The Revelation

by Lauren Rowe

  “Oh.” Jonas’ grin broadens. “Yeah. I told her.” I can tell he’s blushing, even in the moonlight.

  “First time ever saying it?”

  “Yeah.” His smile broadens yet again.

  “Did it freak you out to say it?”

  “Not in the slightest. It just felt good—really, really good.”

  I ponder that for a minute. “You were never tempted to say it before Sarah?”

  Jonas crinkles his nose like I’ve said something distasteful. “No.”

  “Not even to Amanda?”

  Jonas shrugs. “Well, I knew I was ‘supposed’ to say it to Amanda based on the passage of time—I knew she wanted me to say it to her. But, no, I was never even tempted. Did you ever say it to Emma?”

  I nod. “It took me three years, but yeah.”

  “Three years? Wow, and here I thought I was the emotionally stunted asshole of the two of us.”

  I shrug and sip my beer. “Not something to say lightly.”

  Jonas makes a sound that tells me he agrees with my statement. “Emma’s the only girl you’ve ever said it to?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “Damn. She hung in there for three fucking years, waiting for you to say it?”

  I shrug. “Yeah. But we had the whole long-distance thing, you know—three years wasn’t really three years if you add up the time we were actually in the same room.”

  “How’d it feel when you said it to her?” Jonas asks. “Did it feel good or did it freak you out?”

  “Both.”

  “Did she say it back?”

  “Yeah, she said it back—and for a brief moment in time, I felt kind of like, ‘Phew. That’s a relief. I’m normal.’” I shake my head. “But in retrospect, exchanging those words just lulled me into a false sense of security. Once I said them, I started thinking it was safe to say some other shit too—and, as I found out pretty damned quick, it wasn’t.”

  I can feel Jonas’ eyes on me, but he doesn’t speak.

  “As it turns out, saying the words doesn’t make the feelings real.” I pause. “It was like Emma was signing a software licensing agreement—she just scrolled to the bottom and pressed ‘I agree.’”

  Jonas makes a sympathetic sound.

  “In fact, come to think of it, Emma didn’t actually say the words back to me. She just said, ‘Me, too.’”

  “Ooph.”

  “Yeah.” I pause. “Ooph.”

  There’s a beat.

  “I thought I loved her—I really did,” I say. “But now that I’m watching you and Sarah, I realize I probably didn’t. I mean can you really love someone if they don’t love you back?”

  My question is rhetorical, but Jonas answers me, anyway. “I like to think I’d love Sarah even if she didn’t love me back. And yet I can’t imagine I would have been able to love her like I do if she didn’t love me. The way Sarah loves me makes me feel like it’s safe to love her all the way.”

  There’s another beat during which we both look out at the sprawling view of the river. This has to be the most unexpected conversation of my entire life.

  “Emma never looked at me the way Sarah looks at you, bro,” I say softly. “Not once.” My heart squeezes painfully in my chest at the admission. “Seeing you and Sarah together makes me realize Emma never loved me.”

  Jonas makes a sympathetic noise. “Then she wasn’t The One.”

  I swallow hard, swig my beer, and look out at the Hudson again. A light from some sort of boat is skimming slowly across the black water in the distance.

  “Josh, you’re better off,” Jonas says. “If a woman doesn’t look at you the way Sarah looks at me, then she’s not worthy of you.”

  I nod, but I don’t say anything. When the fuck did Jonas become the wise and powerful brother in this duo? The guy falls in love with the greatest girl in the world, and suddenly he’s some kind of love guru?

  “So, on a related topic,” Jonas says, “how’s it going with Kat?”

  A huge smile involuntarily bursts across my face at the mere mention of Kat’s name. “Good.”

  “You like her?”

  I bite my lip, but I can’t control the goofy grin that’s taken over my face. “Yeah, I like her. She’s a handful, though. Kinda crazy.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good, right?—you like crazy.”

  “I sure do.”

  Jonas chuckles.

