Chapter Text
“Please, Tom! I can’t stand this any more.” Daisy’s frightened eyes told that whatever intentions, whatever courage she had had, were definitely gone.
“You two start on home, Daisy,” said Tom. “In Mr. Gatsby’s car.” She looked at Tom, alarmed now, but he insisted with magnanimous scorn.
“Go on. He won’t annoy you. I think he realizes that his presumptuous little flirtation is over.” They were gone, without a word snapped out, made accidental, isolated, like ghosts, even from our pity.
After a moment Tom got up and began wrapping the unopened bottle of whiskey in the towel, “Want any of this stuff? Jordan? … Nick?”
I didn’t answer.
“Nick?” He asked again.
“What?”
“Want any?”
“No… I just remembered that today’s my birthday.”
I was thirty. Before me stretched the portentous, menacing road of a new decade.
It was seven o’clock when we got into the coupe with him and started for Long Island. Tom talked incessantly, exulting and laughing, but his voice was as remote from Jordan and me as the foreign clamor on the sidewalk or the tumult of the elevated overhead. I gazed outside at the streets of New York. Dust hung in the air as I replayed the day's events on repeat in my mind.
A familiar pink suit caught my eye.
“Tom, stop.” I motioned to him with my hand.
“What’re you on about now, Nick?”
He stared at me with a hard gaze. I assumed that I interrupted him, but insisted, “Stop!” I raised my voice, grabbing Tom’s arm. He swerved to the side of the road. Jordan shrieked in the backseat. “God damn you, Nick!” He boomed, stopping the car.
I opened the door and raced back a block, “Jay!”
He looked up from his deep conversation with the sidewalk and met my gaze. He frowned at me. As soon as I was close enough I spoke softer than I had a moment before.
“...What happened? Where is Daisy?”
He shook his head aimlessly, “I don’t know.”
Tom appeared behind me, storming past and gripping Gatsby hard by his shoulders,
"The hell did you do with her?”
He demanded in an excited voice. He shoved Gatsby against the wall of a nearby building. I half expected for Gatsby to act as he had an hour ago and defend himself, but he stood there weak. Whatever had happened between him and Daisy had rendered him useless in terms of defense.
I gripped the back of Tom’s hulking shoulders and pulled, though it reminded me of how completely counterproductive I was being as he towered over me.
“Tom, stop it!” I shoved him. He screamed foreboding words at Gatsby who finally spoke up after he had enough.
“I don’t know where she is!” Tom’s stare grew more hesitant.
“What do you mean?” He demanded. He backed off a considerable distance, but still held Gatsby firmly in his grasp.
“She told me to get out and drove God knows where.” Tom had let go of him now. Hopelessness plastered across both of their faces. Two sides of the same coin. I approached Gatsby and patted him gently on the shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be alright, old sport.” He straightened his jacket and spoke to Tom, still looking at me. “I swear it. Just a few miles up from here.” He confirmed, turning to Tom now who stared at the wall with hollow eyes. Jordan and I exchanged uneasy glances.
“She must’ve started on home. I suppose I talked some sense into her, didn’t I, Nick?” Tom looked at me for confirmation. I didn’t answer, focusing on Gatsby instead who looked unbearably lost. Tom approached Gatsby again.
“No. You see here, Mr. Gatsby, she realized she doesn’t love you and that’s what happened.” He huffed triumphantly
Gatsby stared at him with a cynical glare before moving out of the way and continuing down the sidewalk silently.
“Jay!” I called after him, following.
“I’ll be alright.”
“You can take a ride with us.”
He turned to me as if I had asked something absurd of him. A compound of complex emotions cemented themselves in his expression. Tom and Jordan stared at the two of us with baffled faces.
“You go on ahead.” I called to them. “We’ll be walking.”
Tom frowned at me, “We’ve got to find Daisy.”
“I’ll catch up.” I assured him with clear resentment in my voice. I knew that Gatsby cared far more about Daisy than Tom ever did or would, and I felt more inclined to stay with him rather than Tom. If anyone wanted to find Daisy, it was Gatsby. He would feel more complacent in opening up with me if it were just the two of us as well. Maybe I could get the truth. Jordan and Tom drove off without another word. Though Jordan and I shared unspoken words that had stirred my heart.
“Jay, what happened?” I turned to Gatsby as Tom’s car disappeared into the clouds of ash that burdened the valley. “I don’t know.” He responded quickly with an edge to his voice.
“We ought to get out of the ash.” I advised as the thick air filled my lungs. Gatsby nodded, “We’ll catch a taxi. I saw a few passing.”
“At this time of night?”
“Yes, old sport. Right there, see.”
We stepped lively toward a dull yellow taxi. The ash had clearly drained its color. The driver was an older man with a large hooked nose that held over a gray mustache. His cracked lips matched his raspy voice. He had a dull green hat. “Where to?” He rasped.
