by Rob Loveless
“Andrew’s going to spend Christmas with us too,” she informed him.
“They’re going to be with us the whole week before Christmas,” their mother added cheerfully while Cal gave his father a handshake and a pat on the shoulder. “Since they have a couple weeks off for winter break, they thought it would be nice to stay here and spend some time with the family.”
“What?” Cal said.
“Ow!” his father exclaimed and then laughed. “That’s some handshake you’ve got there, son. Is that how you lock potential clients into a gym membership?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Cal apologized as he released his father’s hand. “Well, that’s…great. Andrew’s going to be here. That will be fun. That will be fun.”
“Cal, you should try to take some time off that week and come over,” his mother suggested.
“I wish I could, but this is my busy season,” he reasoned. “A lot of people want to start their New Year’s resolutions early.”
“Oh, okay,” she replied, sounding discouraged.
“Well, I’ll see you guys soon though,” Cal said as he began to walk out the door, feeling a bit guilty for his mother’s disappointment.
“Wait, I think Andrew’s upstairs using the bathroom,” Claire said. “Don’t you want to say goodbye?”
“You know, I really don’t—can’t,” Cal stammered as he walked to his car. “I’m in a big rush, but I’ll see him at Christmas. It will be fun! See ya!”
Cal started his car and allowed the engine to warm up while he brushed the snow off the clunky vehicle. Once it was clear, Cal backed out of his parents’ driveway and then cruised down the street, being mindful of the roads, which were well treated.
A few miles down the road, Cal stopped at a traffic light and shuffled through his car’s center console to search for a CD. He wanted to listen to something edgy and angry to help ease his own frustration, but he couldn’t find any of his rock albums. Instead, he withdrew his secret guilty pleasure—a Céline Dion Greatest Hits CD—and inserted the disc.
The stoplight turned green and Cal pressed the gas pedal, eager to get back to his apartment. Bittersweet violin strings began to resound through the car’s speakers, soon accompanied by a gentle voice singing heartfelt lyrics. As the song continued, Cal was overcome with emotion while he pictured Andrew and Claire together, and he grew nauseous. As the powerful chorus commenced, Cal turned the volume up and began to sing along softly. Despite his greatest efforts to bury his sorrow, a single tear formed in his eye before it trickled down his cheek.
“What the fuck is this?” he exclaimed to himself as he wiped the tear away. Then, he was struck by a fit of borderline maniacal laughter. “I’m crying? I’m so pathetic.”
The music continued for the remainder of Cal’s drive home. When he arrived, he grabbed the CD from the car, headed into his cozy apartment, and changed into his pajamas. He had lied to his mother and didn’t have anything to do at home. He’d just been longing to escape the melancholy.
Cal popped the Céline Dion disk into his CD player and then retrieved a bottle of wine from the fridge. Without needing a glass, Cal took a large gulp and then eased himself onto his couch. He had been through the worst heartbreak of his life three and a half years ago, and he had never gotten over Andrew, but now his former lover was with his baby sister. Cal shook his head in response to the ridiculousness of the situation and took another swig of wine.
Despite how hard he had tried to fight it, seeing Andrew had reignited the repressed feelings Cal still had for him—even after all those years—and he was just as distraught as he had been during the four months of their on again/off again college fling. Cal reflected on his bittersweet memories of Andrew as he continued to drink from the bottle of wine. Once it ran dry, Cal stumbled into the kitchen to retrieve another. He then plopped himself back on the couch and began sipping on the new bottle until he drank himself into a stupor.
Chapter Six
Despite the drowsing effect of the wine, Cal tossed and turned throughout the night, and by three o’clock that morning, he was wide awake—and still marginally drunk. Cal did not need to open the gym for another two and a half hours, but decided to head into work early since he couldn’t sleep. Disoriented and dizzy from the previous night’s binge, Cal opted to walk to work instead of driving. Wearing a pair of navy jogger pants, a black polyester hoodie, and a pair of worn training shoes, he stepped out into the cold morning air and began to stroll through the town.
The temperature was in the single digits at least—potentially below zero degrees—and a light dusting of snow coated the deserted roads while flurries continued to swirl in the moonlit sky. However, Cal was numb and ignored the frigid weather as the vapors of his breath floated aimlessly through the air. Despite still feeling tipsy, his mind was at ease and empty of any negative thoughts regarding Andrew as he walked through the tranquil silence of early morning.
When Cal arrived at the gym about twenty minutes later, he had little feeling left in his icy hands, but nevertheless remained cheery. He retrieved a set of keys from his pocket and then struggled to unlock the door with his frozen digits for a brief moment. Cal pushed the door open and slipped into the gym as the winter chill began growing painful in his bones while he sobered up a bit.
He traipsed over to his office in the back and tossed his keys and hoodie on the tidy desk. Cal grabbed his iPod from the office and then made his way back to the front desk, where he plugged it into the gym’s music console and played his own choice of music, as opposed to the current pop hits the gym typically played. Electric guitars and a heavy drum rhythm pulsed through the speakers before the raspy voice of Joan Jett harmonized with the beat.