  “Which is a good thing,” I say, “because she’s batshit crazy. And stubborn as shit. But she’s also super cool and sweet and funny and smoking hot, too. A handful, like I say.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “She’s the most fun I’ve ever had, if you know what I mean. Oh my God, the woman’s like a dude in the best possible way.” I snicker despite myself. “She doesn’t... hold back.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I didn’t even know a woman like Kat existed. She’s like a whole new species of freaky-ass fish that washes to shore after a nuclear disaster.”

  Jonas laughs.

  “That’s what I told her, actually. I told her she’s a freaky-ass fish.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  Jonas bursts out laughing. “Now there’s some Valentine’s Day bullshit if I ever heard it.” Oh, man, he’s laughing his ass off, which, in turn, makes me laugh, too. “You told her that? And here I thought I was the dumb Faraday twin,” Jonas says, still laughing.

  We laugh our asses off together for quite some time. Finally, Jonas wipes his eyes and takes a sip of his beer. “That’s hilarious, Josh.”

  “I’m a charming son of a bitch, what can I say?”

  Jonas shakes his head. “A woman like that, you better make sure you deliver what she expects—don’t fuck it up.”

  I shoot him a look that says he’s a moron. “I can’t fuck it up—I just told you, she’s like a dude. She’s a slam-dunk, every time. She’s amazing—a unicorn.”

  “Oh, ho, ho. That’s what you might think with a girl like that. Just be careful—a unicorn will lull you into a false sense of confidence. Don’t start getting lazy.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “If you don’t know then I can’t explain it to you.”

  “Try.”

  He sighs. “She’s really good at getting herself off, right?”

  I don’t reply. I’m a gentleman, after all.

  “So that means she doesn’t actually need you,” he continues. “You’re nothing but a luxury item to her—a Lamborghini, if you will. And as you of all people should know, no one buys a Lamborghini for basic transportation. They get the Lamborghini because they want all the stupid bells and whistles (and because they’re an idiot with their money).”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Jonas shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ a girl can get dissatisfied pretty damn quick with her ridiculously expensive Lamborghini if it doesn’t deliver everything that’s been promised in the brochure.”

  My heart is racing. I don’t know how it’s possible, but my idiot brother is actually making a shit-ton of sense.

  “So as your girl’s designated Lamborghini,” Jonas says, “you need to make it your sacred mission to give her everything she expects from a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.” He swigs his beer. “You gotta convince that woman she actually needs a goddamned Lamborghini.”

  Shit. He’s right. “So what do I need to do?” I ask.

  “You gotta be able to do stuff for her she can’t do for herself. Make her come so hard, she’s literally addicted to you.”

  “Oh, well, that I can do. Believe me, I know how to make a woman come hard.”

  “One way? Two ways?”

  “All ways. Fuck off.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Fuck you. I’m good.”

  “But are you great? Do you aspire to excellence every single time?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Do I aspire...? Just to be clear, we a
re talking about fucking, right? Or is this conversation about something completely different and I’ve been totally confused the whole time?”

  “Ah, grasshopper. Fucking is never just fucking.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “You said she’s a unicorn. I’m just saying you gotta bring your ‘A’ game every time with a unicorn. There are no free passes. You gotta study up—continuously improve your skills—keep ratcheting it up for her. You can never, ever just ‘wet your dick.’”

  I cringe. “Jonas.”

  He shrugs.

  There’s a beat.

  “Study up?” I finally ask.

  “A man catches himself a unicorn, then he best study up so he can feed her the right kind of unicorn-food.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Jonas rolls his eyes, pulls out his phone, and taps something out on it.

  I lean over, trying to get a glimpse of his screen. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m ordering some books for you. They’ll be at your house when you get home. Read ’em before you see Kat again. You’re welcome.”

  “Fuck you,” I say.

  “No, fuck her—with supreme devotion and expertly calibrated skill.” The light from his phone illuminates the huge grin on his face. “I know you think you’re the wise and powerful Faraday twin—and you are about most things—but about this one thing, I’m nothing short of godly. Just trust me.”

