Pretty Things Don't Break

by Lauren Jayne

  When we walked out of the bathroom, Kurt was leaning against the couch like he was waiting for us. Without saying a word, he wrapped me up in a hug and leaned his head down on my shoulder, grabbing the back of my neck to pull me in a little closer.

  “It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

  “We’re here,” I said, as Carmen grabbed my hand and we headed downstairs.

  The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering through my body. Kurt’s hair was shorter than I’d ever seen it, but it was still long enough to fall over his soft, delicious brown eyes when he looked down at me. Carmen and I sat on the stairs and chatted with the guys as they rotated over and caught us up on their lives, taking breaks from playing hoops and skating under the streetlight. Every time Carmen and I changed locations from the steps to the kitchen, to the bonfire, and ending in a circle in the living room, Kurt would peek in and check in on us.

  “You guys okay?”

  When there was only about ten of us left, Carmen and I got up from the couch, and I told Kurt we had to go.

  “You can’t go; I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all night. Why don’t you stay?” and he took my hand.

  “Carmen is with me.”

  “I’m so tired, Lor. We can stay,” she said in her sweet, sleepy, little girl voice.

  “I’m staying, too,” Ben said.

  Within two minutes Carmen and I were on Kurt’s bed, Kurt was on the floor next to us, and Ben was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  When Carmen and I stopped laughing in the dark room, I heard, “Lauren, Lor, come down.” It was Ben.

  “Go to sleep, Ben,” I said, throwing a pillow down at him.

  A few minutes later, when the room was quiet with just the hum of the music downstairs, Kurt tapped my shoulder. I looked down at him and smiled. He took his index finger and signaled me to come down. Hearing Carmen’s deep breaths, I knew she was asleep, and I slid off the bed. Kurt raised his blanket so I could slide in next to him. Lying next to Kurt’s beautiful warm body, I melted. Our bodies fit together perfectly.

  With his arm around my waist, he pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, “I’ve missed you so much.”

  In one movement, Kurt’s big hand flipped me over so I was facing him. Resting my chin on his chest, I smiled up at him as he reached down, gently guiding my mouth to his. When our lips touched, electricity ran through my body; the dark room felt bright under my closed eyes and the butterflies were back. On our sides, facing each other under the blanket, Kurt knowingly ran his hand up and down the side of my body, over my undies, moving the tiny strap from my camisole off of my shoulder. He kissed up and down from my shoulder to my neck. Not able to stand being away from his soft lips, I took his face in both of my hands and brought his mouth to mine. As he gently bit my bottom lip with his teeth, his hands in my hair, I felt more at ease intimately with Kurt than I ever had with anyone else. No one had ever touched me like him. I knew with Kurt I could let my guard down, and he’d never cross my invisible line.

  Squeezing my hip bone in one hand, the other was in my hair as we kissed, his tongue running over my lips, his hand in mine above my head. I jumped. One, two, three hands! Ben was holding my hand and playing with my hair, not realizing what was going on with Kurt in the dark. I ripped my hand away as I heard Ben whisper my name. Kurt pulled the covers over our heads, wrapped me in his arm, and scooted me down a foot, so our feet were against the wall. Breathing in every ounce of me, he gently pushed my head back and kissed from my eyes to my mouth, along my jaw, then moved my hair back and kissed my neck. My body felt as if it were floating, my heart beating so fast I was afraid it would wake Carmen. With my cami off my shoulder, Kurt kissed my hot skin and my stomach and the inside of my thighs, breathing me in like he was smelling a rose. I reached down for him as he crawled up my body, pulled me down to him, and kissed me.

  With his beautiful hand, he moved the hair from my ear and whispered, “I’ve always loved you. Always.”

  The next day, stepping over the guys who had crashed on the floor, Kurt came down the stairs with just his shorts on, exposing his naturally hairless, perfect chest, with sleepy eyes.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “We have to go,” I said.

  “Let’s go for a walk later or for dinner,” he said.