Cal nodded his head with the tempo as he stepped over to an empty rack and began loading the bar with various weight plates. Then, he lay on the cushioned bench, lifted the loaded bar off the handles, and lowered it to his chest before pressing the weight back up. He continued to perform bench presses, with each rep becoming sturdier and smoother. After several polished lifts, Cal completed the first set. He sat up and granted himself about a minute or so for a quick rest and then lay back on the bench to perform another set. Cal noticed his form was now much cleaner than it had been and was also surprised to discover how great he felt. His current state of slight grogginess left him serenely numb, which allowed him to power through his workout without getting fatigued.
After fifty minutes of various chest exercises, Cal decided to finish his workout with some cardio. He walked over to an empty row of cardio machines and stepped on a treadmill. Cal began jogging at a moderate pace and was once again amazed by his running performance; his breathing was steady; his legs were not at all sore, and he had barely broken a sweat. Cal increased the treadmill’s speed by several levels and adjusted his pace to keep up with the machine. He was energized, and it seemed as if his stamina could not be depleted.
However, after about ten minutes of sprinting, Cal lost focus and his mind began to wander, becoming aware of every movement within his body: the slight churning in his stomach, the few beads of sweat trickling down his cool forehead, the tightness in his legs, the exhausted heartbeats pounding in his chest, and his wheezing gasps for air.
The welcoming numbness from the previous night’s drinking binge had now worn off, leaving Cal susceptible to emotional and physical pain and weakness. His body was chilled, and he began to tremble from fatigue. He might be suffering from a panic attack, like the one he had experienced years ago after moving into his post-college apartment. He had been so alone and isolated then, feeling vulnerable and broken from his abysmal final semester. How different would his life have been if he had never met Andrew then? Would he have had better success in finding a meaningful connection with someone else? Would he have been happy for Claire when she brought Andrew home?
Caught up in his tiring ruminations, Cal’s foot slipped on the treadmill, and he lost his balance. He fell backward and landed on his buttoc
ks as the belt of the treadmill continued to race. Cal attempted to grab the machine’s handrails as he fell, but it was futile and the speeding treadmill propelled Cal down its track before launching him off the machine. He collided headfirst into the wall behind him, and his vision began fading out to black.
“Cal?” a worried voice called out.
He moaned in response and opened his eyes as a blurry figure came into view. He gazed around in confusion until a dull ache in the back of his head reminded Cal of his fall. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes to discover Sophie standing over him.
“Cal, what happened?” she asked. “How long have you been here?”
“Ugh, what time is it?” Cal inquired feeling groggy.
“Whoa,” she remarked and recoiled as she covered her nose. “Have you been drinking?”
“Pssh, no,” he dismissed with a slight giggle. “Okay, maybe just a little.”
“How much is just a little?”
“Do you mean how much I drank last night or this weekend?”
“Oh jeez,” Sophie muttered under her breath before she helped Cal to his feet. “We’re supposed to be opening in twenty minutes. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Sophie led Cal across the empty gym and into the men’s locker room. Then, she strode over to one of the showers and began running the hot water. Meanwhile, Cal slumped against a row of metal lockers and rubbed his forehead, which now throbbed.
“Why are hangovers a thing?” he mumbled.
“I’m guessing this is about Andrew?” Sophie reasoned as she tested the heat of the shower water. Cal nodded and avoided making eye contact. “Are you okay to stand on your own? You’re not dizzy, right?”
“No, I’m not dizzy,” he replied.
“All right, well, you’re going to shower off and clean yourself up. Did you bring any clothes?”
“No, but I keep extras in my office.”
“Okay, then get in the shower. I’ll leave some clothes out for you, and then I’m going to run over to the bagel shop across the street and grab you something to eat. Sound good?”
Cal nodded gently and obeyed Sophie’s instructions. Once she had left the locker room, Cal stepped into the shower and began washing with the courtesy soap and shampoo provided by the gym. As he washed his hair, Cal discovered a slight bump had formed on the back of his head, and he winced at its painful touch. When he was finished showering, he stepped out into the cold locker room and discovered a semi wrinkled black polo shirt and khaki chinos, along with a pair of compression shorts and socks. Cal grabbed a clean towel, dried himself off, and then dressed with haste. Reality had begun to sink in as his headache lessened and he realized it had to be past the gym’s opening time.
As Cal exited the locker room, he glanced at the clock; it was almost six. He gazed around the gym, curious as to whether Sophie needed his help, and eyed several of the usual morning members who were working out. Upon a further sweep of the facility, he saw that it appeared to have already been prepared for opening. Cal furrowed his brow and then walked into his office and found a large cup of black coffee and a greasy breakfast sandwich waiting for him at his desk. Sophie was seated next to the desk, biting into a whole-grain bagel.
“Who opened the gym?” Cal wondered as he took a seat.
“I did,” Sophie replied before she took another bite of her breakfast.
“Oh, thanks.”
“No problem. I got you breakfast.”
“Thanks,” Cal said as he eyed the breakfast sandwich in suspicion. He wasn’t nauseous at all; in fact, he was a bit hungry. However, Cal kept himself on a healthy, regimented meal plan, which centered on foods low in fat and high in protein. He rarely indulged in fatty foods, and considering what he had eaten—and drank—that weekend, Cal did not wish to sabotage his diet any further. Instead, he grabbed the cup of coffee and took a large gulp of the bitter drink.
