by M. C. Decker
“Calm down, Brooke. I don’t have a problem. I’ve just been busy the last few days, that’s all. I was pretty upset after the Yanks lost and I had to hash over a few things.”
“Hash over what, exactly? And, you still didn’t answer my second question.” I barked back.
“Uh, um, that’s just a friend of Mark’s,” Jay said with hesitation.
“Yeah, OK, whatever, what did you need to think about? Does it involve us?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, um, Brooke … I think we need to take a break. And, before you go all crazy, or start crying on me, just hear me out, OK?”
I was silent for a minute … waiting for the tears to brim around my eyes, but they never came – not right away, anyways. “Sure, talk.”
“Well, for a few months I’ve been wondering where our relationship was headed. I mean, after all this time, we should be talking marriage, right? I just wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted … or, maybe, what you wanted. We never really talked about it, until I came up with the World Series plan. I figured if the Yankees won the Series, then it was meant to be. You were meant to be my wife. But, they lost, Brooke. Don’t you think that is fate’s way of stepping in and telling us not to get married?”
“I’m sorry, are you fucking kidding me? Are you breaking up with me because of some lame-ass fate, excuse? Why can’t you just use your brain for once, Jason? Do you love me? I mean you’ve told me you love me for the last five years. Has it all been a lie?” I questioned accusingly.
“No, it wasn’t a lie, Brooke. I did love you … maybe I still do. I just need a break. I don’t know that it has to be permanent, but we need to cut all ties for awhile, anyways. I just need some time to figure things out,” Jay replied pathetically.
“There’s someone else. Isn’t there? Just tell me the truth, Jay.”
He hesitated a minute before answering in the faintest whisper … “Yes.”
With his declaration, the tears that didn’t originally come poured out in a flood. I couldn’t help the loud sob that escaped my lips. “Ho-w, cou-could yo-you do –thi-this to me”? I managed to squeak out in between sobs.
“It just happened, Brookie. I do love you. I guess I’m just not in love with you anymore. I need to spend some time with someone else. You’re the only girl I’ve ever been with and I’m just not sure if I’m ready to commit to one person for the rest of my life. Maybe this break is what we need right now to know if we’re meant to be together.”
My tears had subsided for the time being, and now all I felt was rage building up inside. “Let me tell you something, Jason. I had the opportunity to cheat on you, too. But, I didn’t because I LOVE you. I turned down a great guy and maybe we could have been good together, but now I will probably never know. Your selfishness most likely ruined that chance for me. So, thanks for that,” I sarcastically spat out.
“And, no, this break isn’t for us to determine if we’re meant to be together. If you choose her over me, then I already know we aren’t meant to be together. If you choose her over me, then we are done, Jason … forever. So, here’s my ultimatum; do you want her, or me? You can’t have us both.”
He was silent for what could have been just a few seconds, but, after my ultimatum, it seemed like minutes, or even hours – it was so deafening.
“Never mind, don’t answer. Your hesitation tells me everything I already need to know. Goodbye, Jason. Thank you for the memories. I hope you have a nice life.”
Before letting him get another word in, I hung up the phone and wrote the final chapter of that portion of the book that was my life.
Was I a horrible person for seeking out Rich, just minutes after breaking up with Jay? After spending the last five years of my life loving one person and even wanting to be his wife, you’d think I would be a little more torn up about this. Instead, I was about to walk out of my dorm room to find Rich and accept that dinner invitation that I should have accepted weeks ago.
I quickly ran to the bathroom to blot my red eyes and tear-stained face. I patted on some concealer and added a dab of lip gloss before quickly tossing on my favorite Spartan sweatshirt – the same one I was wearing when Rich asked me out the first time. Unfortunately, the weather had turned cold as it was nearing late October in Michigan and I couldn’t just step into my go-to flip-flops. I sat down to pull on my socks and running shoes before heading out the door to find Rich.
I took the chance that he might be working on his weekly sports column as I made my way to the student union. I didn’t want to wait for the elevator, so I ran up the four flights of stairs to the top floor of the building. I was slightly winded as I entered the Eagle’s office.
At first, I didn’t notice him as the lights were dimmed, but on scanning the room, I noticed him sitting on the couch with his long legs up and his laptop resting on his knees. He had a small radio playing ‘80s classic rock set up in the corner. He looked relaxed with his wire rims covering my favorite pair of eyes, and wearing faded, denim jeans and a Detroit Tigers sweatshirt. Great – another baseball fan, I thought to myself.
He was humming along to Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn,” as I cleared my throat to gain his attention. He looked slightly startled by my sudden presence, but flashed me a smile anyways.
“Hey, Brooke. You OK? I didn’t expect to see anyone else up here this evening. What’s going on?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a really long night and I was hoping I would find you up here, actually.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“I, uh … I just broke up with my boyfriend, or rather he broke up with me.”
“Oh, Brooke, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Come here and sit down.”
He quickly swung his legs off the couch and sat his laptop on the side table as he patted the couch and gestured for me to take a seat next to him.
