Blue Rose (A Flowering Novel) (16 page)

35

Dave tells me that he wants to do something special for New Year’s Eve. “Last time we planned ‘something special,’ it was kind of a disaster,” he says.

“It was a perfect disaster,” I tell him. We’ve spent every free minute together
since he got back, even though his parents keep telling him to spend more time at home. He hates being around his father, because when he’s not drunk, Dave feels guilty for hating him so much, but those times are rare. He has every right to hate him, but somehow, he’s still not that guy.

However,
despite all the time we’ve been together and our history, our relationship feels brand new. We’re both more nervous and shy than we were in high school and, other than the kiss on the beach, we have barely touched each other. It’s been nice, actually; I don’t feel any obligation to be anything else and, over the last week or so, I have started to feel like the adult I used to imagine being. I know it’s not one of those overnight fixes, but he’s grown up so much. He’s darker in a lot of ways, but also a lot kinder. Which is impressive, because even when Dave was drunk, even when he was angry or in a fight, he was always kind under it all. Not that anyone other than me or Jack really noticed.

“Well, I don’t want this one to be a disaster. I want it to be memorable, but for the right reasons. I’m not home for long and I want to leave knowing that I tried, that maybe…” He trails off, but I think I know what he wants to say.

“I know it’s been weird,” I say. “I know that I wasn’t ready and that I wasn’t
in
this before. But a lot of time has passed. I want you to come back, and I want you to come back for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What about school?” I’d told him
that I was interested in finally going to school again, but school can be home. Anything can be home.

“When you come home, I’ll be there. Wherever there is. I really want this.
I
want this. I want us, fully and completely,” I tell him.

He blushes and looks at his phone. “Anyway, tomorrow, we need to leave at
eleven. And tell your mom that you won’t be back until the next night. This is a big deal.”

“Damn. Does the army pay you well?” I’m teasing, but also, I’m not exactly used to being treated like this.

“There haven’t been a lot of things to spend money on. But this… Anyway, bring an overnight bag and a change of clothes.”

So I spend the day packing
after he goes home for dinner. I don’t know where we’re going and I end up packing all kinds of clothes, from dressy to sexy to casual, but the hardest part is deciding whether I bring lingerie. I don’t know where this is headed, and neither of us is pure and innocent. But lately it’s been like being a schoolgirl and I don’t know how to be with him. I know how to fuck and I know how to have dirty, nasty sex in dirty, nasty places, but I haven’t been in love in a very long time. I don’t even know if that’s what I feel. All I know is that I feel… happy. I haven’t even needed my meds, and my sessions with Melinda have been productive. She told me that I seem to be getting better, and I said it was Dave, but she said it’s more than that. She told me that I’m starting to exist, to breathe, to grow – and it felt really awesome to hear it. Like the future isn’t just more of the same, like maybe my story can be rewritten, or at least that the end chapters can be hopeful.

In the end, I
decide to go out and buy new underwear and a pretty nightgown. It’s the funniest thing, standing in the store and buying a nightgown like I’m this innocent bride losing her virginity. But I kind of like the feeling.

Dave is early
to pick me up, but I was packed and ready by dawn.

“So, where are we going?” I ask once we’re on the highway.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Give me a hint.”

He smiles and turns on the radio, which has his iPod plugged into it. The song playing isn’t familiar, but it’s nice and I listen to the lyrics as I stare out the window. I don’t really know what it has to do with anything, but after a few more random songs, I start to see a theme.

“We’re going to New York?” I ask him.

“We are.”

“On New Year’s Eve?” I can feel the panic attack starting. The idea of New York City on New Year’s Eve alone is enough to make me want to suck down my entire bottle of Xanax. All those people, all of them so close and touching, being trapped… I open the window and try to catch my breath, but I can feel my heart rate speeding up.

Dave reaches out a hand and brushes it against my thigh. My reaction confuses me. I’m anxious yet relieved, angry yet turned on, and sad yet comforted. All in one touch. “Trust me?” he asks.

I nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

36

Right before Prom
, there was a stretch of ridiculously warm weather. Dave hadn’t mentioned sex, and I was still trying to make sense of the concept of it. With Jack, I had been so comfortable, but I generally still hated it. I hated what it did to people and I hated that I still wanted to do it anyway. I knew that I didn’t love Dave, but I was attracted to him nonetheless. I was interested in him, although he wasn’t asking, and I felt guilty for being willing to sleep with him when I knew I didn’t mean it. It just made me feel like more of a whore.

