They didn't stay for much longer after that.
By the time Trent got back and started mingling again, he ended up discovering that everyone had a reason they wanted to leave. Bea was getting horny. Mae was getting tired. Ann was getting worn out from being around so many people and socializing so much, just like Trent. So they said their goodbyes, mostly to Gregg, Angus, and Jackie, piled into the Jeep, and started driving back home. This time Trent sat in the back with Mae.
"That was actually pretty fun," Ann said.
"Were you worried?" Bea asked.
"Yeah. I guess I was. I used to go to these when I was your guys' age. It was okay, kind of fun. But I was worried given my rep has gone down the drain that people would be more...uh, disrespectful. But honestly it went pretty well. I even got to sneak off at one point to makeout with Mae, and that was a lot of fun, right Mae?" She paused. "Mae?"
Trent glanced over and realized at once Mae was hugging herself tightly, staring down at the floor between her feet. Right as he began to ask her what was wrong, she began crying.
"Oh man, what's happening?" Bea asked.
"I'm stupid now!" Mae cried, covering her face with both hands.
"What?" Ann asked, turning around in her seat. "Mae, what are you talking about? What's going on?"
"Do I need to pull over?" Bea asked.
"I just remembered the car ride home from that first party!" Mae replied.
"Oh. Oh God. Mae, I'm so sorry," Bea said.
"Mae, you aren't stupid," Trent said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I am! I used to be smart and now I'm stupid because of my stupid fucking brain and that fucking goddamned Black Goat!" she wailed.
"Mae, you aren't stupid, I'm sorry I said that! I was wrong! Fuck, should I pull over? We're almost home," Bea replied.
"Get us home," Trent replied, undoing his seatbelt and scooting over up against Mae. He gave her a tentative hug, not sure if she wanted to be hugged in that moment, but she clung to him immediately, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him hard enough to hurt. She pressed her face into his chest, still crying. Sobbing really. Trent immediately felt for her. He'd never had something like an abrupt recovery of a repressed or lost memory, but he had been suddenly reminded of something painful and traumatic and it could be such an awful, horrible feeling to have thrust upon you. Especially after having such a good night, and also probably having lowered defenses after being emotionally taxed by being around so many people for hours.
"Mae, I'm really sorry," Bea said.
"No, you're right! I was smart! I used to be! I'm not! I'm so fucking stupid now!"
"Mae, you aren't stupid," Ann said.
"They're right, Mae," Trent said.
"I dropped out of college! I can't hold down a fucking job! I don't have a fucking license!"
"That's not because you're stupid, Mae," Trent said.
She didn't respond to that, continuing to cry instead. He wasn't sure exactly what to do and looked at Ann, who, for once, seemed just as lost as he did. Bea was, ever the responsible one, focusing on driving, but he could tell she was miserable. They drove the rest of the way home without saying much of anything else. He held Mae as she cried and just generally felt awful about everything. About how she felt, about how Bea must feel.
When she pulled into the driveway, Bea immediately turned around in her seat. She winced when she saw that Mae was still pressed against Trent, her face buried in his chest.
"Mae, please stop crying. I was wrong. I didn't mean it, I was just really angry and I didn't understand-"
"Can we go inside?" Mae asked. She sounded exhausted, but she also sounded calmer, at least. She had stopped crying at some point.
"Yes, we should go inside," Ann said.
Bea made an anxious sound, then nodded and got out. They all left the Jeep and headed into the house. Mae was leaning heavily on Trent for support and he finally put together that she was absolutely exhausted, not just miserable. Well, he knew crying hard always took it out of him, and she had also just gone to a whole party, and it was pretty late now. He was actually impressed that she was still awake.
In fact, as they got inside and he sat her down on the couch, it seemed like she was staying up through sheer willpower at this point. He sat beside her and Ann sat on her other side while Bea paced anxiously in front of the coffee table.
"I'm sorry, Mae," she said.
"It's okay, Bea, we've gone through it already," Mae replied, then yawned. "God, I'm so tired. I just-it was kind of overwhelming. Remembering that car ride home and how ugly it got. I guess driving back from a party in the exact same spot just unlocked the drunk memory. God, I'm never getting drunk again," she groaned. "But I was kind of being a drunk shithead and I forgot about your mom and that's fucking awful of me, and you were still mad about college and me abandoning you-"
"But that doesn't excuse my shitty behavior and making you cry," Bea replied, stopping and hugging herself, staring at them all on the couch. "I feel so bad-"
"I know, I do too. It's just-it sucked all around. But that isn't why I started crying. I was crying because I am stupid now. I feel stupider than when I was younger. It's harder to focus and understand things, I was barely making Cs in college…"
"Okay, but Mae," Trent said, "was that because you didn't get it, or because you were too exhausted and frightened and homesick to actually focus on the classes? Because those are two different things."
"...I get what you're saying," she said after a moment, then yawned again and rubbed at her eyes. "Ugh, I hate being tired like this!"
"Maybe you should go to bed," Ann said.
