by Unknown
I feel the corners of my lips lift, and I shift in my seat just as Anni lowers herself haughtily into her seat. When he goes back to the game, she raises a perfectly tweezed brow and sasses, “That shade of pink in your cheeks looks good on you. I should embarrass you more often.”
“Oh, you do it quite enough, thanks. Bitch,” I hiss, finishing off the wine in my glass.
Just as I’m about to set the empty glass on the table, it’s lifted from my hand from over my head, and I turn to see Aiden’s retreating back as he heads to the bar.
“My work here is done,” Anni brags.
The rest of the night is spent taking turns playing pool, Anni, Brittany, and me dancing on the tiny dance floor whenever a line dance or a hip-hop song comes on, and drinking…lots and lots and lots of drinking. The more I drink, the less and less I think about eyes the color of Hershey Kisses, pillow-soft lips, and tattooed arms made of steel attached to a body that was made for nothing but pleasure.
My focus turns to not falling, and trying not to pee on myself from laughing so hard at Aiden and Anni, who have now grown accustomed to each other and have decided it’s enjoyable to try to destroy each other’s ego. Their banter was making me uncomfortable at first, but after they both had reassured me it was all in good fun, and with a healthy dose of sweet pink wine, I found their bashing hilarious. I played exactly two games of pool before I couldn’t bend over the table without toppling over, and darts were abruptly taken out of my hands by a smiling Aiden, who was growing cuter and cuter as the night went on.
Before Anni has to practically carry me out to her car, I hug every single one of the guys, and Brittany, telling them each that I love them, and even kiss Aiden on the cheek. He tries to do that thing where the guy turns his head to make the kiss land on his lips, but I catch my momentum just in time, grab his face between my hands, and hold him still to smack my lips against his cheekbone. He gives me his infectious smile one last time, before I fall into the Mustang’s passenger seat, and before he closes the door behind me, I slur something about him coming to shake his ass with us on Wednesday. I’m pretty sure he agrees, and after the door is shut, I see Brittany mouth, ‘I’ll be there!’ through my window.
I slightly come to as Anni helps me up her stairs to her apartment. I’m vaguely aware of fighting with her, wanting a cigarette out on her balcony. I win, and she sits right next to me, like she thinks I’m going to throw myself over the iron railing. And then I’m in her bed in my t-shirt and undies. She won’t leave me the whole night, because she thinks I might get sick in my sleep and not wake up.
I love my best friend, is my last thought before I sink into a black oblivion.
Kayla’s Chick Rant & Book Blog
June 3, 2005
Wednesday night was…interesting. South Beach has changed a lot since the last time I was there. It’s actually pretty cool how it’s set up. One side of the club has all black walls with blacklights lining the ceilings and bars, and beach scenes glow on each wall. There is a massive dance floor, with a stage and poles where brave—or in my case, completely trashed—club goers can show off their moves as the thumping bass of the hip-hop music blares through the huge speaker systems on each side of the floor.
On one of the walls is a giant open doorway, and walking through it is like being teleported into a completely different universe. One second you are in the raging party atmosphere of South Beach, and the next, you are in the relaxed and happy-go-lucky ambiance of the Palomino Club. There is a large, circular wooden dance floor in the middle of the room, with steps in the center leading down into a small area with a few tables and chairs. A railing lines the interior, presumably so dancers don’t fall into the hole as they are spinning in their cowboy boots while two-stepping.
There is a bar on either side of the saloon-inspired club, but what caught my attention were the two mirror-covered saddles rotating over the dance floor in place of the normal disco balls.
Anni and I participated in every line dance that was played, from “Stars On the Water,” to “Copperhead Road,” to my new favorite, “Strokin’.” Aiden even joined in for the “Cotton-eyed Joe.” Brittany…let me tell ya…that girl’s got some moves! I could easily see her in a hip-hop music video.
