Jamie laughed. "Well, people that aren't us. We're messed up."
We rode in companionable silence for a while. We were nearly back to our apartment when Jamie spoke up again.
"So what are you going to do?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't."
"Well, don't wait too long. The longer you put it off, the harder it'll get."
"Yeah, you're right." I agreed with her out loud, but inside, I was wondering if maybe I should just pretend nothing had happened. Get a job somewhere else, stop DJ-ing so I didn't have to see Jeff, and move on with my life, without either man.
It was the coward's way out, but it would be easier than dealing with Jeff's hurt eyes and hard silence.
*
I hid in my room for two days, then took some independent DJ-ing jobs. I drank too much with Jamie. I ignored the waning amount of texts from Chase.
Basically, I tried to pretend nothing had happened, or would happen. I don't know if Jeff even knew I was back in Detroit.
With every passing day I wanted more and more to see Jeff, if only to apologize. Being here, in my apartment, passing places where I'd DJ-ed with him, places where we'd had dinner before work...it all made me realize what I'd given up with him.
A week passed. Jamie held her tongue untill I was halfway through the second week.
"Anna, you're being a coward and an idiot," she told me over our second bottle of two-buck Chuck. "If you don't woman up and do something besides avoid the situation, we're gonna be fighting. For real."
"I can't, Jay. I don't know what to do."
"Not doing anything isn't an option. You're better than this. If you don't want to be with either of them, fine. I think that's stupid, but it's your choice. If you have two men in love with you, you have to pick one of them, I'd think. It's hard enough to get one guy to feel something for you besides 'I want to fuck you.'" Jamie frowned at me in irritation. "Girl, I'm telling you as your friend, if you don't do something, you're gonna wake up one day and realize you made the biggest mistake of your life."
Her eyes welled up and she looked away, downed her glass of chardonnay. I suspected she was speaking from experience, but this seemed to be deeper than we'd gone. We'd always been "have a good time and don't talk about the past" kind of friends.
"What was his name?" I asked.
Jamie didn't answer for a long time. When she did, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Brian. We met a few months after I graduated from high school. My brother had just gone to jail. He'd gotten caught after a heroin-induced series of B and E's. Mom was high all the time, Dad was off with one of his hooker girlfriends. I had no one. No one came to my graduation, no one cared that I was valedictorian, despite not having parents who gave a shit. I'd known Brian all through high school, but in an opposite sides of the same circle of friends kind of way. Then, one day, I was out on the tracks, smoking down, feeling sorry for myself, wondering what the hell my life meant. Brian showed up, just swaggering down the tracks.
Long metal-band hair, all-black clothes, skin-tight jeans and combat boots and spiked bracelets, the whole bit. He saw me smoking, sat down next to me, and we shared the J together. Didn't talk until it was gone.
"He...he got me. Had a similar home situation, and we just kind of talked about it enough to realize we were like the same person, you know? I didn't feel as alone, suddenly. He turned into my best friend. My only friend. We were inseparable after that. I think I saw him every single day for, like, a year. It was just friendship at first. Then one day we got really high and split a forty. He had his own place with a buddy who was twenty-one, bought beer all the time. We lay in Brian's bed, smoking and drinking.
"I don't even remember how it happened. One second we were just blazing and talking and whatever, and then we were kissing and our clothes were off, and...it just happened. You know, I always call bullshit when people say, 'oh it was accident, it just happened.' And most of the time, it is bullshit. It was a choice, and you just chose not to stop it, because really, you wanted it, and the consequences didn't seem so bad in that moment.
But that night, with Brian, it really did just happen. I don't remember there ever being any sexual tension, or flirting, or whatever. It just...happened. I remember it all. Every sweet, incredible moment is burned into my brain forever.
"It freaked me the fuck out. I've got damage, Anna. You know that. I've got guy issues, and it all goes back to my dad not loving me or whatever.
I've had that shit psychoanalyzed dozens of times. Knowing why I've got issues doesn't make 'em go away. Well, Brian had mommy issues like I've got daddy issues, and together, it just made things impossible. He wanted to work it out, give it a try. We got each other, on a fundamental, emotional level. We didn't have to explain our walls and hot-button issues. And the sex was great. After that first time, we couldn't stop, you know?
