Troy’s Possibilities

by Rodney Strong

  ‘Ems, please…’

  She shook her head. ‘Elissa was relying on you to be a nice guy. I told her you were a nice guy. I told her you would never hurt her, and she believed me. Hell, I believed me, so you have one shot to redeem yourself. Tell me what happened.’

  The light from the windows behind cast her face in shadows and stung my eyes. I dropped my eyes back to the drink in front of me. ‘I’ll be bad for her,’ I said weakly.

  She slammed her hands on the table, causing me to jump. ‘Bullshit,’ she hissed. ‘Fucking bullshit.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘Fucking bullshit,’ she repeated. ‘Why are you always putting yourself down? It’s getting old, Troy.’

  Tears appeared without warning, running silently down my face. ‘It’s true, Ems. I’ll be bad for her. I’m bad for you. I –‘

  ‘What?’ she said, anger sharpening her voice.

  ‘I have too many ghosts.’

  ‘What the hell does that even mean?’

  Words stumbled and caught on my teeth, none willing to escape into the world. I shook my head.

  A chair scraped as she stood up. ‘Fix this, Troy. Fix it now or…’

  There was something ominous in the words she left unspoken.

  ‘Just fix it. I’m going back to work.’

  She left me nursing the glass of water and a shattered soul.

  A little while later I managed to stand up, without much protest from head or stomach, and staggered into the bathroom. The mirror drew me forward, the refrain from Snow White slipping through my brain: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the biggest dickhead of them all? The answer was in the red eyes and the face that wore all those Possibilities. The cracks and flaws were sharper, harsher in the artificial light. Today, more than any other day I could remember in this life or any of the Possibilities – today I was the moon.

  Something bubbled inside me, and the longer I stared into the mirror the stronger the feeling got. The mirror was the beach, and what does the moon do to the beach?

  Raising my hands up, I slammed both fists into the glass. Nothing happened, other than a jolt through my knuckles and through my wrists. I slammed them again, and again, felt a crack and joyfully thought it was glass, but it was only a bone. Again, again, hammer, slam. There, a tiny crack in the glass. Redoubling my efforts, blood smearing the glass, more cracks appearing. Sweat appeared on my forehead, slipping into my eyes, stinging them.

  I blinked it away.

  The one where she runs

  And I was sitting in my car staring into the rear-vision mirror, the engine running. Through the window I could see Cat’s front door closed against the world.

  A quick glance at my watch confirmed it was 6.30pm, date time. My fists ached with phantom pain from the Possibility. I expected them to be covered in blood but the skin was unmarked. I wiped away sweat that wasn’t there, then put the car in park and turned off the engine.

  The most disturbing part of the Possibility was Emily’s reaction. It might have been deserved, but still seemed excessive, and I made a mental note to ask her if she was all right. Shame and a desire not to have Emily ever look at me like that again was enough to dampen the doubts. Taking a deep breath, I opened the car door, at precisely the same time as my phone beeped.

  It was from Cat and it wasn’t a where-are-you message.

  Sorry, can’t do it. Talk to you tomorrow. Don’t hate me.

  I didn’t know what to think. Considering the Possibility I’d just lived, and how close I’d come to bailing, it was hard to get upset with Cat, but I still felt disappointed.

  K, went my reply. It was childish not to send more, a part of me knew that – the response should have said, No problem, talk to you soon. Let her know it wasn’t an issue. But the pissed-off part of me was in control of my fingers and that’s all they would let me type. Let her stew on that, I thought vindictively.

  Turning on the engine, I took one more glance at the house, and saw a curtain twitch, knew she was behind it – possibly wondering what the one letter actually meant, and maybe feeling terrible. Fuck, I thought, picked up my phone, and sent a follow-up message. No problem, talk soon.

  Feeling better for her and worse for me, I left, the drive back home seeming to take forever.

  Emily was sitting in the lounge when I walked into the house. ‘What did you do?’ she asked.

