I turned my attention to the television in time to see two blonde girls, probably no older than twenty-one, making out. They were wearing only bikini bottoms and fondling each other nipples. “‘Girls Gone Wild’. Nice.” Looking around the room, I asked, “Where’s Craig?”
Hope gestured towards the balcony. “Outside. On the phone,” she said.
I followed Hope’s glance and spotted Hille. His head was covered by the hood of a North Face raincoat but it didn’t look like he was on the phone anymore. He saw me looking at him and waved. I waved back, got up from the couch and joined him outside, figuring we should talk.
“Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it”? I said.
“Yeah, it sucks. But we had some great days here. Can’t really complain too much.”
“You have such a positive outlook, Craig.” And there were certainly worse qualities to be found in a soul-mate.
Hille laughed. “Not really. I just fake it well.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say and just stood there awkwardly.
“You all right?” he asked.
My voice shaking, I said, “Actually, will you take a walk with me?”
With a puzzled expression on his face, Hille asked, “In the rain?”
“Yeah, I really want to talk to you.”
“Sure. Do you have a sweatshirt or something? Want me to bring an umbrella?”
“No umbrella. I’ll just grab a hoodie. Be right back.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you on the front stairs,” he said.
I had no idea what I was going to say to him and hoped somehow the words I had spinning around in my head would turn into complete sentences as they left my mouth, circled the air and passed through his ear drums. I brushed my teeth again, grabbed a hoodie and made my way to the front porch where Hille was waiting for me, holding an umbrella. He raised it in the air, smiled and said, “Just in case it starts pouring.”
As we headed down the driveway and made a right turn up the block where I had run a few days earlier, we didn’t say anything. I thought it should be obvious why I wanted to talk to him alone since our conversation the day before had gotten so deep, but figured it was up to me to start. “So, Ryan and I broke up last night,” I said.
Hille stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. “Really? What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. It was my idea.” I resumed walking and Hille followed me.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “I thought you really liked the guy. You seemed so happy.”
“I was happy. Ryan’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.” I paused as I thought of a way to remove my foot from my mouth. “In the last ten years!”
Chuckling, Hille said, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Paul. So, what happened?”
“I started thinking about us,” I said.
Hille repeated, “Us?”
I stopped walking, sat down and patted the curb for Hille to join me. “Yes, you and me.”
“What about us, Steph?”
“I think we have something.”
Hille didn’t comment so I kept going. I was afraid I would stumble my words if I looked at him so I directed my gaze toward the house across the street. “Like I told you yesterday, I had a massive crush on you in college, before I started dating Paul. I put the crush to rest while I was with him and honestly didn’t think much of it over the past several years, but when I saw you on Hope’s birthday last fall, the feelings came flooding back. I’d never done anything like I did with you in New York—being so aggressive like that. But I just had to. I had to find out if the feelings were mutual. And I was so happy when you admitted to being attracted to me, too. And then we had sex—great sex. But when I thought you just wanted to be friends with benefits, I forced myself to move on—and I met Ryan. I thought you and I were done, but you’ve been so nice to me since we’ve been here—buying me half and half, taking me into the ocean. I realized our story wasn’t over yet. Why else would you do those things if you didn’t really like me, too?” I turned to face Hille, both relieved to have said my peace and apprehensive as to how he’d respond.
But the only noise coming from Hille was the sound of his right foot tapping against the ground.
“Craig?”
Staring down at the pavement, he said, “Yeah?” He was still tapping his foot.
I planted my left foot on his right in a not-so-subtle effort to make him stop. “Say something. Please,” I urged.
Finally, he looked at me and frowned. “Steph. I, uh, I don’t know what to say to this.”
A crooked smile on my face, I said, “You can start with ‘I’m so happy you feel the same as me’!” I waited for Hille to stop frowning but his face was frozen still.
“Steph. You’re an amazing girl,” he said. “You’re smart, fun, interesting and adorable.” Hille kicked a pebble with his foot and watched it roll down the street.
I didn’t have a good feeling. When I imagined having this conversation and pictured Hille’s face, he never looked like he was constipated. I’d never actually imagined the conversation, but I was certain Hille would not have worn that expression. I put my hand on my chin to stop it from trembling. “But?”
“But, we’re just not a match.”
My mouth felt dry and I swallowed hard. As calmly as I could, I asked, “Why not? Is it Denise?”
Hille sighed loudly and averted my gaze. “No. Not Denise. I just don’t think we’re compatible.”
My voice quivering, I asked, “Based on what? Am I not smart enough for you? I know I’m not the intellectual type but I’m definitely smart, Craig. I graduated college with honors and got promoted at work twice in two years. I’m not an idiot.”