So when he invited me to come over one afternoon, I was anxious. It was warm and I was wearing shorts and a tank top. My experiences told me that if I dressed like a slut, I was treated like a slut. I was only wearing it because I was warm and I didn’t have a lot of other clothes. I almost said no and went home
, all because of what I was wearing, but my mom had been out of town for work and I felt lonely when I was there alone. I decided to go to Dave’s house, but I was worried. I trusted him; that wasn’t the issue. I just didn’t trust myself.

His parents were at work. I knew his mom was a nurse, but I had no idea what his dad did. I really didn’t know much about his dad, except that his father made him angry and Dave got his alcohol from his dad. I’d only met him in passing
once or twice, since no one was ever home when we were there.

“Do you want something to drink?”
Dave asked.

“Sure. Beer?”

“Oh, I meant, like, soda,” he said. “But yeah. Okay. Beer.” He left and came back a few minutes later with two beers.

“Did you not want beer?” I asked him.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just… well, my dad is running low. But I’ll just tell him I took it. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said and he sat down on the old, raggedy couch in his basement. He looked over at the cushion next to him, like he was waiting for something, but since we’d started dating, Dave tended not to say much. He was always looking out for me, asking what I wanted, and it made me nervous. I didn’t like anyone treating me like I had a say.

I joined him on the couch. He opened his beer, but I assumed he
was suggesting more. I drank mine, fast, and then I reached over, sliding my hand upward along his thigh. He nearly choked on the drink.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We haven’t… well, I figured you wanted to take this further.”

“Do you?”

“Sure. Why not?”

He took my hand off his leg and stood up. “Yeah. That certainly makes me feel like you mean it. Damn it, Alana. Why ruin this? I thought things were good.”

“They are good,” I argued. “I just figured it was time to…”

“Do you love me?” he asked.

I said nothing. A heavy pause hovered between us, but I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to lose him, even though I wasn’t ready to care about him in return. I wanted to sleep with him, because that was how I knew to keep him in my life. I didn’t know what else I could do, because I couldn’t feel what he wanted me to feel.

I might have lied, though. I might have said a lot of things, but I didn’t get the chance. Instead, his father stormed down the stairs, already drunk, and saw the two open
beer cans. He grabbed one, crushed it, and then took Dave by the back of his head and slammed his face into the wall by the stairs. Dave fell to the ground, blood gushing from his nose, and his father kicked him a few times before he even noticed me.

“Tell your whore that she’s not welcome anymore,” he said to Dave and went upstairs.

We never talked about it, and I went back to his house plenty of times. His father was usually too drunk to do anything other than take up space, if he was even home. As far as Dave was concerned, whatever had happened that day was not open for discussion.

I sat with him and waited until his nose stopped bleeding. He changed and we walked to the park, where we played on the swings until it got dark, and then he kissed me under the monkey bars. I let him put his hands
on me, over my shirt, but it was still back to being innocent. I realized that day that we all had our darkness, and we all had our secrets.

37

We take the train into the city. Grand Central is too big, and there are too many people. I promised
that I would trust him, but I’m already anxious and just picturing being in Times Square makes me want to get back on the train and never leave my house again. I don’t, though. Dave reaches out his hand; I take it and I will myself not to make a scene. It’s expensive to be in New York and he’s doing this for me. I can’t imagine why he thought that I would want to be here tonight, but I keep repeating the same thing in my head.
You said you would trust him.

Between driving to the train, and then taking the train, it’s been several hours already. It’s nearly 4:00 by the time we get out of the station. Dave hails a taxi and says something to the driver quietly. I thought you were supposed to get in first, but he clearly has a plan. I slide into the backseat anyway and wait.

The city is beautiful. I’ve only been to New York City once,
on a field trip when I was nine, which is a little ridiculous since I was ready to go to college here. But it’s still decorated for Christmas and there are people everywhere. I don’t mind the people, as long as I have space to move, and I try to focus on how pretty it is, instead of how crowded it is. The taxi brings us to a hotel, which isn’t near too many of the crowds, although based on the traffic getting to the hotel, Times Square must be close. We go into the lobby and Dave takes my bag. This all just feels so unreal, so adult, so strange.

