Bend Me, Break Me (7 page)

“Come on in, come on in,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder and ushering me inside.

“Cool it, Marty,” Coen said with a sharp look. Marty raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I can be a little hands-on. Well. It was nice to meet you, but I’ve got to head to the gym. This body wasn’t built in a day,” he said, laughing as if he’d made the funniest joke ever. I just stared at Coen, who shrugged. He had warned me, I suppose.

Marty was out of there faster than a blink. I half expected to see a cloud of dust in his wake, like in a cartoon.

“Sooo, that’s my roommate,” Coen said with a shrug as the door slammed.

“He’s… nice,” I said, not sure what else to call him.

“Yeah, he takes a little bit of getting used to. But he’s a good guy to have around. Anyway,” he said, stepping back. “Do you want something other than tea? I, um, went to the store and found some vegan stuff.” He went to his mini fridge and picked up a few boxes, showing them to me.

“Oh, wow. You didn’t have to do that.” I’d brought my own snacks this time, since I’d bought groceries the previous Sunday.

“Yeah, but I figured eating better wasn’t a bad thing.” I was pretty sure that was a lie, but the gesture was… sweet. Very sweet.

He’d made up his bed like a couch, with pillows so we could sit on it. I set my bag down and sat on the bed, sliding until my back was against the wall. Coen took the space next to me. I wished we were in the library. There were no beds in the library.

He smiled at me and handed me the box of vegan cookies. They were my favorite kind, actually.

“Thanks,” I said, opening them and taking out a few.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he said, taking a few after I handed him the box.

“Do what?”

“Eat vegan. I looked it up online because I couldn’t really remember what it was about and shit. It’s hardcore. You don’t eat a lot of tofu, do you?” I almost laughed. Almost.

“No, I don’t. I’ve never been a fan. But there are tons of things that are vegan. It’s more acceptable now and easier to find in the stores. Plus, I can order things online if I need to.”

“Cool,” he said, reaching for the box. I passed it to him and our fingers bumped during the exchange. I tried to ignore it.

“We should probably get to work,” I said, stating the obvious. Coen munched a few cookies and agreed. We each pulled out our respective work and I realized how quiet the room was. At least in the library, there were people walking by and I had my music. It seemed rude to bring it out when it was just the two of us.

“Do you maybe want some music?” he asked, getting up. I swallowed hard. He must have read my mind.

“Sure,” I said, wondering what the hell he was going to play. I didn’t think we would have the same taste at all. He scrolled through his phone and then a smile flickered on his face before he set it in a dock with speakers and “Set Fire to the Third Bar” by Snow Patrol started to play.

“Is this okay?” he asked over the music.

“Yeah,” I said. He couldn’t possibly know that I loved this song. He came back to the bed and handed me a little remote.

“If there’s anything you want to skip, go ahead. I’m a little bit of a music junkie, so I’ve got a little of everything.” Interesting. I wondered how many other songs I liked that he would have. He sighed and picked up one of his textbooks, opening it on his lap. I did the same as the song ended and switched to “Starlight” by Muse. Two songs. Two songs that I loved.

We turned pages and scanned words and the music played on. Muse to Sam Hunt to Taylor Swift to Frank Sinatra to Tom Petty. There wasn’t one song that I hadn’t listened to before. The more songs played, the more I was distracted from what I was supposed to be doing. Coen was diligently reading, turning pages and highlighting, taking notes and working.

I reached for the box of cookies and it knocked over, spilling out onto the comforter.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to pick them up and shove them back in the box. There were crumbs everywhere.

“No big,” he said, hopping up and clearing off the bed before sweeping the crumbs into his hand and dumping them in the trash. Before we sat down again, he shook out the comforter.

“I’ll vacuum later,” he said, as if I’d criticized him. I definitely wasn’t one to talk about keeping my own room spotless. Most of the time cleaning was the last thing I wanted to do, so I avoided it at all costs.

“I didn’t say anything,” I said and he gestured to the now-clean bed. I sat down again, but he seemed… jumpy.

“Do you want anything else? I have soda and stuff.” He opened the mini fridge and gestured to several rows of cans.

“Sure,” I said and he grabbed me a Coke, as well as one for himself.

Our hands touched again with the handoff and I found myself getting more and more aware that it was just the two of us here in this small room.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I’d been staring at the can without opening it.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, cracking it open and taking a sip, spilling a drop on my shirt.