We just kept fucking every chance we got. But it was never any deeper than that, as in we never talked about what our relationship was, or about our feelings. Well, when he finally confronted me on the issue, told me we had to either talk it out or stop seeing each other...I bolted.
"He chased after me for weeks. Called me, hunted me down wherever I went, told me loved me, wrote me songs. I pushed him away. Finally he took the hint and left me alone. Forever. And now, every day, I realize what a mistake I made. I should have let him love me, should've tried, shouldn't have been such a goddamned coward. It's too late, though. I tried. I looked for him, and I actually found him, but he'd gotten engaged to this great girl, and he was happy and just looked at me all sad, like, 'Too late, baby. Your loss.'"
Jamie had never talked about herself that much at once in al the time I've known her. She stood up and left, went into the bathroom and stayed there for a long time. Crying, probably. Getting it out in private.
When she came back, her eyes were red but she was back to normal. "Anyway, all that with Brian is the reason I am like I am. My therapist used to tel me the reason I go through guys like I do is because I'm looking for Brian, or someone like him."
"Is that why?" I asked.
She nodded. "Pretty much. I mean, do I look at every guy I go out with and ask myself if he's like Brian, or compare them to see if he matches up to Brian? No, not consciously. But I think down deep, subconsciously or whatever, I dismiss the guy before I've given him a chance just because he's not Brian and never will be. The problem is, Brian is gone. No one will ever be him. Someday I'm going to have to let go of him and my idea of a guy based on him. I think maybe I keep hoping some man will come along and just sweep me away, but so far, it hasn't happened, and I'm starting to wonder if it ever will."
"Let me ask you something, Jay. If a guy did come along who was somehow just different from all the others, would you let him sweep you away?
Because so far, in my experience, it's not that easy. Getting swept away is scary, in reality. It's not all love stories and fairy tales." I looked at her over the rim of my wine glass. "You don't know what's happening, and everything you feel is freaking intense as hell, and nothing makes any sense and it's just...scary. It's not like, oh, hey, hot guy who likes me, let's go live happily ever-fucking-after. When you're as damaged as we are, a guy tries to sweep you away and you're like oh, hell no, I'm running. Screw this. I'm gonna go back to what's familiar."
Jamie nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right." She smiled at me. "So if you've got that much figured out, then why haven't you done anything about Jeff or Chase?"
"Because I'm scared shitless, that's why." I laughed. "Avoiding them both is easier than being rejected. I hurt them, and now I don't have the guts to ask for forgiveness."
Jamie frowned, pointed at me with the index finger wrapped around her wine glass. "Well, woman the hell up, chica. You've fought off guys in bars, broken cue sticks and beer bottles over the heads of drunk assholes, and been through more insane shit than most guys I know and come through fine. Well, mostly fine. The point is, don't let this own y
ou, girl. I'm serious. If you let this go, we'll be for real fighting. Don't be an idiot. Find Jeff and apologize and beg him, on your hands and knees, to take you back. Or fly to New York and get Chase to take you back. Something.
Anything. Get them both here and have a threesome. Don't just sit around with your head up your ass. That's the only wrong choice in this situation."
She didn't give me a chance to respond. She downed her wine and wove her way unsteadily into her bedroom.
"I'm right, Anna, and you know it. Get off your ass. Right now."
"I'm drunk right now," I pointed out.
"Well, tomorrow, then. Drunk is never the right time to make major life decisions. Talk about major life decisions, yes. Do something about them?
Not s'much. G'night, Anna."
"Night." I watched her flop onto her bed and start snoring immediately.
I've always envied her ability to go right to sleep. It always takes me a while, even drunk. I finished my wine, set her glass and mine by the sink, turned off the lights and shut Jamie's door. Alone, the silence was deafening. I heard Jamie's words in my head, rolling over and over: Do something, anything. Get off your ass, girl.
I lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking.
Enough running, Anna. No more cowardice.
