Requited Ch. 05

So, you see, I could have just said something then. I wanted to say it. I've wanted to say it many times, and yet, I haven't.

* * * * *

Ash gets back from spring break and gets back into my bed as if nothing happened. She's the warmest and softest that she's ever been. She tells me all about her vacation. She spent a lot of time with Ruby.

"I took her to this soft play area, Bax, and you should have seen how much fun we had. We were rolling around in this massive ball-pit and she just couldn't stop laughing."

"Wait, did you get in the ball-pit with her?"

"Yeah, obviously."

I laugh, "Um, Ash, I don't think adults are supposed to go in the ball-pit. I don't think that's how it works."

She looks at me as if I'm mad, "That's crazy. We should all go in the ball-pit. I had the best time."

I smile at her and lean down and kiss the tip of her ski-slope of a nose. "You're crazy," I say, "you're crazy in all the best ways."

"What about you? How was your break?"

"It was good. I had a couple of meetings in the city. They went pretty well."

"Oh," she says, "that reminds me. I got a job offer."

"Really? Where?"

She looks up at me, a little tentative. The mood in the room has shifted completely. We were laughing a second ago, now, this might be the most serious we've ever been.

"Where, Ash?"

"East coast." She smiles, "New York City, baby."

"Seriously?! Are you serious?"

"Yeah, my dad spoke to a friend of his and they've offered me a spot. It's a great company. It will be good. We can just try it for a while and if we don't like it, we can always move west in a few years."

"Of course, we're going to like it. It's the best city in the world. We're going to love it. You'll see."

That night, she falls asleep in my arms, tucked up against me, just like always. I lie there and feel many things. The first thing I feel is happy. Obviously, I'm happy. Who wouldn't be happy? It's just that I take a while to fall asleep.

It's just that happy, isn't the only thing I feel.

* * * * *

A few weeks later, I go over to Andy's. Tyler went to Tuscany for the break and has come back with pasta and condiments and wine. He's determined to create an authentic Italian meal for us. By the time I get there, they're at the bottom of a bottle of chianti. Tyler is going to great lengths to sort out the music and the table setting, and Andy is in the kitchen chopping onions.

Sarah and Tyler are having a lively discussion about what she should wear for a date she's going on tomorrow.

"Look, Sar," says Tyler, "the white top is more of a let's-hold-hands-and-get-to know-each-other kind of top, that's all I'm saying. Is that what you're going for?"

"What's wrong with getting to know each other?"

"You were just saying you need to get laid. You literally just said it."

I look over at Andy. He has a very slightly confused look on his face. It's one of the looks I love best on him. It's very slight. His eyes are a little wide. It's like he's come out of a day-dream, and he's wondering how he got here. It's adorable. I can't help smiling whenever I see it.

I see his lips moving. He's talking softly to himself. I strain to hear what he's saying, it looks like, "Why am I the only one cooking?"

I walk over to him, "Need any help?"

"Thanks," he says, "I have no idea why I'm the one cooking this whole meal."

"You're always the one who cooks the whole meal, that's why."

"Ugh, you're right, I should know by now."

"What can I do?"

"Can you chop the garlic?"

I start peeling a piece of garlic. I'm alright in the kitchen, but I'm fumbling a little. The knife I'm using is bigger and sharper than I'm used to, that's the main reason, but probably not the only reason.

"Here," he says, reaching over and taking my hand in his, he holds the flat side of the knife over the garlic and whacks it with the heel of his palm. "It'll be easier to peel now."

He lets go of my hand, but he's still standing close. His chest is touching my shoulder. I bump into him playfully. He smiles. A big, real smile. I'm smiling too. It's taken over my face. I can feel it. He gives me a little nudge back. It's not a big deal. It's nothing, really. It's just that this small little interaction makes me as happy as it's possible for me to be. When I'm with Andy, I feel happy.

I feel nothing but happy.

After dinner, Tyler drags Sarah to her room to nail down the outfit for tomorrow. So far, everything she's suggested has been a bust. He's taking the reins, without much enthusiasm from Sarah.

"I'm telling you, it has to be the black dress." He says.

"I'm not wearing the black dress."

"What's wrong with the black dress? I bought the black dress for your birthday!"

