by Lola West
After my waking wank, I saw to my morning constitutional. Then I ate and watched some TV. And then I decided to go to the gym. Our frat house is on one side of the campus, and the gym is on the other. It was snowing, but I wasn’t going to drive there so I layered up and off I went. Campus was quiet. For someone else it might have been eerie, but I liked it, like I was the last man on earth, free of all my shit, all the pressures and garbage that came with being Senator Scott’s son. I thought about that short story, “To Build a Fire.” The one by Jack London, where the dude ignores the advice of experienced locals and dies out on the frozen tundra or whatever, but his dog lives. That was some real shit right there, like how many men and women think that they know everything, and ignore sound advice because they think they’re gods, only to face-plant, or in the case of that dude, die of hypothermia. Crazy. And then, there she was, my Lua, crying.
Not just crying, she was snot-crying. And what the fuck was she doing sitting outside in the cold weather? She wasn’t even wearing gloves, and the tips of her fingers were all red. I was supposed to walk on by and I tried to. She didn’t even see me. She had her face in her hands, and she was just beside herself. I passed her. I did. I think I got like five feet past her before I stopped. I didn’t turn around immediately. I just kind of stood there, stymied. I knew she didn’t want to associate with me, but she was sad. I didn’t like it. I couldn’t leave her like that, bawling in the fucking frozen tundra, especially after meditating on a guy who died of exposure, albeit in colder weather than we were dealing with.
I turned around, went back to the bench, and sat down. I waited a beat. She knew someone was there, but I wasn’t sure she knew it was me. I was careful not to touch her. I also didn’t look at her when I spoke. “You okay, Lua?”
She didn’t start, which made me think she knew it was me. She sniffled a bit and stopped full-on sobbing before she said, “No.”
I took off my gloves and handed them to her. She took them. As she pulled them over her hands, she looked at me with sad eyes, and I was desperate to pull her into my chest, but I didn’t. Instead, I felt irrationally jealous that my gloves got to touch her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Because she was crying so hard, part of me was panicked that something horrifying had happened, like legitimately bad shit, like death. I mean, there was a storm, and she was sitting on the bench with her bag, waiting. It could have been an accident, Joe or her dad.
She dropped her head down into her now glove-covered hands and whimpered, “I just want to go home, and I don’t have a ride.”
Surprised that it was so simple, I offered. “I can take you there. I can take you there right now.”
She started bawling all over again. It occurred to me that maybe she didn’t want to sit next to me for two hours so I said, “Or you know what, you can take my car.”
I rummaged around in my pockets looking for my keys. I didn’t have them. I had the keys to the frat, but not my car. “Lu, my keys are back at the house. I was going to the gym.” I was rambling nervously like she usually did. “I’ll go get them, and then you can take my car.”
She looked up at me again, catching her breath, breaking the momentum of her tears for a second time. “Drew, I’m not taking your car.”
God, she was so beautiful, even red-faced and snotty. “I wasn’t going anywhere. I’m just staying here for spring break. I can eat in the cafeteria, and you can bring it back later in the week, when the weather’s better. Just wait here. I’ll be right back.” I went to stand up and then remembered how cold she looked. “On second thought, why don’t you meet me at the cafeteria. I’ll drive the car over there and you can get a cup of coffee and maybe a snack for the drive. That way the car’ll be warm when you head out. Yeah… that’s a good idea. You go to the cafeteria and I’ll meet you there.”
I stood. I didn’t just head out because I wanted to see her stand up and head in the direction of the cafeteria. I wanted to know that she wasn’t going to keep sitting on that bench. She sat there for a minute, watching me stand there like an idiot. Then she put both hands on her knees and pushed up to standing. I grabbed her duffel off the ground.
“I’ll take it to the car,” I said, then continuing my role as the blathering idiot, I added, “Shit, is your wallet in here? Do you need this?”
I started to hand it to her, but she shook her head no. She seemed lighter.
She took a deep breath and said, “I’m not taking your car, but I guess you can drive me.” She didn’t say anything else; she just turned and started walking toward the frat house.
36
Lua
Desperate measures? No, that wasn’t a good excuse. Neither one of us said a word after I told him he could drive me home. Any and all communication between us was accomplished using hand signals. We went to his frat house. He signaled that he was going to run up and get the keys. I waited in the lobby or foyer, whatever you would call that room at the front of that house with the evergreen carpet and the big oak table topped with a vase of fresh flowers, like florist flowers. Do these frat boys have housekeepers? Is that a thing? Because that frat house looked more like a schmancy library than a place where college boys got drunk. Let’s just say it was not what I expected. He came back down with the keys. He also got himself another pair of gloves. I looked at the gloves on my hands. It took every ounce of self-respect in my body to not fall apart when I put those gloves on that were still warm with his body heat.
He used his head to signal we should go, then we walked to his car in silence. It was a Land Rover. It could handle the snow. It was also probably worth more than my house, but whatever. He opened the door for me. I climbed in, focused on buckling my seat belt as he ran around the car. He opened the back door and threw my duffel on the back seat, and then I looked out the passenger side window while he got in the car. I decided it was best not to look at him or talk to him. Looking at him made me soft, and talking to him made me stupid. After buckling his own seat belt, he started the car, played with the heat for a second, and then pulled out of the space.