I told myself I was going to call Jeff in the morning. Better yet, go to his house. Face him in person.
Oh, hell.
*
Jeff's Yukon was in his driveway, his front door was open, and I could see him through the storm door, sitting at the kitchen table in front of his laptop. My stomach was in my throat, my heart pounding in my chest like a high school drum line.
I was in my car, willing myself to get out. It wasn't working. My feet were planted to the floorboard, my ass rooted to the ripped cloth seat. My eyes were already burning, my throat thick, my hands trembling.
I had no idea what I was going to say.
Jeff's back was to me and he had earbuds in, so he didn't see me pull up in his driveway or hear my car rattle down the street. He was oblivious.
Would he slam the door in my face? Would he lead me inside and tell me he forgave me?
I forced myself out of the car. Took a step. Another. A third, and then I was at the door, the glass pane rattling under my trembling knuckles. Jeff looked over his shoulder, the pen in his mouth dropping to the floor.
He pulled the earbuds out of his ears and tossed them aside, closed the laptop, and moved across the smal living room. He stopped in front of the door, his features schooled into neutrality. No anger showed, no sadness or condemnation. Blank.
After an eternity, he opened the door, but he didn't let me in. He stepped out onto the concrete slab that was his front porch. My eyes were blurry and stinging for some reason. I wasn't crying, though. Really.
Okay, so maybe I was, a little.
A long, fraught silence hung between us.
"Jeff, I--I'm sorry. I just wanted to stop by and say that I'm back in Detroit, and--I don't know." I couldn't look at him. "That's it, I guess."
He hadn't said anything yet, hadn't even changed his blank expression. I turned to leave, heart heavy and cracking.
I felt his hand wrap around my elbow. "Anna, wait." I tried not to let hope blossom too fully in my chest. "Why don't you come in and have some coffee?"
It was two in the afternoon, but for Jeff, coffee was an all-day thing. Leftover habit from the Army, I guess. I nodded and followed Jeff inside. I'd only been gone a few days, but it felt like longer. It felt like a lifetime. I realized, as I watched his broad back retreat into the kitchen, how very much I'd missed him. Had going to New York been the worst mistake of my life? It was hard not to think so, in light of my feelings of Chase's betrayal, whether he was guilty or not.
I sat down at the little round table, remembering breakfast here with Jeff, after what had been one of the best nights of my life. It hadn't been wild or acrobatic or daring, just satisfying on an emotional level. It was companionship.
I'd left it all behind for a few days of fun that hadn't panned out into more. And what if it had? What if I'd just stayed in New York with Chase? He'd be a huge rock star someday soon, traveling the world, playing shows in exotic locations. It was just a matter of time. Would I have gone with him?
Stood backstage and watched every show every day for months on end? Sat in hotel rooms, waiting for him to get back? Attended insane after-parties like the one in New York? Would any of that have fulfilled me? Would he have been faithfull all that time?
There were too many questions pounding in my head, and Jeff was sitting across from me, a huge mug with the U.S. Army logo stamped on it held in both of his hard, calloused hands.
"New York didn't work out for you, huh?" Jeff asked.
I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about New York."
Jeff's eyes narrowed. "He hurt you."
A short, tense silence, in which I tried to keep my feelings bottled up inside where they belonged. I couldn't just dump it all on Jeff.
"I said I don't want to talk about New York. I came to apologize for hurting you, and that's it. I--I didn't mean to hurt you. That doesn't help, I guess, but I had to say it." I sipped my coffee to buy time to think, burning my tongue. "I got your email when I got back in to Detroit. I don't know how you can say you're still my friend after the way I--after I--"
Jeff interrupted. "Anna, you'll always be my friend. You can't hurt me bad enough to kill that. I care about you. No matter what."
"You're a better person than I am," I said. "I'm not sure I could do the same, if the situations were reversed."
"I don't buy that," Jeff said. "You're a good person."
"No, I'm not. I wouldn't have left if I was."
"Well ..." Jeff seemed conflicted. "You did leave. It did hurt. But does that make you a bad person? That's not for me to judge."
"This is a confusing conversation. I just came to apologize. I'm not...I'm not trying to get--to ask you to..." I couldn't get the words out.