“It’s not that, Steph. I know you’re smart.”
“Then what? You don’t think I’m pretty enough?”
“No! C’mon, Steph. You know you’re pretty.”
“Then what is it, Craig? Why am I not good enough for you?” I knew I sounded desperate but only part of me cared and that part was no longer in control.
“You are good enough for me!”
“Clearly. Whatever. At least I know now. Good enough to fuck but not good enough to date.” I lifted the hood of my sweatshirt over my head to cover my face.
Practically in a whisper, Hille repeated, “You’re good enough, Steph.”
“I heard you the first time. Let’s go back. It looks like it’s gonna start pouring any second.” I stood up and began walking away until Hille tapped me on the back.
“Wait,” he said.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned to face him. “What?”
“I’m gay, Stephanie.”
Certain I’d heard him wrong, I did a double take. “What’d you say?”
Hille repeated, “I’m gay. We’re not compatible because you’re not a guy.” Hille paused for a second and then said, “You can close your mouth now.”
I closed my mouth and clenched my teeth to keep it that way.
“Say something,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if my legs would hold out and sat back down on the curb. “I had no idea,” I said. And I still didn’t know if I believed him. I thought I read in He’s Just Not That Into You that a guy would rather tell you he’s gay than admit he doesn’t like you.
Hille sat down next to me. “No one knows, Steph,” he said. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you guys, but I didn’t want you to think this was about you. It’s not.”
Not convinced, I asked, “Then why did you sleep with me in the first place?”
“I never meant to lead you on. I’m so sorry, Steph.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“I had never thought about it but when you hit on me that night in New York—”
Interrupting Hille, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Don’t remind me. Feeling kind of stupid right about now.” From the look on Hille’s face, he was feeling equally foolish. “Sorry. Keep going
,” I said.
“I knew the Paul excuse was lame but I couldn’t think of anything else,” Hille continued. “But when I got home, I thought about how perfect it would be if you and I did get together. I already knew you, and liked you so much. I thought maybe I could really like you—in that way. I was deluding myself.” Hille let out a nervous laugh. “No offense.”
“None taken. Evidently, I’m an expert at deluding myself.” My heart was still slamming against my chest as Hille’s words reverberated in my ears. “But it didn’t just happen once. And you initiated! New Year’s Eve? Hoboken?”
“Yeah. I know. I knew after New York I just couldn’t do it, Steph. But since we didn’t see each other often, it seemed like a good way to keep everyone in the dark until I figured things out.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In disbelief, I asked, “So you used me to make everyone think you were straight?”
His face draining of color, Hille nodded and said, “I didn’t think anyone would get hurt. I had no idea you liked me that much, Steph. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was desperate, I guess.”
“So, why have you been so friendly to me this week? And don’t tell me that you’re always this friendly!”
Hille lowered his head and raised his shoulders, seeming to shrink his upper body in shame. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’m subconsciously more comfortable with you now that you have a boyfriend.”
I nodded. “And you don’t have to worry about me hitting on you. I see. So you didn’t have a crush on me in Criminal Justice class?” I asked.
Hille pursed his lips and shook his head.
“And you weren’t upset that I chose Paul?”
“Not really,” he said.
I buried my head in my hand in shame of my stupidity. Looking up, I gave him one more chance to make things right. “And you’re not insanely jealous of Ryan?”
Hille finally smiled, wrinkles forming in the creases of his eyes. “Sorry, Steph.”
We stopped talking momentarily to acknowledge a teenage boy who had just passed with his Golden Retriever. Once the boy was out of earshot, I asked my final question. “I don’t get it. You’re so good in bed! How could you be so good at something you don’t enjoy?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Hille said, “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it. Physically, it feels good. But Stephanie, I’m just not into girls. Let’s put it this way, I’d rather date Brad than Angelina.”
I chuckled despite myself. And then I thought about Eric’s comment that Hille had never been ga-ga over a girl. It was starting to make sense. In a really fucked up sort of way. “So is that why you pretty much skipped over foreplay and got right to business? And never wanted to chit chat or cuddle afterwards?”
“Even straight guys can only do so much cuddling, Steph,” he said.
Not necessarily, I thought as I recalled nights spent spooning with Ryan. I twirled my hair into a knot and observed Hille. He looked miserable. Like someone stole his Blackberry, but worse.
I couldn’t believe I felt sorry for a guy who pretty much used me as his “beard,” but he was my friend and I felt way worse for him than I did for myself. “It’s okay, Craig. I understand. It must be hard.”
Nodding he said, “You have no idea. But I guess I’ll have to deal with it now.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
Hille looked at me in surprise. “You’re not?”