“We can go back to the library if you’re uncomfortable. Or down to the study lounge. The chairs are all broken and the couch smells like feet, but…” I shook my head.

“No, this is fine. I’m just… I’m not used to being around another person. I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. I don’t have a roommate, or friends.” I couldn’t believe I was telling him this. He leaned against his desk and he had the strangest expression on his face. Like he wanted to tell me something. I had to look away from him.

“You’re just a loner. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I shook my head. He was just being nice.

“There’s a lot wrong with it and I don’t think you’d find anyone who would argue with me on that point.” He opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut before taking a sip of soda.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you and I’d fight anyone who said otherwise. So there.” His jaw was tight, as if he was gritting his teeth.

Why did he care so much? Sure we were friends (sort of), but he knew nothing about me. Just a few weeks of spending time together did not a friendship make. The semester would end and we wouldn’t have class together anymore and that would be it. He’d drop me and go back to his regular life doing whatever it was that he did.

To break the tension, I set my textbook back on my lap. Coen came back over and sat down.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I looked up. His eyes were so green. I’d never seen anyone with irises like that before.

“For what?”

“For making you feel weird. Sometimes I say things and then realize that they might not be the best things to say, but you can’t unsay something. You know?” He was nervous, his words coming out in a jerky rush.

“It’s fine, Coen. I’m fine.” The more he talked, the more I wanted to leave. This had been a bad idea.

I was blowing it again. She was just so skittish when it came to people talking to her, or taking an interest in her, or just plain being nice to her. I didn’t for a second believe that she was broken beyond repair. Life had definitely banged her around, left her with bruises, but anyone with eyes could see that she wasn’t broken. She was the strongest person I’d ever met. Well, except for maybe Mom.

I thought the cookies would help, but she was still just as ready to bolt as ever. I couldn’t seem to find a good way to get through to her and make her want to stay.

“Maybe we should watch a movie or something,” I suggested. I’m pretty sure neither of us has actually completed any assignments.” I knew I hadn’t, and it was a long time since she turned a page in her book.

“Shouldn’t we do homework?” she said, and I could feel her slipping away. She hadn’t moved, but she was definitely heading toward the door.

“We can do both. I mean, if you want to.” I gripped the edge of my desk and hoped she couldn’t see how much I wanted her to stay. I was not going to beg. That would definitely send up red flags for her and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Okay,” she said and I breathed a little sigh of relief, although I was kicking myself for not having a better selection. A lot of my Blu-rays were at home.

“How about this?” she asked, holding up the case for
That Awkward Moment
. I wondered if she’d seen it before, or if she had just grabbed it because Zac Efron was on the cover of the case.

“Works for me,” I said. It was a funny movie. I always lost it when the guys took Viagra and then had to piss lying across the toilets.

“I’ve never seen this,” she admitted after I put the Blu-ray in and grabbed the remote.

“It’s funny. And, you know, it has Zac Efron in it. If you’re into that sort of thing.” Great, now she was going to think I was gay. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

“Yeah, I guess. All I see when I look at him is that horrible haircut he had in
High School Musical
and it makes my brain hurt.” Whoa. That was funny. Ingrid just said something funny. I laughed in surprise and handed her the remote.

“I never saw those movies. They, ah, weren’t really my thing.” She hit Play on the movie and nodded.

“Yeah, they weren’t mine, either. I just watched them because my—” She cut herself off. I was pretty sure I knew what she was going to say in the rest of that sentence, but I had to pretend like I didn’t.

“Because?” I said and she shook her head.

“Never mind.” Her lips formed a thin line and her eyebrows drew together.

“Look, Ingrid, I get that you have stuff you don’t want to talk to me about. It’s okay. I’m not going to push you to tell me all your dark secrets.” She looked down at the remote.

“Most people would want to know. They’re always curious.”

“Hey,” I said, touching her shoulder. She jerked with the contact.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know, but you can tell me when you’re ready. If you ever are. I just like hanging out with you and I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me or not tell me anything. I just like being around you.” I clenched my teeth together and hoped that she wouldn’t read too much into what I’d said.

“I don’t know why,” she said in a whisper.

I sighed.