I stood up and walked to the sliding glass door, watching a robin hop across Jeff's backyard. Jeff was making me even more mixed up inside. He seemed both deeply hurt and impossibly understanding. I didn't know how to deal with either one, much less both at once.
"To what?" Jeff said. "You're not asking me to what? Spit it out."
I shook my head. "No. It's stupid to think of it, and not gonna happen. I don't deserve it, and I don't even know if I want it."
"Say it."
"No." I felt Jeff coming up behind me, standing an inch away, his body heat radiating into me, not touching me, his breath ruffling my hair. "Don't, Jeff. I apologized, and now I'm leaving."
"You didn't apologize," Jeff said. "Just told me you were sorry. That's not an apology."
I turned around, angry now. "You want me to say the words? Fine. Jeff, I apologize for hurting you. Please forgive me." The words started out angry, irritated, but ended up as a cracked-voice sob.
Jeff's hands clutched my shoulders, held me at arm's length. "I forgive you, Anna." His dark eyes pierced into mine, a welter of emotion in his gaze.
"You shouldn't."
He laughed. "Of course I should. Friends forgive each other."
"Okay. So now what?"
"You tell me."
"It's not that easy," I said. "You can't just say 'I forgive you' and have everything go back to the way it was."
"Of course not," Jeff said. "But it's a start."
Jeff sat down at the table again and sipped his coffee. I joined him, and we drank in silence.
"What happened?" Jeff asked.
"You don't want to know."
"Sure I do. You're my friend. Something happened to rile you up and send you back to Detroit."
"Jeff, you really don't want to know. We're more than friends, and you know it. At least, we were. I don't know what we are now, but you don't want to know about New York."
"Don't tell me what I want," Jeff growled
, anger final y showing in his voice. "We were more than friends. We stil are. Now tell me what the fuck happened in New York."
"What do you want to know?" I felt myself on the verge of exploding, and I couldn't stop it. "Do you want to hear that Chase and I fucked like bunnies? That it was crazy and wild and I never wanted to stop? Or do you want to hear that even when I was with him I couldn't stop thinking about you? That I felt guilty with him because it felt like cheating on you? Is that what you want?"
"Anna, I--"
"Or would you like me to get more detailed? Do you want a play-by-play description of positions? Is that it? What do you want, Jeff? You can't honestly still want me after this, can you? What was it you said before we ever hooked up? Oh, yeah, I remember. You said you didn't want Chase's sloppy seconds. Well, I've got news for you, Jeff. That's what you'll be getting. Chase's really sloppy fucking seconds."
Jeff's eyes wavered, angry, hurt, confused, and still pinning me to the wall with impossible understanding. "Anna, now hold on, I already told you, I didn't mean that--"
I didn't let him finish yet again. "You want to know what happened? Why I came back? I found Chase in an alley after his show with a couple of girls al over him. I bolted. I didn't give him a chance to explain. I just left. I was on a flight home within two hours. It just made me so mad. It may not have been what I thought it was, because girls have a tendency of throwing themselves at Chase." I looked away. "Just like I did."
"Fuck," Jeff sighed. "The way I saw it, he threw himself at you. Granted, I didn't see it all, but that's the impression I got. He didn't seem like your type, to be honest."
"My type?"
"Yeah, I mean, he's all pretty boy rock star or whatever, and I've never seen you go after guys like that."
"Because I never thought I was enough for a guy like him."
"Damn it, Anna. You're beautiful. I know you have a hard time believing that, or seeing it in yourself, but it's true." Jeff touched my jaw, turning my gaze back to his. " I see it, Anna. You were always enough for me."
"Even after--"
"Yes. I'm not saying I'm not hurt and pissed off at you. I am. What I'm saying is, I'd be willing to try, if you were. If you want to give Chase another chance, then I guess that's your choice. I wouldn't, personally. I mean, even if it wasn't like you thought, and he wasn't really doing anything, he'd end up doing it one day. No guy can have women throw themselves at him like that and not give in sometime."
Big Girls Do It on Top Page 2
