Bend Me, Break Me

by Cameron, Chelsea M.

  Unlike most students, she didn’t have anything on the walls. No pictures. No posters. No twinkle lights. Sadness permeated the room, or maybe that was just her. She was so, so sad.

  “It’s not much, but I don’t really get along with other people, so I didn’t want a roommate.” I already knew that, but I nodded anyway.

  I set the bags on her bed and started unpacking them as she watched me.

  “Something wrong?” I asked and she shook her head with small little jerks.

  “No. It’s just… you’re the first person who’s ever been in here. I mean, other than me.” I turned around slowly.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” she said, twisting her fingers together. One of her knuckles cracked.

  “Well, then I’m honored to be here.” I gave her a smile that she didn’t return, so I turned my attention back to the food.

  “Do you know how to use chopsticks?” I asked, handing her a set. I’d also brought forks, just in case.

  “Yes,” she said, taking them from me and sitting down. Her face got tight, like she was thinking about something else. A memory.

  “Cool, me too,” I said, holding up my own set.

  We sat, with the food between us in her quiet room, and ate.

  “You okay?” I asked, pulling her back from wherever she’d gone.

  “Yeah, fine. Just tired. How was the party?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, it was all fine and good until someone set a couch on fire. It went downhill after that, but to be honest it had been going downhill since the first keg got tapped.” Marty had a blast. He always did. One of those charismatic people who made you have a good time even when you didn’t want to, he was impossible not to like. I’d stuck by his side, trying to let myself have a good time, but I could only think about Ingrid. What she might be doing. What she might be thinking about. I hoped I crossed her mind.

  Her eyes went wide.

  “Someone set a couch on fire?” I nodded and laughed.

  “I can’t remember why, but whoever did it seemed to have a good reason at the time. I wasn’t drunk enough to agree with them.” She nodded.

  “So you didn’t have a good time?” I gave her a quick look, but she was staring at the sushi, as if deciding which piece she wanted next.

  “Not really. I mean, I guess it was fun to hang out with Marty, but other than that, not really. I mean, I like football and baseball as much as the next person, but I don’t feel the need to discuss it ad nauseam.” Other topics included past parties, the ideal shape of a boob and whether or not lesbians were virgins if they’d never had sex with a man. Riveting.

  “So it was a lot of guys there?” I finally understood what her line of questioning was leading to. She wanted to know if I’d hung out with any other girls last night.

  She was jealous and it made me want to smile more than I’d ever smiled in my life.

  “Mostly. It was at one of the frat houses, but yeah, there were girls there. They mostly pay attention to Marty when I’m with him. I didn’t really talk to anyone.” I watched her face as I answered and she relaxed just a fraction.

  “Oh, okay.” I decided to push my luck.

  “I didn’t hook up with anyone, if that’s what you’re driving at. I wished you were there, though.” Her eyes flashed up and she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, of course. I always want to hang out with you.” I had to be careful to reel it in again so I didn’t scare her off. Baby steps.

  “I can’t figure out why,” she said, but she was blushing.

  “Because you’re you. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you?”

  THERE. THERE IT IS. She let it happen. A tiny little smile accompanied by a deeper blush.

  And then she rolled her eyes at me and I nearly lost it.

  “You’re so weird.”

  “Thank you. I take that as a compliment.” I held up my chopsticks and she tapped hers against mine. She was still smiling a little and it was worth it. It was so worth it.

  We finished the sushi and started on the cupcakes and we just… talked. Ingrid was more unguarded than I’d ever seen her. Maybe because she was in her own room, her own space. Whatever it was, I couldn’t get enough of it.

  She told me about being vegan and why her favorite movie was Amelie and that she hated it when her foods touched on her plate.

  I told her that I’d had a brief relationship with skateboarding that had left me with a scar under my chin, and she asked about the one on my eyebrow.

  “That? Oh, my brother did that one. Little shit. We were doing a swordfight with box cutters and he got me.” I rubbed the scar and shook my head.

  “You have a brother?” Her voice was choked and I realized what I’d done.

  “Yeah. He’s sixteen.” She nodded, but I could see her hands shook. I gathered up the trash and threw it away so she could compose herself.

  “Want to watch a movie or do homework?” I asked and she nodded.

  “Which one?” I said and she finally met my eyes.

  “Movie.” I got the remote from the top of her TV and handed it to her. Our fingers brushed and I shivered with the contact. I was usually so careful not to touch her so she wouldn’t skitter away, especially since the kiss disaster. The almost-kiss disaster.

  She flicked through channels and finally settled on one of the classic movie channels that was playing something in black and white. I hadn’t seen a lot of old movies, but I had the feeling she’d watched plenty.

  “What movie is this?” I asked. There was less space between us now and if I just scooted over a little, our shoulders would touch. I didn’t even twitch a finger.

  “His Girl Friday,” she said. I’d heard of it, but had never watched it.

  “Shit, they talk really fast,” I said after a few minutes of viewing.

  “Yeah. And Cary Grant was so young. I love him.” She sighed.

