by Robin Leaf
I removed my hand from her arm. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I just thought since we were spending so much time together, and since you were taking such good care of me that I could show you my appreciation by offering you a meal.” I smiled. “Also, it’s customary in our society for old friends to be able to share a meal together. I don’t understand why that idea is so repulsive to you.”
“I’m not repulsed.” She smiled tightly before walking over to the desk to sit down. “I just can’t, Nate.” Nate. Again with the Nate.
When we were alone in the clinic on that Friday, it felt like we could get back some of the relationship we had. Now, she treated me like we were virtual strangers. I was just another client to her. Okay. That stung.
After a few minutes, she finished her notes for today and walked back over to me. While removing the ice packs from my leg, she slipped a small piece of paper in my hand. After she taped me up, she said a little louder than necessary, “Same time tomorrow, Nate.”
I was confused, but I tried to hide it. “Alright, cool.” I grabbed my water bottle and my jacket. “Happy Halloween, everyone.”
A chorus of “Happy Halloween” followed from her staff.
When I sat in my car, I unfolded the piece of paper. On it she had written: Buzzy’s, 11:00. Order me my usual. It’s moved.
The new address was written at the bottom. I smiled. We frequented Buzzy’s Pizza in college, and it had been a long time since I had it. I looked at the new address which was not far away. The location in the Village was small, so it was about time they got a bigger place.
I had some time to waste, so I drove around the campus and the Village, seeing what had changed and what was the same. Our old apartment complex looked the same, but there were so many changes to the rest of our old stomping grounds. I stopped for gas, which earned me and my car a few inquisitive looks, before I drove to Buzzy’s.
I got there a little early, glad I beat the lunch rush. I ordered and grabbed a table in the back corner. When Etta arrived, she scanned the room. I waved, and she walked to the table smiling since our food was already there.
“I like the secret rendezvous,” I teased. “Makes me feel like a spy.”
“Oh, please,” she grumbled. She grabbed the tea I ordered for her and drank half of it down. “Thank goodness it’s already here. I’m starving.” She took a bite and swallowed. “Hey, I’m sorry for earlier, Nathaniel.” Yes, she said Nathaniel. “I have to be professional to set a good example for my employees. I preach to them to not get personally involved with patients, to be cordial without crossing the line, so it would look really bad for me not to lead by example. It’s why I haven’t been too friendly at the clinic. I thought you got that since it seemed you were following my lead.”
“I got that.” I totally didn’t get that. “But they know we were friends before. So I didn’t think anything of asking you to lunch.” I took a drink. “I’m sorry if it put you in a bad position.”
“It’s okay, and you’re probably right,” she assured. Then her face turned angry. “It’s just that Andre. Damn. He’s worse than a woman. Trying to get me to divulge details of our past. I know when I’m not there, they must sit around and gossip like little old ladies. I’m very guarded about my personal life. They don’t know much about me, and I prefer it to stay that way.” She pointed her finger at me. “Don’t you dare give him any details. I have to maintain my cred with those kids, you hear me? And no more calling me Eddie in front of them.”
“Kids? They aren’t much younger than you. When did you become such a hard ass?”
“It’s hard to maintain a reputable place if there’s a bunch of unprofessional shit going on. I’ve worked hard to create a cutting-edge PT clinic.” She took a bite. “People are coming to me from all over the world,” she said with her mouth full. “I have to run the shop like the leading facility it is.”
I smiled. “As long as they don’t see you eat, you should do fine.”
She shot me a look over her spinach calzone. “Smart ass.”
A young kid, probably about eight or nine, had approached our table stared at me with wide eyes. What looked to be a fresh cast was on his forearm, which explained why he was out of school today. He wore my jersey, something that always thrilled me when I saw it. It thrilled me more this time since I didn’t play in Houston. “Excuse me, are you Nate Slaughter?”
“Yes, I am.” I held out my hand and he shook it.