The whole car smelled like him. It was a nightmare. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Joe.
Me: I got a ride.
Joe: Oh, thank fuck. I was so upset, Lu. I know you needed to come home today.
I tried to type something else about my current situation, but I wasn’t sure what to say.
Joe: You know I feel taunted by that pulsing ellipses. Just spit it out, Lua.
Me: Drew is giving me a ride.
Joe: There is a joke in there, but I know this is serious. Are you telling me that you are in the car with Drew Scott right now?
Me: Yes.
Joe: Are you okay?
Me: No.
Joe: How did this happen, Sweets?
Me: I was crying.
Joe: And you called him?
Me: NO!
Joe: Need more details, Spidey sense currently out of order.
I smiled.
Me: I was outside on a bench and he saw me crying and he offered to give me his car. But I couldn’t take his car. That would have been weird. Weirder, too big a favor.
Joe: Are you just driving along in silence then?
Me: Yes.
Joe: Maybe not weirder. Just maybe.
Me: LOL. Only not actually out loud.
Joe: Do you want to talk to him?
Me: No.
Joe: I’m so going to go wait at your house, so I get to see him. Also, you can talk to him, Lu. He’s not a virus that’s going to infect you. Talk about politics. You’ll hate each other by the time you get here.
But I knew the truth, politics didn’t keep us apart anymore.
Me: #flippingyouthebird
Joe: #youloveme
Me: #Ihateyou
Joe: #youwantmybody
Me: #idrathereatpuke
Joe: #mypuke
That time I did laugh out loud. I glanced quickly at Drew and on a smile, he quietly said,
“Joe.”
I hated and loved that he knew me so well. Also, he had such beautiful hair. For a second, I let myself remember what it felt like in my fingers. Then I turned and looked out the window again.
37
Drew
The storm was legit, and the visibility was shit. It was after four by the time we left Hamilton, and it was snowing. An hour and a half later we were driving in a full whiteout situation, and then it was dark. I wasn’t unfamiliar with whiteout driving, but it’s not fun, especially at night. The world takes on this eerie pink glow. I’m not sure if it’s from people’s brake lights or if it’s just one of those unexplainable things about modern life, but either way I think nighttime whiteout driving should be called mauve-out driving. And the thing is, dark-pink skies feel ominous. If you’ve never seen this, it’s hard to explain. But a mauve-out sky isn’t bright and joy-filled like a Florida sunset. It’s spooky and desolate, like an expedition to Mars.
I told myself we would be fine. My car was well suited to the conditions. I was experienced enough, and a competent driver. But for the first time ever, I was scared because Lua was in my car. Kind, funny, sexy, Lua mattered. If it was just me, I don’t think I would have felt scared. I might have projected some notion that I was headed for catastrophe, because once again that’s the tone of the aforementioned mauve-out. But I wouldn’t have been scared the world could lose me, and I was super aware that I viewed Lua as precious cargo but not myself. I wondered if that was changing, if someday my mortality would be enough to inspire my worry. Maybe to truly worry about yourself you have to feel like other people truly worry about you, which they might be, but until recently it didn’t occur to me that they were.
We were getting close to Lua’s house, but the trip had taken longer than I expected because the driving was slow. I wasn’t going to complain about extra minutes with Lua by my side. Admittedly, it was not a very social drive. Lua hadn’t said much of anything. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she’d completely forgotten I was in the car with her. In the beginning of the trip, she’d played on her phone and texted with Joe, and then after about an hour she curled up against the doorframe and conked out. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to talk to me. I was still happy to be near her.
It had been so long since we were in the same room for any amount of time that I felt like I could start to forget all the little details that made Lua, Lua. The way she brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. The way Joe made her laugh and smile even when she was sad, pressured, or uncomfortable. The way her brows pinched together when she was anxious. I wanted to hold tight to all the little details. Maybe because recognizing all the little bits, the tiny patterns, made me feel like I knew her, like our intimacy was real.
I’d never really seen her sleep before. Being near her when she was like that felt private, like a secret. I was learning something new. How the contours of her face changed when she relaxed and how her breathing deepened and grew strong, not loud or snore-y, just rhythmic. Her mouth hung open and reminded me of an old man I once sat next to on a plane, but even that felt sweet. I also felt creepy, like I was a spy in love with his target. I felt I was invading her space, like there should be a screen or a guard between us to protect her from my need to look, to just devour her with my desperate perusal. I tried not to think about how much I wanted to sleep next to her, to feel her deep rhythmic breathing flush against my chest as I cocooned my body around hers. I would have that. Someday, she would laugh with me again. I would earn the right to spend the hours in bed loving her, laughing, and all wrapped up together. Someday, this blip in time, when I was working at being more, would be faded and forgotten.