  “So you’re saying that if I gelled my hair like that, wore a suit and smoked like a chimney, you’d like me better?” I asked, looking at her and not the screen.

  I was rewarded by another blush.

  “You’re fine the way you are,” she mumbled.

  “Wait, what was that?” I cupped my hand around my ear and leaned toward her.

  “Shut up, you know what I said.”

  “No, I didn’t. Tell me again.” She rolled her eyes again and shoved my shoulder.

  “Stop it.” I laughed and she turned to look at me.

  “You suck.”

  “Only on days that end in Y,” I said. She was flirting with me. She was totally flirting with me.

  “Whatever.” She smiled for real so I crossed my eyes at her and she laughed. Just let go and laughed. It was the most beautiful fucking sound in the entire world.

  “See? You do like it when I tease you.” She pressed her lips together, but the laughs kept bubbling out. She couldn’t help it.

  “You’re terrible,” she said.

  “Only on days that end in Y,” I said again.

  She made a frustrated sound and buried her head in one of her pillows. I leaned over and tapped her shoulder. She turned her head and our faces were only inches apart. Her chest heaved a little and I was having trouble swallowing. Or breathing. Or blinking.

  Her hair was in her face, so I reached forward to brush a few strands back. She didn’t move away or tell me to stop, so I stroked back some more of her hair.

  She was looking at my lips. I looked down at hers.

  And then…

  I didn’t know who made the first move, but suddenly the lips I’d been looking at were kissing mine.

  Ingrid was kissing me.

  Her mouth was soft and hard at the same time. It was the most basic kind of kiss, but it was so much more than that. This kiss was everything.

  And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

  “Oh my God,” she said, scrambling to get away from me. I sat up a
nd moved, giving her space.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I should be apologizing.

  “Oh my God, oh my God,” she said, burying her face into her pillow again. I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood up and waited.

  “I’m sorry?” I said again.

  She lifted her head up and looked at me.

  “If you want me to leave, I’ll go,” I said, picking up my bag.

  “No,” she said in a whisper so low, I thought I might have hallucinated it.

  “No?” I asked.

  “No,” she said again. She didn’t want me to leave. We kissed and she wasn’t going to throw me out of her room.

  She sat up fully.

  “No, I don’t want you to go.”

  “Okay. I won’t go.” I set my bag down again, knowing that this was one of those moments. One of those moments in life when everything had the potential to change. I didn’t know if she could feel it, but I could. My heart started beating wildly.

  Ingrid slid off her bed and got to her feet, taking three steps toward me. My lungs stuttered as she looked up at me.

  She raised one hand and pushed my hair out of my eyes.

  “Your hair is always in your face,” she said. Or at least that was what I thought she said. I was pretty sure I’d just fallen into an alternate universe. Or maybe I was dreaming.

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but watch her as her fingers tangled in my hair.

  I had no idea what I was doing. The more rational part of my brain was screaming at me to run. Out of this room. Away from him. I was currently ignoring it.

  I didn’t know what strange force brought his mouth to mine, but it had happened. We kissed and it was…

  Monumental.

  Brief.

  Far, far too short.

  I pushed myself up on my tiptoes so our faces were closer. His breath hitched and then I did the most natural thing in the world. I kissed him again.

  His lips were so gentle with mine. So careful. As if he was worried he’d break my mouth if he pushed.

  I had been kissed before, and done the kissing. It was pleasant, but nothing like this. If those were kisses, I didn’t have a word for what this was.

  His arms wound around me. One on my lower back and one on my neck. I tilted my face and pushed a little harder. Letting him know that it was okay. After a moment of hesitation, he ignited.

  Coen moaned in the back of his throat and before I knew what I was doing, my tongue had breached the seam of his lips and brushed over that chipped tooth. His mouth was warm and sweet.

  I had initiated things, but he started to take over. Now it was his tongue in my mouth, exploring, tasting, wanting more. I pressed myself into him and wondered how I was still standing.

  He gasped in a breath and then rested his forehead against mine.

  “Ingrid?” Just my name. A question that I didn’t know the answer to.

  “Yeah?”

  We were both short of breath.

  “I really like being your friend.”

  I opened my eyes and stared into his. So green. He licked his lips, as if to savor the taste of me.

  “Good,” I said. “That’s good.” I leaned into his chest and he hugged me. Held me. He held me and I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that. I inhaled him, wanting to make the moment last. Lock it up inside.

  “God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he said, sighing into my hair.

  I hadn’t. Or at least I didn’t think that I had. I didn’t respond, just cuddled further into his shirt. My hands were trapped between us, pressed against him.

  His heart was going wild, even though we were standing still. Mine seemed like it was struggling to get out of my chest, out of the cage of my ribs like a scared bird.

  We were interrupted by Coen’s phone. He jerked away from me and fumbled to silence it, but it was too late. The moment shattered. Popped, just like a bubble.

  Everything rushed back into my head and I backed away from him. Coen reached for me, but didn’t step closer.