“The West Egg.” Gatsby said with no hesitation. He handed the driver some amount of money and turned to me fully with clear remorse.
“I’m not sure what happened. We were driving, you see— just driving—and she just started screaming. She was screaming at me, old sport. She just kept screaming ‘get out!’ and things of that sort.”
My eyes widened, “Daisy did?” I blinked.
He nodded, “She did. I tried to talk some sense into her but she simply wouldn’t have it. She pulled over a mile or two from here and just kept screaming, ‘get out!’ over and over.” He shifted uncomfortably, glancing out the window.
“I swear it, old sport. I didn’t do anything to her. Didn’t say one word. There was nothing but silence in that car.” I frowned at him. I believed him, but on the contrary I didn’t believe Daisy. I had never known her to be the type to get worked up in such a way.
“I’m sorry, Jay.” I shook my head, “And you don’t know anything that might’ve caused her?” He threw up his hands half way and a dry laugh left his mouth.
“Not a clue.” He sighed, burying his face in his hands briefly, “That Tom’ll have my head for this.” I felt myself smile the slightest at his joke, but it quickly faded.
At a loss for words, I found myself staring at the world outside our ride. It was a moonless sky that night. As empty as the words that our group had shared to one another and just as meaningless. Until now. I had done my best to be genuine with everyone that had attended our unpleasant evening, but it was hard when I was forced in the same room as someone such as Tom. I found it easier to be both honest and earnest when around Gatsby.
I assured myself that it was just his captivating charm, but I knew that was the least of it.
“...Boy!” A raspy voice awoke me from my quiet contemplation. I glanced at the driver. Gatsby placed a hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
“We’re here.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Gatsby nodded at me with an uncertain expression. I followed him down the path of our neighborhood. We walked side by side in silent confusion.
“It’s my birthday today.” I said suddenly, at a loss of what had caused me to.
Gatsby turned to me and frowned, “Is it?” He shook his head, “I wish I had known.” He stuffed his hands into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “Here, now..”
“Oh! No.” I raised a hand, “I’m just fine.”
Gatsby met my eyes again, looking ashamed, “Well, I insist. It is your birthday.”
I smiled back crookedly, “It’s okay.”
He placed his wallet back into his pocket. “Then,” He started, “Happy birthday.”
As we approached my house, I turned to leave and was interrupted by Gatsby.
“Wait—” He started, unsure of what to say next. I understood.
“You’ll be alright.” I nodded at him with confident encouragement which I had lacked myself.
He avoided my gaze for a moment before nodding once, “...Right.”
“Good night, Jay.”
“Good night, old sport.”
He moved across my yard toward his own house, turning back to me a few times. Each turn, I nodded at him to continue. As soon as he was out of view, I entered my house and collapsed on the couch. I was exhausted. A sigh blew out of my lips. Where had Daisy gone? Why had she gone? I felt half embarrassed that I had left Jordan so suddenly, but it had been made clear to me that she didn't like me any more than I her. At least, not romantically. She was a fine friend, really just as fine as any. Much better than Tom. A knock rang on my door not five minutes later.
“Hello!” I rang out in surprise. Gatsby looked down with furrowed brows.
“Forgive me. I—” He paused, beginning to find his words once again. He hesitated, stuttering for a moment.
He brought a single hand up to his lips before speaking. “I don’t want to be alone.” He admitted shyly.
I smiled at him, though I presumed it wasn’t nearly as charming as anything he could manage.
“You can stay for the night.” I offered in a kind tone.
“I don’t mind.” I lifted my hand to the back of my neck. That was the truth. I really didn’t mind. I entertained the thought that it might make me feel better in turn to have company for the night.
“I haven’t got a guest room set up.” I commented, a little embarrassed. “You can sleep in my bed?” I proposed, “I can sleep out here on the couch.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t. You go on ahead.” He nodded to me with a tense smile.
“You’re sure?”
“Quite.”
I began to clean off the cluttered couch, apologizing briefly. Though my house was never all that chaotic, it tended to humiliate me even so. The only part of my small dwelling that was usually messy, was my office. It was littered with paper upon paper, crumpled and flat, of writing that had never made it out quite right. I gathered a pillow and blanket for Gatsby and left them out on the couch.
“I'm sorry.” I mumbled, ashamed, “It’s nothing glamorous.” I smiled awkwardly. He shook his head in perfect sympathy, “It’s perfect.” He assured me, flashing his own smile that shocked my heart for a moment. He took off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. My face flushed for a moment before I realized he was wearing garments under his attire.
“You look tired.” He glanced at me.
“I’m fine.” I chuckled dryly. He nodded, flicking off the lamp next to his makeshift bed, “You should get to bed.”
I cleared my throat, “I will. Goodnight.” I called as I started down the hall.
“Goodnight.” He responded, barely audibly. I stumbled off into my darkened room towards a sleepless night of regret.