Touch

by Sarah White

  He crosses his arms and looks down at the floor. His eyes look sad when he finally looks into mine.

  “Is that what you want, Leah?”

  Why isn’t he telling me about the woman from the café? “I don’t know anymore.” I sip from my wine and look away to gather my thoughts. It feels like his eyes could pierce through me and see straight into my soul. “Until recently it was.” I laugh without humor and shake my head, “What if you’re right? What if I’m just prolonging what’s inevitable? Maybe we’ll have another year, maybe two. But in the end will I wish I’d spent the time getting over him instead of trying to make it work?”

  Noah reaches for his wine and takes a drink. Walking over to me he sets it down and then pulls me into his arms. I’m still hurt by what I saw today, but he’s my best friend and I need to be comforted. “You won’t know unless you try. Maybe I’ve been looking at relationships all wrong. I’ve been focused on the end and not the in-between. Maybe those years you have with him will be the best years of your life. The end doesn’t mean the time together was any less valuable.” He pulls back so that he can look me in the eyes. His hands slide down my arms before falling to his sides.

  Hearing him say those words hurts all over again. This isn’t the pessimistic view I’m used to and I can’t help but be jealous that the woman from the café might have helped him change his mind. I look deep into his eyes, searching for a hint about their relationship and his new found hope in love, but they give away nothing.

  “I don’t know if I can do this again. He was my world and he was able to just walk away. What’s to stop him from doing it again? I thought I really knew him but if he had been the guy I thought he was, he wouldn’t have done that to me. I’m not sure if I’m considering giving it another shot because I’m in love with him or because I haven’t yet been given the opportunity to try hard at reconciling.”

  Noah’s smile is empathetic and warm. “I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that. Only you can figure it out.” I close my eyes and take a big breath but it does nothing to relax the tightness in my chest. He kisses my forehead and walks back to the sink. The sound of the water fills the room as he finishes washing the vegetables.

  “I thought you were supposed to tell me the answers. What kind of a psychologist are you, anyway?” I tease. He chuckles before shutting off the water and reaching for a cutting board and a knife.

  “A good one. We aren’t supposed to tell you the answers. Our job is to help you find your own. Imagine handing me a map and asking if you were going in the right direction. It’s not my job to show you which road to take, but I could help you see all the possible routes.” The sound of the knife slicing through the vegetables as he speaks is almost soothing in its methodical rhythm. “If you’re unhappy where you end up, I can help you figure out how you got there and where you might have had the opportunity to make a different turn.”

  “What happens if someone comes to you with a map but doesn’t even know where they are?” I hop off the counter and take out his usual frying pan, then take the butter out of the refrigerator and slice a few pieces into the pan. He isn’t far behind me with the veggies and we both laugh when we reach for the same mixing spoon.

  “Seriously Noah, what would you do then?” I beat him to the spoon and hold it up to him. His hand wraps around the handle and grazes mine as he gently tugs it from my grip.

  “I would tell that person to stop pretending they don’t know where they are. Being ignorant to where you are in your life doesn’t get you anywhere except more lost. Look all around yourself and at every part of who you are. The signs are everywhere; they’ve been there all along.”

  I say nothing as I release the spoon. He is absolutely right. Looking back I can see all of the signs. I just chose to pretend they weren’t there or that they meant something different. Now I wonder if he lives by the same advice.

  “So I guess you have your route all figured out,” I venture.

  He stirs the veggies and then turns around and rests against the counter. “I thought I did, but lately I’ve been thinking that maybe I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, either.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. His eyes meet mine again and he smiles. “Maybe it’s time to go exploring. Find a new route I’ve never traveled before and see where it takes me.” I love that idea and feel like begging him to take me along for the journey.

  “I think your study is messing with my mind, Noah. I used to be such a huge believer in love lasting forever, but now all I can see is the end. Lyle is coming this weekend and I should be happy about that—it’s what I’ve wanted. Now he wants to work things out and I’m not sure if there’s any space left in my heart for him.”

  Noah listens to me and considers his words carefully. “It sounds to me like you’ve already started healing, and you’re not sure you want to take a step back,” he says. He fills my glass again. It’s like having the perfect best friend, only I want his arms wrapped around me. I wish I could wash the image of him embracing that woman today from my thoughts.

  “But what if Lyle is my only shot?”

  Noah laughs. “Leah, I used to think there would never be room for anyone else with the ghost of my ex still living in my head, but I was wrong. I can’t tell you what to do about Lyle, but I promise you that you do not need to be afraid that someone else can’t love you. I’m willing to bet that it will happen one day without you even knowing it.” He takes his glass from the counter and raises it in a toast. I smile at his playfulness and raise mine to meet his. “To falling in love again,” he says as he clinks our glasses together. I take a big sip and close my eyes as I think to myself, if only he knew that I already have.

  Chapter 24

  Noah

  Dinner conversation is light as we compare notes on professors and Leah regales me with stories about the annoying girl who is in almost every one of her classes. It feels terrible holding back the information about running into Eva—I will tell her eventually, but I don’t feel like tonight is the right time to share that with her.