  ‘Why do you assume it was me?’

  She gave me a look that said of course it was my fault.

  ‘She cancelled when I got to her house.’

  ‘Really? Huh.’ Emily got up and left the room.

  I’d expected more, so I followed her into the hallway and through to the kitchen where she picked her phone up from the counter. Manicured fingers flew over keys and seconds later a message was sent. Immediately a response came back.

  She studied it for a moment then looked at me with a mixture of pity and apology. ‘You need to give her more time, Troy.’

  ‘I don’t need to do anything.’

  ‘Don’t be a dick.’

  ‘Okay, so I give her more time. We’ve already had two pre-dates – what’s a little more time?’

  ‘Exactly, she wants this. She’s just scared,’ Emily said.

  I sighed. ‘What do you want for dinner?’

  She studied my face, and didn’t seem satisfied. ‘It’s important you know I know you changed the subject, but I’ll allow it.’

  ‘You’ll allow it? What are you, a judge now?’

  ‘I am your superior in every way,’ she replied with a toss of her hair. ‘Now make me some of your pasta, and don’t go heavy on the garlic – I’m not trying to repel vampires.’

  She perched on the edge of the bench and watched me as I worked, putting a pot of water on the stove to heat, and chopping vegetables. It was a comfortable, normal scene in the flat.

  ‘What if more time isn’t enough for her?’ I asked, crushing cloves of garlic, then dumping them into a hot frying pan.

  ‘It will be,’ she replied. There was something steely in her voice that caused me to glance up. It wasn’t the same reaction to the last Possibility, but something was definitely bothering her. I got the sense that Cat and me being together was important to her.

  ‘Ems, what’s going on?’ She didn’t reply as I added the vegetables to the sizzling pan. ‘Ems?’

  ‘Nothing’s going on, Troy. Now shut up and cook me dinner.’

  I leaned over the pan to get a whiff of the fragrant smell, and steam hit me in the face, causing me to blink.

  The one where we both ran

  And I was sitting in my car again. What the fuck? This had never happened to me before – to experience so many Possibilities so quickly. I was used to them taking months, years, lifetimes, not hours. It’s like the universe was throwing everything at me, trying to stop Cat and me from having this date.

  Looking at the rear-view mirror wasn’t worth the trouble – the reflection wouldn’t be any different to the last two times.

  Who was I to argue with the universe? I sent an apology text to Cat and drove aimlessly for an hour, exploring backstreets on autopilot. Outside the world turned, life went on, people dated, fell in love, or into bed. Cat didn’t reply.

  After procrastinating as long as I could, I pointed the car home, parked and went into the house. Emily was watching TV. I flopped down next to her, mentally preparing for the barrage about to come.

  ‘I’m sorry, Troy,’ she said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Cat texted me. Said she couldn’t go through with it.’

  I checked my phone. There was nothing from her. ‘But she didn’t say anything to me.’

  ‘No, she went to a friend’s house. Her dad was supposed to tell you. Didn’t he?’

  Confession time. She couldn’t be pissed at me if both Cat and I bailed. It was almost funny. So I told her what I’d done, or not done.

  She shook her head in disgust. ‘You two. What the hell am I going
to do with you?’

  ‘Ask Cat. That’s the second time she’s bailed on me.’

  She looked confused, and I remembered the last time had been a Possibility. ‘Counting pre-dates,’ I added.

  ‘You both need your heads slapped,’ she said bitterly, abruptly standing up and storming out of the room.

  Seriously, what was her problem? It was true though, we both probably needed our heads slapped. This was getting too hard, and it shouldn’t be this much work getting together with a woman. But now I was home, in the safety of familiarity, I had doubts about my doubts. Why did I leave Cat’s house? Why didn’t I just get out of my car and walk to the front door? All the reasons for running seemed immaterial now, inconsequential. The universe? Fuck the universe. Kelvin was right – it was time to fight for what I wanted, what I needed.

  A warm feeling spread through my stomach at this revelation. I blinked.

