Animate Me

by Ruth Clampett

  “But I had needs you know. I loved her and wanted to be with her…really be with her. So I just kept asking and finally she gave in, agreeing to try making love.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” she says, smiling.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what I did wrong. I thought since we were in love it would be different than high school. But no matter how I touched her she didn’t react the way I expected…the way I’d seen in movies or read in books. She just laid there. And then when I tried to, you know, go inside of her, she said it hurt and she stopped me.”

  I realize that my hands are twisted together painfully, and I pull my fingers apart and flex them while sighing.

  “I cared about her so much. It took me weeks to get over that first time.”

  “That’s awful,” she says.

  “The next time I tried, I got us drinking first thinking it would relax her and the situation. Instead it just made her emotional. She started crying when I was only halfway inside of her.”

  “Damn,” she mutters.

  I nod. “You can imagine how I felt.”

  “So I started doing research on how to please a woman. I desperately needed to figure out what I was doing wrong. I was obsessed. It was like I was trying to crack a secret code. I put together an arsenal of techniques and a plan of seduction…and the only thing that seemed to work was…you know…” I can feel my face on fire.

  “When you went down on her?” She gently asks.

  I nod, and look down embarrassed. “She was crazy for that and I got really good at it.”

  “But what about you?” I can’t help but notice how sad Brooke looks, and my heart sinks even further.

  “I loved making her feel good so it wasn’t the end of the world. Sure I wanted more, much more, but what could I do? And that is when I finally just accepted that I just didn’t have it — that indefinable thing that men should have to make women want them.”

  But suddenly Brooke’s mood seems to shift, and she even looks a bit angry.

  “Why are you making this all about you? What you did or didn’t do? Did you ever consider that she was just frigid when it came to full on intercourse?”

  “Not really because she said she had a boyfriend in high school that really made her feel good. She made it clear it was me; whatever it was, I was lacking. Besides, my experiences hadn’t been good in high school either.”

  Brooke huffs and folds her arms over her chest. “Really? Maybe she was lying about the boyfriend. She could’ve made him up to cover for her issues. Did you consider that?”

  “No, Rachel wouldn’t do that to me. She loved me; I know she did. We stayed close even despite all that.”

  “Do you still see her?”

  “No, other than seeing her once last year; but we still talk. She took a job at Pixar and moved up North.”

  “Does she have a boyfriend now?”

  “Not that I know of, but that doesn’t prove anything. I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

  “You’re unreal, Nathan.” She shakes her head with disbelief. I can hear the martini drawl in her tone. “Maybe I should just sleep with you and show you what you’re capable of. You need to know what good sex is.”

  Oh, good God. My heart flip-flops at the idea of it. Yet, despite the absolute thrill and how much I want her, this isn’t how I would want it to happen for us. I need her to desire me…not have sex with me to help me.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea,” I ask carefully. “I mean, that’s really generous of you but are you sure you’d want to do that? I mean, you aren’t even attracted to me.”

  “How do you know that? Maybe I’m wildly attracted to you? Maybe I go to bed every night thinking about you that way.”

  Okay…it’s official. She’s really drunk.

  I know I’m beet red. No mirror is needed to confirm this. I’m also so painfully hard that I have to lean back in the booth and pivot my hips to adjust myself. “Brooke…” I stammer.

  “Okay, I’m sorry…I’m being crass. My point, poorly made, is that I want to help you. And if showing you how to have fun in bed helps you, I’d like to do that. I think you’re amazing, Nathan. I want you to understand how beautiful sex can be. I don’t want you to have all these negative images plaguing you. You aren’t ever going to be truly happy until you get past this.”

  Our waitress comes over with her hands on her hips. “Can I get you two some food? Looks like you could use it. Today’s special is prime rib with baked potatoes, how about that?”

  We both nod at the same time. When she leaves to put the order in, Brooke reaches over and rests her hand on my arm.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take this slow…one small step at a time. All right?”

