Wherever the Dandelion Falls (56 page)

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

When I awoke in the morning, Faye was still curled into me, clinging with fear even in sleep. She was so small and scared, I drew her closer to me, melding my armor with hers. I took deep breaths, as though they would flow from my lungs into hers, calming her. But of course they didn't. She quivered a bit in sleep, and I wondered what she was dreaming about. I could see her eyes darting about beneath her eyelids, and wondered what kind of god or spirit would let the same demons that plagued her in the day haunt her in sleep. I drew her closer to me and rubbed her back, trying to frighten the demons away with my strength. She shuddered again before she jerked, awakening suddenly, eyes flying open.

She pushed a few inches away from me, as though stunned to find herself in my arms. Her eyes were wide and I braced myself, retracting my armor from her to shield myself from her daggers of fear. But they didn't come. She settled, then exhaled, curling back into me. "Hi," she mumbled, nestling her head against my chest.

I was so stunned by her closeness, I didn't know what to do. I rubbed her back again and echoed, "Hi."

She took a few deep breaths and then said, "Thanks for coming over last night."

"Of course," I said.

There was a moment of silence that seemed strange in the morning light. She'd never been this peaceful in my arms in the daytime. "You smell good," she whispered.

"I probably smell like you," I said, noting that I was in her apartment wearing her clothes, wrapped in her fabric-softener scented sheets.

"No, you smell like my Riley," she said.

My heart raced to the point I was certain she could hear it. Her Riley.

She'd called me hers.

"My best friend," she said, trying to sound casual, as though that was all she'd meant by her Riley.

And I felt heavy, again reminded that she was clinging to the pretense of friendship when we had so much more.

I just lay there, trying to savor the time I got to hold her without her jerking away.

I guess only time would tell our fate. And I hoped, like love, that our future would be patient and kind.

When I got inside my apartment, I felt tears stinging. How had my night with Faye gone so wrong? I had thought we'd end up spending the night in her bed, but instead she'd called me a phony and brought up every bad feeling I'd had about dating Vance. I was angry at her, and beyond that, I was angry at myself for still being upset about him. He meant so much less to me than Faye did, but he was still ruining everything. I sealed myself in my room and changed into my pajamas, not wanting to shed any tears, but feeling them squeeze out anyway.

Five minutes later, I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water when there was a timid knock at the door. Assuming it was Faye, I buttoned myself up and went to the door, prepared to hold my ground. I had done nothing wrong, and I wasn't going to back down.

But when I opened the door, I realized I wouldn't have to hold firm. Faye had her hands nervously clasped in front of her, worrying her jewelry as she waited for me to open the door.

I didn't say anything, just waited for her to speak.

"I am
so
sorry," she mumbled, ashamed. "I was a complete jerk tonight."

I bit my lip and nodded. I was glad she had realized she was in the wrong.

"You didn't deserve any of that." There was an awkward pause as she peered into the apartment, no doubt looking for Justine. "Can we talk?"

Feeling myself soften at the sight of her so remorseful and anxious, I decided to listen to what she had to say.

I gave a little nod and stepped out into the hallway, turning the doorknob to make sure it wasn't locked before closing the door behind me. I didn't want to invite her into my apartment. Inviting her in meant that I might have a hard time getting her to leave if I got angry or overwhelmed.

Faye looked surprised but determined when I denied her entrance to my apartment, but took a breath as she followed me to the stairs. Finding a comfortable seat on the second step down, I looked up at her, wordlessly inviting her to join me. She did, just as nervous as before, but defenseless and sad.

She sat, adjusting her skirt over her knees, and then shifted so her body was angled toward me.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated, voice low so it wouldn't echo in the stairwell. "I was an asshole to you tonight." It was quiet for a minute before she looked at me hopefully. "Will you accept my apology?"

Biting my lip as I contemplated, I gave a tentative nod. "I was hoping you could tell me what that was about, though. It came out of nowhere."

"I know," Faye said, leaning forward and propping her head up on her fingers like she had a headache. "That was
—
that was about Erin. She was the first girl I really cared about after Andrea, and I was so young and newly out of the closet, her dating a guy right after we broke up felt like the biggest betrayal in the world."

I nodded, trying to imagine how hurt Faye had felt. "Was it about him being a guy or the fact that he wasn't you?"

Faye gave a defeated shrug. "I probably would have been just as upset if she'd dated a girl." She reached down and tugged on a stray tuft of worn industrial carpet. "I was sad to not be with her anymore, and she seemed like she'd found something I couldn't give her."

I nodded in sympathy. "Do you know for sure that that thing was a penis?" I asked, trying to walk the line between a sincere question and a joke.

Faye winced in appreciation of my gentle humor. "I doubt it. It's just easier to be mad at a dick than someone you care about."

I bit my lip and scooted an inch closer to Faye. “If it's easier to be mad at a dick than someone you care about, be mad at Vance, 'cuz he's a total dick."