  The one with the actual date

  And I was sitting outside Cat’s house. Without hesitation I got out of the car and strode to the front door. It swung inwards before I could knock, and for a moment I thought it was an automatic door, not seeing anyone standing in the hallway. Then Cat appeared from behind the door and my step faltered. She was stunning. Her hair flowed over her shoulders like silk, blonde contrasting against the dark blouse and black skirt. Black heels completed the outfit.

  She laughed at my expression. ‘Either you’re trying to catch flies or you like what you see,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t like flies – too many carbs – and you look amazing. I feel like a servant standing in front of the queen.’

  She smiled slyly. ‘You are, boy. If you remember that we’ll get along famously. Now escort me to the carriage.’

  I gave a mock bow and held my arm out for her. She placed her hand regally on top of my arm and we glided to the car in royal fashion. After I opened the door for her she kept up the game by sitting down, then swinging her legs into the foot well. By the time I got into the driver’s seat her belt was done up and she was looking at me expectantly.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘Drive on, servant.’

  ‘You know they used to overthrow the monarchy,’ I said darkly.

  ‘You wouldn’t overthrow me, would you?’ she asked sweetly. When I glanced over she batted her eyelids.

  ‘Oh, my God. This is going to be a long night.’

  She laughed. ‘But hopefully a memorable one.’

  Shaking my head in resignation, I set off for the restaurant.

  Dinner was a blur of laughter, and pasta, and more laughter. No alcohol by mutual consent – me because I was driving, her because she wanted to remember every detail although I suspected a deeper meaning. Before we knew it two hours had passed and we were walking back to the car. The only spoilt moment was when hurried footsteps behind us made her shrink into me, laughter dying on her lips. A man brushed past my shoulder, hurrying somewhere, but the sound of his feet, the uncertain, unknown, was enough to trigger Cat’s memories. As he disappeared around the corner without a backward glance she relaxed a little, but stayed close. Her hand found mine and gripped it tight. I squeezed it reassuringly and she smiled weakly.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘For holding my hand? I’m not,’ I replied, deliberately misinterpreting her comment.

  She gave a grateful look – more wattage, less fear.

  ‘Imagine if the press saw us now,’ I said. ‘Royalty consorting with the peasants.’

  ‘I’m prepared to risk the scandal.’

  Just then the skies opened up without warning and we darted into a shop doorway to shelter. In seconds the ground hissed with bouncing raindrops, puddles springing from nowhere. The scene induced a feeling of familiarity, of the first time Cat and I met. The doorway was different, but everything else was similar enough to raise goose bumps. I realised Cat was looking at me.

  ‘Do you believe in déjà vu?’ she asked.

  ‘Sometimes. Why?’

  She shrugged. ‘I have a sense we’ve been here before.’

  The goose bumps erupted into mountains. ‘Maybe we have,’ I joked, ‘in a different lifetime.’

  ‘You think we’re star-crossed lovers? Destined to find each other across multiple lifetimes?’

  ‘Something like that,’ I replied with a grin.

  ‘I need to thank you, Troy.’

  ‘For what – sounding crazy?’

  ‘For being patient. For not running away.’

  ‘I could say the same thing to you.’

  She looked out into the driving rain. ‘I almost did a couple of times.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  With the rain came a drop in temperature. She shivered slightly so I took off my coat and put it around her shoulders. Chivalrous, perhaps, but it also left me cold.

  She gratefully accepted the warmth, then slipped her hand back into mine. ‘I guess I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running from things. That’s not who I was, and it’s not who I want to be.’

  A warm feeling spread through my body, repelling the chill, tingling my fingertips. Cat let out a tiny yelp and snatched her hand away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I got a shock off you.’

  ‘Weird,’ I replied, but honestly, everything about this was weird. What was one more?

  Cat hesitantly reached out her hand again. We connected; no shock this time.

  ‘Very weird,’ she said.

  ‘No quips about us being electric?’

