by Lily Kay
“Louie.”
I waited a moment and received a half grunt. At least he got the reference. “No, it’s all good. Just surprised, is all. Your personal business is your own and I’m not one to judge. Thanks for telling me, though.”
He watched me for a moment and I would have guessed he’d bring up our failed attempt at Twenty Questions.
“Can I buy you lunch after this?” he asked.
Another chip from my barrier fell away. Because he still wanted to hang out with me despite knowing about my sad existence of a childhood. And, I still wanted to hang around him despite his past flirtation with borderline nymphomania.
Gavin took me to a mom and pop pizza shop down the street from Groove after class. Meat coated half the pizza, and I dug the veggies.
The sun warmed us enough we didn’t need a coat. I still couldn’t bring myself to eat inside when the weather didn’t consist of snow or sleeting rain. Too soon winter would make its reign on Newsom and, thanks to the lake effect, would stick around until at least April.
“I need to tell you why I had more than my fair share of girlfriends,” he mumbled. “Feels like I’m in confession, even though I left the Catholic Church years ago.” He leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him on the table.
Mine remained clenched on my lap.
“Honestly, Gavin. You don’t have to explain. I get it. You’re a dude. Dudes are allowed to have a lot of sex. You’re attractive, were a jock, and I’m sure the girls were lining up to be near you. Matt and Nick said it was a totally normal amount and it freaked me out a little because it’s an understatement to say I’m not experienced.”
“Louie.” I didn’t hear his explanation because his phone’s ring cut him off. He glared at the screen and furrowed his brows.
“Excuse me, I gotta take this. Hey, how’s it going?” Gavin paced down the sidewalk out of hearing distance.
I waited, sipping water until I emptied the cup, wondering who called, and why they were more important than Gavin confessing his sexual sins. Our waiter returned to refill my glass and brought our pizza before Gavin reappeared.
“Someone from this place I’m volunteering at.” He eyed the pizza and pulled two slices. Before I could ask more about his volunteer gig, he reverted to our earlier conversation.
“It’s not because I didn’t want to have a long-term relationship. I liked the idea of it, but I was working through a lot of shit with my family and the last thing I wanted was another person sucking up time I didn’t have.”
“You didn’t want a long-term relationship.” I blew on my piece before I took a bite, steam still rising from the garlic red sauce.
“Technically, you’re right. I didn’t want anything long-term. But once I got my shit together, I wanted something more meaningful. Besides, I was a horny bastard in college. The girls liked me, and it was easy to score with a lot of beautiful women.”
Of course, scoring women came easy. Why did he have to be a sex deity in human form? I nodded. “No apologies?” He certainly didn’t sugar coat anything.
“I wasn’t shy about my expectations.”
I groaned because he sounded a little too much like Matt and Nick. No wonder they all got along.
“I feel like I’ve heard this excuse before from your entire gender. As long as the girl knows what your expectations are, you don’t have to worry if you fuck ‘em and dump ‘em? Nick and Matt say the same thing and I think it’s a total cop out giving guys a free pass to screw as many women as possible, while we women have to hold out until we find true love.”
“Complete bullshit. I think a woman has as much right as a man to have sex with as many partners as she likes, without feeling shame.” Sounded like a quote straight out of a Gloria Steinem article.
“Humph.” I took a bite of my pizza and glared, thankful the food in my mouth prevented me from saying anything antagonistic.
“I didn’t ask you out to debate the societal expectations of gender and sexuality.” Gavin ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, this is coming out all wrong.”
“It’s fine, I get it. Like I said, Matt and Nick had the same opinion. And they’re two of my best friends. I’m not going to think less of you because of your man-whoring ways.”
I giggled. Because let’s face it, all three engaged in man-whoring at least once in their lives.
“Former man-whoring.” Gavin winked at me, joining in on my teasing. “Can I ask you a question?”
My mouth full of pizza, I garbled an almost inaudible, “Sure?”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“You mean my therapist?”
He chuckled again. “No, Lou. A romantic partner. Maybe someone back home?”
“Oh, no. Are you kidding me? Of course not. Look at me.” No one ever wanted to date me back home because I didn’t have the correct shaped eyes.
Yet, here was Gavin. And he had no problem finding dates. Though he went to school with other Asians. Being multi-racial, he also got all the positive features from both parents, like the big eyes, folds in his lids, perma-tan, and aquiline nose. And his build resembled a tank.
My eyes were flat and small. Like my chest. No wonder guys weren’t into me. Stop it Louie. Affirmations, not self-deprecation. Dr. Liz was going to have a field day with me next week.
Gavin frowned. “Louie, I’m getting the feeling you have a very distorted image of what you look like.”
Ya think? “I’m working on it.” I took another bite of my pizza and chewed slowly, not wanting to go through the macros of a slice of pizza. “It’s hard growing up different from everyone else. Where blond hair, blue eyes, and curves made up every teenage boy’s wet-dream.”