Faye nodded and slumped toward me as she sighed. "I just got jealous and insecure when you said that you slept with him when we haven't slept together yet." She lifted her hand and put in on my arm as she gazed blankly down the stairs. "I can't believe I spewed all that biphobic bullshit at you. What is my
problem
?"

Reaching to run my hand over her limp arm, I said, "Caring about people is complicated."

"It shouldn't be." Faye let out another defeated sigh. "I'm sorry I ruined our night. I wanted it to be special.”

I looked at her sitting there and realized that she was far more insecure about our relationship than I thought she was. Not having sex was making her doubt that I cared about her. And while I didn't want to have sex out of obligation or guilt, I did want her to know that she was special to me.

"I want to take our relationship to the next level too, you know," I said.

Faye perked up, but was hesitant.

"I would introduce you to my family, but they're in Michigan and New York. So how about I throw a little dinner party so you can meet my friends?"

Smiling at my understanding that she needed a sign from me that I liked her, she said, "I'd love that."

I patted her arm to reassure her that she hadn't blown her chance. "And don't worry, sex will happen too. Just... try not to freak out over the fact that I've had sex with men."

Faye nodded. "I've had sex with men too, you know," she offered.

Realizing I didn't know much about Faye's sexual history, I said, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I was kind of a slut in high school," she said, her words turning up in the corners as she smiled.

I giggled at her smug self-deprecation. "You? Slutty?" I teased.

"So slutty," she said, smiling to let me know she didn't mean it. "I had sex with three guys before I could drive."

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" I said in mock alarm.

Faye chuckled. "Pretty sure. I can take a test if that would make you more comfortable. You don't want to have to fight any of my potential baby daddies."

"I could take them," I said, trying to sound tough to help relax Faye. "You and I did a pretty good job beating the proverbial shit out of Vance."

The playful energy between us died down and I immediately regretted making that reference. Faye wasn't smiling anymore. She was just staring down the stairs, looking dismayed.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I won't talk about him."

It was quiet for a moment before she said, "It's okay. I'm curious though… what did you mean when you said he made you feel bad about yourself?"

I debated whether or not I wanted to tell her what had happened. Thinking about waking up alone in that hotel room made me feel so much shame. But Faye was my girlfriend, and someone I intended to have sex with eventually, so I supposed she should know.

I took a deep breath.

"We went on a few dates, and I thought he liked me. I slept with him, and when I woke up the next morning, he had bailed. He didn't call or text or anything."

Faye leaned into me as she cooed. "Aw, baby… I'm sorry." She leaned in and gave me a gentle, consoling kiss on the cheek. "He's an idiot." She wrapped a hand around my side and pulled me into her, and I felt myself melt. She nuzzled my cheek and I felt some of my shame and guilt float away like a balloon.

I realized I should have told Faye earlier about what had happened with Vance. She probably wouldn't have approached him or reacted the way she did earlier if she'd known.

And I wondered if maybe there were important things from her past that I didn't know about yet.

"Maybe we should talk about our past relationships," I said. "It would probably help us understand each other."

Faye bit her lip and nodded. "Does it have to be tonight?" she asked. I could hear in her voice she was hoping it wouldn't be.

"No."

Relieved, Faye nodded.

I wondered why Faye sounded so relieved. Did she have a Vance in her past? A Dr. Turner? A Damon?

"How many girls have you been with?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"Slept with or dated?"

Not sure which I'd originally meant, I went for the more concrete of the two. "Slept with."

Faye paused. "You really want to know?" she asked.

Suddenly tense, I nodded.

She took a breath and said, "Thirty-two."

Surprised, but realizing I shouldn't be, I bit my lips and nodded, hoping to conceal my reaction. Faye was stunning. Of course she could get as many girls as she wanted.

"I don't want to freak you out," Faye said, smoothing her skirt over her legs. "I know it's a lot."

Wanting to make up for my obvious surprise, I said, "If you were a guy, you'd get high fives for that number."

Unsure, Faye nodded.

Feeling obligated to assure her, I held up my hand. She gave a nervous giggle and lifted her hand to mine in a half-hearted high-five.

"What about you?" she asked. "How many ladies?"

Feeling suddenly inadequate and young, I curled into myself. "Just one," I said. "That girl in college."

Faye nodded and I felt self-conscious about my lack of experience.

Turning slightly away from me and putting her hand on her purse, she paused. "I got you something," she said sheepishly. "I was going to give it to you at my apartment after dessert, but then I started acting like a tool. Now I almost don't want to give it to you because it looks like a lame apology…"

"You already apologized," I said. "It won't look lame."

Pausing as she glanced to the side, Faye pulled out a small velvet box.

Half serious and half joking, I startled back, "Whoa, I'm not ready for that type of commitment…"

She chuckled and said, "It's not a ring."

Hesitant that she was handing me a gift that was more lavish that I was comfortable accepting, I took the box from her hand. I pushed the box open and was relieved to see a simple set of pearl earrings inside. Not too lavish, just tasteful and pretty.

"Aw, Faye," I cooed. "They're beautiful.”