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I was panting, and my stomach was in knots thinking about the question I was about to ask him, one I really didn’t want to know the answer to. I blurted out, “I want to know what you do when you go to Boston every weekend.”
He blinked a few times and broke eye contact, looking down at the floor, then back up at me. He was caught off guard and looked troubled, staying silent for several seconds before he responded. “It’s complicated, Nina.”
When the words came out of his mouth, it felt like my heart fell through my stomach. He wasn’t going to give me any straight answers tonight, but those three words were enough to confirm that there was likely someone else.
There was a massive gray area to this black and white situation after all.
I wanted to come right out and ask what he meant, whether he had a serious girlfriend, or whether it was something entirely different, but I lost the courage and again, truthfully, a part of me really didn’t even want to know. At this point, what I did know was that I had been playing with fire and that I needed to take his advice and leave.
“Good night, Jake.”
He just stood there without saying a word and let me walk away.
***
The next morning, my eyes were bloodshot, and I had that foreboding feeling that I remember getting when I was a young teenager and a boy would break my heart. You know, the one where you wake up and forget about it for one split second, and then when you realize it wasn’t a dream, complete dread sets in.
I looked at the time: 9:45. I had overslept and had already missed my first class.
Of course, Jake had left for work and would be gone for the weekend again. This time, though, I was relieved to not see him for a few days.
Tarah was in the kitchen making coffee, and the percolating sound was magnified due to my hangover.
“Sup, girly,” she said when I walked out into the living area.
“Hey,” I said hoarsely. My head was killing me, and I felt nauseous.
“You look like death, sweetie. Is everything okay?”
I wasn’t sure if I should confide in her about what happened with Jake. I didn’t even know how to sum up last night properly.
We had a scorpion bowl, he told me I had a big ass, the fortune cookie talked, then he got an erection and kicked me out of his room.
“Everything is okay. It was just a late night.”
“You were with Jake. I know. He told me.”
“He told you what?” I snapped.
“Take it easy…just that you guys went out late last night. Before he left for work, he told me to keep an eye on you today, that you might be hurting because you drank too much or something.”
Or something.
He knew I’d be hurting, because he was the one that hurt me.
“Yeah…we went to that Kung Pao Karaoke place.”
“So, was it like a date?”
“No. Nothing like a date.”
“Nina, are you okay? Because you don’t look okay.”
Damn it. My eyes were starting to water.
“I am not, T. I am not okay at all.”
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on? What did he do?”
“It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do. It’s what he wouldn’t say. It’s what won’t be happening between us. Let’s just say, I needed to know whether we would be more than friends, and I basically got my answer last night.”
“I am sorry, sweetie.”
“Don’t say anything to Ryan, okay?”
Tarah pulled me in for a hug. “I’ve seen the way Jake looks at you when you don’t even realize it. I don’t know what he did or said or didn’t say last night, but that dude does have feelings for you.”
“I guess it’s just…complicated,” I said rolling my eyes.
***
As I was leaving English class that afternoon, I made an impulsive decision to take the building elevator instead of the stairs. I no longer had the same fear of them that existed before meeting Jake and before our elevator picnic, but I found that I still avoided them everyday.
Maybe I just needed to prove to myself that I didn’t need him anymore.
Thankfully, the elevator was empty. I was extremely jittery but felt in control when I pushed the button and closed the doors.
I shut my eyes and worked through the anxiety and building panic, counting to myself as the elevator descended down six floors.
When the doors opened, I felt immense relief because I knew now that I could do it on my own. It was only six floors, but this meant everything to me. I became extremely emotional as I made my way out to the sidewalk.
On the way home, my thoughts turned to Jake and that day in the elevator when he played the song that moved me deeply, Stuck in the Elevator. I had downloaded it to my iPod and scrolled down to play it while resting on a park bench.
The song brought me right back to that moment with him where I had been so filled with hope and excitement about the way he made me feel. It was painful to accept that I would have to stop those kinds of feelings in their tracks moving forward. They weren’t going to go away. I just needed a way to bottle them up because that was the only way I could survive living with him.
A teardrop fell down my cheek as the song continued to play. My phone then vibrated on my leg, and I looked down to see that it was a text from Jake.
Please tell me I didn’t lose you as a friend last night.
My emotions went into overload with the song still playing as the text came in. I had no idea how to respond, but regardless of the exact wording, the answer would have been the same.
Nina: Of course not.
Jake: I know I was acting all sorts of f**ked up. I am sorry.
Nina: It’s okay. We were both probably still drunk, right?
There was a long pause, and I didn’t think he was going to write back, but then my phone vibrated again.
Jake: I care about you. I am sorry if I hurt you.
Nina: You didn’t.
Liar.
Jake: I’ll see you Monday.
Nina: See you then.
Jake: We’re still friends?
Nina: Yes. Still friends.
Jake: Just checking.
And with that, still feeling hurt beyond belief, I resigned myself to the fact that friends were all we would ever be.
CHAPTER 13
For the remaining days before the end of the semester, both Jake and I did a good job of pretending that night in his room never happened.
He seemed to really be trying hard to act like a “friend” lately, careful not to cross any lines. Despite that, our non-physical connection seemed to be growing. He was hanging out more in the living room with Tarah, Ryan and me at night. He and I would sometimes linger, staying up late, eating ice cream or a dessert I made while we talked in the kitchen.
