Wherever the Dandelion Falls (52 page)

Faye looked at me in surprise and said, "Different how?"

I shrugged. "If we weren't in public or if this wasn't new to you."

Faye bit her lip and frowned, looking down at the sidewalk for a moment. Then she pulled my elbow until my hand came out of my pocket and slid her hand into mine.

"New isn't fragile," she said.

She squeezed my hand and I felt like I could shoot up into the sky and fly.

Once I realized that Faye wasn't ready to be an official thing, I backed off. I still brought over extra cookies and texted her to see if she wanted to watch movies with me and Justine. I still laughed at all her jokes and came just as hard when we had sex. She seemed to exhale when she realized I was giving her room to breathe.

Our dating script was different, starting with the fact that we weren't going to call it dating, even though we both knew we were. Saying it out loud was just too much for her right now. I could allow her all the baby steps in the world if it meant that every once in a while, she would be open and blooming for me and hold me without saying anything. Her trembling little steps weren't linear or predictable, and sometimes she stumbled away and fell. But she always got back up.

I noticed she took more and more steps forward when I didn't approach or encourage her. One evening, I was awakened by the buzzing of my phone on my desk and realized I'd been asleep longer than I had intended to nap. That was okay, though, since I wasn't working that night. Between bartending at Jules', being with Faye as much as I could, and working on my business plan for Michael, my sleep schedule was way off. But I was happy, for the most part, so I didn't mind being a little tired.

I answered the phone and sounded groggy as I closed my eyes and settled back into the pillow and said, "Hey."

"Hey," Faye said. "Are you sleeping?"

"Yeah," I said. "But it's okay. I should get up and go over my proposal one more time."

"Oh." Faye sounded disappointed. "If you have time later, I made too much food."

It was an invitation to come over for dinner. Knowing she wouldn't outright ask me, I tried to wake myself up. "Okay. I'll be there in five." I could always wake up early and go over my business plan in the morning.

"Bring your proposal. I want to see it."

Smiling, I mumbled that I would before prying myself out of my bed and shuffling around in the dark for a sweatshirt and shoes. I printed out a copy of my proposal, squinting at the glare of my computer in the dark, and dashed through the drizzle outside to her house.

When I arrived, it was obvious that she'd intentionally cooked for two. She never made salad and pasta and garlic bread and dessert for just herself. She wanted to make me dinner but wasn't ready to call it a date, so she tried to make it look like an accident.

I didn't let her know I knew. I just smiled extra hard and sat down at the makeshift table in the center of her floor: she'd set up an upside-down laundry basket with a sheet on top of it, and pillows for us to sit on. The only thing that would have made it more obvious we were on a dinner date would have been if she put a candle between our plates.

"Looks delicious," I said, grinning.

"Thanks," Faye said, avoiding eye contact as she settled into her place across from me.

As I picked up my fork, prepared to pepper her cooking with compliments, I realized that we weren't drinking either. She really was making a huge effort to face something that scared her.

"Are you excited for your meeting tomorrow?" Faye asked, picking up her fork.

I nodded, mouth already full of salad. I chewed quickly and said, "Nervous, but mostly excited. I like Michael a lot."

"Good," Faye said. "What kinds of events did you put on the schedule?"

I tilted my head toward where I'd left my proposal on her desk, then said, "I tried to focus more on single's events. He said they already have a lot of couples who come in and he wants to mix things up. So stuff like speed dating and screenings of cute LGBT films and TV shows. Things that are structured enough to not require tons of alcohol for people to get comfortable."

Faye gave me a confident smile. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"I hope," I said, worrying that I'd have to keep working at Jules' forever if he didn't like what I'd come up with.

It was quiet for a moment as Faye and I stared intently at our food. It felt awkward to be sitting there together on what was obviously a date when we weren't going to call it dating.

"How was your day?"

Visibly relaxing at my course correction, Faye nodded. "Pretty good. Almost done with my big project for Research Methods."

"Good," I smiled. That project had been weighing on her for weeks. I asked her more about it and then our conversation meandered into safer topics like music and money and her plans for after her exams. She didn't say anything about spending time with me, but when she said she just wanted to "relax and enjoy the city," I could only hope she meant more time snuggled up with me. I desperately needed to be close to her whenever I could.

"I keep meaning to tell you,” Faye said. “I went to the student health clinic the other day. I got my results back this morning and everything is good. So we're good."

I was surprised by Faye's initiative, but I supposed I shouldn't have been. She was better at showing rather than telling. I suddenly felt bad that I hadn't done her the same courtesy.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll do the same tomorrow."

Faye nodded. "I'm glad you're cool with this," she said, almost mumbling.

Unsure what she meant, I said, "Cool with what?"

Faye tucked her head down. "With being just friends."

My stomach clenched and I paused with my fork in midair.

I'd never agreed to be just friends. I'd agreed to be in a non-traditionally-defined monogamous relationship with her. There was nothing platonic about us. I didn't know how to object to her assertion that we could be boiled down to just friends. I had told her I loved her. Saying she was glad I was cool with being just friends trivialized what I'd said.

"Um," I said, tripping over my words. “Don't
—
don't say…" But I didn't want to tell her not to say something. We were friends in addition to everything else. "It's more complicated
—
I mean, we still have sex."