I drank the night away, Aiden teaching me a trick of buying just a coke or juice, and then—with his fake ID—he’d buy a round of shots and just pour one in my cup. Easy peasy. Anni must’ve been getting used to the fact I’m basically trying to numb myself, accepting it’s the only way I can function without wanting to break down every five minutes. She didn’t say anything about the amount I was drinking, didn’t try to hinder me in any way, but still, she never left my side. She’d allow it, but she’d watch over me while it happened. So I felt secure enough to just give in to the liquor and the blaring music, letting the beat fill the emptiness I felt inside.
I laughed often, Aiden impressing me with his dance skills, and I even slow danced with him a few times. There were no fireworks, or even a spark, but what I did feel was safe, taken care of while I was in his arms. And I think that’s what I really need right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel the magic I felt with Jason, but at least I now know I can feel comfortable being held by another guy.
We exchanged email addresses over texts, so for the past couple of days, we’ve been writing back and forth to each other non-stop. He doesn’t have a MySpace, but I copy and paste the cute ‘about me’ questionnaire posts that make their way around the site, fill out all my answers, and then send them to him. About an hour later, I’ll get a response with all his answers, and I find myself smiling as I read them.
I now know all his favorite foods, places to go, all about his childhood, his worst fears, and his embarrassing moments. All within a week, I feel like I really know this guy. Anni thinks I’m rushing things, that I’m getting attached too quickly, and maybe I am, but I’m…I’m desperate. I’m desperate to heal this gaping wound I feel in my soul. And when I’m talking to Aiden, and hanging out with him, it’s still there, but it’s a little bit more bearable.
So I’m going to latch on to that tiny bit of ease I get when I’m around him, and I’m going to use it as a lifeline, because God knows what would happen to me if I didn’t at least have that.
Help me, I’m holding on for dear life
A week later
It’s party night at Brittany’s house, as usual. She and I have been getting really close over MySpace and texting. She’s happy to have a girl to talk to while her boyfriend is deployed, and I like how free-spirited she is. She’s a goofball, and it’s fun to mix her personality with Anni’s mothering ways. Anni said she feels like she now has two daughters to look after.
Anni is driving us out to Spring Lake for the party. I’ve been letting her read all the emails between Aiden and me, and she’s warmed up to him, seeing how much time he spends writing me throughout his work day, when he should be fixing C-130s. He’s an airplane mechanic, which is kinda hot. He looks very impressive in his camouflaged BDUs, always with a little bit of black grease smeared somewhere on his face.
The first time I saw him like that, when we met for lunch one day right off base, I felt a little tremor of nausea when the image of the first time I met Jason, in his driveway when he was fixing his truck, immediately popped into my head. But in his usual way, Aiden cracked a joke about being a grease-monkey, and my attention was brought back to the present.
I’ve been to these parties for the last three weekends, and this is Anni’s first time going since she usually has to work on Friday nights. I’ve warned her that the guys can get a little rowdy, but they are all good men, so she should be on her best behavior and lighten up while we’re here. She promised she wouldn’t pick any fights, and that’s probably the most I can ask for.
I also informed her that I was going to stay here tonight. Aiden invited me to go to the beach for the weekend, and we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. She wasn’t happy about that one
bit, even inviting herself along, but I told her not this time. I wanted to see if I could handle being alone with another man without having her there as a security blanket. He’s been doing a great job of bringing me out of my funk during our lunches, so there’s hope.
I don’t really get what he sees in me, why he bothers cheering me up, a girl he only met two weeks ago, who clearly has issues. I voiced this to Anni, and she said if she were someone who didn’t know me, who didn’t know I was normally an overly-bright, perky, almost annoyingly cheerful person, she’d just think I was a little shy. Apparently I’m good at hiding how desolate I feel.
I tell myself to stop questioning it and just go along for the ride, wherever this may lead me. I mean, I can’t feel any worse than I already do, right? I’m pretty much at rock bottom. Things can only look up from here.