He opened his mouth, but I waved him off. “You were lucky because you resemble your parents and got to grow up in California. California’s practically the hub of diversity. My family’s as white as they come, and while they meant well, they didn’t always say the most helpful things. Stuff like, ‘We don’t see you as Asian, just our sweet beautiful Louise.’
“They had good intentions, but they were basically telling me repeatedly, in order to be sweet and beautiful, I couldn’t be Asian. They had never acknowledged the one feature everyone else kept slamming in my face. Trust me, I tried to pretend I was white, but my stupid mirror wouldn’t let me forget. No one did.”
No, they taunted me, and made stupid racist jokes and slanted their eyes at me. I fixated on the road, choking back the pain. I shook my head, embarrassed I revealed too much to him.
And fuck, I lost the fight with my tear ducts. I sniffed, and the unwanted moisture rolled down my face.
“It crushed me.” This was why I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. I wouldn’t be able to deal with all the emotional crap and whatever other shit might surface during therapy. Internally, I shook my head. Nope. Not ready.
“Louie.” Gavin leaned across the table and wiped a tear with his thumb. My head jerked back in reflex.
Devastated I lost it in front of him, the napkin in my lap became the security blanket I used to wipe away any incriminating dampness. “Ignore me, I’m lame-o. It’s totally cool. I’m good. How are you?” Yep, I successfully solidified my place in the annals of bonafide crazy.
Gavin leaned back in his chair, resting his folded hands on his stomach.
“I’m good. Though my childhood wasn’t always ideal either. I didn’t get made fun of because I’d beat the shit out of anyone who tried teasing me. But living at home wasn’t easy.” Gavin clenched his teeth, while the side of his jaw twitched.
“Right, why didn’t you want to go home?” I pulled myself together and felt less vulnerable when the topic shifted from me to him.
Gavin placed his napkin on the plate in front of him and sighed. “I had a sister n
amed Monica, two years younger than me. She had some issues with her thyroid, called Cushing’s syndrome, and as a result, carried more weight on her frame than was normal.
“We didn’t figure out what caused her weight gain until she was almost a teenager, but by then, the kids had already bullied her with fat jokes. I was young and did my best to avoid her at school. And I couldn’t stand my parents’ badgering me all the time to be there for her, like a shackle.”
Gavin wiped his face several times. “Once we realized everything, I did my best to be there for her. She wanted nothing to do with me.” A pregnant pause. “And then she took her life. She was only fourteen.”
“Shit.” I didn’t know what else to say, because this sounded nothing like the Gavin I imagined.
“Yeah. Shit. I should have been there to protect her, and I didn’t. Instead I was a self-centered stupid ass punk. I spent the rest of my high school years trying to avoid my parents’ disappointment, and the guilt I felt every time they fucking looked at me.”
Gavin shifted his attention to the pedestrians meandering on the sidewalk. “I hope you’ve tossed your shitty pedestal away.” His voice detached. Abruptly he stood up and tossed two twenty-dollar bills on the table. “Sorry, Louise. I gotta go.”
My nose prickled, and a lump formed in my throat. I nodded, watching until his figure retreated beyond my view. Because, crap, we were both a bit unstable, and I didn’t have the strength to stop us from toppling. I had barely enough stamina to keep myself steady. I wasn’t proud of my decision, but I couldn’t go running after him, either. Supporting him intimidated me.
I placed one foot in front of the other until I made it home, flustered by memories of Gavin’s presence in my room the night before. I wouldn’t be able to cope with a relationship yet. Not if it hurt like this when we weren’t even officially dating.
Chapter 11
After I had made it home from lunch Friday afternoon, I executed the motions of a college student doing homework and song-writing before I collapsed on my bed. The weekend had been a blur, and I spent my next therapy session talking about Gavin and his mood swings.
We still hadn’t begun EMDR because we addressed my freak-out based on said man. At least I had finished my therapy homework and would be ready to start EMDR the following week.
Dr. Liz said my avoidance of Gavin reinforced how important it was to focus on my abandonment issues, and the harassment I faced as a child.
My therapist was right. I dreaded the imminent pain, which illustrated why we couldn’t put off dealing with the trauma any longer
“Okay, Dr. Liz. Next week. I promise I’ll be ready.” I slung my purse across my shoulder and slipped both arms into the straps of my backpack, already itching to get to class.
“Louise, think of this as another tool we can use to help with your healing. It’s not designed to prolong pain. Contrary to popular belief, therapists aren’t sadists.”
“I know. I’m scared. There, I said it.” I faced the door, my hand clutching the doorknob.
“It’s normal to be afraid. There’s a lot there, Louise, and it comes from a place of vulnerability. But being able to address it will only make your center stronger and make you more capable of nurturing yourself.” Dr. Liz remained seated in her chair.
“I know. It still doesn’t take away the fact I’m nervous.” I turned toward her and produced a tight-lipped smile. It was the closest I got to feeling confident, though she had never steered me wrong before. I’d ignore my insecurity and continue to trust her.
“Talk to him, Louise.” Her final words of wisdom reverberated in my ears, while I power-walked through campus to make it to my class on time.
My purse buzzed. Text message from Gavin:
Gavin: Are you at home? On campus?