  “Page me later,” I said.

  He hugged me into his warm body, and we said our goodbyes.

  When the car door closed and we drove down the street, Carmen said, “What happened? Did you sleep with Kurt? You were on the floor when I woke up.”

  “I’m sure! I didn’t sleep with Kurt. I’ve never slept with Kurt. I mean, we have slept together a million times, but never – you know – and I wouldn’t do it with him on the floor with you and Ben in the room,” I said, my face reddening.

  “Well, Kurt wants to ‘you know’ with you. Every time I looked up last night, he was staring at you,” Carmen laughed.

  “No, he, well, I don’t know; it’s crazy with Kurt. Carmen, he is the best kisser and not the best by a pinch, he is the best kisser on the planet. Kissing Kurt is better than sex,” I said.

  “Imagine what the sex would be like,” she said.

  “I don’t sleep with my friends.”

  “You don’t sleep with anyone, and it’s a waste. What are you trying to prove?”

  “I always felt I had to prove to myself that I wasn’t a slut.”

  “Are you kidding, you won’t let anyone touch you, how could you think that?”

  “My dad called me that every day. I guess he hoped that if I believed it, I’d let him do what he wanted to me. I know it’s not true, but I had to make sure I could prove it to myself too. I know it’s fucked up and stupid, but it’s the truth and…”

  “And,” she said, “you have to fuck him, Lauren. What if you die tomorrow and never know what it felt like to have Kurt in your body?”

  Just those words made my whole body hot. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

  “I just don’t have sex with my friends.”

  “He’s not just your friend. He never has been.”

  “Yes, he has. Well, I thought he was and then when my dad died he was so sweet. Do you know he didn’t go one day without calling to check on me or coming over? I was a disgusting animal when he came over, snot on my t-shirt from crying, no make-up, I was gross. But whenever Kurt looks at me, I feel, not gross. When I had one of my, ‘it feels like you’re my dad’ freak out moments when we were making out, he never got frustrated with me, like Ben did. He’d wrap me in his arms and sleep as close to me as my own skin all night. On Valentine’s Day after Dad died, on Kurt’s birthday, I walked out to my car and he’d left a single rose with a note on my window. How sweet is he?”

  “I don’t get it,” Carmen said.

  “You know, not one time has he asked me out, officially, or told me how he feels about me or told me that he wants me to be his, for us to be together. Never.”

  “So? He shows you just in how he looks at you.”

  “It’s not enough. I assume people don’t want me. So if a guy wants me, I need to hear it and feel it. I have to. If it’s not crystal clear, in my head, I think they just want to be friends. Like Kurt.”

  “He’s never just wanted to be your friend. You have to know that.”

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter, Lor, you’re missing out,” she said in the way only she could.

  “Carmen, you know how you say you’d like to have my body for the weekend? Well, I’d like to have your mind, even for an hour. Do you know how fucking frustrating it is to be in someone’s arms that you love, that loves you, and when you close your eyes all you can feel are your dad’s hands? It’s only happened a few times with Kurt, but it sucks, and no matter how hard I try and talk myself down, it’s always there, somewhere, fucking with my head. With Mark, it happened every time his hands touched my
bare stomach.”

  “Gross,” she said. “No – sorry – but gross. Go on. I want to hear.”

  “The shadow of him looked exactly like my dad. Sometimes when we were laying in bed kissing, and he put his hand up my shirt, a tear would escape from my eye and he never noticed. But it’s my fault. That was so fucking long ago, and I can’t have one fucking moment alone in bed with anyone. I’d do anything to be you, Car. Anything.”

  Chapter 31

  Queen City

  Sitting in the bath after another early morning at the Grand Illusion (the coffee shop that Noah owned and I worked at) covered with bubbles, my hair up on the top of my head in a ball, the phone rang. I shook off my soapy hands and grabbed our new cordless phone from the stool, pulling the antenna up with my teeth.