  ‘Well, I’ve got the power?’ She laughed.

  ‘It’s electrifying.’

  ‘Your life is far from static.’

  ‘Okay, I’m out of puns,’ I admitted.

  ‘Then you’d better kiss me,’ she said.

  The mood instantly changed, and electricity was in the air, or at the very least tension. I leaned down and she tilted her head up. Slowly our faces drew together, and I gently placed my lips on hers. They were warm and soft and I wanted to stay there forever. After a few seconds though I pulled away.

  ‘Is that it?’ she whispered in a voice mixed with relief and disappointment.

  I leaned forward and rested my forehead against hers. ‘I don’t want to trigger your flight responses.’ I watched her face as she struggled with the same things – push on and maybe go too fast and wreck things, or hold back and take things at snail pace.

  ‘How’d you get to be so sensitive?’ she whispered.

  ‘Practice,’ I replied truthfully.

  ‘I think my flight responses can handle one more kiss.’

  So we did, and it was longer, and better, and sweeter, with a hint of tongue, and when we broke apart this time we were both disappointed.

  ‘God, I’m going to hate it if you’re right all the time,’ she said.

  ‘I promise to be wrong every now and then,’ I replied.

  ‘Why do I think that won’t be much of a problem?’ she said teasingly.

  With mock resignation, I glanced at the rain falling in ceaseless sheets of cold. ‘This isn’t going to end any time soon. I think we need to make a break for the car.’

  ‘Okay, I’m game,’ she replied, and reached down to pull off her shoes.

  ‘Are you going to give me my coat back?’

  ‘Not a chance, buddy,’ she replied and dashed away laughing.

  I caught up with her at the corner and we splashed our way to the car, delayed in our escape from the rain while I struggled to find the car keys, before remembering they were in my coat pocket, around Cat’s shoulders. By the time we finally got inside we both resembled deep-sea divers, soaking wet and panting from the effort. Wiping the water from my face with a hand only transferred moisture from one place to another. Meanwhile Cat shed my coat and was relatively dry underneath.

  ‘I’m not ready for today to be over,’ she said.

  ‘What are you suggesting?’ I cranked the car heater up to maximum.

  ‘Let’s get you out of
those wet clothes.’ She laughed at the expression on my face. ‘Easy, tiger, you’re not getting lucky tonight, but I don’t want you catching pneumonia on my watch. Let’s swing past your place so you can change, then figure it out from there.’

  It was difficult to argue with the logic, especially since uncontrollable shivers were beginning to wreak havoc on my hands, which made the drive home an interesting one. We made it in one piece, more through luck than skill. Emily was watching some reality show, in front of her a half-empty glass of wine and a half-full bowl of popcorn. She wore her slobby clothes – tracksuit pants, an old T-shirt and slippers. She seemed surprised to see us, and shot me a dirty look as I excused myself to change. She obviously assumed I’d done something wrong.

  After pulling on some dry clothes I emerged into the hallway to catch the sounds of laughter. That couldn’t be good for me.

  A glass of wine now sat in front of Cat.

  Emily grinned up at me. ‘Elissa was telling me how you were a perfect gentleman. Who knew you were capable?’ They both laughed as I dropped into a chair.

  ‘Isn’t the girlie debrief supposed to wait until after the date, not during it?’

  ‘Girlie debrief?’ Cat raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah, you know – where you talk about me, and all the things I did wrong.’

  ‘We could wait until tomorrow, but it’s more fun doing it now in front of you,’ Emily said.

  ‘Oh, joy,’ I said sourly.

  Emily suddenly said, ‘I’m glad you two are finally getting on with it.’

  ‘You sound like the fate of the world rests on us dating, Ems,’ I said.

  She looked a little sheepish, yet defiant at the same time. ‘Not the whole world, just mine.’

  Cat and I looked at each other in confusion.

  ‘Look, forget it.’ Clearly embarrassed, Emily stood up and strode out of the room before we could say anything else.