I went and nestled into the cushion next to Rich. His perfect scent overcame me; I so badly wanted to plant my lips on his. Rich moved in and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me even closer to him. Snuggling into the crook of his arm, I rested my head on his shoulder. He leaned and pulled me back, as I lifted my feet onto the couch.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, while beginning to stroke my hair.
“He’s just a jackass. He was going to propose to me if the Yankees won the World Series; as you probably already know, they lost. So, instead of proposing to me, my boyfriend of over five years dumped me.”
“Fuckin’ Yankees.”
I broke into hysterical laughter. “Thanks, Rich. I needed to laugh. You always seem to know what to say to bring a smile to my face. … This may seem too soon, but do you want to grab that dinner sometime,” I asked.
“Brooke, you know I’d love to, but I don’t want to be your rebound, sweetheart. Take some time for yourself and then decide if it’s really me that you want. I’ll wait.”
I couldn’t argue with him because, truth be told, he was probably right. I did need some time – time to find Brooke. I hadn’t been single since before high school and I needed to find my place in the world – a place without Jay and, unfortunately for right now, a place without Rich Davis.
I cuddled with Rich for awhile on the couch while we listened to several ‘80s power ballads. We laughed at the memories of the big hair and brightly colored spandex.
“Hey, how about we watch a movie? It might help take your mind off a certain ‘jackass,’” Rich suggested with a laugh.
The staff had purchased a TV and VCR for the Eagle’s office the previous year. We kept a collection of movies, mostly featuring journalists, to watch during our downtime.
“Sure, that sounds like a great idea. What do we have over there?”
Rich walked over to the cabinet and pulled out The Pelican Brief, but I had another movie in mind.
“How about Up Close & Personal,” I asked with a pouty face.
“Fine, you’re the one who’s had the rough night. I�
�ll let you pick, but only this once,” he replied. “Besides, I can’t really complain about watching Michelle Pfeiffer for two hours,” he added with a wink.
I lightly punched him in the arm before we sat back down on the couch. I quickly snuggled myself into his body once again and we watched the movie without saying too much.
“Maybe journalism isn’t such a safe career choice,” I remarked, as I watched Michelle Pfeiffer’s character fight for her freedom.
“Any profession has its risks, Brooke, besides, not all outlets cover such hazardous assignments.”
“I know. It’s just a movie, anyways. Not like this kind of stuff actually happens in real life,” I responded.
As the movie ended, I couldn’t see past my tears as the credits scrolled down the screen.
“Wh – Why did Robert Redford have to die – die at the end,” I said between sobs.
Rich pulled me closer into his side, “Don’t cry, Brooke – remember what you said, ‘it’s just a movie.’”
“I –I know, but it’s so – so sad,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Promise me that you will never become a foreign correspondent. I can’t stand the thought of losing you that way.”
“Brooke, don’t take offense to this, but I think you are just overly emotional right now. But, if it makes you feel better, sweetheart, I promise I won’t become a foreign correspondent,” he reassured me.
It was getting late and I had an early morning class the next day, so I reluctantly pulled myself from Rich’s hold.
“What time is it? I didn’t wear my watch and I forgot the clock here needs a new battery.”
“About eleven,” he answered, looking down at his watch.
“Crap, I was supposed to meet Cassidy in the library three hours ago. I didn’t realize I’d been up here that long. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. You probably had work to finish. Anyways, I should get back to my room before Cass sends a search party out for me.”
“I’ll walk you.” He didn’t mean it as a question. He was walking me back to my room whether I wanted him to, or not. In this case, though, I very much wanted him to.
After just a short distance, we made it back to my door and Rich scooped me into his arms once again. I could tell that he wanted to taste my lips against his as much as I did, but neither of us made the move toward each other. We both knew we needed to wait, if there were to be any future for us.
Rich and I didn’t see much of each other outside of class and our duties with the Eagle. Several months passed and the holidays came and went. I spent the month-long winter break back home with my parents. My mom was pleased to know that I had broken up with Jay. While most of my friends loved Jay, my mom was never his biggest advocate. Other than Cassidy, my mom was my best friend and her opinion mattered, but I just couldn’t understand her problem with Jay … until now. I suppose a mother’s intuition is always right. I appreciated the time I spent at home. Ever since I moved to Kalamazoo, I hadn’t been able to spend much time with my folks. We had always been close, probably because I had been their spoiled-rotten , only child.
This Christmas hadn’t been any different. My mom took me shopping before the big day and bought me a bunch of new clothes and even threw in a few “toys.” I was so excited to take my new DVD player back to campus to show Cass.
After the holidays, the winter seemed to drag along as it always did. Rich and I hung out casually a lot, once we returned to campus following the winter break. Although I was disappointed that our relationship seemed to be going nowhere, I had hopes that things would soon change.
We would often spend hours writing articles, studying and preparing research papers, while locked away in the Eagle’s office together. We talked about everything from our classes to our families to the conflict in the Middle East. We would laugh and sometimes even cry together. OK, I was the one usually crying on his shoulder, but I tried to avoid scaring him away with too much personal drama. In a way, Rich Davis had become one of my best friends in just a matter of a few short months. I often wondered if he would become anything more than just that.
