Seattle Girl

by Lucy Kevin

  Brian broke out into a huge laugh which reverberated down the all-white, shiny hospital hallway. “Fuck-buddies. Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he asked me and I finally broke out into a smile.

  “I don’t think I’m the one who needs to hear it,” I said mockingly. “Maybe you should go back out there and tell ol’ carrot top, though. It might keep her from sticking her tongue down your throat next time she sees you.”

  Brian nodded and gave me a mock-serious look. “Only for you, Georgia. Only for you.”

  *

  Later that day Diane and I were hanging at Café Café, soaking up some sun on the sidewalk when Seth plopped down in the empty chair, all excited.

  “Dang girl,” he said to me. “You have the best boyfriend in the entire fuckin’ world!”

  He grabbed Diane’s lime Italian soda off of the café table and took a huge gulp from the glass.

  “Hey! Gimme that.” Diane slid the glass closer to her edge of the table.

  I ignored Diane and turned to Seth. “You’re totally right, but what are you referring to specifically?”

  “I was walking across campus, and he says, ‘Seth?’ and I was like, ‘Oh yeah, hey Brian.’”

  “Wow, this is riveting so far,” Diane said in a less than impressed manner.

  “Zip it blondie,” Seth said with a grin. “Anyway,” he said, turning back to me, “He was like, ‘Hey what’s been going on?’ and you know how excited I am about Max, right?”

  “Yeah.” Diane and I both nodded.

  “So, for some reason I just started babbling about Max and how happy I was and how I was thinking that now would be a good time to finally come out to my parents but I was still really worried about how they’d react, instead of freaking out about me being gay or acting bored, your boyfriend asked me if I wanted to go sit down by the fountain and talk about it.”

  “He did?” I smiled, thinking about how sweet Brian was.

  “Yup.” Seth nodded happily. “And you know what? He actually helped me feel a whole lot better about how long it’s taking me to tell my parents.”

  I have to admit that for a moment, I was jealous of Brian. Wasn’t Seth my friend? Hadn’t I tried to help him already? But then I told myself to stop being stupid. I had picked a great guy who really appreciated my friends. Score one for me.

  Diane didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I’m still not so sure that Brian’s all that wonderful.”

  I took off my sunglasses and put my drink down. “What are you talking about?” I was surprised by Diane’s attitude towards Brian. “I thought you were really gung-ho about him?”

  She grimaced. “Shit. I should just keep my mouth shut, you know? But I can’t help myself because I love you too damn much.”

  “Keep your mouth shut about what?” A small seed of fear had deposited itself in the pit of my stomach.

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Spill it,” I said.

  First Diane sighed in a really big, over-exaggerated way. “You know how you were at a meeting for the radio station last Friday night?”

  I nodded and she continued. “I was hanging out at that restaurant on Melrose–the one with the big purple cow out in front–and I saw Brian walk in with his arm around some girl.”

  I searched Diane’s face for additional clues she was leaving out. “It was probably just some friend of his that he’s catching up with.” I was trying to be calm about everything and not jump to conclusions.

  “Probably,” she agreed.

  “But?” Seth had a worried look on his face.

  Diane’s perfect features looked slightly pained. “Well, I’m not sure what he normally acts like with his friends, but he seemed really friendly with this girl.”

  “How friendly?”

  She took off her sunglasses and looked me in the eye. “Really friendly.”

  “He’s never given me any reason not to trust him.”

  I was upset about the fact that I had to defend my boyfriend against her accusations. But I was also upset about the fact that I didn’t trust Brian. Not really. Ever since our run in with Tiffany, or whatever the red-head bitch’s name was, I’d felt like something wasn’t quite right.

  Diane leaned over in a rare show of outward emotion and gave me a one-armed hug. “I know and that’s why I didn’t know if I should even bring it up. Do you hate me now?” She was clearly worried that I was going to hold her report against her.

  “Of course not.”

  I gave her the biggest smile I could muster up in the circumstances. Of course, I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but what she told me was bringing some of my doubts up to the surface.

  Brian seemed pretty damn perfect. But what if Brian wasn’t nearly as perfect as he seemed to be?

  *

  That night, Brian and I were having dinner together at his apartment and I couldn’t stop myself from asking about the girl he’d had dinner with on Friday night.

  “Hey, did you see Diane last Friday night?”

  I watched him carefully to see if he looked worried or shocked at the mention of Friday night.

  He looked up from the wok where he was stir frying up some vegetables, his expression clear and blameless. “No. Where’d I miss her?”

  “I think it’s called The Flying Cow.”

  Again, I waited for his reaction.

  “Oh yeah. Did I tell you I was meeting my old friend Cindy for dinner last week?”

  I tamped down on my budding jealousy. “No. You hadn’t mentioned it.”

  He continued to sauté the vegetables as if there was nothing more to the discussion.

  “Who’s Cindy?”

  He looked up at me surprised. “I thought for sure I’d told you about her. We dated for, let’s see, almost three years.”

  “You did?” I was shocked by this revelation.

  “From freshman year through junior year.”