"There's nothing wrong with the black dress. It's perfect. At least, it would be, if I was a stripper."

"My God, you're impossible. Impossible. This is why you're single."

"I'm single because I spend all my time with sodomites, like you."

Tyler is stunned into silence for a second and then starts screeching and falling about laughing.

I can see Andy wants to laugh, too. His eyes are glinting and gleaming. I smile broadly. It feels a bit forced though. A lot of my blood has rushed to my dick. I sit next to Andy on the sofa, and we finish our wine. His knee is close to mine. If I were to move my leg a little, we'd be touching. I remember what he told me in first year, when I asked about his preferences.

"I'm more of a top," he said, "but for the right guy, I like bottoming, too."

I think about that, as I sit beside him. I think about it on the way home. Then, I think about it when I'm alone in my bed. I wonder what kind of guy, is the right kind of guy? The kind of guy that would make Andy want to take it. I wonder if I'm that kind of guy. On the off chance I'm not, I think about what it would be like for me to be the kind of guy Andy likes topping. I think what it would be like, to be naked with Andy. To have his hands on my body. To let him touch me like that. To let him do that to me. To be a sodomite with him.

I think about it until I come, then I keep thinking about it. I also think about Matt, and what it felt like to touch his dick. I must have had rather a lot of wine, because after that, I randomly think about packing the dishwasher with Andy, after dinner. We packed it together. I rinsed the plates and handed them to him, and he stacked them. It's a small, insignificant thing, but it felt so satisfying to do it with Andy.

It kills me how right it feels to be with him.

* * * * *

"You know what we should do?" I say, slightly louder than I need to. I'm walking with Andy, we're on our way back from a night out. I'm a little out of it, but not as out of it as I'm letting him think. He has my arm around his neck and he's holding onto my wrist. He has his other arm around my waist. Every now and then, I stumble slightly, not because I'm wasted, just because I like it when he tightens his grip on me, "We should move in together next year."

"What?"

"Yesh," I turn and point my finger close to his face, "thash what we should do."

Fine. Maybe, I'm a little drunker than I thought.

"Oh, West." He says, shaking his head at me and sighing deeply.

"Come on. We should do it. We'll have the best time."

"We can't do that, West."

"Why not? We had the best time. Didn't we? Didn't we have the best time when we lived together?"

"Oh, West." He sighs again, "We can't live together, because you're going to be living with Ashleigh."

"What? Who said that? Why do you say that?"

He looks at me sympathetically, "You'll see."

* * * * *

Andy must be telepathic, or something, because not long after that, Ash starts mentioning our living arrangements for next year.

"Did I mention that my parents have a place in Soho? It's only one bedroom, but it's pretty cute."

"Cool," I say, "are you planning on living there?"

"Maybe, or maybe we should live there."

My throat feels inexplicably dry. "But, but, we haven't spoken about that."

"Uh, Bax, what do you think we're doing now? Huh? What are we doing, if we're not communicating about it right now?"

"It's just, I just, I think we just need to think about it."

A while later, she has me right where she wants me and after that, when she's mushy and soft, she whispers into my ear, "Don't string me along, Bax. Please, please, don't string me along."

She's recently been diagnosed with endometriosis. She's super positive about it. Her sister, Allie, has it too and it hasn't been a huge problem for her. Allie is pregnant with her second baby right now. It hasn't caused her any major issues. Still, when Ash talks about it, I can feel her fear. I can feel how worried she is about it.

The level of stress and anxiety this short conversation causes me is untold. My chest feels tight, as though my rib cage is too small for my heart and my lungs.

* * * * *

Things with Ash are different now. After all this time, things are different. They're serious. We've never been serious with each other before. I'm not sure whether it's better or worse, but it's different, that's for sure. We've stopped fighting. We don't even argue. We bicker now. By we, I mean, she bickers. She bickers and nit-picks, but no matter what, she doesn't explode. She's just scratching the surface. Sometimes I'm not sure whether we're really talking, or whether we're just treading water.

"Aren't you lucky?" She's smiling when she says it, but lately, there's a sharp, harsh look in her eyes when she talks like this. "Aren't you lucky you're with someone willing to live across the country from their family just to be with you?"