  I nod, still completely confused about what I’ve signed up for. Am I getting a baked potato and Brooke in my bed? The whiskey must be playing with my head. I can’t even remember if I told her that I had lied about liking Dani, when all I want is her.

  After devouring our plates of food, and considerably more sober, we debate in the parking lot who should drive. She finally agrees to let me drive her car. Back at Sketch Republic the parking structure is empty except for my little red Mini-Cooper. I desperately don’t want to say goodnight yet. I never get enough of her.

  I am so done for.

  After I park her car next to mine we both get out and face each other. She steps closer, and I step back until I’m against my car.

  “Are you okay?” she reaches over and touches my wrist. It’s the lightest touch, like a butterfly brushing against me. Yet still, the spot burns hot and wild.

  “Shall we practice?” She steps closer still. There’s nowhere for me to go.

  “Practice?” I ask, my voice shaky.

  “Our kiss, just our kiss,” she whispers and a second later she is pressing up against me. When our lips connect my mind goes gloriously blank, forgetting the rules, the geometric optimal angle, just how incredible it feels when Brooke’s tongue is tangled with mine.

  Next thing I know my hand is in her hair and my hips are pressing into hers. Oh yeah.

  “See,” she whispers, in between gasps. “This is absolutely right…just as it should be.”

  I kiss her again, and again.

  “Can I touch you?” she whispers.

  I take a sharp breath. I can’t help it; I want it so much. I think I nod, but I’m not really sure.

  But next thing I know I feel her stroking me outside my pants.

  “Is this okay?” she looks up into my eyes.

  I swallow hard and nod.

  “Let me tell you…you feel so amazing, just right. Do you understand?” The look of lust she gives me sets me on fire. She tightens her fingers over me for a long moment before slowly removing her hand.

  My body is screaming for more, but I know we’re done. She’s pulling away. “That felt so good,” I whisper.

  “When you touch yourself later, remember how good that felt, okay?”

  I nod with a grin as she gets into her car and pulls away. She looks a bit flustered herself. Could she be feeling aroused too?

  As she passes through the lot gate I fight the urge to run after her like Superman, so I can pull my Lois out of the damn car and into my arms. But in reality I’m Clark Kent, bumbling and slow, and she’s just turned onto San Fernando Road and out of my sight.

  I quickly get in my car, anxious to get home and spread out across my bed. The vivid image of her hands on me, wrapped with her seductive words, echo in my head all the way home.

  Oh, I’ll remember all of this when I touch myself Brooke. Will you?

  Animate Me / Chapter Eight / Hearts Unfolding

  “You’re afraid to tell Wilma, aren’t you?” ~Barney Rubble to Fred Flintstonevii

  In Saturday’s sober morning light I replay what will forever be termed “The Smokehouse Fiasco” in my mind. The single picture that will accompany this memory is of horror-struck Brooke, with her mouth gaping open, after I’ve
revealed that I’m a sexual failure. I might as well have a flashing neon sign that says “loser” installed right over my forehead. The fact that she goes onto explain that she was raised in a sexually charged atmosphere only a few steps above a brothel didn’t help. She is a writhing, pulsing, sexual creature while I’m an amoeba whose cell hasn’t yet divided.

  Not only did I not explain the faux Dani romance as I’d intended, but I agreed to a pity fuck so Brooke can fulfill her community service hours for the romantically and sexually disenfranchised, of which I’m a fully vested member.

  I only crawl out of my cocoon long enough to grab a bowl of Captain Crunch. Then I go back to bed to eat and watch the Spongebob Squarepants marathon on Nickelodeon. The happy sponge in the little shorts is the only thing preventing me from falling into a funk. My phone rings just past noon and thanks to my curious nature, I surprise myself by answering it.

  “So Nathan, what the hell is up with our date tonight? I haven’t even heard from you.”

  “I’m sorry, Dani,” I moan.

