David sticks out his hand, “David. Saw you in the play, Menace. Good stuff.”
They shake hands. “Yeah? Thanks man. Jake.”
My mind sends him telepathic orders: Leave, Jake. Please leave.
But he doesn’t hear me. “So you and Amber, huh?” The egomaniac asks, crossing his arms and looming above us, cocky as fuck.
Josh’s hand tightens around mine ‘til it hurts. “Yep. You still studying at Stella Adler?”
“Naw. Been working too much. Just learning on set now.” We all feel the implication of this statement. He’s working. He’s making a living acting.
David’s stomach surprisingly saves the day, or I think maybe Jess kicked him under the table from his jolt. “Well, we’ll catch up with you later. We’re starving so…”
Jakes looks around us and cooler than cool, nods and says, “Right. Right. Well, have at it, then. You all have a good night. Nice to meet you.” He turns to leave and by some miracle he didn’t mention the audition! I’m in the clear. I reach for my glass of wine, exchanging a look with Jess. As I’m about to take a sip, Jake turns and calls loudly, “Oh, Amber! See you at the call back! Spike Jonze. Incredible. Can’t wait!” He gives a fist-pump and turns away.
I freeze, the glass to my lips. I don’t drink. I don’t breathe. I feel Josh’s hand go lax, holding mine like a dead fish. An asshole-liar-girlfriend-jerkhead dead fish.
Jess frowns at me, trying to understand why the air just got putrid. She thinks so well of me that it never occurs to her the gravity of my misdeed, never even enters her mind. David sees and understands something is amiss and rushes to rescues us. “I don’t know about you guys but, that guy’s a dick. Hey Josh, here’s to your commercial, man. National! That’s amazing news.”
Josh’s response is stilted as he says thanks. I bring my glass to theirs, for the group-clink, but Josh downs his Bookers bourbon on the rocks in a single gulp. He puts it down with a loud exhale and a thunk that makes us all exchange glances. The waiter arrives serendipitously and asks, “Ready to order?”
“YES!” Jess, David and I all answer, so loudly that he jumps.
__________________
We managed to get through dinner but when it’s over and Josh and I say goodbye to our friends, we watch them get into a cab, smiling and waving, and Josh turns to me before they’ve even driven off. But he doesn’t look me in the eyes. “I’m tired. Think I’m going to sleep at my place tonight.”
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, if that’s what you want.”
He runs his fingers through his hair and looks down at the sidewalks as he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I hope so,” I say, wishing he’d look up, but not having the guts to ask for anything. “Oh.” Reaching into my bag, I pull out a shiny set of unused keys. “I had these made for you today.”
“Great.” He slides them into his pocket. “Sleep well, Amber.”
“Okay. You too.” He walks away to the corner and hails a cab. Why did one have to come so soon? Maybe I would have worked up the nerve to explain. As the taillights fade down the street, I pull out my phone and call Nicole.
“Hey honey. How was dinner?” she asks, smiling on the other end.
“Bad. You have a minute?”
“Sure. I’m just working on a piece, so I’m alone. What’s up?”
“We ran into Jake Lombardi.”
“Jake two-weeks-in-bed Jake?”
“That’s the one.” I move to the side so a couple holding hands can pass me. They look so happy. I should be them right now. If I wasn’t a dick.
“So? What happened?” she asks.
“Jake made it clear we weren’t just acquaintances by the way he looked at me.” The sidewalk needs a good cleaning. Look at all the gum stuck to it…
“He didn’t! That cocky son of a bitch.”
“Which is why he’s so good in bed,” I admit, ruefully.
“Which is why that’s all he’s good for. Honey, Josh is your man. He loves you. You’re moving in together. So he saw you’re wanted by a hot guy? A little jealousy is good for a man’s get up and go, if you know what I mean. You have nothing to worry about,” she assures me. I’m not sold. I want so badly to tell her what I did. The other layer to this is crucial…
“Nicole?” I ask, silent tears that I will not speak of, fall down my cheeks.