“I was gonna ask if you would be the first to sign my cast.”
“Awesome. I’d be honored. What’s your name?”
“Jonathan.”
I signed his cast. “We have something in common, Jonathan. I just got out of a cast from breaking my leg. How’d you break your arm?”
“Playing football. But I like baseball better.”
“Yeah? What’s your position?”
He looked down. “Left field, but I really wanna play third base.”
“Not catcher, huh?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Catcher’s job is too hard. Plus, my dad says catchers have short careers because it’s hell on the knees.” Etta burst out laughing. Gotta love kids’ honesty.
I talked to the kid for about five more minutes talking about teams and players and about doing what the doctor told him to get his arm to heal faster.
His mom came over to get him. She took our picture, shook my hand and thanked me for spending time talking with her son.
“No problem. Hey Jonathan,” I called after him. “It was awesome to meet you. Remember, when you find what you love, work hard and don’t ever give up on it.”
“Okay, Nate. Thanks for signing my cast.”
When we were alone again, I looked over at Etta, who was sporting a goofy grin.
“What?” I asked.
“That was impressive. You were great with him.” She took a drink, but didn’t take her eyes off me. “He probably won’t ever forget that moment.”
“I love my fans, Eddie.”
“Well, I’m definitely one now.” She chewed her last bite and swallowed. “Miles is probably your biggest fan. He really wants to see you again. He really doesn’t remember much from being with you when he was little.”
“Wow. Cool. How old is he now?”
“Just turned thirteen. He’s discovered girls.” She checked her phone for the time. “He’s a little heartbreaker, just like you. It just adds to the list of things Mom has to worry about with him.”
“I don’t remember breaking any hearts, especially at thirteen.” Her face fell and she dropped her eyes. What was that about? Instead of asking, I changed the subject. “I really missed this place. I’m glad you suggested it. But next time, can we get Mexican Food? It really sucks in Cali.”
She smiled but said nothing. Questions. Questions are good.
“How’s Beth?” I asked, hoping the topic of Beth would not earn me another death stare like the mention of Emily did.
“She and Chris are on kid number two. She’s a stay at home mom. I can’t imagine doing that. I mean, I respect her decision to stay home, but if I were her parents, I’d be pissed. All that money they spent on a degree from Rice, and she stays at home.”
“I knew she and Chris planned to have a lot of kids.” I threw my napkin on the table. “It’s weird thinking about them as parents. He was always crazy about her.”
She studied my face for a second, contemplating her words. “You really didn’t stay in touch with anyone, did you?”
I felt my face flame. “I tried at first.” I didn’t want to hear about her, but I couldn’t say that. “I was very focused on my career.”
“Yeah,” she cocked her head to the side and looked me in the eye. “I understand that.”
“But it’s not like my number changed.” I downed the rest of my water. “No one tried too hard to call me either.”
“You and Chris were close though.”
“Yeah, he asked me to stand up for him at his wedding, but it was
All-Star weekend. Chris insisted I not turn it down. After that, we just...” I trailed off. She sighed, but I didn’t want to ask what was wrong. She studied me for a minute. I could tell she was trying really hard not to say something, but instead, she shook her head.
“I have to get going. Thanks for lunch.” We both stood up and walked out the door.
“So this is your car,” she said, running her fingers along the hood. “It’s pretty badass.”
I grinned. “If you’re really nice to me, I might let you drive it.” I opened my arms. She studied my stance warily. She stepped forward tentatively, wrapped her arms around my waist and settled against my chest.
Ah, there it was again. Warmth. Dreamsicles. Perfection.
I felt like I was home.
Finally.
Eleven
November 4, nine years ago
I considered changing my clothes. This was ridiculous. I’d become a fucking girl.
Etta was due over in a few minutes. Tonight she said she wanted me to help her with a project one of her professors assigned. She said she needed my input, but I still wanted to look just right. Shorts, sweat pants, or jeans? I wanted to look nice for her, which is why I felt like a girl. I mean I didn’t want to look like I was trying to impress her, and since it was a bit cool outside, I chose sweats and a long-sleeve t-shirt.