Suddenly, I feel silly.
The lobby is ridiculous, like a museum. I’m wearing sneakers and a hoodie and I’m way underdressed. I’m just a kid. Sure, I’m twenty, but I feel like a child. Dave’s 21, since he was almost a full year older than Jack and me, even though we were all in the same year in school. I realize I couldn’t even
be
in this hotel without him. This isn’t the cheap motel near the bar that doesn’t care how old you are if you pay cash; this is a fancy hotel in New York City with a guy in a jacket and a hat who holds doors open. I don’t belong here. None of us do.

Dave checks us in while I run to the
lobby bathroom and take a Xanax. I don’t want to take it, but I don’t think I can get through the night without it. Being here, and the idea of the crowds, and just everything – it’s all too much and I need to shut down. I only take one, though, because the effects will wear off before it’s dark and maybe, by then, I can talk myself into relaxing without it. We go up to the room; it’s beautiful and we have an amazing view of the Empire State Building. The bed is giant and there’s a bottle of champagne and strawberries on the table.

“Um, how much does the army pay you again?” I ask. It’s probably an invasive question, but Dave just laughs.

“I told you. I’ve had nothing to spend it on. When you said you wanted to see me, I planned all this. I didn’t know if you would like it or even if you’d want to come, but I wanted the option.”

“Thank you
,” I say.

He sits on the bed and puts our bags to the side. “Sit with me?”

I join him, but the bed is gigantic and we leave enough space for another person between us. I chew my nails and look at my sneakers and the floor. “This intimidates me,” I admit.

“Why?”

I look up at him and I’m crying before I can stop myself. “I don’t belong here. I’m trash, Dave. This isn’t the kind of place you bring trash. I’m a shitty motel kind of girl, and I do the things you do to girls in a shitty motel.”

He moves over and pulls me into his side. “You’re not trash. I know you don’t understand it, but I’ve loved you since I met you. There is nothing you could do that could change that, and I know you’ve tried. I told myself when I left that I would get over you, but I haven’t. The second you got in touch… well, this was the first thing I did when you said
that you wanted to see me. I wanted to show you. Nothing has changed for me. I mean,
tons
of stuff has changed. But not you. You never change for me. I love you completely.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

I laugh. It’s a stupid laugh, because I’m still crying and it’s all awkward and messy, but he just laughs with me and then
he gets me to stand up and go to the bathroom with him. He holds my hair back as I wash my face. I watch him in the mirror. He’s a big guy, and he’s had a lot of shitty stuff happen in his life. I know without knowing for sure, because I’ve seen a glimpse of it. Here’s this soldier, who could hurt me, who could crush me, holding my hair while I clean my face because I’m crying over his kindness.

“Life is really, really fucking weird,” I say.

He turns me around and kisses me. Years have passed. We came together, fell apart, and came together again. He kissed me on the beach and we’ve become closer again, but as I open my mouth to him, there is something in the kiss that I’ve never experienced. I want him desperately, and I feel no shame about it. I don’t want it to be dirty and I wish I could have this be the only time; however, I also know that I wouldn’t be ready for this in the way that I am if it was. I reach for the hem of his shirt and try to undress him, but he backs away.

“I’m not here for that,” he says.

“You don’t want to?”

He kisses the top of my head. “Clean up. I’ll see you in a minute.”

The rejection stings, but I try not to take it personally. I don’t believe he’s rejecting me out of a lack of desire or anything like that. I know that he’s doing what he thinks is noble, but as much as I am trying to make progress, it’s not like I’m some virginal kid who needs to take it slow. I’m ready and I want him. I want
him
; I don’t want Jack or some stranger or just to get off. I want Dave to make love to me. I want to give him everything I held back when we were together before. I want to wake up next to him tomorrow and every other stupid day after that.

“I love you,” I whisper, although he’s out in the room. I just want to feel the words on my lips before I say them aloud to him. I do, though. I love him. I
’ve probably always loved him, but there was too much covering my ability to feel it. If Dave was the buried layer, I just needed time to dig through everything else that was in the way. But I feel it now.

He has the TV on in the room and I sit on the bed next to him. “Watching TV?”
I ask.

“I tried to find somewhere with a view of the ball drop, but apparently you need a year’s notice
or more. You should have gotten in touch sooner.”

“I don’t know…” But I don’t want to ruin it by complaining.
I’ll figure out a way to deal with the crowds. I can do that for him.

“I’m not taking you to Times Square,” he says.

“You’re not?”

“Hell no. Are you crazy? All those people? No. We’re watching it on TV. My big surprise comes tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

He grins. “There’s an exhibit… at the MoMA. I thought…”

“Oh. But why New Year’s? It’s madness here,” I say.

