Jay awoke to his body rocking back and forth with a violent vigor often associated with storms at sea. He scrambled to a sitting position on the bed, his heart jumpstarted as he looked around the unfamiliar room and recalled he’d fallen asleep in his clothes last night next to Taryn, who stood beside him with eyes the size of the moon.
“Brad’s here!” she shrieked in a whisper. “His car just pulled up.”
“Okay, so…” He rubbed his eyes, desperate to understand the situation, but the sleep still clouding his brain refused to let logic in.
“You have to get out of here.” Taryn tore the sheets off him and dragged him from the bed. “He’ll be walking through the door any second.”
“How am I supposed to get out? The only exit aside from the front door is off the balcony.” He held up a finger. “And before you ask, no, I’m not jumping.”
The front door opened, and Taryn let out another shriek. “No time!” Before Jay could protest, Taryn ushered him into the wide, two-door closet, kicked his sneakers in after him and shut the door.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the onslaught of a headache. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” What a fucking sitcom. He listened to Taryn scamper from the room and down the hall to presumably meet Brad, and he cursed his luck, which had become part of his normal routine. Jay jammed his feet into his sneakers, stepping on the pointy heel of a woman’s shoe in the process, but silenced his hiss of pain as he heard someone enter the room, kissing and groping another someone.
“I missed you so much, Brad,” Taryn said between kisses as if she hadn’t slept next to Jay all night, even though there had been a healthy stretch of mattress between them.
“I’m so sorry I left,” replied Brad, or so Jay gathered from the crack between the closet doors. Brad cupped Taryn’s face. “It’ll never happen again. I promise.”
She smiled like an angel with a devil’s intentions. “Make it up to me?”
In one fluid, continuous move, Brad had Taryn on her back, her pajama pants off, and his head between her legs, and Taryn erupted into a series of high-pitched moans.
Jay sat back in the closet atop a haphazard pile of dirty laundry and dropped his head against the wall. He’d officially reached a new all-time low. Whoever thought he’d come to this point? On the day he met Kimber, never did his sixteen-year-old self imagine him in this predicament.
As always, he wondered what she was up to. Taryn’s wails of pleasure brought to mind a nasty assumption. Was Dane still at Kimber’s? Were they lying in bed, giggling and having a conversation that only made sense to them as they delayed the inevitable rising to greet the day? Were they sleeping, limbs entangled, or was he between her legs and thrusting inside her like he had last night?
Jay’s stomach turned over and tears stung his eyes. The whole situation had spun so out of control he couldn’t think himself to any conclusion. Maybe there was none. Maybe this was it.
Through the crack, Jay could see Taryn lost in bliss, holding Brad’s head close to her pussy as she gyrated against his face. The sight reminded him of how Kimber had looked when he’d gone down on her, a memory that did nothing to abate morning wood. He couldn’t believe it was an actual memory; it had been so surreal he felt like he’d dreamed it, yet he could recall every aspect in its entirety, from her breathy moans and “oh Gods” to how her inner thighs had brushed his face to her smile to how silky wet she was, and the rosy blush on her face as she neared climax…
He already had his cock out and in his hand before he made the decision to do so. He stroked in time to Taryn’s cries, which built in frequency and pitch until she tugged Brad upward and turned over with her ass in the air. Brad unzipped his pants and slammed into her with the force of a man possessed by the call of his primitive side.
Jay watched the couple screw and scream their way to a sexual release, half-registering what was happening and half-picturing himself doing the same to Kimber. He imagined taking her from behind and burying his cock inside her to the hilt, her ass bouncing with every thrust and her moaning his name.
Soon his hand and cock went slick with his cum, and his arousal ebbed to an overwhelming depression. It was quite possibly the most pathetic, loneliest thing in the world to jerk off to someone who hated you. The empty cavern in his chest widened as he grabbed one of the socks from the laundry and wiped himself clean while Taryn and Brad collapsed in a sweaty heap atop the bed, still moaning and mewling. He’d been mistaken-this was a new all-time low. Just when he thought the limit had been reached, he somehow managed to push past it. So ambitious.
