Just Friends With Benefits (34 page)

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.

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.

“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.”

“You get in a fight?”

I finally removed my hands from my face and looked at Eric. “Not exactly.”

After I explained what happened, leaving out the reason Hille said we were not a good match, Eric stared at me in disbelief. “You’re a piece of work, Steph,” he said. “You complain all these years that you can’t meet a guy you really like who likes you back, you finally meet one and you dump him for Hille? You guys have nothing in common except mutual friends. Horrible couple. You’re nuts.”

“I know. I’ve just liked him for so long. I guess I thought it meant something,” I said.

Looking at me questionably, Eric asked, “You’ve liked him for so long?”

I told Eric about my college crush. First he laughed and then he yelled at me for never telling him. Then he asked if I still liked Hille.

“No. I like Ryan,” I said. “Seriously, if God could create the perfect guy for me, it would be Ryan. Well, from what I know about him so far. We’re still in the honeymoon stage.” I paused. “Correction. We
were
in the honeymoon stage.” I started sobbing again.

“Stop it!” Eric yelled. “Just call Ryan and apologize.”

The tears stopped. I hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think he’d take me back?”

Scratching his head, Eric said, “I don’t know. What you did was totally fucked up, Steph. But if you like him as much as you say...”

“I do!”

“And if he likes you as much as you like him, he might forgive you. It’s worth a shot,” he said.

Excited, I went to grab my phone from the coffee table but Eric covered my hand with his. “Not now, Steph. You can’t call him in the middle of the night. Wait till tomorrow.”

“You sure?” I really wanted to call him now.

“I’m sure. Go to sleep and call him in the morning.” He got up and started walking toward his room.

“Okay. Thanks, Eric. I love you,” I said.

“I love you too. Now stop crying and get some sleep.”

I wasn’t tired at all but figured the sooner I went to bed, the sooner I could wake up and call Ryan. I couldn’t wait to apologize and get it over with. I wanted to see him. And hug him. And kiss him. And have sex with him. Yes, definitely that last one. I wondered why I thought sex was so great with Hille when it was amazing with Ryan. Hille wasn’t even that good. I just thought he was because I was so damn into him! Ryan was so much better. Sex with Ryan reminded me of the Fleetwood Mac song ‘You Make Loving Fun.’ I was going to start crying again. I couldn’t bear another minute of him thinking I didn’t like him anymore.

I looked at the clock. It was 1:47. Ryan liked to sleep late on Saturday mornings and so I didn’t want to call him before 11:00. That meant I had at least 9 hours and 13 minutes before I could call him. I hoped he wasn’t out late, especially if he was on a date. I had to apologize before he met someone else! Sure, the chances of him meeting someone else in the 24 hours since we’d broken up were slim, but what if his buddies took him out with the sole purpose of getting him laid? Oh God, what if he was fucking someone right now? Why hadn’t he called me all day? Did he even care that I broke up with him? My stomach hurt. My heart hurt. Everything hurt and my breathing was labored. There was no point even trying to fall asleep. It wasn’t gonna happen.

I dragged the comforter off my bed and brought it with me into the living room where I curled on the couch and turned on the television. I kept the volume low so I wouldn’t wake Eric and Jess. I never understood people who liked to stay up all night watching television. There was never anything good on. I settled on an old episode of ‘Dallas’ on Soapnet. I couldn’t believe I used to love such a stupid show. And Charlene Tilton was freakishly short. I turned the TV off, flipped over on my side in the fetal position with my face towards the couch and imagined Ryan holding me. I could almost feel my smaller frame wrapped in his larger one, his hands covering mine and his breath in my ear gently lulling me to sleep.

With that image in mind, my heart slowly stopped racing, my breathing returned to normal and finally, I fell asleep.

I woke with a jolt and immediately checked the time—8:11. There was no way I could wait another two hours and 49 minutes to call Ryan. I had to do it now. If anything, he’d appreciate my eagerness. No one seemed to be up yet, but it was about that time. Paul would probably come farting up the stairs any minute now. I took my phone outside to the front porch, just like two days earlier. This time I skipped the vodka shot and cigarette, although the shot was tempting. With a mixture of excitement and sheer terror, I stared at Ryan’s name on my phone contemplating whether to hit ‘send.’ The last time I was this nervous was the night I threw myself at Hille in New York. And I cried myself to sleep that night. This was different. I’d be fine. I just had to suck it up for a few minutes while I apologized. But then he’d accept my apology, we’d laugh about it and I’d see him tomorrow night like originally planned. Just a few minutes of pain and then everything would be back to normal. I knew I could do it and, with that, I crossed my fingers, hit send and closed my eyes while I waited for the phone to ring and for Ryan to pick up.

I was vaguely aware I was holding my breath for the first two rings. Halfway through the third ring, I wondered if his voicemail would pick up. I couldn’t hang up—he’d know I’d called. Fourth ring—maybe the initial apology over voicemail wasn’t a bad thing. It could break the ice. Voicemail. I listened to him tell me he wasn’t available but would call me back as soon as he could, heard the beep and took a deep breath.

“Hey Ryan, it’s me, Stephanie. I know it’s early and you’re probably sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up or anything but I had to call you and just couldn’t wait any longer. I feel so incredibly stupid, Ryan. I made a huge mistake. I don’t know what was going through my mind when I broke up with you but it’s the last thing I want to do. When you get this, please call me, okay? I really want to talk to you and apologize. I’m still in North Carolina, leaving tomorrow but I have my cell.” I glanced at the phone in my hand. “Obviously. Okay, talk to you soon. Okay…bye.”

After I hung up, I stared at the phone and analyzed the message I’d left. At least I hadn’t stuttered or said “um” a million times. It could’ve been worse, but it could’ve been better and I forgot to tell him that he made loving fun. I thought about calling him back but decided against it. He’d get the message when he woke up and would call me back. I just had to wait it out.