“Yeah, Amb? What is it?” I hear Florence and The Machine, Shake It Out playing in the background. It’s not so easy, Flo.
“I…um…I’m scared.” It’s the truth. It’s just not all of it.
“I would be, too! It’s a scary thing. I hear ya. You know me; I haven’t been in a relationship for three years so I’d be fucking terrified. I’d be running around screaming ‘this isn’t happening! Make it stop!’”
Her delivery makes me laugh, like she meant it to. I suck up my shame. I got myself into this; I can put my big-girl-pants on, and get myself out. “Thanks Nico.”
“Anytime, baby. I’m here for you.”
I quietly wipe my nose with my jacket sleeve and take a deep breath. “Love you.” She doesn’t know I was crying. They never do. I’m the strong one. I have to be.
“And you know I love you.” I can hear her smiling through the phone, can see compassion on her face as if she was right in front of me.
“Okay I can do this.”
“Yes you can.”
“Night.”
“’Night. Call me later, if you need to. I’ll be up late.”
“Okay.”
We hang up and I look up at the sky, the bit of it I can see through the tops of the skyscrapers. There is only blackness. The stars are obscured by the man-made lights of our growing metropolis. I send a little prayer up to them anyway, asking for strength, and for a way out of this for me and Josh. I look down as a cab pulls up and lets someone out to go to the restaurant. I jog over to it, wait for them to pay, and get in. No subway tonight. I just want to go home.
Co-Habitation Day. Yay?
“Honey, do you really think that should go there?” I’m pointing to a poster of Taxi Driver he’s rested by the wall with plans that we’ll hang it. Right here. There is no way that disturbing movie poster is going to be the first thing our guests see when they come over. David would probably love it, but I don’t decorate for David. I liked the movie, don’t get me wrong – it’s a classic and I get it – but it doesn’t exactly spell comfy home.
“What do you mean?” He is covered in sweat and frustration; his jeans still managing to look hot as fuck. I have a thing for men’s legs, and the way they make jeans now, the way they hang and you can see their leg’s outline through the slightly loose fabric, makes me very excited.
I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead to scratch an itch without getting it dirty. “Well, it’s the first thing people will see when they walk in.”
He wipes his brow, “Yeah?” mirroring me as we stand toe to toe.
My baggy open-necked t-shirt falls of one of my shoulders Flashdance-style as I put my hands on my hips, my head cocking to the side so that my blonde ponytail hangs slightly. “Wouldn’t it be better in the bedroom closet?” I smile, knowing that’s probably not going to fly.
“IN THE CLOSET?” He asks, aghast, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head.
“Yeah. In the closet.”
“Wow. Okay. Fine, Amber.”
“You can appreciate it every time you start your day.”
“Nice. Whatever – honey.” That last word he emphasized in a way I do not like. He picks up the poster, staring at me for a second to tell me he is not happy, and then storms past.
“You know Josh, whenever people say whatever, it sounds like they’re saying fuck you, just so you know,” I call out as he walks to the bedroom with his stupid piece-of-shit poster.
“Yeah?” he says from the bedroom.
I cross my arms and say loudly so he can hear me, “And THAT tone just implied you’re fine with it sounding that way…
and that I’m right!”
“Why wouldn’t you be right? Why would this day be different from any other?” he mumbles under his breath.
“I heard that!”
Josh stalks out of the room and passes me to grab a box and disappear into the bathroom with it.
“That box is marked ‘kitchen,’” I tell him, confused.
He pops his head out and demands, “I picked it up and realized I have to take a dump. Is that okay with you?” He shuts the door and to his credit, doesn’t slam it.
I walk and say through the closed door, “Oh, happy day. I’m having so much fun! You???!!”
He doesn’t answer, which is upsetting. Ignoring me is pretty much the worst thing you can do… it drives me insane. All of my gravity leaves me and I float into rage-land. I head to the bedroom and look back to the closed bathroom door, shake my head and against my better judgement, slam the door. I have a temper. This sucks big donkey balls. Truth be told, things have been tense ever since the night he came to my office. And then with last night’s unexpected whammy, well I know I should say something about it, but I’m waiting for him to.