  “Lauren? It’s Ted from Cassie’s party.”

  “You do not just say Lauren – you say hello first – and how did you get my number?”

  “I got it from Cassie.”

  “She never even called to ask,” I said, rolling over onto my stomach in the tub.

  “Are you in a pool? What’s with all the splashing?”

  “You called my house. I’m not swimming in my house. I’m in the bath.”

  “That’s hot; you’re naked right now.”

  “I gotta go,” then I pushed three buttons on the phone and heard him laugh. “OK, I have to go, though, for real,” I said.

  “I want to take you to dinner. Is Wednesday or Thursday better?”

  “Are you serious? No, I’m not going to dinner with you. I told you, I’d never date you,” I said, laughing at how crazy he was.

  “OK, I’ll pick you up at seven on Wednesday.”

  “No, really…”

  “Bye!” he said and hung up the phone.

  When I got out of the bath, I grabbed the digital clock on my dresser, threw my clothes on and ran out the door. Twenty minutes later I was sprinting through Sea-Tac so I’d be at my mom’s gate when her plane landed. This was her first visit since selling our house and moving to Connecticut to be with Greg.

  “Hi! Let me take your bag,” I said as we hugged. “How are you feeling? How was the flight? How long is it to Connecticut? How’s gross Greg, is he still with the nurse he met on your cruise?” I asked.

  “Let’s go down and get my bag,” she said.

  “You look great, Mom. Do you feel normal or still really tired?”

  “I feel pretty much back to normal. I just have a little scar under my arm where they did the lumpectomy and still feel like I’m a little green from the chemo and radiation, but I’m OK.”

  Walking through the terminal with Mom, I thanked God that He’d helped her through breast cancer, and felt so grateful that I had a mom; I couldn’t imagine my life without her. As we wound down the spiraling parking garage ramp, which always made me feel a little nauseous, Can’t Find A Better Man filled the airwaves. Feeling as if Mom were reading my personal diary, I quickly changed the station. Walking into my room at Mrs. Miller’s to put her bags away, Mom noticed that I was still keeping my clothes in the little wire cubes I’d bought at Fred Meyer when we had turned this room from a sewing room to my bedroom in less than a moment’s notice.

  A few days later, as Mom banged away on the new rack we’d found for my clothes, I jumped in the shower. When the doorbell rang, I peeked out the kitchen window and then looked to my room where Mom was laying in my bed.

  “Honey, is that the boy you were telling me might come over?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, I guess we’re going to dinner,” I said, laughing that Ted was really downstairs.

  “Do you want me to get up to meet him?” she said from my bed.

  “No, Mom, he’s a buddy of mine – actually, he’s Cassie’s boyfriend’s best friend – no, just get some rest. I’ll be home soon.”

  “OK, love you, Lor.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  Seeing Ted looking up through the sheer drapes that covered our glass door, I ran down the stairs, slipped on my shoes and opened the door, shaking my head.

  “How did you figure out how to get here? I never gave you my address. And I said no, you know?”

  “Cassie – and look who’s ready,” he teased.

  I ran down the front stairs in my black and gray plaid skirt fastened with one button at my hip, a white tank, a soft black cardigan from Banana Republic, pearls, and white socks pulled up to my knees. Ted walked in front of me and opened my door. His champagne-colored VW Fox was the cleanest car I’d ever seen. The checkered, smooth, velvety seats, the camel-colored carpet with fresh vacuum marks, the windows smudge-free.

  “Your car is…did you just have it detailed or something?”

  “No. When my dad came out and saw me cleaning it, he asked if I was picking up a princess. I said yes.”

  Driving down 520, I sat back in my seat and looked over at Ted. “Are you nervous? Don’t be nervous.”

  Ted just looked at me, smiled, and turned up the mixed tape he had in his player with all of my favorite songs.

  When Rage Against The Machine came on, he turned it down and said, “Sorry.”

  I flipped the volume back up, and we headed across the lake.

