“Okay, he's smart. But he's boring, mean, upper-middle class, and only mildly attractive,” Luke says.
“I think you had a point.”
“You deserve someone who supports you. Someone who cares about what you want. Someone who actually wants you to be happy.”
“Note taken,” I say. He looks at me funny, so I explain. “I get your point. You think I should leave Ryan. I don't need to hear it again.”
“Am I that much of a broken record?”
“A little,” I say.
“And to think I came here to charm you.” He runs his hand through his hair, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Are you as sick of talking about Ryan as I am?” he asks.
I nod.
“Good,” he says, and motions to the marquee of a movie theater next door. “There's a show starting in five minutes.”
“I've already seen that one.”
“Me too.”
Oh.
Chapter 14
The glass doors of the theater do little to shut out the sun. With every step we take towards the door of our theater, the light grows more fluorescent.
Luke pulls an usher aside, whispers a few words in his ear and nods to me. He slips the usher a flattened bill. Is that a 20 or a 100? I suppose the poor usher only makes $10/hr. Why not take a bribe?
I reach for Luke's hand reflexively, squeezing it tight. I need to calm down. It's three in the afternoon. No one is here. No one can see me.
He kisses my cheek. I release his hand and nod to the bathroom. The bathroom is perfect. Quiet. Bright. Fluorescent.
It is an ordinary bathroom. I catch my reflection in the mirror above the sinks. I used to stare at myself for hours, looking for fat to pinch, for excuses to proclaim myself disgusting. Today, I only glimpse. Something is different about me. Not my platinum hair or my shaky eyeliner or my size 8 dress, cut to show off the lace of my bra. No, something inside me. Is it confidence or recklessness?
No, there is no explaining away my behavior. I am cheating. There is no excuse, no matter how much I want Luke, no matter how much Ryan frustrates me.
So stop. Go home. Tell Luke you're done fucking around.
Ryan doesn't have to know. He doesn't have to get hurt. He may not be the sweetest or most interesting guy in the world, but he doesn't deserve to hurt as much as knowing will hurt him.
Or maybe he doesn't deserve you cheating on him.
But I need more time with Luke. I need to be near him, to smell him, to touch him, to feel him. I need to scream his name again. I need to savor the feel of it on my tongue.
Then break up with Ryan. You can't string him along like this. He's put up with so much crap from you. He's protected you for so long. He might understand if you made a mistake, if it was only a night. He knows you're no good with self-control. He might forgive you if you stop now.
I splash water on my flushed face. My makeup is waterproof. It should be okay. And if it's not, the theater is dark, and
I doubt some running mascara will sway Luke.
You're such a wimp, Alyssa. Don't pretend you aren't breaking up with Ryan because you love him or because you don't want to hurt him. As if. You're afraid, aren't you? You're afraid of what you'll do without his protection. After all, one little fight and you're fucking some new guy. You really think Luke is going to step in if Ryan dumps your sorry ass? You really think Luke will be able to protect you?
But what if I don't need protection? Is it really possible that I can take care of myself? Is it really possible that I could survive without Ryan?
I splash my face with water again. I don't have to figure this out now. I can have another afternoon with Luke. Or another week. I can figure it out soon, before Ryan finds out, before Ryan gets hurt.
Couldn't you figure it out with your clothes on?