  While he was telling me this, I was sitting on a bar-stool watching Brian cook. I was trying not to freak out. After all, if something was up with his ex-girlfriend, he would have told me about it, right?

  “Why’d you break up?”

  He shrugged. “You know. The usual reasons. We were from different backgrounds and I think she thought she could fix me, or something.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, and figured I’d drop the ex-girlfriend angle for now, and head into the issue of backgrounds–something Brian had been pretty closed mouthed about until now. I mustered up my nerve. “So, um, do you want to tell me about your background?”

  Brian pinned me with an unreadable look from his clear blue eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Taste?”

  He held out a hot slice of carrot. I took a bite and said, “Still kind of hard,” so he turned the heat up a little and continued to stir.

  “What do you want to know?”

  I gave him a little smile. “Let’s see,” I said, as if I was just thinking about it for the first time. “What was your childhood like?”

  A shadow darkened Brian’s face. “Fine.” Then he sighed and admitted, “My childhood sucked.”

  He turned off the grill. “I need a drink. You want a Corona?”

  I nodded and he grabbed one from out of the fridge. I figured the best plan was for me to keep my mouth shut and just let him talk about what was obviously a difficult subject.

  In one long swig, he downed half the bottle. “My mom and dad never really got along. You know, I remember growing up and they were always yelling at each other. And then one day, when she found out my dad was cheating on her, she blew a fuse and went to his office and made a huge scene, breaking things, and threatening him with law-suits and stuff. My dad pretty much shut down after that, but he got custody of me, ‘cause he made all the money. Life was a bitch with him–he used to be in the military and couldn’t deal with the real world-so I would sneak out a lot just to get away from the bastard.”

  “How old were you when they split up?”<
br />
  “Around twelve, I guess. I don’t know, really. I try not to think about it.”

  I put my hand on his arm and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for telling me.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up about a millimeter and then fell back down again. “One night in the middle of winter, I remember my dad had one of his sluts over and they were making noise so I went outside and took an ice-pick to the frozen swimming pool.” He took another long drink and then shook his head. “Man, was he pissed at me.”

  I tried to smile but my face wouldn’t do what I was telling it to and I’m afraid it came out more like a painful grimace.

  “I got him back,” he said.

  “How?”

  “When I was fourteen I slept with one of the women he had been dating.” As he said this he had a look of utter satisfaction on his face.

  “You what?” I was totally shocked by this revelation.

  Brian leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “You sweet, innocent girl,” he said, with a grin. “She was barely older than me. Probably only eighteen or so. Trust me, she had more business doing it with me than with my dad. And besides, she came on to me.”

  Frankly, although I was glad Brian felt comfortable enough with me to tell me about his past, I had already heard more than I wanted to know.

  “Now, tell me about your past,” he said, deftly turning the topic to me and my love life.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Not much to tell really. Given that you were my first and all…” I let my sentence drift off.

  All I could think was, okay, so I’ve been with one guy and almost been with three others. But how many women had Brian slept with? Ten, twenty? More?

  But right when I was on the verge of a serious melt-down, Brian took my hand and pulled me close to him, giving me soft kisses all over my face and neck.

  “I’ve got a good idea,” he said as he nuzzled into my hair.

  “What’s that?”

  “Let’s skip dinner and head straight to desert.”

  And as he pierced me with his big blue eyes, I swear I believed every promise he had ever made to me about how much he loved me, and only me.

  *

  But the next morning as I headed into the studio for my show, I couldn’t shake off a funny feeling about our conversation. It was as if Brian had left out some important details, but I wasn’t sure how to find out which ones they were.

  I had planned to do a show on “Your Worst First Date Ever,” but, as always, once I sat down in front of the mic, my mouth took over my brain.

  “Good morning and welcome to Seattle Girl with Georgia Fulton. I hope everyone is gearing up for a great week. So here’s the question of the day: If you found out your lover was way more sexually experienced than you were, would it bother you? I’m not talking about him having five previous girlfriends and you having two previous boyfriends. More like, he’s slept with the whole phone book and you’ve been pretty picky.”

  A line lit up and I grabbed it. “Good morning. You’re on Seattle Girl with Georgia Fulton. What’s shakin’?”

  “Hey Georgia,” a familiar voice said.

  “Bill? Is that you?”

  “Shoot. Now my cover of anonymity is shot.” He laughed. “I don’t want to ruin your show here, but I couldn’t resist tuning in and giving you a call to say hello.”

  “Glad you did, Bill. Folks, Bill is the reason why I got into radio in the first place.” Embellishing for impact, I said, “I was so in awe of him when he was on the air, I couldn’t resist giving it a whirl myself.” I paused for a moment. “So, since I’ve got you on the line, why don’t you tell me what you think about sex differentials?”

  “Sex differentials?”

  “That’s right. Say your girlfriend has had more sexual partners than you? How do you feel about it?”

  “Geez. I guess, first I’d be worried about whether I measured up or not.”

  “Interesting. What else?”

  “Um, maybe I’d think she was a little slutty.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “I can see that. In fact, I don’t even think it’s a male-female thing. Just simply that there’s a cut off for slutdom.”