I’m a Taurus. If I were a Capricorn, maybe I’d cave faster.
The security buzzer beeps and it takes everything in my power to stay put. I’m not getting it. I’m sure it’s the movers and he’s the one moving in so he should get it. I even have to tuck my hands under my butt as I sit on the bed and wait. I strain to listen but don’t hear him come out of the bathroom. The buzzer sounds again. I bite my lip. Is he going to get it? I’ll count to three and then I’ll get up and get it myself. One…. Two… BUZZ.
“JOSH ARE YOU GOING TO GET THAT?”
The bathroom door opens and he irately mutters, “Yeah, I got it. I thought you were going to get it. You’re the woman with all the say!”
I jump up and run to the door, open it and look out into the hallway, ready to yell, but there he is, holding the hugest bouquet of lavender and pink flowers that I forgot I ordered as a welcome for him. They’re gorgeous, the largest I’ve ever seen… outside of a funeral.
“Oh wow. Look at those! They’re beautiful!” When I meet his eyes I see the graveness of my error.
He glares from me to the flowers and says, “They’re great. Thanks.” He sets them down on the ground and walks right out the door.
What the fuck.
That’s it. I’m caving. I chase him down the stairs. “Josh! Josh, hang on.” He keeps walking. “JOSH!”
Not stopping he growls, “Amber, I’m really pissed off right now and I just need to think.”
I stop and say weakly, “I love you.”
He freezes on a stair some ways below me. Four long seconds pass before he turns around, surprised. “What?”
I touch the banister to steady myself, terrified, and say it again, “I love you.”
Confusion and relief take turns as he admits, “I love you, too, Amber.”
“Just because we’re fighting, doesn’t mean I don’t love you, okay? I need you to know that.” I reach my hand out.
He comes up the stairs and takes my tiny hand as a tear forms in the corner of my eye. I don’t push it away or try to hide it, for once. He roughly pulls me to him and kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back so hard.
Our mouths separate and he puts his forehead to mine, standing a step below me on the staircase. “Wow. I can’t believe we’re fighting like this on our first day together.”
“Me neither,” I squeak.
“I’m sorry, Amber.”
“No it’s me!! I’m the one who’s sorry!”
“Can I put the poster up in the hallway?”
“No.”
He laughs and gives me a gentle kiss. One of my neighbors – young hipster guy with a fedora, skinny jeans, a scarf and aviator sunglasses – walks up and excuses himself as he passes. Neither Josh nor I, move. I think we’re both afraid the fight will break out again if we let go of each other. “Amber?”
“Yeah?” Our foreheads are still touching and it feels nice. You can’t yell when you’re this close.
“I’m just mad about the film and finding out that you…” he trails off. We both know.
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. Can I explain to him in a way he can understand? “It’s just I… I didn’t…” I search for the words but he finds them first.
“It’s your job. Work is work. You’ve worked really hard to get where you are and if I didn’t get the part, I’m sure you thought it would come between us.”
I’m so relieved! “I did. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“There will be other projects for me. This is a big one and you want to make sure you bring in ‘names’ and people with more credits on their resume. It’s okay.”
“Oh Josh. I’m sorry. You’re a wonderful actor. It’s just that we’re so new and it scares me where it could go, you know, if it went bad? Like… this.”
“Yeah. This sucked really bad. I hate fighting.”
“I hate it, too.”
He pulls back and searches my eyes. “Don’t lie to me again.”
“I promise. Never again.”
He nods again and closes his eyes, bringing his forehead again to rest on mine. I shut my eyes, too. “I don’t want to stop hugging you,” I whisper.
He pauses and kisses me. I answer the kiss more passionately, but he pulls away, gives my hand a small squeeze and walks past me, upstairs. Ouch. Maybe he needs time to process his feelings? I follow him, not speaking as I look at his back, wondering if he can really let it go.