The house is already packed by the time we get there, so—bottle of wine in hand—we make our way out the back door to the bonfire. Aiden has saved me a fold-up camping chair next to him, and Brittany brings over two more for her and Anni. Next thing I know, I’m trying my first sake bomb. Dropping a shot glass full of Japanese sake into a Solo cup halfway full of beer, the three of us chug our drinks while Anni looks on in disgust. Surprisingly, it goes down pretty easy, and about an hour later, we do another…and another, until finally, I can’t feel my face.
I’m vaguely aware of Anni arguing with Aiden about taking me home, but I drunkenly turn that down. I’m actually looking forward to this weekend at the beach. So I listen to her give him explicit instructions not to leave my side for a second during the night, and he agrees. Something is said about no funny business, and I hear the defense in his voice as he responds. I can’t even stand up on my own, and my head flops back as Aiden lifts me into his arms, carrying me next door to his house. He carefully makes his way through the front door, around the corner, through the kitchen to the hallway, and then through what I assume is his bedroom door.
I’m confused as I’m laid on the bed, because the mattress feels weird. At the look on my face, he explains it’s an air mattress, and the last thing I remember is asking him why he doesn’t have a real bed.
Sun is up, I’m a mess
Pain like I’ve never felt in my life explodes in my head the second my eyes open. I groan, turning onto my other side, pulling the covers over my face. I hear a deep chuckle next to me, and crack one eye open again to see Aiden smiling down at me, where he’s propped up on his elbow.
The air mattress moves me higher as he shifts to grab something off the dinner tray next to him, and I see the alarm clock sitting on it reads 9:32am. He turns back to me and opens his hand to reveal two Tylenols, and when I take them, he grabs a bottle of water off the tray, opening it up and handing it to me. It actually hurts to swallow, and I squeeze my eyes closed as I gulp down the water.
“The fuck did I drink last night?” I ask in a scratchy whisper, remembering trying something other than my wine.
“Sake bombs,” he tells me. “You took them like a champ, which is surprising. I thought you said you don’t like beer.”
“I don’t,” I groan, hiding my face in the pillow.
I feel his fingers start in the center of my forehead and gently slide their way across to my ear as he pushes my hair out of my face. I don’t know how I feel about the would-be sweet gesture, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, because suddenly his hand runs through the back of my hair, and he uses it to turn my face back up to his. He looks down at me with those swirling green and brown eyes, and I see real care in their depths. It makes me want to cry. I’m scared to believe the emotion, because the last time I thought a man cared about me, I ended up getting fucked. Literally.
The want to cry turns into an actual action, and his brow furrows as he sees my eyes tear up. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he asks, loosening his grip in my hair.
My breath hitches and a single tear slides down the bridge of my nose. “Not yet.”
His head pulls farther away so he can see me better, and I can almost hear the wheels spinning in his head. Is he thinking about if it’s even worth getting involved with my fucked-upness? Is he wondering if I’m too damaged to deal with? Because I sure am. I’m wondering if I should let this guy get involved with me. He’s so full of spirit, so happy and playful. Won’t I just bring him down?
A few moments pass, and when I’m sure he’s about to pull away and send me packing, he does the opposite. He leans closer, and in the most soothing and sweet tone, he whispers, “I don’t know who or what hurt you, but if you let me, I’m going to kiss and make it better. Is that all right with you?”
I look into his eyes, wanting so much to believe he truly can make everything all better, so I nod once.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My heart doesn’t speed up, lights don’t go off behind my closed eyelids, butterflies don’t set off inside my belly…nothing. The kiss is…nice. The actual physical touch of his lips against mine is pleasant, and I know if I wasn’t dead inside, it would have been one of the better kisses I’ve had in my life. But still, it doesn’t hold a candle to the last man I kissed, the man I know my soul cries out for as Aiden takes the kiss deeper, lightly running the tip of his tongue across the seam of my lips.