"I definitely should but I don't want to leave Bea hanging, or all of you, really. I'm upset because I feel like my mental illness and the Black Goat robbed me of my intelligence, that's as good as I can put it," Mae replied.
"Mae, I don't know for sure what's going on in your head, but I think you're wrong," Bea said.
"How? I'm definitely dumber."
"You aren't though! I remember in the days after the whole thing in the mine, you kept trying to explain what you thought had happened, but you kept losing your train of thought or giving up. But you don't do that anymore! Or at least not more than, like, a regular person. You're a lot more articulate in the past few months, Mae. And you don't lose your train of thought that often! I think you're right that damage was done, and a common side effect of depression and anxiety, and whatever else you might have, is memory loss and inability to focus and sleep issues, which only exacerbate focusing and memory problems. You aren't stupid, Mae. I'm not saying you don't have problems, but they're problems you're working through, problems that will get better with time and effort. I mean, we haven't even gotten you on any meds yet, or gotten some real therapy. Like, we still have a lot of ground to cover."
"...maybe you're right," Mae murmured after a moment. She nodded off for a second, then shook her head and sighed. "Fuck!" She refocused on Bea. "Listen, Bea, don't feel bad about the argument in the car. It was just a shitty time all around for both of us."
"It was more than that. You were drunk and suffering memory problems from a mental health issue, I was taking out my anger on you. I was wrong and it was a fucked thing to do. I said awful things to you, and I appreciate what you're saying, but I don't want you to try and play this off with a 'we were both shitty' argument when I was clearly the shittier one by a wide margin. I was yelling at my drunk, suffering childhood friend because I was angry and I made her cry...and you were just trying to apologize and reconnect with me and figure out why I was so mad at you all the time. And all I could do was tell you how stupid I thought you were," Bea said, tears welling up in her own eyes. "And I'm so sorry about that."
Mae got to her feet. "I forgive you, Bea." She walked around the coffee table and hugged Bea closely. "Please, please don't beat yourself up about it. You went through a lot, and it isn't fair, and you had so much to deal with."
"But, Mae-"
"Bea, just...please. Let me forgive you and let it go. We let the other stuff go. You can't hold onto this. I don't want you to. It hurts you. You don't deserve it." She squeezed her. "I love you, okay?"
"...I love you too, Mae," Bea murmured, then sniffed.
Mae stepped back from her after a moment and swayed. "Shit, I might actually fall asleep standing up. Um, can I get some help? I'm sorry, I swear I'm not trying to ditch this conversation, I really am this fucking tired."
Trent was already on his feet. He scooped Mae up in his arms and she smiled up at him. "You're so nice," she murmured.
"Sleep, Mae," he replied.
She was already there.
"God, that was intense," Ann murmured.
"Yep," Trent replied, walking for the stairs.
"I'm sorry," Bea said.
"It's fine, Bea. It's just...a thing that happened."
"Do you think I'm a piece of shit for this?" she asked as they headed upstairs.
"Of course not, Bea. I'm with Mae on this one. It's just a shitty thing you did, under really trying circumstances. We're not perfect all the time, Bea. None of us are. None of us ever will be. Sometimes we're going to be shitheads to each other. Best we can do is acknowledge it, forgive it, and move on. Try to do better. And you've done so much better. The point you made to Mae about her intelligence and recovery, it applies to you, too, you know. You aren't nearly as bitter and cynical as both you and Mae made you out to be before we met. And even since we met, you've lightened up. It's not exactly a one-to-one comparison, but you're a good person, Bea...okay?"
She sighed. "I...I need a cigarette."
"Are you okay?" Ann asked.
"I'll be fine."
She walked out while Trent was finishing undressing Mae. He sighed and got her under the covers, made sure she was comfortable, laying on her side, then turned to Ann. "I'm going to check on her, you should get some sleep."
"You should too, you look really tired," Ann replied uncomfortably.
"I'll be okay," Trent replied.
"That's what she just said."
He laughed tiredly. "I know, but really, get some sleep."
She considered it for a moment, then nodded. "All right. But come get me, if you need emotional backup? Please?"
"I will," he promised.
They shared a kiss and he headed downstairs. He found Bea sitting on his back porch in one of the chairs, puffing away at a cigarette.
"I'm okay," she said without looking back.
"You aren't," he replied. "But...if you need to be alone, I'll respect that."
She was silent for a long few seconds, then her shoulders slumped. "I don't want to be alone," she murmured. "But I probably deserve to be."
"You don't," Trent said, sitting in the chair beside her.
"Of course you'd say that, you're my boyfriend and a good person."
"You don't think I'd call you on your bullshit?"
She stared at him, cigarette hanging from her lips. She took a deep pull on it and then blew out a large cloud of smoke. "Probably, I guess," she admitted.
"I won't say I'm completely unbiased, but I'm not just bullshitting you. Yeah, I love you. Yeah, I think you're a good person. And yeah, I think that was an ugly night, and you fucked up, but we've all fucked up. Mae forgives you. This is between you and her, because as far as I know, you two were the only ones involved."