"Yes," I say quickly, "I'm lucky."

"Hey, wanna get lucky?" She says, smiling seductively and lifting her top.

This is what she does. She slaps me then tickles me. She jabs with her right and strokes with her left.

Ash must have some sort of artistic ability too, because afterwards, after she's jabbed me and stroked me, to a point where I'm wondering how and why I ever got in the ring with her, she paints pictures for me. She paints them with words. Words she whispers into my ear.

"Just think, Bax, we'll have it all. We'll be the people, who have it all. It's going to be amazing. We're going to do well. We're going to have a beautiful house. We're going to have babies. We're going to have the most beautiful babies you have ever seen."

"Hmmm."

"I'll be waiting for you when you get home from work. I'll have the babies bathed and dressed in their little pyjamas and we'll all be waiting for you at the door when you walk up the drive. We'll all go running out to greet you and I'll be saying things like, "Careful, don't get your feet wet, you've just got out of the bath." I won't mind though, not really, because every day, you getting home, will be the best part of our day. The very best part. Every day."

The pictures she paints are beautiful. They're a dream. They're everything I've ever wanted.

If I'd never met Andy, they would be everything I've ever wanted. Everything.

* * * * *

It's the last Saturday before final exams start. I'm out with Andy and Sarah and Tyler. Ash hasn't come out because she's in a huff. I've told her many times that I'm going to live with my Aunt and Uncle when I start work and today, for the first time she heard me. She heard someone saying, "No," and she didn't like it. She didn't take it well.

I'm not feeling my best, tonight, to be honest. Usually, I'm a pretty chill guy. I do get stressed sometimes, obviously, I do. It's just that it usually blows over quickly. I truly believe that things have a way of working out, and so far, I've never been wrong.

I think the last couple of months have probably been the only time in my life that I've felt continual stress for any great length of time. It's not just Ash, though she definitely hasn't been helping. The main thing that's worrying me, is that I keep thinking about what Andy said last summer, about this being the end of an era. The end of a significant time in my life. I think about what he said about things changing and all of us drifting apart.

I called my mom earlier today and asked her about her college friends.

"Oh," she said, "I'm still in touch with a few. I still see Di and Susan from time to time and I hear from Nicole now and again, too. We chat on the phone once or twice a year."

Nicole was my mom's closest friend from college.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

She thinks for a while, "It's been a while. Gosh, it must be five or six years. Not since she moved to New Mexico."

I remember when she moved to New Mexico. I don't forget things like that. I was sixteen. It was eight years ago. They haven't seen each other for eight years.

I look over at Andy. He's just ordered a round of drinks for us and he and Tyler are carrying them over to our table. I imagine what my life would be like if I hadn't seen him for eight years. I feel physical pain at the thought. I feel a deep, heavy pain in my chest. He sits down next to me and hands me my beer. He looks at me for a second. He holds eye contact for a moment. Our eyes meet and for a second, I feel like I can see inside him. For a second, I feel like he can see inside me, too.

That second tells me everything I need to know about why I've never told Andy I'm bi. It tells me everything I'll ever need to know about that. It answers the real question, as Matt put it.

I can't imagine my life without Andy. I don't want to imagine my life without Andy in it. I can't face it. The real reason I haven't told Andy is because I know that if I tell him, it's going to be a very short leap for me to make a move. I know that it's going to be impossible for me not to make a move. I know that if he knows I'm into guys, the next time I tell him I love him, he's going to see it and he's going to hear it. He's going to see and hear everything I've been hiding for the past four years. I know it.

Even more than that, I know, I know deep in my soul, that if he rejects me, I won't be okay. I won't be close to okay. I won't be able to shrug and say, "No big deal." I won't be able to walk it off with a smile. I won't even be able to take some time and then be cool with it later. Things between us will never be the same. We'll never, ever be able to sit here like this, drinking a beer and laughing like brothers, if I tell him, and he doesn't want me as a lover.

I look around the bar and see so many familiar faces. Most of them are happy. Many of them are already on their way to getting wasted. Everyone I know in this room has played some part in my life during my time here. Some have played a small and immaterial role, in a few years, I'll hardly remember them. Some have played a big role, those people, I'll never forget.