  “Exactly. Plus, I guess I’d be wondering why she needed to sleep with so many people. I mean, sure I get the whole wanting sexual satisfaction thing, but what if she was doing it for some sort of validation?”

  Bill had definitely hit on something and I got quiet for a moment. He continued, saying, “Or what if it’s some sort of healing thing for her, but it’s actually backfiring and making her feel even worse?”

  “Damn, Bill, you’re way too deep for 5 a.m.” Laughing I said, “I’ve got to take some of these other callers,” but as I hung up, I was more worried than I had let on.

  *

  Diane, Seth and I went for a road trip to Vancouver the next weekend. Brian was stuck in meetings with his graduate advisors so it seemed like a good enough way to pass the time without him.

  Needless to say, I hadn’t brought up any of my concerns to Brian since the night he’d divulged his past to me. I didn’t want to seem like I was freaking out over nothing, so I tried to push our entire conversation out of my mind.

  After all, I loved all of the time I spent with him. The sex was great and I couldn’t get enough of him. I liked everything about him from his big feet to his cynical sense of humor.

  But in the car with my best friends, I confessed my fears, hoping they could knock some sense into me, and tell me to stop making mountains out of molehills.

  Of course, they did the opposite. Diane looked at me in the rearview mirror of her Lexus SUV. “Sounds to me like Brian is the classic tragic hero.”

  “He’s the classic what?”

  “You know, the guy who seems like he’s got everything rolling along pretty good, but then all of a sudden everything blows up in his face because of some flaw in his own personality.”

  I shook my head and forced a laugh. “Have you been paying attention again in your English Literature class, Diane?”

  “Hello! I’m an English major. Of course I pay attention. After four years I’d say I know more about fuckin’ tragic heroes than anyone else in this car. Take my word for it: from what you described, Brian definitely fits the bill. He’s like straight out of Shakespeare.”

  Trying to rouse some support for my boyfriend, I tapped Seth on the shoulder. “Don’t you think she’s overreacting and making up stuff?”

  Seth turned around to face me. “Look, honey. I know you really like this guy.”

  “I love him!” I protested.

  Seth sighed. “So, you love him. I hear you, but… ”

  I cut him off and said, “I think you guys are being overly melodramatic about his past.”

  They gave each other a look that clearly said I was being a stubborn pain in the ass. But Diane must have been the person elected to the deal-with-our-nutty-friend post, because she looked at me in the rearview mirror again.

  “I guess we both feel sort of bad about the advice we gave you for the last couple of guys you got involved with. You know, how we told you to have a fling, and then you ended up hurt by the way things turned out. So maybe this time we’re being overly cautious.” She paused so I could let her words sink in. “Georgia, all Seth and I are saying is we’re not sure that you can cure Brian and his past.”

  I slumped back into the leather backseat and grunted. I was ever so slightly pissed at my friends for making me feel worse instead of better.

  Even if they were right.

  They were both really nice to me the rest of the weekend, and it worried me.

  I was afraid it was because they were having an easier time facing reality than I was.

  *

  When the three of us got back to campus Sunday night, I headed straight for Brian’s apartment. I had missed him over the weekend, even though it felt like a dark cloud was hanging over us all of a sudden. But when I knocked on his door, there was no answer. It was 10
p.m., but I figured his meetings might have spilled over into the evening. Inwardly I was worried about something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I told myself to stop overreacting and tried to put any irrational worries about what Brian was doing out of my head.

  On my way back to my apartment, I wasn’t paying much attention to anything other than the inner workings of my mind, so when I heard “Georgia!” from behind me, I jumped about four feet into the air and let out an ear-piercing shriek.

  “Sorry, Georgia. I was trying not to scare you, actually.” Holding my hand to my chest, trying to get my pulse to return to normal, I turned around and saw Bill standing in front of me.

  “Bill!” I cried. “It’s you, in the flesh!”

  I looked him up and down. Doing the patented construction worker whistle, I said in my sassiest voice, “Boy, you are looking good!”

  That was the understatement of the century. In the past couple of months since I’d last seen him, Bill had magically transformed himself from a slightly nerdy, almost cute guy, to a man.

  He was still around six feet tall, but his body had filled out and I could see the lines of his biceps through his sweater. His face had even aged–he now had just enough lines on his forehead and around his mouth to look manly–and in the back of my mind it occurred to me that had I been single I might have been interested in him.

  But I wasn’t single, so the point was clearly moot.

  Not that I really would have been interested in him anyway. He was just a great friend, that’s all.

  It was pretty dark out, but I think he may have started blushing a little bit, so I changed the subject. “So, what’s going on?”

  “Well,” he began, “I got a job doing morning talk out at a local station.”

  “Oh my god! You did? Which station?”

  “KLO.”

  “Wow,” I said reverently. “You rock so hard!”

  He gave me a modest grin. “I’m just doing my show on weekends right now.”

  “Who cares? I can’t believe you have a real job, where they pay you to do talk radio. That’s my big dream.”

  “I’m just glad you weren’t my competition. I’ve been listening to you in the mornings.”