Later with most of his things still in boxes, we go to bed. It’s our first night together in what is now our apartment, but we don’t make love. As he brushes his teeth after me, I change into a cute little blue tank and short shorts combo that I think is sexy, but as soon as we climb in, he rolls over. When I hear his breathing change to how it sounds when he’s sleeping, I can’t help but feel like he’s faking. After about a half hour, when I hear him really fall asleep, I know I was right. Dammit.
We had decided my place was bigger and nicer, and chose here for our home, over his place. But as we lie here in my bed, I wonder if uprooting him didn’t make him feel smaller. My place, my things, and it will take some time for him to feel like it’s his. Especially with us sticking his belongings wherever we can. Finding room. That’s not a fun feeling for him, I’m sure. How can it be?
All of a sudden, I remember.
I crawl out of bed, quietly go into the closet and get out the Taxi Driver poster. With it, I tiptoe out into the hallway, get some double stick tape from a drawer in my kitchen. Since the poster isn’t framed, this will work fine. In front of the door, where he’d leaned it earlier this evening, I pull down a picture of a flower I bought years ago and hang his poster in its stead. My flower photo will look good in the bathroom. Actually it will look better there. Standing back, I take a look at what I’ve done and bite my lip, thinking of course his poster should go here. Make room for your mate, Amber. I mean, really. I can be a huge jerk sometimes. The last couple weeks have been eye opening for me. I always thought myself above doing bad things. Who knew?
When I crawl back into bed, I scoot up to Josh, spoon my body with his and slide my arm around him. Still sleeping, he curves to fit me better and his arm moves and covers mine, his hand pulls mine closer to his body, out of instinct. I breathe in the smell of him and sigh. We’ll get through this. I fall fast asleep to a night full of sweet dreams.
The Next Morning
When I wake up, Josh isn’t in bed. It takes me a minute before I realize yes, we did just move in and he should be here. All the time, now, in fact. As fear hits me that he has moved out and left me while I slept. Why didn’t I set my alarm? Or a booby-trap at the door to wake me if he tried to leave? I can make this right! I’m not a horrible person!!!
My voice trembles as I call out, “Josh?!”
“Yeah?” He pokes his head in through t
he door, his hair bed-head messy. “I’m making a bagel. You hungry? You want one?”
Relief rushes through me and I nod, a big smile spreading fast. “Yes, please.”
He grins. “Cream cheese?”
“Sounds perfect.” I bounce out of bed. “I’m just going to brush my teeth.”
“Cool,” he disappears again and I follow him out the door and head left into the bathroom.
In the mirror I pull my fingers through my long blonde hair to tame it. I widen my blue eyes in an attempt to see if there are any sleepies stuck to the corners. All good. Reaching down without looking, I pick up my toothbrush from the cup on the ceramic tile counter. I open the drawer for the Tom’s of Maine toothpaste but looking down, I see I’ve accidentally grabbed Josh’s toothbrush. I put Josh’s back in the cup to sit with mine. Our toothbrushes resting together look so cute! I grab my toothbrush and call out to my new live-in boyfriend, “How’d you sleep, baby?”
He calls back from the kitchen, “Great! You?”
“Great!” Dare I hope we’re all good?
He shows up in the door. “Amber?” I make a funny noise since my mouth is filled with goo. He leans on the door jam and grins at me. “Thank you for the poster.” I grin back, white froth everywhere. He laughs at me and says, “Hurry up. I’ve got to show you something.” Of course this makes me hurry and run out.
In the area we’ve sectioned off for dining, he’s prepared breakfast for us. “Oh my gosh!” I say as I stand and take it all in! Our little round dining table is covered with bagels, sliced apples, grapes, cream cheese, and glasses filled with orange juice.
“I thought we’d eat, then go grab some coffee and head to Central Park.”
“That sounds like a perfect Saturday.” He tickles me and I giggle and kiss him. “This looks amazing. Thank you!”
“Anything for my girl. You’re looking pretty hot in those shorts. Can they be any smaller?” He smacks me on the ass; his green eyes alight with amusement.
I Love My Side of the Story Page 4