He shrugs. “I thought it would be romantic. To be here. Even though we’re not there for the big event, we’re kinda still
here
, you know?”

“I do. So the MoMA…”

“Is that okay?” he asks, suddenly nervous, but it’s perfect. “They have
Starry Night.
That’s good, right?”

“
It’s great. Want to split a burger?” I tease.

“Already taken care of it,” he says. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and the room service cart is rolled in. I don’t know why we need a whole cart for a burger.
Because that’s what he ordered. One burger. I watch him sign the receipt, close the door, cut the burger, and I can’t take it.

“I love you,” I tell him.

He looks up. “For a burger?”

“No. I mean, well, yeah. But I do. I love you. I should have always loved you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He says nothing in return, but he hands me my half of the burger and we eat. Then we eat the strawberries. He doesn’t open the champagne; neither of us wants alcohol. I want to be present. I’m already regretting the one Xanax, because I want every nerve to experience every moment of tonight. When we’re done, he rolls the cart back into the hall and locks the door.

“Do you mind if I take a shower? Or is there something else planned?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. We relax and we watch the ball drop.”

“So why did we need to leave so early?”

“I wasn’t taking any chances of having the train get stuck for three hours again.”

I nod and take my bag to the bathroom. My body feels like it’s on fire. The last time I had sex was with Jack and Lily.
It’s been almost two months, which might not seem like a lot for most people, but it is for me. And this isn’t a desire that I’m familiar with. I feel it both in my body and my mind. I want to lose myself completely in another person. I don’t want toys; I don’t want to play a game. I just want Dave, however he wants me.

I get in the shower and I almost beg him to join me, but I just get clean and slip into my new underwear and nightgown, thankful
that I bought them. Dave’s eyes grow wide when I head back into the room.

“I think I need to take a shower, too,” he says. “A really, really cold one.”

“You don’t have to stop it,” I point out.

“Not yet, Alana. I’m not ready yet.”

I nod. “Okay, but that ball isn’t dropping for hours. I’ll pick a movie,” I tell him and I crawl into the bed and under the covers. He goes into the shower and I flip through children’s movies to get my brain back to the right place. Cartoons. We’ll watch cartoons.
I could just interrupt his shower
, I think, but I don’t want that. I want Dave to want me as badly as I want him; I want to be equal to someone in bed for once. I realize it’s always either all about me, or not about me at all.

He comes back to bed fully dressed and we watch movies. Not cartoons, but cheesy comedies, until it’s late and he turns on the ball drop. He’s still wearing his jeans, shirt, and socks. He finally took off his shoes, which he had put back on after his shower, during the second movie. Mostly because he was wearing big ass boots and they were in the way of the screen.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I mumble. I’ve been growing tired because the bed’s like a cloud and the comfort in the room,
the comfort I feel with Dave, it’s overwhelming to me.

“When I first got overseas, I used to fantasize about getting letters from you. I thought
that maybe they were just taking too long to get to me. I know I’d said not to write, but I thought that you might anyway. When you didn’t, I told myself that I would never care about anyone again. I told myself that I didn’t care about you anymore. But you were all I ever thought about. There was one mission, and I thought, for a bit, that we might not make it. And I could think of nothing but you. I just wanted to tell you that I still loved you. Even when I had to do things…” He pauses and his eyes grow dark. I rest my hand on his and meet his eyes. There’s so much pain there, but he doesn’t explain. “I did things that I won’t ever forget. But no matter what I’ve done, or what I may do in the future, I’ll never stop being the guy who loves you, Alana.”

“I know,” I tell him. “And it took me a long time to be ready. But I am. I love you, too. Truly. Just you. There’s no Jack, no past, no anything. I am fully here with you tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“I went t
o the bus station when you left,” I say.

“You did?” he asks. “Were you too late?”

I shake my head. “No. I texted you, but I saw how much that text meant to you, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell you that I loved you when I didn’t yet. I mean, I’ve always loved you. But you were right. I didn’t have room for you, for a relationship, for anything you were ready for in my life. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So what changed?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I love you.”

The conversation fades out as we watch the year end and the
new year begin. As the ball drops, Dave turns off the TV and he kisses me. He leans down, his body so close, and his mouth covers mine. I reach my hands up, under his shirt, and I can feel his back muscles fighting. He wants to go further, I know it, but he doesn’t want me to think that’s all I am for him.