I pull back at the pain I feel in my heart and cover my mouth with my hand. He looks at me confused for a moment, but taking in my position, he chuckles and questions, “You worried about morning breath? Anni brought your bag in from her car before she left last night. You want me to grab your toothbrush for you?”
I force a smile behind my hand, hoping it reaches my eyes as I nod. I need him away from me for a minute. I need to get ahold of myself before I have a full-blown panic attack over Jason while lying in another man’s bed.
He moves off the bed, making me bounce a little as the air mattress shifts. When he leaves the room, I tangle my fingers in the front of my shirt, pulling the neckline down because I feel like I can’t breathe. Why am I freaking out so badly? On my drive home from Texas, I stopped in Florida and stayed overnight with an old friend-with-benefits. We’d drank his sister’s wine on his humid back porch, listening to the sound of crickets chirping until we ended up falling into his bed for a night of straight fucking. We hadn’t kissed, not bothering with the affection, just got right down to business.
It hadn’t affected me the way this one little kiss with Aiden did. Was it because he’d been familiar, an old friend I’d done it with before? Was it because there wasn’t anything emotional about the sex we had? Or was it because I had been going through the anger part of loss, trying to rid myself of the feelings Jason had given me?
What stage am I in now? I never went through the denial part, I don’t think. Jason had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want me anymore; there was no denying that. At the time, I’d thought, Is this really happening? But I was quick to realize it most certainly was. I must be going through the bargaining and depression stages, bargaining with myself, saying if I can just make myself feel something for Aiden, then the feelings for Jason will disappear.
If only I could make them go away.
If only there were a way to forget he even existed.
I look up as Aiden reenters the room and holds out my toothbrush like he found the winning prize. His grinning face lightens my panic to a dull ache, and I sit up carefully, not wanting to add to my pounding headache.
“Check-in time at the hotel isn’t until three, and it only takes two and a half hours to get to Myrtle Beach, so you have plenty of time to get over your hangover before we need to leave. I’ll make us some breakfast while you do your thing in the bathroom across the hall. I have a magical cure that’ll fix you right up,” he assures me, and as I go to take my toothbrush from him, he wraps his other arm around my waist and pulls me to him. He doesn’t try anything, just holds me to him in a sweet embrace, and I draw strength from the hug. I breathe out a long sigh, and when he finally lets me go, I feel steadier on my feet.
&nb
sp; He wasn’t lying. Aiden’s breakfast of scrambled eggs with melted cheese and buttered toast did the trick of settling my stomach, and mixed with the pain relievers, my head was back to its normal, albeit cloudy, state.
We’d left his house close to noon and arrived at our hotel in Myrtle Beach around three after stopping for lunch at Waffle House along the way. We’ve spent the past few hours just chilling on the beach, and I’ve enjoyed running my toes through the beautiful, soft white sand after only seeing the brown, seaweed-covered dirt in Galveston for my past couple of beach trips.
He uses his fake ID to buy beer and a few bottles of wine at the liquor store next to our hotel, and after eating a seafood dinner at one of the small joints off the strip, we go back to our hotel to drink on our balcony. The weather is perfect. I soak up the last rays of sun as it sinks into the horizon, my feet propped up on the railing as I slink down further into my chair, ashing my cigarette in the ashtray in the center of the glass table between us.
After a while of comfortable silence as he finishes off his third beer, replenishing my second glass of wine, he asks, “You know those questionnaire things you send me?”
“Yeah.” I look at him suspiciously.
“What if we do something like that, only out loud? There’s some stuff I’d like to ask you that weren’t on one of the surveys.” He gives me a wicked grin.
“You mean like 20 Questions?” I look down into my wine glass, fighting back the dread bubbling up and threatening to ruin the good day I’ve had since I brushed my teeth this morning.
“Yeah. I mean, you can always pass if you don’t feel comfortable answering one,” he assures me, sensing my shift in mood.