  “If this deal is off, it’s fine with me. I just need to know cause I need to get out tonight one way or another, and the girls are going clubbing.”

  I can’t mess this up now. “How about a movie?”

  “You’re paying, right?”

  “Of course. I’m a gentleman.”

  “A gentleman, now that’s a novelty these days. Good for you. Keep that up cause I bet Brooke will get off on that too.”

  My head starts pounding. How will I ever keep this up? “So can I pick you up at seven? I ask. “We can eat something and then see a nine o’clock.”

  “Right-e-O,” she confirms.

  All in all it wasn’t a bad first date, despite the fact that it really wasn’t a date, the movie sucked and I spilled the popcorn. At least the Mexican food was good and Dani gave me the lowdown on the various love connections at Sketch Republic. Evidently there must be something in the air filtration system because lust sparks are flying all over the place, on every show. Leave it to me to be completely oblivious until it’s spelled out for me. Even loser Kevin is getting it on with Beatrice down in editing.

  At the end of the evening, when I walk Dani to her door, I start to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” She asks, confused.

  “Well, Brooke’s been teaching me how to kiss you goodnight for our first date. The irony of all of this is just too much.”

  She puts her hands on her hips defiantly. “Wait, you said minimal kissing and I thought it was only for PDA’s.”

  “Chill, I’m not kissing you.”

  “Why don’t you tell Brooke that you chickened out and you need more training?”

  “I may just do that,” I tease her. If I am ever able to face her again, I groan inwardly. I reach out and give Dani a hug. “Thanks again for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. See you Monday.”

  • • •

  Curtis never shows up for tennis and brunch at the folks Sunday morning. When I call him he picks up his phone but I can hear Billie giggling in the background.

  “What’s up, Bro?”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Coming?”

  “To Mom and Dad’s—it’s brunch time.”

  “No shit, it’s Sunday already!” He appears to pull the phone away as his voice gets softer. “Baby, did you know it’s Sunday?” She squeals. In a million years I would have never imagined hearing Billie sound giddy like that. Curtis gets back on the line.

  “Hey Bro, will you tell Mom and Dad that I’m tied up and can’t make it.” More loud squeals from Billie. Holy shit, does she really have him tied up?

  I swallow hard. “Do you mean literally tied up?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he taunts. “Let’s just say that Billie thinks I’ve been naughty.”

  “Too much information!” I yell into the phone. “I’ll see you next week.”

  • • •

  Wary doesn’t begin to describe my mood Monday morning. Three times I pick up the phone to call in sick so that I don’t have to face Brooke yet, but I finally man up and head out the door. After all, I can’t avoid her forever.

  It helps that when I wander into the break room mid-morning to get more coffee that Dani and Genna are having a colorful conversation that totally takes my mind off my problems.

  “He was hot Dani, really I would do him without a second thought,” Genna says with wide eyes and a brisk head nod.

  “Really, that dude from Tangled?” Dani responds. “From the commercials he looked obnoxious.”

  “Yeah, but he grows on you. And he’s got the moves.” Genna sighs.

  I silently sigh too. Yeah, those animated leading men always got the moves.

  “Well, haven’t you ever seen a cartoon character you’d do?” I challenge Dani. I notice Nick at the back of the room trying to get a vending machine to work.

  She thinks for a moment. “I would say Tarzan. Yeah, most definitely.”

  “Oh yeah, he was hot,” Genna agrees.

  “What a body. And I’d finally get to see what was under that loin cloth.”

  I notice Nick is lingering, leaning against the vending machine eating his newly purchased granola bar.

  “So how about you Nathan?” Dani asks. “Who have you dreamed about, besides me of course.”

  Genna snickers, and Nick looks over.

  “I bet you liked that Jessica Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Am I right?” Dani asks.

  “Close,” I admit. “My favorite is Tex Avery’s Red Hot. Now that’s a body…and the way she moved. She was hand-drawn sex for sure.”