I opted to dress for hanging out with my buddy. Yep. Just like any other night with a beautiful-eyed, kissable-lipped, lickable-bodied, doesn’t-know-she’s-sexy, smells-like-heavenly-Dreamsicles, can’t-stop-thinking-about-her buddy. Because I had so many of those hanging around.
Etta and Beth moved one building over from us in August. Chris, my roommate, and Beth were still dating. In fact, they were pretty serious, kind of disgustingly so. Etta decided to allow them to have the apartment to themselves periodically. I knew the reason was because she didn’t want to watch them make out on the couch or hear them having sex. They’d done it here enough for me to know how loud both of them could be. So when Chris and Beth were together, Etta came over.
Tonight was our eighth couch-time hang-out session. Sometimes we’d study. One time, we watched a football game. My favorites were when we’d start out with a movie and end up talking. A couple of those times she ended up falling asleep on my couch. I’m not going to lie. I’d watch her sleep. She was so innocent and flawless when she slept. The only bad thing was I couldn’t see her eyes. But damn, she was beautiful. I never touched her, even though I wanted to so badly. I’d usually end up in my room, alone, dreaming of her. Yes. I had it bad.
David, as far as I knew, was still in the picture unfortunately, but he and Etta were just casually dating. At least that’s all I think it was. I didn’t ask for details. And since I hadn’t spoken to him since my brother’s birthday, he wasn’t telling me anything.
I wasn’t dating. I was back to the occasional hook up, but I didn’t advertise those. I had two rules: I never, ever brought a girl home with me, and I never stayed the night. It didn’t happen often, twice since that night with Kammie. I tried not to think too much about the fact that those two times were right after Etta slept over.
God, that made me sound like an asshole. And I wasn’t one, I swear. Both of those girls came on to me first, but I was more than willing to hook up with them to try to alleviate the ache caused by the woman who consumed my thoughts. Yeah, that didn’t make me sound any better, did it? And to top it off, it never worked.
When I came out of my bedroom, she was there on the couch, binder and lap top opened in front of her, pen in her hand, music playing, and a box from Buzzy’s on the coffee table. Have I mentioned that this girl is perfect?
“What’s this?” I asked, walking around the coffee table and grabbing a slice out of the box.
“Dinner. I figured since you are helping me with my project, I’d buy.” She took a bite. “It’s a preemptive thank you.”
“Thank you for your thank you. You take the whole way to a man’s heart thing seriously, don’t you?”
“I’m not interested in your heart tonight, Nathaniel, just your brain,” she quipped.
That kinda hurt. I knew she was joking. I just wish she knew that I would give my heart to her willingly, and for a lot less than pizza.
She laughed when I stuck out my tongue, complete with half-chewed pizza on it. Immature, I know, but she started it. I finished my piece and grabbed another out of the box.
“So just what can my brain do for you, Miss Sullivan?”
“Okay, I’m supposed to ask you some questions then show you some images and clips, and you are to measure your responses to each. I need you to take this seriously and give honest answers.”
“Alright.” I crossed my eyes at her. “I’m ready.”
“No, Nathaniel. I’m serious. I need you to pinky swear you will take this seriously.” She held up her pinky. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, pinky swear.”
“Ugh, fine.” I linked my pinky with hers.
“Now you have to kiss it to seal the deal,” she said with as much seriousness as I’ve ever seen her use.
“What are we, eight?” I joked.
“Just kiss the pinkies, Dumbass.”
Her beautiful eyes locked on mine as we both leaned in and kissed our joined little fingers. The top of her upper lip barely grazed mine. I moved away quickly before I could do something stupid.
“Okay. Ask your first question.” Please God let it distract me from kissing her.
