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Maeby could barely see the darkened road ahead of her as tears streamed out of her eyes. Every stoplight she took a chance to heave over and let her sobs escape. She would then fiercely wipe her nose, embarrassed to be behaving like this. Thankfully the campus wasn’t far from the model house.
It had suddenly become too much, eating cold pizza alone at the dining room table of what Maeby had once considered her home. She couldn’t stop herself from listening for someone coming through the front door, or descending the stairs. She kept expecting her uncle to walk around the corner with a furrowed brow. Her throat closed in panic when she realized that if she choked on her food, no one would be there to save her, and she would lay there for days, weeks even, before someone noticed. Gasping for breath, Maeby grabbed her car keys and went to the only family member she had.
She felt pathetic.
She had lost track of how many years she had been in high school and her parents clearly couldn’t give less of a shit. They couldn’t even have been bothered to make sure the other parent was looking after her.
Maeby scanned George Michael’s keycard and entered the resident hall. She had swiped his and made a copy a few weeks earlier, pretending to be an RA to gain access to their equipment. She also did P-Hound’s just to be safe.
She made her way to George Michael’s room, hesitating slightly before knocking. She was suddenly very aware of her puffy red eyes and running nose. It wasn’t too late to leave. She would definitely be saving face.
But a moment later a bleary eyed George Michael opened the door, eyes widening when he realized who it was.
“Maeby,” he whispered, “is something wrong? Why are you here?” He looked down the hallway as if expecting to see the rest of the family.
She tried to think of a casual reason for dropping by at one in the morning. “Uh, there’s a gas leak at the model house and I need to sleep here.”
He blinked. “But I-I thought the ovens were electric. Like the metal coily kind.”
Fuck. Of course he would remember that.
“Well they said it was a leak and I didn’t want to die. I mean, look how red my eyes got!” She walked past him into the room. “Is P-Hound out tonight?”
“Yeah, I guess he had a date or something. Looks like it went well.” He closed the door and shuffled back into the room. “Ok, um, the top bunk is yours. Kind of like when we shared a room, you know?”
Maeby smiled. She thought back to the nights she has laid awake, listening to the sound of him breathing. Or the times she kept him up by telling jokes or playing games of truth or dare. George Michael always seemed more eager to pick dare.
“Sounds good.” She kicked off her shoes and climbed the ladder to the top bunk, settling in.
She listened to George Michael get back into bed. “Good night,” he whispered.
“Good night.”
Both were quiet for several minutes. Maeby was still feeling her earlier dread, attempting to calm herself by listening to George Michael’s steady breathing. She closed her eyes and, for a moment, pretended she was back home. She almost missed the sound of her parents fighting. At least it meant they were around.
Maeby opened her eyes and once again felt much too far away from everyone she knew.
She swung her legs over the bed and jumped to the floor.
“Actually, I have a wicked case of the chills.” She wrapped her arms around herself and mocked a small shiver. “So unless you want to be responsible for my hypothermia I’m gonna need you to scoot over.”
George Michael looked like a deer in the headlights. “I can just- I can just turn up the heat. I don’t want you to feel like you have to-to share a bed with me.”
Maeby ignored the slight sting of rejection. He didn't mean to hurt her. "Well that'll just wreak havoc on your heating bill and you know these colleges are just trying to get money out of you any way they can."
"I don't get billed for-"
But Maeby was already sliding into bed next to him. George Michael ended up with his back to the wall, Maeby laying on her side facing him. She pulled the blankets over the two of them. "I just saved you a fortune. You're welcome."
"Again, they don't bill me for heating. In fact I can't even change the temperature by more than one degree, they have it locked. I think the guys next to me figured out a way around it though because their room is like a freezer..."
This is exactly what Maeby needed. Listening to him prattle on the technicalities of his dorm life helped her feel more normal. And, no longer feeling like she was on the verge of a panic attack, Maeby decided to be honest with her cousin.“I lied earlier.”
George Michael paled. “Oh my god did the gas leak burn the house down?”
She rolled her eyes. “No you were right the first time, Those places are way too shitty to have gas ranges.”
“Well apparently my dad couldn’t afford to get a gas line up there. Although I prefer a coil stove myself. But an argument could be made for both, I guess.” He remembered the topic at hand. “So, then, why are you here?”
“I kind of freaked out for a minute, thought about how long it would take for someone to find my rotting corpse up there if I died.”
She knew the macabre description would get the response she wanted.
“Oh geez, well, Maeby, you usually text me everyday. If I didn’t hear from you I would try to call. If you didn’t answer I would drive over and make sure you were alright. It would be 24 hours maximum before we found you. So you don’t have to worry about, like, rotting or whatever.”
Somehow this did make Maeby feel a little better. To know that someone would notice her absence.
“And if I put you down as my emergency contact would you come to the hospital?” This wasn’t total fantasy; Maeby had been putting her uncle Michael as her emergency contact since she was 14. After he had moved to Phoenix, Maeby had picked George Michael instead. She never told him.
He turned onto his side to fully face her. “Are you kidding me? I’d be breaking the speed limit if I had a car to drive there.”
She smiled, feeling better than she had in a while.
“And when they ask you when my birthday is?”
“September 22nd. I remember because you joked once you were glad you weren’t born 11 days earlier.”
Maeby couldn’t believe he remembered that. Her heart swelled with affection. She wrapped her arm around his torso and curled closer to him, resting her head just below his neck. George Michael froze, barely breathing, as if afraid to scare her off.
“Can you name at least five of the movies I executively produced?” While she didn’t like to think back on her stressful time in the industry much, she still appreciated the credit.
George Michael tried to gather his thoughts. “Uh, Gangie, I think the first four. The Young Man and the Beach was an early one, uh, Love, Indubitably, although I saw they took it off Netflix after those people died on the ride. Oh, and, uh, Almost Cousins, of course. At least, off the top of my head. I know there were a few more.”
Maeby wrapped her arm tighter around him. He gingerly laid his arm over her, letting his body relax a little.
“What killed my twin sister Surely?”
“Well the B.S. spread to her, uh, ear canal and, according to you, corrupted her ability to move, hear, and speak. She was gone within the day. It was tragic.”
“Her funeral postponed prom for a week. It was incredible.” She leaned back to look up at him. “How do you remember all this stuff?”
“Oh, it’s easy. You just remember things about the people that you… you know.. The people that are closest to you. You just remember those kinds of things.”
She sighed. “It would take a fucking miracle for my parents to even remember to call me, let alone remember that stuff.”
He wrapped his arm tighter around her. “Is that why you came, you were feeling alone?”
She sighed. “I just needed to remind myself that I have at least one person who would notice if I suddenly dropped dead.”
"Maeby there are so many people that care about you, even if it doesn't feel like it sometimes. You know, if you ever feel like this again you can just call me, day or night. I'll answer any questions you have. I could probably write the book on Maeby Fünke."
She knew he could. She knew no one in the world knew her better than he did. And then, suddenly overwhelmed by love for her cousin, Maeby leaned up and kissed George Michael. Not to prove a point to her parents, not because the floor had collapsed, not because she was fake drunk on fake wine, purely because she wanted to. George Michael froze for a moment before fervently kissing her back, his hand sliding to the back of her head. She realized just how much better at kissing he had gotten since they were 16.
They broke apart after a few moments, catching their breath.
"You know, if you ever want a place where you can change the thermostat whenever you want, the model house is always there."
George Michael fiddled with her hair. "Would we still have to sleep in a bunk bed?"
She snorted. "I've upgraded to the master, but we can spend the night there for old times sake, if you want."
He kissed her gently. "For old times sake."