"Yeah, just us," Bea murmured. She took another few puffs. "I still feel bad. I wish-" She sat up suddenly, then stubbed out her cigarette on the bottom of her boot, pocketed it, and stood up.
"What's going on?" he asked, following her as she went back inside.
"I'm going to carpet the basement for Mae. It'll make me feel better, and it'll be practically useful, too. Also, I'm really the only one I trust to do it. Well, I'd trust you...I guess I don't know how Ann would be with it…"
"You don't trust Mae to do it right," Trent said.
She sighed. "I just-I'm doing this." She took off her jacket and then headed downstairs.
"Can I help?" he asked, following her still.
"No, I...need to do this by myself. But...I won't kick you out, or anything. Although you should really get some sleep if you're tired enough. I know that party kinda wore you out…"
He could tell she didn't want to be alone still. "I've got an idea," he said. "Be right back."
Trent headed back upstairs and grabbed his laptop, grateful that he'd left it plugged in. He came back down and sat at the foot of the stairs. Bea was on the floor, cutting into one of the boxes that held the pads.
"What are you gonna do?" she asked as he fired up his laptop.
"Work on my Demontower Two fan fic. I figure it'll make Mae happy if she wakes up to more to read. I'm almost done with the next chapter," he replied.
"That's really sweet. You're...really good for her. You work really hard for her."
"I don't know, I'm just writing fan fiction for her."
"You're investing time and effort into a project for her, that makes her happy. But I also meant, just, like, in general. You do a lot for her. You just carried her to bed and tucked her in. You hold her when she cries. You walk all over town with her, or drive. You helped make this basement thing happen. You're supporting her while she tries to figure her life out. And you're helping me and Ann…" She paused in her work, looking up and around. "This house. Your house. Like...it's a place for us. A place where we can just fucking...relax. We can just be. You know? I've figured out part of the reason I'm so fucking miserable so often is because I didn't have a place like that. Closest thing is my room, but it's in an apartment I share with my dad. Things are kinda getting better, but it was so sad and miserable after my mom died, and then it became tense and miserable because he just...gave up. That was why I drove a fucking hour and a half once a month: to just relax. To be-" She hesitated, then laughed bitterly and shook her head.
"What?" Trent asked.
"I was going to say 'to be myself' but that's shit. I wasn't myself. I was roleplaying a college student. But, whatever. Past that. Mostly. Anyway, my point is that you are providing a good place for her. Before, we were all living with our parents, and that's what it felt like: living with our parents. But here it feels like...our place."
"That's what I wanted," Trent replied. "And I know exactly what you mean. I wasn't really thinking about it when I moved out here, but as I met you all...yeah, that became a goal. To have a place with a good atmosphere."
"You have succeeded."
"You helped."
"Sometimes," she replied after a moment, then got back to work.
Trent ended up putting on some Breaking Benjamin and wrote as Bea worked to get the padding in place. And he was continually impressed by her work ethic. Even now, working alone, tired, at midnight, she was like a machine. A precision machine. Not only did she get all the padding laid in and affixed in place, she got it done right. It looked professional. And then she rolled out the carpet and got it tucked in all along the edges.
When she was finished, it really did look like someone whose job it was to install carpet had done it. It looked smoothed and perfect.
"Goddamn, Bea," he muttered as she came over and sat down next to him.
"I think it came out pretty well...hmm. I want to move that desk we held onto back down, but...I'm so tired," she groaned.
"Sleep, Bea. You've done way more than enough already," Trent replied.
She sighed. "I guess so."
"Do you feel better?" he asked as they got up.
"I guess. I suppose 'less shitty' is better."
They walked upstairs and then Bea lingered for a bit in the hallway.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Yeah, but...I'm not ready to go up there yet. I kinda just want to sit on the couch for a bit," she replied.
"I'll sit with you," he said.
"Go to bed!" she demanded.
"I'll sit with you," he repeated.
She sighed, but didn't reply again, just took her boots off and then sat down on the couch. He set his laptop out of the way and sat beside her. They both put their feet up on the coffee table. After a moment, he put an arm around her. She immediately leaned against him. There were no lights on, save for the streetlight outside. Somewhere faraway, he heard a train.
"Mae's right," Bea murmured. "That sound is nice. I used to kinda hate it, because I came to associate it with small-town life and feeling stuck here, in a dying, decaying Rust Belt town, but now I like it. I don't really know why."
"Maybe just because she does," he replied.
In the darkness, her hand found his own. She laced their fingers together and pressed herself more tightly against him.
"Right now, I wish I had stronger words than 'I love you'," she said quietly.
"I get that," he murmured, and kissed the side of her head.
"You are so great, and I love you so much, and I wish I wasn't too tired for sex."
He laughed. "I feel the exact same way."
"At least we're both too tired for it." She yawned. "We should probably get upstairs before we're too tired to make it."
"Probably," he agreed. Another few seconds passed. "Mmm...you hear that? It's raining."
"It is," she murmured. "Let's listen to it for a bit."
"Let's."