"Yeah," Faye said. It was clipped and anxious.

The weirdest change that had happened since we'd talked and agreed to be exclusive was that Faye would balk if I tried to initiate sex when she was sober. If she was tipsy or if she initiated it, everything was fine. But if I approached her for sex in a situation like this, she would get spooked and shut me out.

I didn't like not being able to hold her hand in public or introduce her to my friends as my girlfriend, but the sex thing bothered me most because sometimes I didn't know how to express things without at least kissing her.

Realizing I was venturing into dangerous territory that could make her shutter up for the rest of the night, I veered in another direction.

After dinner I hung around long enough to show her my proposal, but then excused myself to go stew in my sadness. Faye was a mess of contradictions, and no matter how much I loved her, it was draining to be around.

The following day, I met with Michael at his café, which I'd scoped out while drafting my events calendar. It was enough space to do cool things, but not too big that it lost any intimacy. I liked it.

I was so amped up and nervous about the interview, I don't remember much of it, only that my face hurt from smiling. My words were a little more forced and twice I stuttered, but overall, I thought it went pretty well.

Before I knew it, the interview was over. I looked at my watch and saw it had been an hour. Had I been talking for that long? It seemed like fifteen minutes. Michael gave me an unreadable smile and a handshake and told me he'd call me.

I didn't know what that meant. I was much more nervous now, worried I'd embarrassed myself in front of Dave's boyfriend. I walked out on shaky legs and called Faye. She answered immediately.

“How'd it go?" she asked, anxious.

"I'm not sure."

"Want me to come over?" Faye offered.

I was surprised by her offer. She preferred to spend time at her house where we had total privacy, but it was sweet that she was willing to come over and comfort me. I knew she could tell I was nervous.

"I was going to go to the clinic…"

"You can go tomorrow."

"Okay."

"I'm on my way," Faye said.

We arrived at my apartment at the same time, and walked upstairs quietly together. She asked me a few more questions about my interview, and I gave distracted answers. I couldn't stop replaying fragments of my interview over and over. My head was getting too noisy and I was getting agitated.

There was one thing I knew would settle me. But I knew if I asked for it directly, she would retreat.

So I looked at her with pleading eyes and took her hand gently. "I'm kind of worked up," I mumbled. "My brain won't shut off."

Giving an understanding nod, Faye led me to my bedroom and proceeded to undress me. We had some pretty good sex before falling asleep in my bed. And although I would have loved to have looked into her eyes and told her how I felt about her, I soothed myself with reminders that once it had been a big step for her to spend the night at all. There was no way we were just friends with benefits. We were something more.

But it became harder to believe that when other people were around. It stunned me when Faye gave me a quick peck on the lips at the door in front of Justine the next morning. I was so happy, I could have tackled her or pushed her up against the wall, undoing her pants again to show her how grateful I was that she was trying. But her eyes flickered to Justine and her smile became nervous, so I just squeezed her hand and let the soaring feeling envelope my chest for the next hour.

I realized that it was okay to ask for sex as long as I didn't make it specific to her. I could text her and tell her I was horny, and she would invite me over, or I could show up at her apartment with a guilty smirk. I could ask if she was busy, and if she wasn't, I could walk over to her place and immediately lie on her bed, stretching out in a manner unrelated to muscle soreness. But if I made it about her or about wanting to be close to her specifically or hinted at lovemaking instead of sex, she would tense up and make excuses to not get naked with me.

Which I learned to live with, though it was far from ideal.

That afternoon, after a quick trip to the local clinic, I was washing dishes when I got a call from Michael.

"Riley," he said with a pleasant bravado. "How'd you like to start in two weeks?"

Thrilled, I dropped the sponge. "I'd love to!"

"Fantastic," Michael said, a decisive tone in his voice. "I'll email you some paperwork and then it'll be official. Welcome aboard!"

It was quick and joyous and he had hung up before I fully processed what had happened. The first thing I did was call Faye, who shrieked with happiness for me. Hearing her excitement helped me process that I'd actually just accepted an offer for a promising new job. As soon as I got home from my shift that night, I ran to Faye's for some naked celebration as the sun rose.

That afternoon I got a call from the clinic that my results had been processed and all my lab work had come back negative. I texted Faye a quick,
Clinic says we're all good ;)
, to which she replied
Cool
.

And we were.

Two weeks later, on the morning of my last shift at Jules', I was at Faye's when Kimi called me early in the morning to tell me she was engaged. I was so happy for her. I let my joy overflow through the phone, congratulating her and shrieking in delight when she asked me to be a bridesmaid. I was swept into the romance and excitement of knowing a wedding was coming in the following year.

But as soon as I hung up and looked at Faye, I felt it fade away. She was looking at me with an expectant smile. She had heard my shrieking and wanted to know what it was about.

"My sister got engaged," I said, looking down at my phone.

"Oh, wow," Faye said. "Is that a good thing?"

Biting my lip, I nodded. "Yeah, it's a good thing," I said. "She loves John. They're good together."

"That's great," Faye said, smoothing the sheets next to her in an invitation to snuggle.

"Yeah..." I said as I crawled back into her.

Then I looked up at her and couldn't help but think that Kimi's wedding would remind me of everything that was hard about being with Faye. We weren't officially together, so I wouldn't have a date for the wedding.