  It feels as if I’ve known her forever as we move together in the kitchen clearing the plates and pans. I am standing at the sink washing the dishes and she is beside me, drying, when her phone sounds from the living room, playing a song from the eighties. I stop what I’m doing to give her a funny look. “Is that Cyndi Lauper?” I ask, knowing very well that it is. She laughs as she puts down the dish towel and goes to answer the call.

  “I’m a little embarrassed you heard that,” she says when she returns a few moments later. “But obviously I’m not the only nerd, since you know who sings that song.” She sets her phone down on the counter beside her and I dry my hands and reach for it. She tries to steal it back but I dodge her and hold it high above my head.

  “Let’s see what other lost gems from the eighties you have on here…” I click the icon for music and her playlists pop up.

  “I have tons!” She smiles. “It was kind of a thing with my roommates. That’s who was calling. We used to get drunk and dance around our apartment.” Her smile turns wistful. “I know it sounds crazy, but I actually miss that. It was silly and ridiculous, but great for stress relief. Plus it helped my moves in case I’m ever in a jam and need to strip or something.” I can’t help but laugh. I tap the ‘Dance Party’ playlist and Salt-N-Pepa’s ”Push It,” starts up.

  “Great song, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone strip to it. All these years I’ve been fooled into believing that girls pillow-fighting and dancing in their underwear in the dorm rooms was a myth. Now you tell me it really happens?!” She takes the phone from my hand and turns up the volume.

  “I’m not sure about the pillow-fighting, but the rest of it TOTALLY happens!” She laughs and spins around in a cheesy dance move. She sets her phone down on the counter and grabs my hand, and I laugh as she pulls me into the center of the kitchen. I shake my head no, and she sticks her tongue out at me and begins to dance on her own.

>   I watch as she moves to the beat and can’t decide if it’s more fun or sexy. Maybe it’s the perfect mix of both, and that’s why I can’t take my eyes off of her as she mouths the words and dances like I’m not watching. I smile each time her eyes meet mine and even sway with her when she presses up against me and takes my hands, trying to lead me in the dance. I feel something close to disappointment when I hear the last verse because I don’t want this to end, but when it’s followed by the unmistakable piano intro to Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll,” I tip my head back and laugh out loud, remembering how I used to love that song as a kid.

  She grips my hands in hers, entwining our fingers together. “Come on, you have to dance with me!” she yells over the music. I nod my head in acceptance. She has no idea what she’s in for. This used to be a family favorite and I can’t even begin to guess how many times I danced to this in my childhood living room with my sisters. I push her away from me and then pull her back quickly. The surprised look on her face is priceless.

  I slide one arm behind her and twist her sideways, letting my hand run along her shoulder before curling her up in my arm. When I start to unravel us and she spins quickly away from me, a giggle bubbles up from her mouth and she flashes me a killer smile. This might be the most fun I have had in years.

  We kick our shoes off and spin around the kitchen, sliding along the smooth hardwood floor in our socks. Her eyes widen as I dip her back. She is laughing so hard I can’t help but laugh with her. I feel high, as if I could never reach a place where I could be happier.

  I spin her to face me and pull her tightly into my arms, letting the side of my face rest against hers as we sway in time with the music. One hand holds hers and the other is splayed out on her back. The soft curls of her hair brush against my arm and my heart swells with the intimacy of our embrace. I remember this feeling. It’s been years, but the way it feels when someone captures your heart is not a feeling you forget. I close my eyes and try to memorize the way she feels against me in case I’m not given this opportunity again.

  She hugs me tightly as the song ends. Her voice is flirtatious and musical as she asks breathlessly, “Where did you learn to dance like that?”

  “I have three older sisters, and I swear they must have played that song a million times when we were kids. I have every word burned into my memory.” I smile at the recollection. “They would spin me around the living room, and they’d always request it at weddings and family parties. They still do.”

  “It was a favorite of my parents, as well,” she responds. “No one ever danced to it like that with me, though. That was so much fun. Thank you!” She bounces up onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I needed that.” Her arms slide down mine until we are no longer touching and I miss her immediately, even though she’s standing right in front of me.

  “Me, too,” I answer. Her smile is angelic as she spins away from me and goes back to the dishes. There must be another song playing but I don’t even hear it over the sound of my own heartbeat. I don’t miss the irony of finding a girl that makes me want to stay, just as she is walking away.

  Chapter 25

  Leah

  I can’t keep the smile off of my face as I step out of the shower. Dancing with Noah tonight was so unexpected, but such a wonderful surprise. I loved the way it felt to move with him as he spun me around the kitchen. That’s how I imagine relationships should be: fun, playful and intimate. Did he feel the same way, I wonder, or was I just imagining the connection between us and the happiness I saw in his eyes?

  Using my towel, I wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror. I slip on my shorts and tank top and run a comb through my wet hair. The apartment is quiet on the other side of the door. I don’t know what’s happening between Noah and I, but I like it. I hope he’s not just having a little fun with me, but how do I ask without risking our friendship and scaring him away?