  “So you like the girls with the curves, some meat on their bones,” Genna says happily.

  “Yes, I do,” I say with conviction.

  “If only more guys felt that way,” Genna sighs. “I could eat more cupcakes.”

  “That girl in the movie Saturday was pretty lush,” Dani points out.

  “You guys saw a movie Saturday?” Genna asks surprised. I can feel Nick’s eyes on me but I refuse to look at him. I’m going to need to talk to him as soon as I figure out what to say.

  “Yeah, Nathan took me out on a date.” She says dramatically.

  We hear a rustle and all three of us turn to see Nick leaving the room.

  Fuck.

  Dani gives me a knowing look. I can’t tell if she’s happy or scared.

  Maybe I should go pick a fight with Joel now because clearly my life isn’t quite complicated enough, and he’s the only key person I haven’t offended this week. I lower my head and stumble back to my cube.

  Four twenty-five. I hold the warm cup in my hand with my marker poised in the air. What to draw? What to say?

  I finally settle on Hefty Smurf scratching his head confused, while his intended conquest, Smurfette’s head is peeking out from where she is hiding behind the Starbucks logo. I do the whole thing in a blue marker.

  I give myself a pep talk and slowly head upstairs, praying that Brooke is in a meeting. I approach Morgan’s desk warily, looking past her to see if Brooke is in her office. My stomach falls when I see that she is, but then a wave of relief hits me when I realize that she’s on the phone.

  Making a split-second decision, I set the drink in front of Morgan.

  “Hey, Morgan, I see that Brooke’s on the phone and I don’t want to interrupt her. Could you just give this to her.”

  She stands up and takes the drink. “Actually she told me to interrupt her when you came by.”

  “No, that’s okay. Don’t interrupt her,” I say as I take steps backwards, then turn to head towards the elevator. Of course this is one of those days where both cars are on the bottom floor and don’t appear to be going anywhere. I squint and look up, searching the halls for an exit or stairs sign.

  “Nathan?”

  I push my glasses up my nose and turn slowly to see Brooke standing with her hands on her hips. Her body language looks angry but her eyes look
sad.

  “Can you come with me please?”

  I nod and follow her silently. She’s wearing heels and one of those tight business-y skirts that showcases her magnificent bottom. The sway of her hips with each step hypnotizes me all the way back until I’m in a trance by the time we’re in her office with the door closed.

  She turns towards me. “Morgan said you practically threw my drink down and ran down the hall. What’s going on?”

  I want to cover my face with my hands, but I can’t hide from Brooke. She doesn’t deserve that. I study the Iron Giant poster for a minute to think about what I can say.

  “I’m just so embarrassed, Brooke. You know things about me now that no one else knows. And as okay as it felt Friday when I was drunk, now I’m just horrified that I told you all of those really personal things.”

  “So you are horrified and don’t want to see me because I know you’ve had a disappointing sexual history?”

  She whispered the question but it’s like she’s screamed in my ear. I nod, muted from the weight of that sober confession.

  “Does that mean you don’t want to be friends anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” I look up and see her sad eyes are now veiled with hurt.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t be friends.” I admit. “It’s so unbalanced. You’re helping me and what do I do for you besides the computer stuff? What do I bring to the friendship? I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. It makes me feel like a bigger loser than I already am.”

  “You’re not a loser, Nathan,” she insists, but I can hear the defeat in her voice. She lets out a long sigh and sinks into her desk chair before putting her face in her hands and leaning forward over her desk. “I knew this would happen,” she mumbles.

  I notice a sophisticated arrangement of flowers on her desk. All kinds of fancy flowers: roses, lilies, stuff that girls like…stuff that I would’ve never given Brooke. My heart shrinks a bit more and I know I can never compete for her with guys like Arnold.

  “Are those from Arnold?”

  I notice the corners of her mouth turn up slightly when she hears me use his real name. She nods, silently watching me.