Authors: Jeannine Allison
I opened my mouth to respond; I had no idea what I was going to say, but step one was complete: my mouth was open. I should have immediately said no, I should have told him that I was not even a little bit interested. But that would have been a lie and based on how I let him grope me earlier, he would know that. I was
very
interested. But I was also very scared and inexperienced and distrusting and every other neurotic trait destined to destroy a relationship.
We were still holding hands and looking directly at each other, which made everything worse. Because if we weren’t touching and looking at each other I could convince myself that he was just confused, that he didn’t really want to go out with me. But with our hands touching I could feel the nervous sweat on his palm, and with our eyes locked I could see his countenance shift from confident to wholly unsure. And it broke my heart. He began to squirm and tried to remove his hand from mine, but I held on to such a degree it was probably painful.
“It’s not you,” I rushed out, only to cringe at how horribly cliché that was, even if it was one hundred percent the truth.
“You know, I’m not that bad of a guy. Or so I’ve been told.” He pulled on my hand, playfully trying to laugh off the moment, but I could still hear the gravity in his voice and see the sadness in his eyes.
“I know that,” I whispered. My eyes darted between his as I tried to silently convey all the things I couldn’t say.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered back. “If you don’t feel the same way, just tell me and we can”—he stopped abruptly and shook his head before continuing—“God, I really don't know what we could do because I just don’t believe this is one-sided. I think you
do
feel the same way but something is holding you back.”
“I know that,” I repeated, like he hadn’t even spoken. “Why do you think I don’t want
you
to date
me
?”
His eyes widened as he shook his head. “Alara—”
I quickly put my fingers to his lips; however, in my drunken state it came off as a light slap to his cheek. I laughed but the moment quickly grew serious again. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please don’t say anything right now.”
He shook his head again and looked straight into my eyes. “We can’t avoid this conversation forever—this isn’t something that goes away.”
Internally cursing myself for being so awkward and afraid, I slumped down in the seat. “Gabe, I’m trying to do you a favor.”
I came so close to just telling him everything because all I wanted was to wipe the look of hurt off his face. I knew enough about hurt and I never wanted to be responsible for hurting another person, especially him. But I feared the cost would be my own pain, so I was selfish and kept everything to myself.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered pathetically. He took one last look at my face before nodding and getting out of the booth. His brows were furrowed and he cleared his throat before throwing some money on the table.
“Will you tell them I was tired and went home?”
“H-how will you get home?”
“Cab.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure if we just go get them—”
“Alara,” he interrupted. “No offense, but I don’t really want to be around any of you right now.”
“Oh. Okay,” I said as I slumped back into the booth.
He gave me one last searching look before blowing out a breath, turning around, and walking out the door.
…
“Maybe you should slow down,” Sherry cautioned. You knew things were bad when Sherry started warning you about your drinking. She had arrived a few minutes after Gabe left and found me sulking in the booth, and when she tried to ask me what was wrong I blew her off and dragged her to the bar.
“Nope, I’m greeeaaaatttt.” I hiccupped. “Who was that?” I yelled and poked Naomi in the side.
“Tony the tiger. Jeez,” she grumbled as she rubbed her side. “I forgot how annoying you get when you’re drunk.”
“HEY!” I shrieked. “How rude!” I mimicked the high-pitched voice and tried to keep a straight face, but my cackles took over. “Who was
that
?”
“Stephanie Tanner. Seriously, how much has she had to drink?” Sherry asked, looking nervous, as she turned to Naomi.
As they spoke in hushed voices, my gaze traveled over to the corner where Derek was talking to the last singer who had performed. I still couldn’t believe Gabe asked if we slept together. I mean how freaking weird was that? Not to mention gross. I shuddered at the image.
“What’s weird?” Naomi asked, making me realize I said that last bit out loud.
“Gabe asked me if Derek and I… ya know.” I widened my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows for added effect.
“If you, what? Have seizures? Because that’s exactly what it looks like right now,” Sherry said as she waved the bartender over for some water.
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the water placed in front of me. “Noooo… he asked if Derek and I slept together.”
Water came spurting from Naomi’s mouth as she started choking while Sherry simply smirked and shook her head. I
knew
she knew what I was trying to say. I gave her a completely and ridiculously fake glare, which only forced out the laughter she had been holding. “Why can’t you just say ‘sex’? When you say ‘slept together’ it just seems like you’re a preteen too afraid to say the actual word. It’s not a bad word, Alara. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Seeexxxx.”
“I know that… I just… ahh, this is stupid. That’s not even the point. Gabe asked me out,” I confessed.
“Wait,” Naomi said after she finally got her coughing under control. “You’re giving me verbal whiplash. How did we go from talking about sex with Derek, a topic that I keep
begging
you guys to keep to a minimum, to Gabe asking you out?”
I blew out a breath and explained the whole thing. Well, I was pretty sure I explained everything, but I could feel my stomach turning and my eyelids drooping shut against my will.
“Okay, we’re going to table this for right now. It’s time we get her home. Who drove?” Sherry asked.
“Derek. But I’ve only had a couple drinks and that was a few hours ago, so I should be good to drive.”
I saw Sherry shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “Nope. I took a cab and I’m completely sober, so I will be the one driving.”