  I gather my stuff and leave the bathroom. When I step into the bedroom I can see his figure in the dark, lying in bed. The clean smell of soap and steam tells me he also just got out of a shower. I feel as if something has changed between us and it makes me nervous. And I still don’t know who that woman was from earlier—I definitely should not be sleeping in his bed if they have something going on.

  Not sure what to do, I hesitate at the edge of the bed. Noah rolls onto his side and props his head up on his elbow. He pulls back the covers on my side and pats the mattress. Screw it. I climb in, not wanting to waste any time I might have with him regardless of what he’s doing when I’m not around.

  He extends his arm, inviting me to lie on his chest.

  “My hair is wet. I don’t want to get your shirt soaked.” I rest my head on my pillow but Noah sits up in bed and pulls his shirt off over his head. He lies back down and extends his arm out to me again.

  “Now you won’t get my shirt wet.” I roll my eyes, but my stomach tightens with the knowledge that he wants me in his arms. I twist my wet hair back and rest my cheek against his smooth skin. His other arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close to him while his cheek rests on top of my head. I want to ask him who the woman was, but I’m afraid. I’m not afraid that he’ll lie; I’m afraid he will tell me the truth and it will kill me. If he is in some kind of relationship with her then what we have isn’t as special and unique as it feels to me.

  It’s pathetic, I know, but I don’t want to be replaced. I don’t want him to let me go as easily as he let go of Jen and who knows how many others. When I move out, I’d like to think I could still count on our friendship, that we could keep hanging out like we did tonight, and that he might even miss me being here.

  Noah breathes in deeply as if he’s about to say something. I wait, but instead he just pauses and lets the air go as if he has changed his mind.

  “What is it?” I ask, raising my head.

  “What? Oh, nothing,” he answers.

  “Are you sure?” I can’t see his features in the dark but I turn toward him and search his face anyway. I feel like I’m waiting to be sentenced.

  He tips his head back in thought. “Yeah, I’m sure. Let’s get some sleep.” His free hand glides down my wet hair and then he rests his flat palm against my ear, pulling me tightly against him in a hug as he lets his lips linger on the top of my head in a long, gentle kiss. When he loosens his hold and lets his cheek rest on top of my head again, I close my eyes and melt back into his arms. I’m not sure when it happens, but I drift off to sleep.

  * * *

  The persistent buzzing of my phone alarm wakes me and I find myself alone in Noah’s bed. I reach my hand out to his side to see if it’s still warm and find a note instead:

  I couldn’t sleep. Decided to get an early start. Tonight is our last night as roommates. I’m taking you out to dinner after your last class. Dress in something nice; there’s a great place I want to show you.

  —Noah

  I read the note a million times, loving the way his masculine writing is forever saved on this scrap of paper. Even if nothing ever comes of us, I’ll have this to remember a time when he was thinking of me.

  I jump up quickly and get ready for the day, feeling a buzz of excitement at the thought of going out with Noah this evening. My plan is to leave class a little early so that I can get ready back at my place. The thought of dressing up for him thrills me and I know that today is going to feel like the slowest day of my life. There’s no room in my thoughts for sadness. Tonight I am going to let my heart play with the man I love, and even if I never tell Noah how I feel about him, I will take something away from all of this.

  I’m sure now that I am strong enough to walk away from Lyle, knowing that our relationship could never compare to the connection I have with Noah. When I see Lyle tomorrow I will tell him that I have put him behind me. I will start my life without him so that one day when someone like Noah is ready to be in a relationship, I will be healed and available.

  I close his front door and use my key
to lock the deadbolt. I squeeze the key tightly in my hand, dreading the day that it won’t be mine anymore.

  Chapter 26

  Noah

  Spinning my coffee cup on the café table in front of me, I try to avoid looking my best friend and lab partner in the eye. I just told him how I feel about Leah. I needed to talk to someone about the situation and he’s the safest bet. I trust him to give me solid, honest advice instead of the crap my other friends feed me. “No relationship, bro. You have it made.” Or, “Just keep it casual. You’re too young to be serious.” I expel a frustrated breath as I think of all the shitty advice they have given me over the years.

  Jude takes a long sip from his coffee and then runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, man. Sounds like you waited too long. The way I see it, you have two options.” He holds one finger up to keep count. “You tell her how you feel and risk that she doesn’t feel the same way, or thinks you’re a total ass-hat for waiting so long to tell her, so she gets pissed and stays with her old boyfriend.” He subtly shakes his head no, and then lifts a second finger, “Or, you keep your mouth shut and let her figure out if her ex is the right guy for her. If you don’t think he is, then maybe it won’t work out and you just need to be patient.” He shrugs his shoulders and offers me an empathetic smile. “Either way, you’re fucked for now.” He picks up his scone and takes a bite.

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” I say, twisting my cup around again before taking a gulp. “What would you do?” I watch Jude’s eyes go wide.

  “Oh, no. I’m not falling for that. It’s up to you to make that choice, you know that. I don’t want you being pissed at me if what I tell you doesn’t work out.” He’s right and I lean back in my chair and think about what I’m going to do. His phone chimes from his pocket and he reads the screen. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. Let’s meet up again soon, maybe over beers next time, huh?” He stands up and grabs his empty cup to throw in the trash.