Our conversation topics became more personal, too. He opened up more about his childhood. I learned that he actually grew up in Chicago, not Boston and that his mother had been a drug addict as a teenager but straightened up when she met his father. Even more surprising: the fact that the sister he is close to, only came into his life eight years ago because she had been given up for adoption when Jake’s mother was fifteen. He told me a story that blew me away about how he first met her accidentally during a bizarre chance encounter in a cemetery.
It was adorable how his eyes would light up when he talked about his twin nieces. He used to babysit them when they were infants and shared a lot of funny memories about those days; it thoroughly amused me to picture this tough-looking guy changing diapers and getting spit up on.
We had a lot of laughs and sometimes, I would catch his eyes lingering on mine or traveling down to my mouth. These were subtle hints that a part of him wanted more, even though something was obviously holding him back.
Every night, he would go back to his room, and I would go to mine, replaying everything we had talked about. Despite my vow to bottle up my feelings for him, they were still growing stronger than a batch of sea monkeys trapped in a jar.
***
The last Wednesday of the semester rolled around, and when I turned my final exam into Professor Hernandez, I knew that this one wasn’t going to be an A. In fact, I hadn’t even completed the last two problems. Maybe it was because Jake and I had done more talking lately than studying or because secretly, I wanted this last punishment from him.
That night, when Jake arrived home from work, I stood in his doorway with my laptop.
He was taking off his jacket and looked amazing in a black button down shirt that was open slightly at the top. He smelled of cologne mixed with cold air, and it annoyed me that my body would consistently react to him in a way that was not befitting a platonic friend.
He hung up his jacket and looked over at me. “What’s up?”
“I got my grade.”
A slow and devious smile spread over his face because he could tell from my expression that it wasn’t good. He held out his hand. “Let’s see it.”
I turned the laptop toward him, and he gasped. “Sixty-nine!”
Of all numbers, I know.
“Nina Kennedy…that is perversely horrible,” he said trying to stifle his laughter.
“I know it is! But it still brings me to a B average for the semester.” I feigned a smile.
He didn’t look too pleased with my answer. “In all seriousness, why did you bomb so badly?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just got lazy. I knew with the other grades, I’d get at least a C+ average no matter what, and I haven’t been sleeping well the past few days.”
“That’s no excuse. You could have had a B average too if you had done better on this one,” he said in a serious tone.
I sighed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you.”
His frown turned into a slight smile, and he seemed to perk up real fast, smacking his hands together. “That being said, I’m f**king stoked it wasn’t an A.” He was now beaming.
“I know you have been waiting for this.”
Jake scratched his head, spun around searching for his laptop, then lay on the bed, kicking his feet up. “You don’t have classes tomorrow, right?” he asked as he typed.
“Nope…done until after Christmas.”
His smile grew bigger as he clicked away. When I walked over to the laptop, he shut it and waved me away. “Get outta here. You can’t see this.”
I stood across from him nervously tapping my foot, watching him type and wondering what he was up to. “What are you doing, Jake?”
“I’m planning our day tomorrow.”
“Can’t you just give me one little hint?”
“All I will say is that you need to be ready very early in the morning, like five-am. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He continued typing. “Good. I have to take tomorrow off from work for this.”
“You’re taking time off from work to spend the entire day scaring the shit out of me?”
“You’re welcome.”
“Seriously? This is a day trip?”
“I have the time.”
“Can you please just tell me what we are doing? Come on, I am starting to freak out.”
“What else is new? No way. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I made sure to shower that night because I wouldn’t have the chance to do it in the morning. Under the water, my heart was palpitating, filled with anxiety over tomorrow. It had been too long since I had faced my fears on Jake’s terms and tested my nerves. Not to mention, I had an ominous feeling about this one.
When I got back to my room, low and behold, there was an origami bat greeting me on the nightstand. He would always wait for me to take a shower, so he could sneak one into my room.
When I opened it and saw what it said, my heart nearly skipped a beat:
For our last stint,
I will give you a hint.
It’s a windy city…
Where Jake was itty bitty.
He was taking me home to Chicago.
***
Maybe by some miracle there would be a terror threat or a medical emergency, and this spaceship would stay on the ground. Actually, I was probably going to become the medical emergency. That was my last hope because the passengers had boarded, and the doors to the Boeing 737 were now closed, trapping us all inside.
Officially out of control of my life. Why did I let him do this to me?
Because I would do anything he asked me to.
“Hold my hand, Nina. Squeeze it as tight as you need to. Breathe,” he said.
The smell of the engines turning on reminded me of burning cheese.
With the way I was breathing in and out and the way Jake was squeezing my hand, row nine, seats E and F, looked more like a labor and delivery area.
Even the flight attendants were seated now in those strange side seats, belted and useless. Their fate was in the same hands, those of a man who might have just had a couple of whiskeys in the airport lounge.
Forget the elevator, this was the single most terrifying moment of my life. Flying was at the very top of the list of things that scared me. As queen of the “what ifs,” I created too many possible scenarios of what could go wrong and couldn’t even wrap my head around them all.
As the jet taxied toward the runway, my breathing had gotten completely out of control, and my entire body shook involuntarily. How was this thing going to possibly lift off the ground and stay up in the air? I knew nothing about the mechanics of the situation, and even if properly explained, it likely would still not seem logical.
Rosary beads in hand, the old lady across the aisle made the sign of the cross. She certainly wasn’t helping my situation in the least bit.
Jake could see he was losing me fast. I was starting to hyperventilate. He reached into his trusty black backpack of doom and took out a brown paper bag. “Breathe into this.”