Birding with Benefits

Chapter 38

“So, how were your Lonely Days?”

Chris gathered up the crumpled paper remains of their burrito wrappers and tossed them one by one into the nearby garbage can basketball-style, murmuring, “Two points!” with every successful basket, then turned to John for his answer.

When John went radio silent after Breena kissed the stupid genius, Chris had instituted the Lonely Days rule. When working through something, John was allowed three days all alone, after which he was expected to check in with his friend.

Which was what had brought him to campus with burritos from their favorite shop.

This set of Lonely Days had been spent either in his workshop or outside, feet pounding familiar trails as sweat soaked his back. He’d slept in his shop for two nights after tossing and turning in his bed and then on the couch. Celeste’s imprint was on every surface, her greedy sighs trapped in his sheets.

Chris’s It’s time text had actually come as a relief.

They’d eaten in silence, watching university students passing on the crisscross of sidewalks that weaved between redbrick buildings.

But Chris watched him now, eyebrows up in expectation. “You want to tell me what happened?”

John sipped his iced tea, shaking the ice around in the cup.

Sighing, Chris pulled his phone from the back pocket of his tattered black jeans. “Let’s see what we can do with two minutes, okay?” He smiled as he held up his phone, displaying the timer on the screen. If John was being specifically cagey about a subject that would probably feel good to talk about, Chris set a timer and encouraged his friend to force some words out of his mouth until the alarm went off.

A swallowtail butterfly landed on a wildflower across the sidewalk, so John decided to start there. Soon he was telling Chris about the butterfly house, the art show, and Celeste’s consequent fight with Morgan. When he got to talking about the time at her house and his confession to her about his feelings, he was soft on details, but Chris followed along, nodding as he listened.

John watched the last few seconds tick by on the phone. “And I’ve just been working ever since.”

“Okay.” Chris silenced the timer and then turned to John, his eyes warm. “Saying what you wanted like that—hell, even really knowing what you wanted… I’m proud of you, John.”

John was proud of himself too, despite having spent plenty of moments regretting it all and wishing he’d taken anything Celeste wanted to give. But those regrets hadn’t lasted. He cared too much for Celeste to hide his true feelings, and too much for himself to fall into old habits.

“I thought she might be open to it,” he admitted, the confession stinging. “She’s always so excited about discovery, and I hoped maybe…”

Celeste had shown up at a park to be a fake girlfriend to a total stranger, gone headfirst into a contest she knew nothing about and actually almost won it with him, jumped into mountain pools, and formed friendships with frogs. She opened herself to the whole world—but not to him.

Chris stretched an arm along the back of the bench, flicking John with his thumb and forefinger. “I can hear your thoughts, John. Don’t get broody thinking you’re not enough for her. This is a Celeste thing, not a you thing.”

“But what if it is a me thing, just a little? What if I’m not built to be the kind of person someone wants?”

Chris’s arms flew into the air, sending a white-winged dove fleeing from the branches over them. “Well, Jesus, fuck them, then!” He groaned and took a breath. “Truth is, you’ve had serious relationship experience with one person and that ended badly. Honestly, there’s a lot about Breena that I liked once upon a time, and I’m open to liking her again. But current therapy or not, she wasn’t it, man. She saw your potential but never celebrated you.” He leveled his blue eyes at John. “Thinking you wouldn’t be what someone wants? That was Breena’s shit, not yours, so let it go.”

Chris leaned forward. “And another thing.” John knew there was no stopping him once he got going, and Chris’s analysis was a welcome distraction from his own thoughts, which had only grown muddier over his days alone. “You may be aware of this fact, Johnny boy, but you can be a hard person to get to know. I managed out of sheer determination, and it was well worth it. And when I watched you and Celeste together, I could tell—she knows you. And whatever’s going on in there for you”—he thumped John’s chest, hard—“it’s happening to her, too. Whatever reason she has for not wanting to go there is all about her.”

She’d said as much that night, and John had played back their short conversation over and over, wondering whether if he’d picked different words, they could have found a different outcome. But she’d been resolute. Scared, but resolute. The only thing he could do was give her the space she’d told him she needed all along.

“I didn’t think you were really built for casual sex,” Chris said after a moment. “But I was excited you were trying something new and I was just happy you were getting laid. And Celeste is so damn cool. I’m sorry if I should have raised some flags along the way.”

“I saw the flags,” John assured him. “I just ignored them.” And despite the hurt he was feeling now, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. “I’m just not sure what to do now, if anything.”

Chris pulled up his feet to sit cross-legged on the bench, resting his palms on his knees. “You know how I’ve been hating my job lately? Well, I listened to a few podcasts that… someone told me about.”

“You can say her name.” Celeste had told him about the Help Chris Love His Work Again playlist she’d curated after listening to his job complaints on their birding outing together.

“All right.” Chris sighed. “Celeste gave me some things to listen to, self-help shit and all of that. It turns out, that stuff actually helps. And I realized I’ve been thinking about things wrong. I’ve been waiting for me to fit into this job instead of making this job fit me, making it about who I am and what I can do. There’s a balance between what’s expected of me here and what I want. It’s going to take some time to figure out what that looks like, but I’m up for the challenge.”

Chris shifted, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his chest. “I want that for you. Not here, obviously.” He motioned to the campus around them. “This place wasn’t right for you. You move at a different pace, buddy. And I know sometimes people, even me, push you to move faster. But there’s a speed between running and sitting still, even for you.”

A group of students walked past, giggling as they leaned together over something playing on a phone.

“And I want you to know you have everything it takes to get what you want, whether it’s from work or life or a relationship. Maybe that will be with Celeste or maybe it won’t, but you can find something different than what you had with Breena, if you want it. Something that fits you. You deserve to believe that.”

John’s gaze drifted into the mesquite fanned above them, where a verdin buried its face in the cluster of newly bloomed yellow flowers. For as long as he could remember, he had looked into trees and seen possibility—the birds and critters that could be there, the leaves that would unfurl each spring, even the shade the tree would offer as the sun moved across the sky.

Somewhere along the way, he’d lost that sense of possibility for himself. Instead, he’d focused on what he didn’t have—multiple degrees, published articles, the swagger and gusto of professional guides and scientists. He’d heard encouragement as judgment and let his small dreams fade before they even began.

But with Celeste at his side these past few weeks, he’d reacquainted himself with the thrill of discovery. And regardless of what she might want or need now, he’d learned something from being along for part of her journey. Sometimes you just had to Say yes, even if it was only to yourself.

“Tell you what.” He rubbed at his beard and watched Chris raise his eyebrows. “How about we both try to make some changes?”

Chris lowered his legs and sat up tall. “I’m listening.”

“Good.” John nodded, a familiar, beloved buzz moving up his spine. “Because I think I’m going to need your help.” He slipped his phone from his pocket. “How the hell do I use Instagram?”