“I can’t explain it. I just… I just want to be your friend. That’s it.” Lie, lie, lie. It burned in the back of my throat, but I couldn’t let it out.

“That’s crazy. No one wants to be my friend.” She let out a little breathy laugh. This definitely wasn’t funny.

“Well. I do. So there.” She looked up and I swore I saw a tear on her cheek. It took everything in me not to brush it away.

“We’re missing the movie,” I said, pointing to the TV.

She nodded and surreptitiously wiped the tear away.

We started out watching with at least a foot and a half of space between us, but somehow, by the end, our shoulders were a fraction away from touching. I kept picturing her sighing and leaning on my shoulder and then me putting my arm around her. I wanted to hold her so much. Just hold her. That was it. I’d never wanted anything that badly. I almost shook with it.

She barely laughed at all, but I did hear her once or twice. It was more laughter than I’d heard from her in the previous weeks combined. I counted that as a victory, even if she was laughing at the antics of the characters in the movies instead of me. It was a little step in the right direction.

When the credits rolled, she turned to me. Her face was more open than I’d seen it in a while. Relaxed. It looked good on her.

“Thanks, that was fun,” she said. Our faces weren’t very far apart at all. If she was another girl, I would have leaned in and kissed her. But she wasn’t another girl. She was Ingrid, and she was important. I couldn’t screw this up. I would hate myself for the rest of my life if I did.

“Do you, um, want to watch another movie?” I asked, choking a little on my words and looking away from her unbelievable eyes. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. They were so mesmerizing.

I felt her hesitate, but then she nodded.

“Sure.”

We got snacks and then I pulled up Netflix. I let her scroll through and pick what she wanted. I didn’t care what it was. We could watch a movie about paint drying and I would have loved it.

“Have you ever seen the show
Justified
?” she asked. I’d never watched it, but it had been in my recommendations for a while.

“No, is it good?” She nodded and clicked on the first episode.

“It gets a little bloody at some points, but it’s really good.” I raised an eyebrow and she shrugged.

“What? I like Timothy Olyphant.” Ah. So that was the kind of guy she went for.

“Interesting,” I said, pretending to stroke a beard on my chin.

She bumped my shoulder with hers.

“Shut up.”

Now she was being playful. Yet another side of Ingrid that I hadn’t seen yet.

“Okay, okay,” I said, putting my hands in the air in surrender. She bit her bottom lip and I thought it was to keep from smiling. Like she was only allowed to smile a few times a day or something. It was my new mission in life to get her to smile as much as possible. And to laugh. I wanted her to let herself laugh.

Against my will, I was letting myself get more comfortable with Coen. I could feel it happening, but I couldn’t stop it. Fighting it was just too much work. He had an easy way about him that washed over me and brought me out of myself. Or perhaps brought me back to the person I used to be, but wasn’t anymore.

It was an illusion, though. I couldn’t be that girl ever again. Not even with him. I was someone else now.

Coen ended up loving the show, and we got through three episodes before I realized I’d been in his room all day and it was time for dinner. I wasn’t going to say anything, but then my stomach growled. The snacks had been several hours ago and I wanted some real food.

“Oh, shit, I didn’t realize what time it is,” Coen said, jumping up from the bed and rushing to the fridge. He raked his hand through his hair, making the curls straighten and then bounce back on themselves, settling into place.

“Um, I don’t have… anything.” There were only soda cans and bottles of water in his fridge.

“That’s okay, I should probably get back anyway.” I started to get up, but he held his hand up for me to stop. He went to his desk and pulled something out. Menus.

“Okay, I have a bunch of menus, but I don’t know what places have something you can eat, so you pick and I’ll order it.” He fanned out the menus and held them toward me, like a giant deck of cards.

“No, you don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal. I have food back at my place.” He shook his head and just shoved the menus between us.

“No way, it’s not a big deal. Besides, I should learn more about vegan food. Teach me, Yoda.” The Star Wars reference was so nerdy that it made me want to smile and laugh, but I didn’t.

“Fine,” I said with a sigh, taking the menus from him. I scanned through them all. I hadn’t tried eating much off-campus yet, so I had no idea which places were vegan-friendly. My assumption was that I’d have to get a salad without dressing to have anything to eat, but I was pleasantly surprised that one of the local pizza places offered a vegan and gluten-free pizza, along with salads and vegan dressing.