I shook my head. “Not my secret to tell,” I said.
“Thanks, Steph. I really am sorry.”
“I know you are,” I said.
“And Steph?”
“Yeah?”
“If I was straight, you’d be the first girl I’d want to go out with.”
I playfully jabbed him in the shoulder. “I bet you say that to all the chicks.”
We laughed and then walked back to the house in silence.
One fleeting thought in my head, I muttered, “I guess this means you actually did need information on my firm’s IT department.”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Never mind.”
We found the others where we left them, watching television. Hille disappeared, probably to his room and I went to mine. I was dying to call Ryan until I remembered I had broken up with him. I returned to the living room, sat next to Paul on the couch and hoped he wouldn’t ask where I had gone with Hille.
He gave me a suspicious look and asked, “Where’d you and Hille disappear to? Sex on the beach? Did ‘Girls Gone Wild’ get you that hot?”
“We just took a walk. I needed his advice on computers. My laptop is on its last legs.” As I said this, Hille walked in the room. He winked at me before sitting on the reclining chair. I gave him a closed mouth smile in return as it dawned on me that my lustful feelings for him had been replaced with more brother/sister-like emotions. I hoped it wasn’t homophobic of me to suddenly not be attracted to someone after discovering he was gay. Actually, the last time I even fantasized about Hille was before my first date with Ryan so it had nothing to do with his recent admission. Relieved I wasn’t a homophobe, I turned my attention to ‘One Life to Live.’ I found it amusing how the guys were so into it and made a mental note to remind Paul the next time he made fun of my addiction to ‘The Hills.’
Nobody drank that night. I think we all needed a little de-tox from seven days of drinking practically non-stop. I was happy to lounge on the couch in my pajamas eating microwave popcorn. Hille cooked some frozen chicken nuggets and offered to share them with me. I figured he was trying to bribe me to keep my mouth shut. I meant what I said, though—I had no intention of outing him. But I ate some of the chicken nuggets anyway.
Fifty
It was about midnight and we were watching ‘Late Night With David Letterman.’ His first guest was Patricia Arquette and I guess no one was very interested because one by one, everyone excused himself to go to sleep.
When it was just Eric and me left, he said, “And then there were two.”
“Yup. I’m not that tired,” I said.
“I’m beat. I’m gonna head in.” He threw me the remote control and said, “Now you can watch whatever your little heart desires. Night, Steph.” Then he leaned in and kissed me on the forehead. “You seem a bit off today. Let me know if you want to talk.” Eric paused and added, “Tomorrow.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I’m fine. But thanks for the offer. I stand by my statement. You’re gonna make one heck of a daddy.”
After he left, I pressed the guide button on the remote control and scrolled my list of choices. I could continue with ‘David Letterman’ or switch to ‘Mama’s Family, ‘Law and Order SVU,’ ‘Pimp My Ride,’ Road House or Saturday Night Fever. I immediately turned on Saturday Night Fever. It was the part where Tony looked at himself in the mirror and chanted ‘Attica! Attica!’ to his poster of Al Pacino. I laughed out loud but felt a dull ache in my gut. I missed Ryan. Watching TV with him was always interesting, especially reality shows. He’d get so aggravated when the characters did something stupid. I tried to explain that the shows would be boring if the characters weren’t train wrecks, but it annoyed him to no end. He was adorable. My heart starting beating at a frantic rate as I realized what I’d done. I couldn’t fathom what had possessed me to do something so stupid but it was done and I had no one to blame but myself.
I’d broken up with the cutest guy in the world for a gay guy I didn’t even want anymore.
Suddenly, I couldn’t catch my breath. I started bawling and before I knew it, I was engaged in a full blown tantrum—the likes of which I hadn’t experienced since my eighth grade home-economics teacher said I was disrespectful in class and my mom refused to take me on my semi-annual shopping spree as punishment. I threw all of the pillows off the couch, raised and lowered the volume on the TV and if there was a door in the living room, I would’ve definitely slammed it. I felt so helpless and just wanted my mom. No, I just wanted Ryan.
&
nbsp; “Stephanie?”
I was face down on the couch with my head buried in one of the cushions but looked up to find Eric standing over me with his hands on his hips. “What the fuck, Steph?”
I sat up and hid my face with my hands. Shaking my head, I mumbled, “I’m so stupid.”
Eric sat next to me and tousled my hair. “What happened? I just left you ten minutes ago—you said you were fine.”
My face still covered, I said, “I thought I was. I broke up with Ryan last night and it was a huge mistake. Colossal.”
Just Friends With Benefits Page 24