“Eat the sandwich,” Sophie instructed, sensing his apprehension and knowing how routine Cal could be with his eating.
“I can’t. It’ll ruin my abs—”
“Eat it,” she interjected.
“Fine,” Cal sighed. He rolled his eyes before taking an unwilling bite. As much as he hated to admit it, the greasy breakfast sandwich was delicious. The two sat in silence in Cal’s office for several minutes as they ate.
“I didn’t hear from you this weekend,” Sophie said in a gentle voice as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “How’d it go?”
“As well as could be expected,” Cal replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“That good, huh?”
“It was really embarrassing.”
“What happened?” Sophie inquired.
“Dinner was awful. My parents fawned over him, and I kept stammering like a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “And then I got snowed in.”
“You were snowed in?” she replied as her eyes widened in disbelief.
“For the entire weekend.”
“Oh, Cal,” Sophie said. “You were stuck at your parents’ all weekend?”
“With him.”
“So when did you get home?”
“Let’s see,” Cal recollected. “I left my parents’ around five last night, got home a little before six, opened a bottle of wine, got drunk, belted out Céline Dion, and then passed out a couple hours later.”
“You were singing Céline Dion songs?”
“No, I said a Céline Dion song…on repeat,” he clarified.
“My Heart Will Go On?” Sophie guessed.
“To Love You More.”
“Oh, jeez, this is bad,” she stated.
“You think?” Cal snapped.
“And this whole weekend at your parents, you just acted like you had never met before?”
“Yep. We both did,” Cal said. “Except, we kind of had a confrontation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was hungover Saturday morning.”
“Of course,” Sophie added. Cal shot her a look, warning her to give him a break.
“Anyway, I went to go downstairs to get breakfast, and Andrew came out of the bathroom after his shower. And we kind of bumped into each other in the hallway.”
“Was he naked?” Sophie blurted out. However, she noticed a glint of despair and longing in Cal’s bloodshot eyes, and she retracted her question “Sorry. Um, so, did you guys talk?”
Cal sighed as he recollected his conversation with Andrew and that weekend’s events, which he relayed to Sophie.
“Wow,” she replied, once Cal had finished. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“This is ridiculous,” Cal exclaimed. “In my head, I know what Andrew and I had was nothing, but those feelings I had for him never really went away. I mean, he’s…he’s just…just a…”
“A fuckboy?” Sophie offered.
“Exactly! He’s just a fuckboy,” he agreed in frustration. “Or at least I thought he was. But after our talk, I’m starting to wonder if I was playing the victim card.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve always put the blame on him, but what if it was my fault too? I was new to the whole dating thing back then, and I didn’t know what to do or say. All those times of silence between us, I was always too nervous to text Andrew first. What if he was too?”
“Cal, it’s dangerous to think like that. I mean, you’ve got to look at the entire situation between the two of you.”
“But, he said—”
“Cal, you had sex with him, and then he left the next morning, and you never heard from him again. Not until now.”
“I know,” Cal replied in defeat. His demeanor suggested he wanted to say something more, but he remained silent as he stared blankly at his half-eaten breakfast sandwich.
“I know you’ve never really gotten over him, and I want to see you happy,” Sophie began, “but I think too much has happened between you and Andrew for you guys to ever be together again. And even if you two did get back together
, I don’t think that would be good for you.”
“I know,” Cal repeated. He knew he and Andrew would never be together. All those years ago, when he had begun this love affair, Cal knew they would never be together. Now that his ex had ventured back into his life, all those feelings of desperate lust had resurfaced, and they were just as strong as ever. In fact, Cal felt transported back to that last semester of college when he had first fallen for Andrew, before being heartbroken. This time he was not back in Cal’s life as a potential crush, or an ex-lover; he was now Claire’s boyfriend. “But what do I do now that he’s with Claire?”
“I really don’t know,” Sophie said. “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like things are pretty serious between Andrew and Claire. I think if you told her, you would be putting her in an awkward situation.”
“But now I’m the one in an awkward situation.”
“I know, but imagine if the tables were turned. How would you feel?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Cal reasoned. “But what am I supposed to do? Keep pretending that nothing happened between us?”
“Maybe.” Sophie shrugged, unsure as to what the appropriate course of action was.
“Trying to get over him…” he began in a shaky voice. A dry lump grew in Cal’s throat, and he swallowed hard as he stood and walked over to a nearby window. “Trying to get over him has been hard enough to do for the past several years—without him in my life.”
“I know. Believe me. I know,” Sophie said. She joined Cal over by the window and rubbed his arm comfortingly. “I know how hard this was on you then, and I’m sure this must be hard to deal with now. But you’re not the same person you were three and a half years ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were new to dating when you first met Andrew. I remember, back when you told me you were seeing him, you were always so nervous and self-conscious around him,” Sophie explained. “But, since then, I’ve seen you come into yourself. And you’re in the best shape of your life right now.”
“I guess so,” Cal mumbled, unwilling to find anything positive about himself.