She picked up a packet and began reading. “Does it bother you when two people kiss passionately in public?”
What. The. Hell.
I stared at her mouth. I couldn’t help it. Her biting the end of her pen just made it worse. Fuck.
“Nathaniel, this is the portion of the program when you answer the question.”
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking of an answer.” Good save. “I would have to say yes, it does bother me in most instances to have two people making out in public. There are certain things that should be done in private. I’m not against all public kissing, but watching two people going at it, shoving their tongues down each other’s throats is gross.” I smiled, impressed with myself that I could come up with such an involved answer when all I could think of was kissing her passionately.
She smiled. “I was looking for a simple yes or no. But thank you for elaborating.” She looked down at the packet. “Okay, now I’m supposed to show you two pictures and you tell me which one is more appealing.” She opened her lap top and pulled up two pictures. One was of a man and a woman kissing. You could see that the tongues were engaged. His hands were gripping her ass, pulling her close to him. Hers were in his hair. The second was the same couple, but the kiss was different. No tongues. His hands were in her hair, and her hands were on his shoulders pulling him closer.
“You don’t have to study them so hard. It’s supposed to be a quick choice.”
“The first one, I guess.” I thought about it for a second. “What class did you say this was for?”
“Human sexuality. Now, second question…”
“Whoa, wait a minute. Human sexuality? What the hell, Eddie? I’m not going to tell you sex secrets so you can write about them for this project.” I went to the kitchen and got two beers out of the refrigerator.
She laughed. “Relax, Nathaniel,” she yelled from the couch. “It’s not like that. First of all, I’m not supposed to use any names. Secondly, the questions aren’t asking for secrets. It’s just a survey on the differences between males’ and females’ perceptions of sensuality. Beth participated earlier today. There is nothing completely inappropriate. Grow up.”
“Grow up? What if I asked you these questions? How comfortable would you be answering them?” I handed her a beer.
“Completely. But I’ll make you a deal. If anything makes you too uncomfortable, I’ll find someone else.”
“Why aren’t you asking David these questions?” I blurted, not hiding my contempt for him.
&n
bsp; “Who, Thumper?” She took a drink. “He’s not a viable option anymore. I dumped his ass.”
I almost did a spit take. “Thumper?”
“Yeah, forget I said that. You don’t want to know the details. Just know he and I are done.”
“Now I have to know. We’re friends… Don’t friends confide in each other?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then tell me what happened and why you call him Thumper.”
She blushed. “Okay, but you asked.” She turned to face her computer. “It’s just like it sounds. He was fast, in every sense of the word. He rushed through sex without any attention to detail.” Why did I ask again? “I thought it would get better, that maybe the first time was bad because he’d been drinking, but sadly, no. I know guys think that sex is like pizza, even when it’s bad, it’s still good. But for girls, that’s not true.” She leveled her eyes at me. “I’ve had bad pizza.” She raised the bottle to her lips. “And then he started talking about commitment. Ugh.” She took a drink. “I hate it when guys get all clingy and needy.”
“I thought girls liked all that commitment shit.” I took another drink. “Are you sure you’re even a girl?”
She looked down her shirt. “Yep, still a girl.” She picked the packet back up. “Now, can I ask you another question, or are you going to get all super-sensitive girly-man on me again?”
I was a little lost in three thoughts. One, a touchdown celebration dance erupted in my head at the thought that David was out of the picture; I had to be careful not to spike my beer. Two, she fucking had sex with that asshole, who I was currently working out a plan on how to kill him the next time I saw him. And three, I was thinking about looking down her shirt, wondering what kind of bra she was wearing, if at all. Luckily, the third thought distracted me from reacting to the both the first and the second.
“Nathaniel…” Her silky voice brought me back to reality.
“Yeah, sure. Go for it.”
“Okay, which would you prefer: your partner taking off her clothes for you, or would you want to take off her clothes yourself.”
I took a drink of beer. “You mean like a strip tease?”