Brad and Taryn exchanged more hushed laughs, whispers and kisses until finally Brad left the room and Jay heard the shower running. Taryn then sprung from the bed, wrapped herself in a sheet, and flung open the closet door. “I’m so sorry.” She blushed, although what was left to be modest about? “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I know the feeling.” Jay got to his feet, his legs cramped and aching.
“You go outside. I’ll meet you on the steps.”
“Fine.” He wondered what she could possibly say to him as he left the apartment undetected by Brad, who was singing “Kryptonite” in the shower when he walked past the bathroom. He sat on the concrete front steps of the building, praying to whatever deity on duty that may have been listening that he didn’t run into Dane or Kimber or worse, both of them together.
Taryn, to her credit, didn’t leave him waiting long, and he stood as she emerged wearing a bathrobe and slippers shaped like smiling clouds. She gave him a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you properly. Not that anything that’s happened has been proper.”
“That’s for damn sure.” He kicked a stray rock that had somehow made its way onto the sidewalk.
“But when has anything been proper, really?” Taryn shrugged. “I can’t think of a single time in my life when something’s gone by the book or been normal. Nothing’s ever been easy.” She smiled at him and gave his shoulder a light punch. “What I’m trying to say is that people are surprising, and that’s something to be happy about.”
Jay heaved a sigh, emptying his lungs. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”
“Exactly.” Taryn held his face in her hands, obliging him to look at her. “And that, my friend, is a beautiful thing.”
Kimber awoke the next morning alone although the TV blasted in the next room. She padded into the living room to see Dane on the couch, eating from a can of ravioli beneath a poorly executed afghan she’d once made when she was going through her knitting phase. His eyes were on the TV but he looked up and smiled when Kimber entered. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the can aside, then stretched his arms toward her. “Bables.”
“What’re you doing out here?” She collapsed on the couch beside him, avoiding his reach.
“Just hanging out. I couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“Just things.” He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels, pausing on Animal Planet. A poodle in a tutu was jumping through a ring of fire. “Cool.”
She plucked the remote from his hand and turned off the TV.
He looked to her with a contrite grin and rubbed her knee. “I was thinking about how stupid I was, falling asleep on you last night before anything could happen. Damn, I definitely wanted to see that through. You were never like that before. I’m a lucky guy.”
Kimber narrowed her eyes. “Why are you lucky?”
“Because. I get to call the sexiest chick in this dump of a town my girlfriend.”
She crossed her arms. “We’re not together, Dane.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. You and I-we don’t work. We don’t make sense.”
“But…” His satisfied expression became one of bewilderment. “But I want you in my life.”
“What about what I want?”
“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Not anymore. We have too many problems. It’s like a giant onion of problems, with all sorts of layers, and we just can’t get to the core of anything. They’ll never be fixed.”
“Everyone has problems, bables. We’ll fix ours.”
“Stop calling me that.” She rose from the couch and paced the length of the room. “And we won’t fix them. We can’t. If we could, why didn’t we fix them before?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head, looking lost. “I guess I was just being a stubborn jerk.”
“But now you think things could be better.”
“Well, I fucking hope so, Kimber, because I’ve never been this unhappy before in my life. I just don’t feel like myself. I’m not Dane without Kimber.”
“But you are. Everything you are is you without me. You’ve always been you without me.”
“And I don’t want to be,” he insisted. “I don’t understand. Look, I can be a better boyfriend. I’m ready for that now. I want to be good for you. I want to be with you.”
She stopped pacing and stared at him. Dane finally offered what she’d wanted after all these years. He knew the script; he knew all the right things to say, as if he’d sifted through the card aisle at Hallmark to pull his inspiration.
But now the offer wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been before, and it certainly wasn’t now. She thought of Jay, insisting he’d only ever need one chance, and she knew it was true. She would never be sitting around, having a similar conversation with Jay, because-all current events aside-Jay would never blow it like Dane had, over and over, without a second thought. A rush of affection mixed with regret flooded Kimber’s chest, and she sighed. “I think you should go.”