  “Whatever, bro,” I mumble. Of course, I’m beyond excited to read whatever books Jonas just sent to my house, but I’d never tell him that. “Hey, bro, can I ask you something?”

  “It’s called a G-spot,” Jonas says. “And it’s the key to the kingdom.”

  “Fuck you,” I say. “I know about the G-spot, fucktard. I’m not a moron.”

  “Of course, you do. Sorry to insult you. What’s your question?”

  “What I’m about to say has nothing to do with me doubting your connection with Sarah, okay? So don’t flip out on me. Just remain calm.”

  “I would never, ever flip out on you, Josh. I’m nothing if not an endless reservoir of calm contemplation.”

  We both laugh.

  “I’m just wondering...” I say. “Everything’s just been so fast for you two—”

  “A lot’s happened in a short amount of time—we’ve already lived through a lifetime’s worth of shit together.”

  “Oh, totally. I get that. I’m just wondering, you know...” I clear my throat. “How do you know?”

  “How do I know what? How to make her come? Read the books I sent you, dumbshit.” He laughs, but I don’t. He tilts his head, obviously realizing I’m asking him something in earnest. “How do I know I love her?” he asks.

  “No, not exactly. What I’m asking is different than that—bigger than that.” I bite my lip, thinking. “How do you know Sarah’s The One? How do you know she’s the last woman you ever wanna be with—the last woman you ever wanna sleep with for the rest of your whole fucking life? How do you know you can promise Sarah forever and one hundred percent mean it?”

  Jonas shrugs. “I just know. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”

  “But how are you so sure? What exactly do you feel about Sarah that makes you so sure you don’t just love her—because I totally get that—but that you also wanna spend the rest of your life with this one girl and not keep searching for some other girl who might be a teeny-tiny bit more perfect?”

  Jonas sips his beer slowly, apparently pondering the question. “When you find what you’re looking for, you know,” he finally says. “We’re the greatest love story ever told—our love is the wonder of the wise, the joy of the good, the amazement of the gods.”

  There’s an exceptionally long pause during which I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes. “Oh, well,” I say evenly. “That explains everything. Thanks.” I take a long swig of my beer and look out at the river. “That reminds me, I like your new ink. In English, I notice. That’s something new for you.”

  Jonas looks down at the tattoo newly inscribed on the outside of his left forearm and his platinum bracelet glints in the moonlight. “Thanks. Yeah, I wanted the whole world to be able to read my words and understand their meaning. It’s my declaration of love for Sarah. I’m shouting about my love for her from the top of the highest mountain.”

  I chuckle to myself. Oh man, Kat’s list of “prohibited” tattoos is the gift that just keeps on giving. “So you got a girlfriend tattoo, huh?” I say, trying to stifle my laughter. “So, so awesome, bro.”

  “Soon to be a wife tattoo,” Jonas says proudly, his excitement palpable. “Why are you laughing, motherfucker? What’s so funny?”

  “I’m not laughing at you, I swear to God. Kat’s got this stupid list of tattoos that she says are uncool or whatever. And girlfriend tattoos are on the list.”

  Jonas shrugs. “Like I’ve ever given two shits about being cool?” He swigs his beer, still looking out at the river. “And, anyway, it won’t be a girlfriend tattoo for much longer.” He’s obviously bursting with excitement about that last statement.

  “Hey, don’t feel bad about having a tattoo on Kat’s list—dragons and YOLO are on the list, too—both supremely uncool, it turns out,” I say.

  Jonas chuckles. “Well, I could have told you that.”

  “No, but get this: Kat came up with her list before she saw any of my tattoos.”

  Jonas bursts out laughing. “Really? Oh my God. That’s pretty funny.”

  “Yeah, Reed and I raked her over the coals pretty good the other night at dinner, along with this hip-hop guy signed to Reed’s label. Cool dude. You’d like him. He’s a deep thinker, just like you. Anyway, this rapper-dude had an ex-girlfriend tattoo and a dragon.” I laugh at the memory. “Kat looked like she was gonna hurl the whole dinner. So fucking funny. I think we made her pay for her sins pretty well.”