“Thank God. I hate driving even if I’ve only had half of a beer,” Naomi said as she tossed her the keys she’d been holding for her brother.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got her,” Sherry said as she nodded toward me. “You’re good to get Derek?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
Sherry and I were slowly making our way to the front door when my stomach protested all that was inside and we had to rush to the bathroom. After I emptied out what felt like everything I had
ever
eaten and drank, we made our way back through the club and outside.
“Are you okay? Did you have too much to drink?” Sherry asked as she buckled me into the front seat. And even in my drunken state, I knew she was asking if this much alcohol was messing with my emotions. “Are you feeling…?”
She trailed off, unsure of what I could be feeling.
“I’m fine.” I swallowed and closed my eyes against the bright parking lot lights. “I mean, I’m not
fine
. But I’m fine. You know?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. My eyes snapped open just as she started to close the door. I quickly reached up and grabbed for her arm. I missed, but still, she froze.
“Did I make a mistake?” My voice was strained with panic and I could feel my wide eyes watering.
She crouched down with a soft look of understanding on her face. “Maybe. Can I ask you why you said no?”
“You know why.” I released her arm and looked down at all four of my hands.
I saw two of her nod in my periphery. “But I want to hear you say it. I think
you
need to hear you say it.”
“I don’t…”
“Don’t what?” she pushed.
“Sherry, I’m never going to get better.” I paused as the tears started to silently fall. “Sometimes I feel like someone just dropped me here, like maybe God created me but forgot to create others like me. And sometimes I think I’m sad just because I can’t find them. So I think that if I keep working at, keep trying to get better, one day I’ll fit in somewhere. I’ll be enough for someone.” I shook my head and rolled it on the headrest toward her. “Is this making sense?”
“Yeah, it is.”
The cool track marks of my tears felt strange against my hot face as I continued. “I mean obviously you and Naomi—”
“I know,” she assured me quickly. “It’s a different kind of belonging.” I nodded as a haunted look quickly passed through her face. “How does Gabe make you feel?”
“Incredible. But when I thought about dating again I wasn’t thinking about the other person. And now that person has a name and a face, and he’s such a good person, Sherry. He shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”
“I think that’s his decision.”
But he didn’t know, he hadn’t been around me when I was so lethargic that all I would do was lie in bed or sit on the couch just staring at the TV for days. He didn’t know, so how could he really make that call? But I knew, and I could honestly say I was doing him a favor.
“But that’s not all this is about…” Sherry prompted after I stayed quiet for a few minutes.
Weary, I lifted my head. Protecting him was only part of it; at the end of the day I was also protecting myself. “What if his decision is to walk away? I couldn’t handle that again. Especially not from him.”
“That’s all anyone’s fear is when it comes to relationships. He has the same ones. I have the same ones. I know you think this is about your depression, but at the end of the day it’s the same fear that everyone else has.”
Sherry ran her hand through my hair as she pushed it behind my ear. “Even though you say that you know this is a forever thing, I think you’re secretly waiting for this perfect moment where a banner will drop down with big bold letters saying HEALED! But you have to truly face the reality that this could be something you deal with for the rest of your life, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m afraid that if you keep waiting for yourself to be perfect, you’re never going to let anyone in.
“We’re all a little messed up, Alara. We’ve all been hurt. And sometimes it takes a little while for us to find someone who complements us. But I think you’ve found it, and I hope once you think about it, you’ll see that you have too.” She wasted no time in gently shutting the door before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. And as blackness set in and my eyes drooped shut, I couldn’t help but think that I had more questions than answers.
I hadn’t seen Alara since the night of karaoke over two weeks ago. That first night I was annoyed, pissed, sad, and hurt. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe she just needed time. I had a week to work up the nerve to ask, and maybe she needed that as well. So I gave her a week, and that week came and went. Now it had been two weeks and I was right back to the beginning: annoyed, pissed, sad, and hurt, which led me to the stupid,
stupid
,
STUPID
decision of agreeing to lunch with Miranda.
She called two days ago, right in the middle of my pity party, saying she wanted to have dinner. I compromised and said we could do lunch because somehow that seemed more appropriate with an ex. And despite her shallow nature, she really wasn’t a bad person. She just never had a reason to think outside what she’d always known. If my mother hadn’t died, I’d still be doing the same things and thinking the same way.
I scanned the tables as I walked into the restaurant, and with a resigned sigh, I made my way over to the table in the corner once I found her.
“Hi,” she greeted me animatedly as she got out of her chair to hug me. I stood back as far as I could without it being awkward and gave her a one-handed pat on the back.
“Hey. How are you?” I asked as I sat down across from her with my back facing the rest of the restaurant.
“I’ve been better.” She smiled sadly. “I have something I need to tell you, but first I wanted to apologize for how I acted the last time we saw each other.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
Miranda nodded thoughtfully before picking up her glass of wine and taking a sip. “You know, you could have been a real ass about all this. That shit I said to you was pretty unforgivable.” She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but she quickly continued, “I’m so sorry, Gabe. What I said about your mom… I’m ashamed I said those things. She was like a second mother to me and I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have even thought those things. Your mother never cared about that kind of stuff. You could be the President of the United States or just a bum who collected cans and she’d love you the same.”
“Yeah, she was pretty incredible like that.” I smiled, remembering all the times my mother tried to get me to leave the financial world. “She never wanted me involved in that stuff.”
“Really?” Despite how much Miranda did love my mother, she had always been closer to my father.
“Yeah, she was always telling me it wasn’t my passion, that I didn’t love it. I never really understood until after she was gone.”