I let her sleep until I got within meters of the entrance to the thrive. I didn’t know what to expect. Was there a gate? Or a person who would need to hear from her that I was welcome to drive her in? I also wanted to be clear that she wanted me to drive her to her door. I wanted her to dictate the rules. Our boundaries and where they fell were currently hers to negotiate. I also needed to ask her where I should go to find a motel. I felt weird about it, about asking her, but my phone service had been spotty, and I knew I wasn’t going to drive back that night. Honestly, the driving was dangerous. There was no reason I should brave it, and going back without her felt too lonely.
I pulled over on the shoulder of the road and put the car in park. I hesitated for a minute, not knowing the best way to wake her. She looked so incredibly peaceful, sleeping in my car at arm’s length from me. The old me would have just driven away. Taken her somewhere and tried to seduce her into seeing everything my way, but since I met her and started working at S.A.F.E., the tactics and manipulations of old me felt awfully coercive, and maybe even abusive. They were volatile and manipulative, and predicated on the idea that my way, my desire mattered more than someone else’s feelings. That was the senator’s way. And he was the last person I ever wanted to be, so even though I wanted to drive away, to kidnap her, or kiss her awake, I considered her feelings and knew she wanted none of that.
“Lua,” I said quietly, and then louder, “Lua, we’re here.” She stirred a bit but still didn’t really wake. I reached over and gently touched her shoulder. “Lua, wake up.”
Still not fully awake, she said, “So tired.”
“We’re here, Lua, but I’m not sure where you want me to go now.” I softly shook her again.
Suddenly, truly coming to, she startled and jumped away from my hand like it was boiling hot. “What are you doing?” she spat.
I stayed calm. Old me would have turtled in anger, but I stayed calm. “You fell asleep. We’re here, just a ways from the entrance to the thrive, and at this point I needed some direction.”
She rubbed her hands over her face, and then apologized. “Sorry, you just startled me.”
I held my hands up, signaling no defense or apology needed. Then I smiled; it was dark in the car, but she could see me. “Where to from here?”
“My house?” she sort of offered and questioned at the same time, like she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Then the rambling nerves started talking. “Joe is there and my dad. That might be weird. Is that weird? I mean this was weird, this whole driving me home when we don’t talk anymore. But…”
“It’s not weird. I wanted to drive you,” I offered, happy that I still made her nervous.
“Okay. It’s… through the entrance, there’s a gate, a fence, then a left, and straight down the road till the end.”
I nodded. Put the car in drive and followed her directions. Even in the dark I could tell that the thrive was not exactly what I suspected. Sure, there were some houses that looked like hobbits might live in them, but basically it was just homes. There were also other buildings; each had a sign in front of it that I read silently as my headlights crossed over the letters: stable, barn, community center.
I could see Lua’s excitement surging as we got closer to her house. She was literally bouncing in her seat. She pointed to a space on the left-hand side of the road. “You can pull up there.”
Even despite the snow, gravel crackled under the tires as I pulled off the road. I put the car in park. I wondered if she was just going to jump out, but I should have known better. Lua is nothing if not genuine and by driving her home, I had done her a solid.
“I needed this,” she said, looking out the windshield at her front door. “I needed to be home today. Not tomorrow or later in the week, but today. And you came through for me.”
She paused long enough that I felt like I needed to speak. I looked down at my hands when I said, “It was nothing, really.”
“Don’t do that. I 'm telling you. It was something to me.” She paused again, and I stayed quiet. She was struggling. I could feel it. “It doesn’t…”
I interrupted her. “Stop.” She didn’t have to tell me that the status of our relationship was the same. “I know where we are, Lua. I’m not asking for anything else now. When you’re ready, I�
��ll be here.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d made her mad or sad or fearful, but her voice shook as she said, “What? What do you mean?”
I wasn’t sure what wasn’t clear. “I’ll be here. That’s all I’m saying. When you’re ready.”
Now she was angry. “Drew, I’m not gonna get ready. That’s the point. We don’t fit. We won’t. We can’t change that.”
I stayed calm. “I can. And I will, whatever it takes.”
She just looked at me. Hard, like she was telling me to fuck off with her eyes. Then she shook her head and huffed, “Thank you for the ride.” She popped open the door and hopped out. I did the same. I grabbed her bag from the back seat and walked around the car to hand it to her. There wasn’t something magical I could say. I searched my brain for the right words, but they didn’t exist.
Behind me there was the squeak of a thrown-open door and then a clatter and a howl. “Fucking sight for sore eyes, Cakes!”
I turned to find a toothy smiling Joe. He was significantly underdressed for the snow in jeans, a black t-shirt, and bright-pink rubber boots. I glanced back at Lua. Her glee was immediate. Whatever, I slogged up; he squelched back into place. She was smiling, squealing, and then she was running, skidding in the fresh snow as she plowed toward him. He caught her in his arms, and I remembered them together at Bonnaroo. I remembered how jealous I felt, and now all I could think was it was a relief to see her joy. I thought her continued heartache kept us linked, but maybe I was just a rock, tied around her ankle, dragging her toward drowning.