Dane watched her, stunned, his eyes like a battlefield after a war. “Are you really serious? You don’t want to be with me?”
“Come on. You know this doesn’t feel right. It never has.”
He stared at the rug, resembling a little boy whose ice cream just toppled from the cone and onto the hot sidewalk. A few minutes of silence drifted by until finally he clapped his hands on his knees with finality and stood. “Well then. Don’t I feel like a real asshole.”
Kimber sank back down on the couch and noted her apathy toward her ex-boyfriend as she watched Dane jam his feet into his sneakers, his movements slow, like he expected her to change her mind. When she said nothing, he said in a rush, “Y’know, Kimber, I really hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for. And I hope someday you’ll actually let someone try to make you happy, or else you’re going to be really lonely.”
She didn’t mean to laugh, but she did. What the hell was he talking about? Did he know her at all? Probably not, but that didn’t seem to matter now. “Thanks.”
He shook his head, stunned. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being so ‘whatever’ about this? About us?”
Kimber wanted to ask him why he’d been so “whatever” about their relationship for more than half a decade, but that would surely prolong his presence. She shrugged instead.
“Fine. I guess that’s it then.” A long pause followed. “I can’t believe it’s really over.” Panic welled in his eyes. “I don’t understand why we have to end things this way, but if you’re being for real, then for what it’s worth, I just want you to know how fucking sorry I am. You gave me all the love and compassion and caring I could have ever asked for, and I just couldn’t reciprocate and I don’t know why. I’m going to try to get help while I’m at my parents’.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I also want you to know how much I care for you. I care for you endlessly, and you’ve changed my life. If I never talk to you again, I hope that everything works out for you.”
The icy ambivalence around Kimber’s heart melted at the sadness and desperation in Dane’s voice. No matter how she felt toward him now, she had loved him once. He’d been the most important person in her life for a long time, and they’d had good times together. She used to love how he’d hug her tight and sigh her name, and when they’d laze around in bed in the morning, making up songs or drawing “tattoos” on each other with washable markers. One of her favorite memories of the times she’d spent with Dane included the night they drank Corona, watched Roundhouse episodes taped off the TV ten years prior, and kissed during the dated commercial breaks.
But laying around in the darkness giggling and feeling close for a few hours wasn’t a relationship-at least, it didn’t count as one for her any longer. She wanted more than that. She deserved more than that. She deserved more than phone calls after midnight, phone calls that were weeks late, phone calls that were had only on Dane’s terms. She deserved more than four dates in a span of a year, more than no Christmas presents, more than forgotten dates and empty promises. For how much she had cared about a boy whose rash of excessive, downright cartoonish bad luck always featured more prominently in his thoughts than her, she had always deserved more.
Kimber harbored no ill will toward Dane, however. She didn’t feel that he was a bad person, just one who made horrible decisions, and she could certainly emphasize with that. He never maliciously intended to hurt her. He had no master plan to break her heart, no blueprints of how to best her, no satisfaction derived from her misery. They just weren’t compatible. The answer really was that simple.
She got off the couch and hugged him, her heart in pain as his grip around her tightened and he cried into her uncombed hair. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed soothing circles over his back. “You changed my life, too. And I really do wish you the best.”
Dane hiccupped for air then pulled away, not looking at her. “I’m gonna go now.” He opened the door and paused, like he had something more to tell her, but all he said was, “Bye.” Then he was gone, and she knew it was for real this time.
Kimber arrived at Ferney’s just as her sister and Paul were in the process of breakfast-misshapen blueberry pancakes served on Star Wars dishes.
“Paul made them himself.” Ferney, wearing a silky black Victoria’s Secret robe, cut into a pancake doused in syrup using the side of her fork and took a bite, making exaggerated mmm noises.
“Careful there, my little waif.” Kimber nodded to Ferney’s plate. “You may actually be ingesting calories.”