  “Wow, you should see your face when you’re talking about Kat,” Jonas says. “You really like her, huh?”

  I can’t hide my huge smile. “Yeah, bro, I like her a lot.” The image of Kat in her skimpy white tank top and G-string, her eyes drunk with arousal, and her hair tousled pops into my head. “So back to my question, bro,” I say. “Do you think you could, maybe, explain things in a way that’s not”—I grab his forearm roughly and read his brand new tattoo—“our ‘love is the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods’? I know it’s hard for you, Jonas, but can you just try to talk like a normal person, just once?”

  Jonas swigs his beer, apparently thinking. “Okay, how about this: Sarah’s holding my hand and leading me outside a dark cave toward the light that is the divine original form of myself.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, gee, thanks. That’s so much better.”

  Jonas laughs. “I was just fucking with you—although that’s all true, just to be clear.” He laughs to himself for a good long minute. “Okay. The bottom line is that I’d rather be with Sarah than anywhere else in the world. I’d go to fucking IKEA with her if it meant being with her.”

  My skin suddenly erupts with goose bumps. “Wish you were here,” Kat’s napkin said—and what thought popped into my head when I saw it? “So do I.”

  Jonas exhales loudly. “It’s just so easy with Sarah. I’m completely myself with her, you know? I never have to worry I’m saying the wrong thing. I’ve shown her everything—good, bad, ugly, silly, crazy, creepy—and she accepts it all. And she’s kind. And nonjudgmental.” He sighs happily. “And so smart.”

  “So you told her everything?” I ask.

  “Everything. Absolutely nothing left out. And, hey, that’s reason enough right there to marry the girl. I only wanna do that shit once, man. Baring your entire soul to another person is fucking exhausting.”

  All of a sudden, I’m thinking about how Kat led me into her bed after reading my application and then fell asleep in my arms.

  “I dunno, Josh—I just know,” Jonas contin
ues. “It’s really not all that complicated. For once in my life, it’s not about what I think—it’s about what I feel. I’ll never want anyone besides Sarah, ever, ’til the end of time, and I’m sure of it. It’s literally impossible for me to want someone else. Sarah’s the divine original form of woman-ness. She’s the ideal form of beauty—the pinnacle of perfection that all other women aspire to—the goddess and the muse—so what the fuck else could I possibly want?”

  “Shit, I was totally with you until that last bit. ‘The goddess and muse,’ Jonas? Come on, man. What does that shit even mean?”

  He shrugs. “If you don’t understand it, then I can’t explain it to you.”

  “Jonas,” I say, “I’m serious, man. Please, just break it down for me. If you had to pick one thing that makes you know for sure Sarah’s The One, what would it be? Not ‘goddess and muse’ shit, but, like, something tangible? Something concrete?”

  “I can’t pick only one thing. It’d be impossible.”

  I continue to look at him earnestly.

  “But, okay, I’ll try my best to dumb it down for you, Josh-Faraday style.”

  “Thank you. Not everyone’s a fucking genius about relationships like the wise and powerful Jonas Faraday.”

  Jonas smiles and his eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “Sarah Cruz, the goddess and the muse”—he flashes me a snarky look—“makes me laugh like no other woman ever has—like no other person ever has, even you. She laughs at almost all of my jokes, even the really lame ones—and she’s being totally sincere when she does.” He smiles and his white teeth gleam in the moonlight. “Looking at that woman gives me a boner the size of the Space Needle, even when she’s just sitting there reading one of her law books and scrunching up her nose.” I can see his face suddenly light up, even in the dim light. “And on top of all that, sex with her is akin to a religious experience.” He lets out a happy sigh. “If a guy needs more than all that to be eternally happy with one woman, then he’s either crazier than me or just a greedy-ass motherfucker.”

  As if on cue, the door behind us opens and Sarah appears.

  “Hey, boys,” Sarah says.

  “Hi, baby.”

  “Hi, Sarah Cruz,” I say.

  “Hola, Josh Faraday.”