Surviving Valencia

“Can you help me with this?” a new girl called to me, standing by her cash register, so I went over to help her.

A few moments later, Adrian came up behind me and pulled me aside, literally, touching my arm and pulling me gently toward him. “Hey,” he said. I melted, heart-stoppingly aware of his entire aura, tingly from being within its parameters.

“Hi. What’s up?” I asked.

He pulled us a little farther away from the new girl. She was in her own world anyway, counting the pennies for the second time.

“My wife is coming with us, I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, sure. That’s great,” I said.

“Okay.” He shifted from foot to foot. “I just wanted to, you know, mention it.”

“We’re just driving together, right?” I said, raising my eyebrow at him like he was crazy.

“Right. Sorry.” Then he blushed and nodded, taking off to finish whatever it was he had left to do.

Four or five of us left at the same time that night, and everyone except for the new girl was headed to Krystle’s. Adrian’s wife was in the parking lot waiting for us. She stood beside her car, a green, rusty 1970’s car. She was cool enough to make it seem like the most desirable car in the world. I would have looked like a fool behind the wheel of a car like that. Anyone would have. She was smoking a cigarette and playing with her long red hair. When she saw Adrian she waved and came walking over. She wore funky, cat-eye glasses. She was taller than me, and super thin. Without hesitating, she kissed him on the mouth.

“Everyone, this is Belinda, my wife,” he said.

“Hi Belinda,” we said.

“Do you want to drive, Honey?” she asked Adrian.

“Sure,” he said, taking her keys. They were on a simple, steel ring with a small, artsy metal ornament hanging from it. Of course I noticed everything. I think it is a female problem, to notice and evaluate and compare.

Without a word I got in my car and followed along. There was no way I was riding along with them. I had become invisible to Adrian and he seemed to have forgotten our earlier plan.

I felt like a stalker, a loser, driving behind them. I watched the burnt out taillight, the Strong Women like Strong Beer bumper sticker, the backs of their heads. You’re a creep, I told myself, feeling dirty as I trailed after them, wishing them ill. I could not get Belinda’s face out of my mind. She was to me, at this time, the answer key to the book of code of Adrian. An explanation of what his soul must desire. I wanted to have what she had. I wanted to be skinnier, cooler, smarter. I barely knew him, but I felt as strongly as I had ever felt about anything that I wanted him to be mine. And I wanted to be his.

My desperation and insecurity began to slip away as I drove behind them. The night air gave me confidence. I suppose that’s normal. It’s why motorcycle gangs beat people up. Still, it made me feel special. A mean, delicious feeling of purpose and determination found me that night in the car, batting at my self-doubt. For a brief moment it swept my nervousness right out the open window. I felt ethereal, wise, a little smug. I became more than myself. Stronger. My desires were pushing ahead of everyone else’s feelings. I became powerful and free, sociopathic, invincible.

They parked at the top of the hill in front of Krystle’s little cottage, and I parked farther down so I could touch up my makeup without being noticed. Without the cool night wind in my face, I was becoming myself again. Fading. Shrinking. I put on extra makeup, trying to combat the ordinariness.

The front yard was packed with our co-workers and Adrian and Belinda had already joined the party by the time I walked up the steep, quaint path to the little bungalow. They were standing side by side and they both had beers in their hands, but when Adrian saw me he casually dropped his arm from around his wife’s waist. I got a beer and started talking to some girls who worked mainly on weekends. We were chatting and laughing, as they filled me in on all the Border’s drama I was usually oblivious to, and I forgot to notice Adrian for a little while. When I went to get another beer I saw Belinda leaving, alone.

I scanned the party, looking for him, and just like that he was behind me.

“Are you looking for someone?” he asked.

“I found him,” I said and blushed, realizing how forward that sounded.

“Do you need another drink?” he asked.

“Not quite yet. Have you been left unattended?”

“I have.”

“Everything okay?” I immediately wished I hadn’t asked. Why ruin this by talking about her?

“She has a headache.”

“Oh.” We each took sips of our beer.

“Do you want to sit down?” he asked me. There was one of those old-fashioned glider lawn benches in Krystle’s back yard. It was a little bit removed from where everyone was standing.

“Sure.”