My mid-March birthday finally arrived. Cassidy had big plans to help me celebrate my twenty-first in style. She had invited a group of our closest friends and sorority sisters out to celebrate at Monaco Bay, the hottest bar near campus. I decided to send Rich a message over Instant Messenger to invite him to, what would probably end up being, my first legal, drinking marathon.
Hey, Rich … The girls and I are about to head out to Monaco Bay to celebrate my roommate’s and my twenty-first. You want to tag along?
Rich: Sure thing, Babbling Brooke. I wouldn’t miss watching you make a drunken fool of yourself. ;) I’ll meet you lovely ladies there in twenty.
Ugh! You know I hate it when you call me that!! It’s my birthday and you have to be NICE to me! ;) See you soon. Smooches.
Rich: Fine, no Babbling Brooke comments – tonight! But, I am entitled to give you 21 birthday spankings, pretty lady! ;)
For some reason, I suddenly felt my nerves begin to tingle over my entire body. My brow and hands began to sweat and butterflies began taking up residence in my tummy. The thought of Rich spanking me was really getting me worked up inside. Why was I getting nervous about Rich? Was I ready? It had been over four months since the breakup with Jay. I think my nervousness was my body telling me that I was really ready for this … whatever “this” was between Rich and me.
Cassidy helped me rummage through my closet to find the perfect outfit to celebrate my twenty-first.
“Sophisticated, yet flirty,” she said, as she handed me the emerald green tank top and skin-tight, black pants.
I paired this ensemble with a jean jacket and black boots since it was still a chilly March evening. I then straightened my hair and put on some light makeup before going back into our room. Cassidy was just finishing up getting herself ready for the evening.
“Oooh la la. Look at you, birthday girl … you are gonna get laid tonight,” she declared with a wink.
“Shut up, Cass. I haven’t even kissed Rich yet. I very much doubt we’re going to have sex … tonight.”
“Whatever you say, Brookie. Now let’s go get you drunk.”
“Thanks for waiting a night to celebrate your twenty-first. I’m glad we can do this together. Although, I must say, I’m a bit surprised you didn’t bring a beer home last night to rub it in my face.”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself, Brookie. I stopped at the bar and downed a few shots while you were working on the Eagle, last night.”
“Oh, I see … So much for waiting to party with your best friend,” I replied sarcastically.
She linked her arm with mine as we walked out the door and the few blocks to Monaco Bay.
I bellied up to the bar with a bunch of my closest girlfriends as the bartender mixed me my first cocktail on the house. I don’t remember what name he gave it – some house special. It had been nearly twenty minutes when Rich strolled in with one of his buddies – always punctual that Rich Davis.
“Hey there, birthday girl. Can I buy you your next drink? I know, how about a shot?” As Rich was talking, I felt him slide up behind me and place his arm around my shoulder while his buddy took the open seat next to mine.
“Sure Rich, I’m kind of new at this … a shot … virgin. I guess you could say. Surprise me with something.”
“Oooh, I get to pop your cherry, do I?”
I couldn’t help but contain my giggle at his innuendo.
“Can I get four tequila shots over here,” Rich yelled to the bartender.
“Comin’ right up.”
“Tequila? Are you trying to get me drunk, Davis?”
“Brooke, it’s your twenty-first birthday. Of course, I’m trying to get you drunk, sweetheart.”
The bartender slid us our four tequila shots and Rich grabbed the salt, poured some on his wrist and licked it before passing me the shaker. I followed his lead and did the same before he handed me
the small shot glass filled to the rim with Jose Cuervo.
I closed my eyes and plugged my nose before I put the glass to my lips and took a small sip. Even that one small sip left me gagging and gasping for air. I heard Rich laughing hysterically at my troubles in between my frantic gasps.
“What the hell are you doing, Brooke? Let me show you how it’s done.”
He brought the glass to his lips and with one quick movement swallowed the entire contents of the glass before slamming it back down onto the bar. He then quickly picked up one of the lemons that accompanied the shots and sucked it between his lips. Oh how I wish I was that lemon.
“Now … you do it – just like that.”
“I can’t chug it like that … It’d kill me!”
“Stop being a pussy, Brooke. Take the damn tequila shot like the feisty woman that I know you are.”
“Fine.” There he goes infuriating me again. I couldn’t let Rich Davis call me a pussy … not unless he’s referring to sinking his rock-hard cock into it.
I tilted my head back and dumped the warm liquid into my mouth. I didn’t gag this time and felt it slide down the back of my throat as heat radiated throughout my body.
“Thata girl,” Rich cheered, as he slammed back his second shot and slid mine, along with the rest of the lemons, across the bar in my direction.
Just as I was finishing two more tequila shots that Rich had shoved in front of me, I heard Cass sneak up behind us.
“Be careful with that tequilllllllla,” she slurred. “It’s a sneaky bitch. One minute you’re dancing like a sexy mutha and the next you’re on the ground pantless and making out with a shoe. And, let’s just hope in your case the shoe’s name is Rich effin’ Davis.”
“Oh my gawd, you are SO wasted! What are you even talking about? Go get some water, hooker!” I shouted over the booming music.