One of the people right here at my table, changed my whole life.

I look up at Andy and raise my beer, "To the end of an era."

* * * * *

Things with Ash are not good. They really are terrible. It's not just the exam stress. For the first time, I can honestly say the good is not outweighing the bad. It's not easy to put my finger on what the problem is. It's not even that she's being particularly hard work. It's just that every time I'm near her, I feel on the edge. Right on the brink. On the verge of a fork in the path. Every time I'm with her, I see two paths my life could take. One with her. A road that could lead to something beautiful. Something I've always dreamed about. Something that will be hard at times, no doubt about that, but it will still be beautiful. The other path looms in front of me like a void. A void filled with nothing but things that are unknown. The worst thing about it, is that as I stand here on the brink, I have an awful, terrifying sense that the course of my life is currently being set, and it's being set, without any deliberate intention from me.

We're at her place and she isn't being great. She's not being terrible either, but she isn't being her best.

"Aren't you lucky," she asks. She has that look in her eye. "Aren't you so lucky you're with someone who's happy to live in a cold, smoggy city filled with rude people, just so she can be with you?"

"Yes," I reply quickly, "I'm lucky."

"Is that what you think a person looks like when they feel lucky?" She's keeping her voice light. Breezy. The undertone couldn't be clearer. "You don't even appreciate the sacrifice I'm making, do you, Bax? Why is that? Hmm?"

She's baiting me and I know it. I take a second to reply. I take a second to think things through. I see my future and I see the fork in the road. I don't snap. It's deliberate. I see a clear choice, and I make it.

I choose the void. I choose the unknown.

"I guess it's because I didn't ask you to."

Even if you'd only met Ash for a few seconds in your entire life, you'd know, that was the wrong thing to say. I know her well, and I say those words anyway.

The storm that erupts is cataclysmic. Earth-shattering. It's more powerful than any squall I've ever seen. As her eyes darken and her face reddens, I'm filled with a curious sense of certainty. I feel removed. This isn't a catastrophic weather event. This isn't a hurricane. I don't need to batten down the hatches. This is a girl with a temper. All I need to do, is step out of her way.

I open the door and walk out.

* * * * *

Even though breaking up with Ash was a relief, I'm not feeling much better. It's nearly the end of exams. Lots of people have already left. It feels as though every day I just say, "Good bye," over and over. I'm really surprised by how much I'm struggling with it. I thought I was so ready for college to end. I thought I couldn't wait for the next part of my life to start.

Ash isn't making it easier, obviously. She's making it as hard as she can. I had radio silence for her from a while, but now that there are only a few days left before we both leave, she's pulling out all the stops. She's being sweet. She's being the sweetest she's ever been. She's calling me, trying to meet up. She's even admitted that she was wrong.

I'm out tonight. Mark wrote his last exam today and so tonight is our last night before he leaves. Ash is messaging me and I'm a little drunk and I'm feeling a general sense of confusion and panic. I fear the prospect of seeing her. I honestly do. I have an impending sense of doom. I fear that I'll slip, if I do. So, I do what I always do, I call Andy.

"Andy, where are you?"

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No, not really. I need to talk to you. Where are you?"

"Uh, West, I'm at Dorothy's." Dorothy's is a gay bar. It's Tyler's last night too, they're celebrating together, "Can we talk tomorrow?"

"I don't care where you are. I just need to see you."

"Okay, sure. Come over. Call when you get here."

I head over to Dorothy's and stand outside for a while before I call Andy. I've walked past here many times. I've thought about going inside. I've thought about it a lot, but I haven't gone in. I still don't go in. I text Andy to let him know I'm here. He comes out and finds me sitting on the curb.

"What's up?" He says, sitting beside me.

"I'm feeling messed up. I'm confused and messed up."

"West," he says kindly, "you'll get back together with Ash. You guys always do."

"That's not the point." I say it louder than I mean to.

He looks a little surprised, "What is the point, then?"

"The point is, I'm at this big fork in the road. There are two paths. Two different roads and I'm messed up and I don't know what to do. These roads decide my whole future. My life."

"West, you're just freaking out because you've never been the one to break up with Ash before. Don't worry, she'll take you back. You'll see."