  “Ingrid?” I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see him anymore. If I couldn’t see him, perhaps I wouldn’t want him so much.

  I did want him. So much that my fingers reached for him even when I tried to pull them back.

  “Ingrid?” he said again and my eyes snapped open. It was easy, so easy, to step back into his arms and let him cradle me into his chest.

  “Please say something. I get worried when you’re quiet.” That was funny. I was quiet all the time.

  I didn’t used to be. I used to talk a lot. I got in trouble for it at school. “Bossy” was often written on the evaluations sent home. I’d loved words, loved reading. Loved finding the most obscure excerpts and then throwing them in the repertoire of my everyday speech.

  Now words didn’t matter. They were empty. Just letters arranged in a certain way. Completely useless.

  “I don’t know what to say.” It was the truth. I lied to him all the time, but I wasn’t lying about that.

  “Well, I’m kind of freaking out here, so you could at least reassure me that you’re okay and you don’t want to punch me or never see me again. I couldn’t stand it if you didn’t want to see me again.” The desperation in his voice put more cracks in my already-destroyed heart. I wasn’t sure how much more damage it could take before it stopped working completely. Before him, I’d thought it had stopped working. Guess it still had a little life left in it.

  At least until he broke it.

  “I’m okay. I’m not going to punch you and I’m not going to tell you to go away and never see me again.” My voice was muffled by his shirt, but I knew he heard me. His body relaxed around me and I could feel him smiling even though I couldn’t see it.

  “You have no idea how happy that makes me. No. Idea.”

  Holy motherfucking shit.

  I kissed Ingrid. I kissed Ingrid A LOT. She kissed me back. And she was currently in my arms, digging her fingers into my shirt and resting her head on my chest.

  I was so happy, I thought I was going to explode. I didn’t know if I could even stand it. I couldn’t stand the way she fit under my chin and how her head found the perfect spot to rest. And the way her lips felt.

  She was… perfect, and I was holding her.

  At last she pulled away and I let her. She raked her hair back from her face as her cheeks flushed. I’d never seen anything so heartbreakingly gorgeous.

  “I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now, but I know that I like it and I want it to continue,” she said and I couldn’t take my eyes off her newly reddened lips. I’d done that. I’d made them look like that.

  Fuck. Yes.

  I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over my face. I wanted to grab her up and spin her around while some cheesy song played, like in the movies.

  She took another step away from me and shook her head, as if she was trying to clear it.

  “What the hell am I doing?” Her voice was breathless and she pushed her hair back again and gave me a nervous smile. “I’m not this girl. I’m not the girl who kisses the guy.” I closed the distance between us and put my hand on her cheek, stroking her soft skin.

  “Maybe you are and you don’t even know it. You can be whatever you want, Ingrid.” Her breath hitched when I said her name. She always reacted when I used it, which was one of the thrills of using it around her.

  She pursed her lips and tried to look away from me, but failed.

  “What are we even doing?” she whispered.

  “Whatever we want,” I said and kissed her again.

  We went back to the movie and this time she let me keep my arm around her as we watched. I kept sneaking looks at her face. There was something calm about her expression. As if she was letting her guard down around me. It was fucking amazing.

  “You’re staring,” she said, poking me in the stomach.

  “I can’t help it,” I said,
telling her the truth. I wished I didn’t have to keep lying to her, but it was necessary, especially now. She would know the truth. Someday, she would know everything.

  “I told you that I’m not this girl. I don’t know how to do this. I did… before, but not now.” My heart jumped at that admission.

  “Before what?” I asked gently.

  Her eyes went wide when she realized what she’d said and I waited for her to bolt again. But then she calmed herself and leaned her head on my shoulder.

  “Before college. That’s what I meant.” It was a lie, but that was fine. For now.

  “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter if you believe you can do this or not. I’ll believe enough for the both of us.” That made her look up and stare at me for a few seconds.

  “You always know the right things to say,” she whispered, her fingers ghosting over my lips.

  “Not really,” I said against her hand.

  “Yes, really,” she said, taking her fingers away and replacing them with her mouth. She kissed me softly and sat back.

  “Are we still friends?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “You’re my absolute favorite friend.”

  She fell asleep against me and I wasn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, she needed sleep more than anyone I’d ever met. On the other, my back was starting to hurt and I was going to need to use the bathroom very soon.

  It took nearly ten minutes, but I finally extricated myself from under her and made sure she was still sleeping when I got up. Now what? I didn’t want to just leave and have her be confused when she woke up. But sleeping on her floor like a total creeper wasn’t an option either. With my luck, she’d wake up in the middle of the night, think I was an intruder and call campus security.

  I looked around and then found the cardboard box the cupcakes had come in and then found a Sharpie on her desk.

  Didn’t want to wake you when I left. I’ll see you tomorrow, friend.

  -Coen

  It wasn’t poetic or romantic, but it was the best I could do at the moment. See? I didn’t always have the right words.

  I left the box on her desk, so that when she woke up, it would be in her line of sight. Just before I turned off the lights and walked out, I left a kiss on her temple.