  As the car hummed over the grated bridge deck, I looked over at Ted and thought, I just can’t do this whole princess thing again. Where do people get this? I rolled my gum into a little ball with my tongue and spat it right past his face and through the one-inch opening.

  Ted looked over at me with his hand on the stick and said, “Nice shot, that’s impressive.”

  Noticing again that his hands were massive, with beautiful smooth brown skin and manicured-looking nails, I said, “What’s the deal with the pinky ring?”

  “Some girl at work gave it to me.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” I asked, laughing because Cassie told me that he had slept with pretty much every girl at the Cove and apparently at UW Law School too.

  “Yep.”

  As we drove, Ted slipped the ring off and threw it in his cup holder.

  We stood at the crosswalk on First Avenue and headed across the street to the Queen City Grill on the corner. We walked back into the dimly lit restaurant and slid into a booth as the waitress brought us each a glass of Bordeaux. I sat back and looked at Ted as he brought the Fresh Sheet to his face and smelled the menu.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, looking at Ted like he was crazy.

  “I wanted to smell it. I’m kind of a smell guy,” he said.

  “Lemme see your watch,” I said grabbing Ted’s hand. From across the table, it looked just like Milton’s watch with a leather band.

  “I just got this. I loved my old watch, but I lost it.”

  “How?”

  “I was at the Moore, and the mosh pit was so packed at one point my feet weren’t on the floor. When I left, my shirt was torn, and my watch was just gone. But Eddie Vedder jumped in right over us. He was a crazy mother fucker that night, climbed all the way up the scaffolding over the stage.”

  When he used his hands to point out the imaginary scaffolding, I couldn’t help but stare at them. The man could be a hand model.

  He went on, “If he’d jumped he would’ve died. I don’t think we could have caught him no matter how hard we tried. But, this watch tells time so I don’t care,” he said in an easy, ‘I just say what I’m thinking’ way.

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “Some girl from Law school. She heard about the mosh pit watch story and brought this back from DC.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” I laughed, saying whatever I felt like since my main objective was to get Ted to leave me alone.

  “Yep.”

  I laughed.

  When our salads came, I felt a body slam into mine in the booth. I looked up; it was Carmen.

  “Hi!” I said and hugged her. She smelled like whiskey, cigarettes, and perfume.

  She pointed across at Ted, “This is him?”

  She picked up a
piece of bread and played with it and threw it back down on the plate.

  Then she faced me and said, “Seriously? Look at the sweater, and what’s with the leather necklace? Let’s get out of here.”

  She was talking so fast, with a dry mouth, and rubbing her nose like there were stinging ants in it. I knew she’d just snorted a mound of coke.

  Ted put his tomatoes on a fork and said, “Want mine?” to me.

  Carmen jokingly pushed the fork away, sending one of the tomatoes flying onto the shiny wood table.

  “She hates fucking tomatoes, don’t try to pawn off your tomatoes. You don’t know anything about her – look at her – we’re gonna go,” she said, grabbing my hand, “Let’s go have a smoke, smoke with me.”

  “I’m out,” I said.

  “OK, come down when you’re done here. I’ll be downstairs or at Brick Street,” she said.

  Carmen got up and fumbled her way to the door in her Levi, cut-off shorts, pockets poking out through the frayed edges, our favorite shared vintage cowboy boots and a tiny cami hanging off her shoulder.

  Instantly, I got a little quiet while staring at my bread plate and thought, we aren’t kids anymore, I’m almost twenty-three. We are supposed to be getting our shit together. Watching people stare at her as if she were just another drunk, high girl who was making a scene in this fancy restaurant made me sad. She was so much more than that. I wanted Ted to see her for who she really was, not this person. I snapped back and thought, if he’s judging her, I’ll leave.

  “That’s my best friend,” I said, testing him to see if his face would change when he heard those words.

  Completely unfazed, he said, “She’s got nothing on my friends. My buddies Sean and Noah and I were on frat row leaving a party…”