“It’s Saturday. I’m allowed to cheat a bit.”
“Once a week, she pretends she has a tapeworm and inhales everything in the cupboards,” added Paul, who, in addition to eating his pancakes, was alternating taking bites from an apple in one hand and a block of Colby cheese in the other.
“Paul! Quit telling my secrets and get back to what you do best-obeying my every whim.”
“Yes, mistress.” The tiniest of wry smiles teased the corners of Paul’s mouth, and Kimber felt wistful hearing the banter. She’d love the intimacy of teasing a boyfriend about quirks learned only through loving someone.
“Hungry?” Ferney patted Kimber’s back. “Do you want Paul to make you some pancakes?”
“I’ll just have some coffee.”
“Paul, be a love and pour Kimmy some caffeine.”
He put aside his apple and cheese and heeded Ferney’s command, despite also manning the browning pancakes, and passed the coffee to Kimber in a faux-mangled mug reading I Got Smashed in New York City, along with the cream and sugar.
“Isn’t this fun?” Ferney asked. “It’s like we’re at a diner.”
“I bet I get stiffed like a diner waiter, too,” Paul said.
“That will be true if the wait staff doesn’t remain seen and not heard. Now, Kimber.” Ferney wiped her mouth with her napkin and crossed her legs, resting her shoulders against the breakfast nook’s high-backed bench. “Let’s hear about your night with Dane. I want all the details.”
Kimber summed up the events concerning Dane, lacking emotional investment in her own story. It was like partaking in an obligatory sensible dinner when all she wanted to do was skip to dessert, the whole reason she was there.
“You really booted him out for good?” Ferney gave a polite golf clap. “Good for you. Finally.”
“Mmm.” Kimber twirled her spoon in her coffee, chewing her lower lip.
Ferney sighed. “I shouldn’t be so surprised though. I knew it’d be easy for you to forget Dane the moment you found someone else to make you miserable.”
That her sister’s words stung so much shocked Kimber, and she folded forward and burst into tears.
“Oh shit. I’m a terrible sister.” Ferney slid across the bench toward Kimber and smoothed her hair. “This is about Jay, isn’t it?”
“Everything’s such a mess.” No matter how often Kimber wiped her eyes, tears continued to spill from them of their own accord. “I don’t know what I want to do.”
“You want to be with him.”
“No.” However, the idea spoken aloud by someone else sent a rush of inexplicable optimism through her.
“Yes, you do. You just have too much pride to see past it.”
“Speaking of pride, how much of mine do I have to swallow to be with him since I heard him fucking the neighbor last night?” Kimber snapped, wiping her eyes and trying to regain her composure. “That’s a pretty clear indicator of him not giving a shit about me, I’d think.”
“And last night you were with Dane and pining for Jay the whole time, so apparently it’s not such a clear indicator after all.” Ferney crossed her arms and gave Kimber a patient, expectant look. “Just tell Jay what he has to do to make it up to you and get back to having amazing sex already.”
Kimber dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then simplify it.” Paul’s firm tone made Kimber look up with surprise.
“Paul, please.” Ferney sighed. “The girls are talking here.”
“Just let yourself feel a certain way without trying to explain them or attaching stipulations on them,” Paul continued as if he hadn’t heard Ferney. “Don’t say, ‘I feel this way but I shouldn’t because of X, Y, and Z.’”
Ferney shook her head. “Oh, Paul. How many times have I told you that if I wanted your opinion, I’d just beat it out of you?”
To Kimber’s shock, Paul picked up the skillet he’d been cooking pancakes in and dropped it in the sink, still sizzling, atop a stack of dirty dishes. He turned to his fiancée, Lucifer blazing in his eyes as he yanked off the frilly apron and hurled it on the counter. “Fuck you, Ferney.” Then he stalked from the room.
A gasp sounded in Kimber’s throat. She’d never seen Paul so angry. She’d never seen Paul convey any emotion, really, except total subservience. “Ferney, is he-”
Ferney patted her sister’s forearm with a few swift slaps. “I’ll go see what his problem is.” She rose from her chair and followed Paul, and Kimber heard the bedroom door slam and them lapse into an argument.