Another buzz.
Gavin: Can I come see you?
Me: I’m on my way to class. Can we chat later this week?
Gavin: Tonight?
I checked my calendar and saw there was nothing after 6pm.
Me: 6:30 work?
Gavin: See you soon.
After dinner, I locked myself in my room again. Apparently, Dr. Liz’s appointment took a little extra energy, and my body fell into a semi-sleep state. A light tapping on my door, followed by Sierra popping her head in to say—“Hey, Lou. Gavin’s here. You ready to see him?”—awoke me.
I removed the crust from the corners of my eyes and nodded. “Yeah, give me a sec.”
A few minutes later Gavin appeared. My guess, he wanted to talk about what happened at lunch last Friday.
“Louie, I’m sorry. I got pissed at myself, and it killed me to see the disappointment in your eyes.”
I barely lifted my lips. “Gavin, I’m not disappointed in you. I’m sure it was hard, but you can’t blame yourself for your sister’s death.” It didn’t escape my notice he tended to run away rather than stick it out. But he stayed with me.
His eyes went hard, and his fists clenched at his sides, something he seemed to frequently do when angry. “No, you don’t get it. I abandoned her when she needed me the most. I only cared about being popular, and I did what I could to ignore her. I’m essentially at fault.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to say anything to make you change your mind. But I hope you figure out someday soon it was ultimately your sister’s choice.” Yes, I channeled Dr. Liz, and she’d be proud of me. “I’m not disappointed.”
Gavin moved to the bed and sat across from me. Something about how he hung his head made me conjure up a few more ounces of courage, and I reached out and framed my palm on the side of his face. The stubble scratched and tickled. I wondered if he had gotten any sleep. He turned his head and pressed my palm to his lips.
I gasped as he swept his lips against my palm, sending shivers up my back. What was I doing? I wasn’t ready for this. But damn, he made me feel things I didn’t think my body was capable of feeling.
He lifted his gaze toward mine. “I know I’m probably not good enough for you. But I promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those assholes who pretended nothing ever happened. I faked enough as a kid and owe it to my sister to bring awareness about bullying and teenage suicide.” He combed his hand through his hair and groaned. “Shit, I sound like a fucking PSA.”
I gawked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding? How did my weird antics and baggage not have you screaming bloody murder in the opposite direction?”
Still holding my hand, Gavin kissed it again. “You are weird. But you make me laugh. For some reason, I know this sounds corny, but you give me hope. I know we’ve only known each other a month, and I’m getting the better deal out of this. But hey, I’m a selfish bastard and I want to see where this will go, if you’ll have me.” A tiny smile escaped his lips as he maintained his hold on me.
Shut the door. I gave him hope? Definitely a step up from interesting and odd duck. And he couldn’t stay away from me?
If anything, he was getting the short end of the stick. Only, he didn’t know it yet. Because once the details of my crazy time came out in the open, he’d realize his mistake. No dude wanted to take on someone’s recovery from addiction.
Fear fed the skeptical part of my brain already determined to let Gavin go. As soon as he found out about my past, he’d be hightailing away from me at mock speed. It wouldn’t be fair to him and he deserved someone who had their shit together.
“And, I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you.”
My eyes widened with his confession. Holy hell, it was coming. A real kiss and I had no idea how to stop it, or how to make it better because I knew how terrible I’d be. Still, how nice it would be to finally kiss someone I found attractive. Although relationships frightened me, I ached to experience a real kiss. One little kiss couldn’t hurt,
could it?
“Please tell me you’re feeling this, too,” he urged.
I became acutely aware of the soft brush of his lips against my temple and I held my breath. Gavin gently lifted my chin and forced me to confront the chemistry between us, causing my teeth to feast on my bottom lip, and leave an imprint.
“Louie?” Gavin scoured my face for a response. I couldn’t say anything. I shut my eyes and let myself think about what might happen if I said yes. Yes, to being with him. And then I shut down. Because I wasn’t brave enough to handle rejection if it didn’t work out.
Me and my stupid abandonment issues sabotaging any possibility of finding love. But a potential kiss. There was no denying I was attracted to him.
And, Schnikes, what happened if he wanted more than a kiss? Would I freak out? Die of embarrassment? Dr. Liz said I would never be ready until I stopped analyzing and allowed myself to let go.
I opened my eyes again. My heart leapt, but I had to say something. Right now, the most pressing issue? The pending kiss. “Gavin, I have to tell you something.”
His chin tilted down as he waited for my confession.
I grimaced. “Remember I told you I wasn’t very experienced?”
“With dating?”
“And everything that kinda goes with it?” Lordy, how do I tell a guy that I don’t know how to kiss, let alone anything else beyond first base?
“If you’re worried about how good you’ll be in bed, trust me, I’m sure you’re perfect.”
Shit, Gavin wasn’t making this easy. Again, how does one come out and say I suck because I’ve never properly kissed anyone, let alone had sex?
“I’m not over-exaggerating. I haven’t had a lot of experience at all with, you know.”
