best friend, cracking some stupid joke. In those brief flickers, when I could forget everything I knew about the real us, I was truly happy. Then they left, together.

  Alone at my parents’ place, I found that I weathered the separation well enough during the daylight hours, but as soon as the sun set, I would be hit with a longing for Raj that made me want to keen. It made me nervous and irritable to think about Raj returning to campus in a few days’ time. He’d be there with Cyn, and without me, for almost an entire week. I suspected that, in my absence, they’d consummate their relationship. I worried about the potential fallout. I started biting my nails.

  I returned to campus for New Year’s Eve. Before I had time to blink, we were shoving bathing suits and hiking gear into our thrift-store backpacks. I was out of my head with excitement, barely able to believe that I’d soon be departing for an exotic adventure. The only thing that brought me down was how badly I knew I’d miss Raj.

  I slept at the Hubble the night before we left. Raj and I huddled together on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket against the chilly breeze, sharing a bottle of wine. As a plane landed across the freeway, I snuggled in closer, seeking the carnal comfort of Raj’s warm body. We didn’t talk much. I felt his sadness at our leaving as a palpable force that grew thicker the closer we got to departure.

  He’d had a rough time visiting his family. He came out about his acting, and his father, in a knee-jerk reaction, had forbidden it. His mother, he said, had laughed; first at the absurdity of Raj throwing away his scholarship to pursue what she viewed as a hobby, and then at Raj’s father’s reaction. When the dust settled, she told him to do what he wanted—it was his life—but I think that doubt had taken root. With all of that drama happening, he definitely didn’t tell them about his girlfriend. Or his other girlfriend.

  The morning Cyn and I left, he was a vortex of gloom, his jaw grimly set as he chauffeured us to the international airport. Cyn sat in the backseat, her eyes fixed out the window throughout the entire strained and silent ride. Cyn gave Raj a quick kiss good-bye from the backseat and slammed the door, leaving us alone together. Raj looked so miserable that I couldn’t walk away without seeing him smile. I kissed him long and slow, and when I pulled away, he pulled me close again. Conscious of Cyn waiting outside on the curb with our bags, I kissed him tenderly one last time and whispered in his ear that I loved him. I’d never said it before, and his stunned smile was worth everything, though he didn’t, as I’d hoped, say he loved me back. I locked that smile into my memory and hurried out of the car, and together Cyn and I hustled into the terminal.

  All the enthusiasm and glee that we’d been suppressing for the past couple of weeks erupted in the line for security. Other travelers turned to stare as we laughed to the point of tears at nothing in particular, drunk with the knowledge that our adventure was soon beginning.

  CHAPTER S
IX

  We met our group at the gate. There were twelve of us total, as many as could be squeezed into one stretched-out van. Another pair of girls from our Spanish Lit class was also making the trip. Sadie, a wary-eyed, dark-skinned beauty who barely stood five feet tall, and her friend Hannah, who had shaved her head in preparation for the trip.

  “Just to clarify, in case there were any doubts, yes, I’m a lesbian,” she quipped as we went around the circle introducing ourselves.

  Our group organizer, a tall guy named Pete with thinning hair and a wide, toothy grin, urged us to get all the gringo words out of our systems. Once we landed, we were on our honor to speak only Spanish, even among ourselves.

  A few hours later, we emerged from the chilly airport into the swampy embrace of the Costa Rican afternoon. As our van zipped through the narrow streets of San Jose, I peered out past Cyn’s shoulder at the tropical pink sky, trying to drink in every detail.

  We bunked in a hostel dorm all together for most of the first week. We didn’t get great sleep because other backpackers who didn’t have to work at a school at eight a.m. would stumble in drunkenly in the small hours. They tried to be quiet, but the overhead lights would snap on and off, followed by the interminable rustling of plastic bags, suppressed giggles, and zipping of zippers. Oh, and snoring.

  Cyn had nightmares the first couple of nights. The first time, she was moaning, and Sadie reached across from her neighboring bunk and woke her. A night or two later, the same thing happened. Then one morning she woke up crying but couldn’t remember the dream that had preceded it.

  “Too many frijoles,” Hannah diagnosed at breakfast, but I was a little concerned. Cyn wasn’t eating much, or sleeping much, apparently, but she seemed otherwise okay. I figured it was just the change of environment messing up her bio-rhythms.