Uneasy, she wandered outside on the front porch, out of earshot, and sat on the top step. She watched a little girl push a stroller holding an American Girl doll around in circles in the driveway across the street, and she wished she could meet herself when she was that age. She’d tell seven-year-old Kimber to follow her heart, stay away from trans fats, and not agree to fucking strangers while wearing a blindfold. That was some wise wisdom, she felt.
The screen door swung open behind her and she turned to see Paul exit the house and give a nod as he sat on one of the patio chairs. “You may not have noticed this,” he said, “but your sister’s one bossy bitch.”
Kimber gave a weak chuckle, startled at Paul’s choice of words, now anything but deferential. “That’s putting it gently.”
“Yeah. Sometimes she takes it too far though. Sometimes I think about what life would be like without her in the director’s chair, if you know what I mean.”
She swallowed hard, the conversation taking a very uncomfortable turn. “I don’t think I should be hearing-”
“Sometimes I think about being with someone else, someone who never cracked a whip, and sure, that’s fine and all. But then who will do all the things Ferney does that I absolutely love? I know you girls think I’m a total dweeb, always hiding behind a comic book, but truth is I’ve actually dated a lot of girls-a fact your sister gets really jealous about but refuses to admit. And I’ve come to realize that a little loss of autonomy is nothing compared to how Ferney makes me feel on the whole.
“What I’m trying to get at in my jumbled, roundabout way is that in real life, nothing will ever be exactly as we want it to be. But it can come pretty damn close, and if we don’t recognize that, we’ll always be dissatisfied and miss out on some really amazing experiences.
“I don’t know all the details and Ferney’s actually good about keeping confidences, but this guy you talk about… It seems like he did a terrible thing that was out of character, out of desperation, and it sounds like you’ll be a lot unhappier without him if you decide it’s right not to forgive him. Like I said in the kitchen, just try feeling whatever it is you feel for him without justifying why. Go with it. See what happens.”
“Damn, Paul.” Kimber gave a nervous giggle. “You’re like the Silent Bob to Ferney’s Jay. I feel like I’m in Chasing Amy right now.”
He smiled. “I wish you a more resolved ending then. And I’m sure you’ll get it.”
“Thanks.” For the first time, she felt like maybe the resolved ending could be a happy one as well. “How’d you get to be so wise?”
“Blueberry pancakes aren’t my only specialty.”
Ferney joined them on the porch, still clad in her bathrobe and looking sullen like a spanked child. She stalked across the gritty wooden planks to Paul, and Kimber wondered if her sister was going to ream into him within earshot of the entire block; Ferney had a voice that carried. Instead, Ferney crawled into Paul’s lap like an oversized cat, looking contrite. “I’m sorry.” She wound her arms around his neck. “I was being a bitch.”
“A little.” Paul squeezed her back. “I forgive you.”
“Wow.” Kimber rubbed her eyes. “Did I just see what I think I saw-Ferney apologizing?”
“Yes, and you best forget you ever did.” Ferney’s voice was muffled in Paul’s shirt.
“Your sister is a very proud, stubborn creature,” Paul said, as if he had to explain.
“But I’m also fantastic in bed, so Paul can’t stay mad at me for long,” Ferney added, although her tone lacked her usual confidence, and her barb seemed to seek reassurance that everything was still okay.
Paul looked to Kimber and shrugged as he stroked Ferney’s back. “What can I say but forgive? If you want to continue with someone, that’s just what you have to do.”
Kimber looked down at her hands. “Even if that person doesn’t deserve it?”
“Do you really think he doesn’t?” Paul asked. “And who are you really punishing if that’s what you decide?”
Those two questions clung to Kimber for the rest of the day and long into the night. The sheer possibility of forgiving Jay and being with him despite their unfortunate beginning was like discovering a new window in a room she’d lived in all her life.
Maybe he did deserve it. Maybe she did, too.