Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AEROSMITH, “GOINGDOWN/LOVEINANELEVATOR”
Gabby
“Everything okay?” Matt asked over dinner at his favorite Chinese restaurant.
It was a cheer-Gabby-up dinner, and I wondered if my mom put him up to it.
Our food was about gone, and I hadn’t said more than a few sentences, mostly about the recent snow. However, it wasn’t just me. Matt seemed off too.
“I’m fine,” I said. “You?”
He poked around at the rest of his rice and beef. “Yeah.” In the next breath, he said, “No.” With a deep sigh he set his fork on his plate and sat back in his chair. “Julianne finally called me. I hadn’t seen her since she stormed out of the party. She wanted to have dinner. So we did. And after dinner, she invited me up to her apartment to talk, but talking turned into more. But I stopped it immediately.” He eyed me, studying my reaction.
I didn’t have one.
“I told her I kissed you. She asked if it was just physical or if I had feelings for you. And I didn’t know what to say.” He drummed his fingers on the table.
I sipped my water. Was he waiting for me to say something? There wasn’t a question in anything he said.
Still, where were my emotions? How could I be with the man of my dreams, talking about him kissing me, and not feel complete euphoria?
“It’s okay if you have thoughts or feelings about this,” he laughed a little.
“Um …” I cleared my throat.
“After what happened with Sarah,” he shook his head, “I don’t know how to be anything but honest in a relationship. I don’t want to lie to you or to Julianne.”
“I kissed Ben.” I twisted my lips for a second. “Actually, he kissed me. But I kissed him back. I don’t know what it meant.”
Matt paused his drumming fingers. “I’m not surprised.”
“What?” I couldn’t hide my shock.
“He clearly has a thing for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
Matt shrugged. “It’s how he looks at you with a permanent smile. I can’t explain it, but it’s obvious.”
“Is that how you look at Julianne?”
Matt’s gaze wandered around the restaurant before returning to me with a tiny nod. “I suppose.”
“So you really like Julianne and Ben likes me. But she’s moving, and I’m …”
I’m in love with you?
I no longer knew how I felt about Matt. When Ben kissed me, up was down, in felt like out, and right versus wrong no longer made sense.
He grunted a laugh. “Ben and I sound lovesick and pathetic.”
Ben was dealing with something much bigger than having a crush on a girl.
“Maybe we can scratch each other’s itch. The loneliness itch.”
Scratching itches didn’t sound like a reliable road to matrimony. I didn’t want to be anyone’s back scratcher or calamine lotion. Where was the romance in that? I preferred the drunk version of Matt, the one who said I was prettier than my sisters and noticed the color of my eyes and the moles on my face. Was it time to abandon my dreams? Did I come this far to give up on Matt? Or did I need to adjust my idea of falling in love? Perhaps Matt wasn’t the kind to fall. Maybe he moseyed into it without a big splash. Then one day, without realizing the exact moment it happened, he’d think, “Wow! I love Gabriella. She’s been everything I’ve ever needed and wanted. How could I be so blind? How did I mistake true love for a bottle of pink lotion?”
“Gabby?”
I glanced up from my plate.
Matt smiled. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“It’s nothing.” I slid my plate aside. “I’m done. Are you?”
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
After he paid for dinner, I popped three mint Tic Tacs into my mouth on the way to his car.
“Do you want to come to my place or should I take you back to your dorm?”
A flood of nerves ravaged me, so I slid my hands under my legs so he wouldn’t see them shaking.
We were a long way from marriage. How was I supposed to get there without having sex with him? Tell him I was waiting for marriage? He already thought I was no longer a virgin.
I messed up and dug a hole too deep, and there was no good way out of it.
I needed to come clean or sacrifice my morals. But were they morals or just guilt? Did I genuinely not want to have sex until my wedding night, or was I afraid of the guilt from God? Maybe if my heart was pure, if I only had sex with the person who I intended to marry, God would show me mercy.
“Your place,” I whispered.
* * *
When my sisters and I were younger, Mom and Dad promised to take us to Disneyland. The buildup to our trip was the most exciting and unforgettable time in my life. But then our car broke down, and not only could our parents not afford to pay for us to fly to California, they couldn’t afford the park tickets after paying for the car to get fixed. So we went to Six Flags, and Mom bought us Mickey Mouse T-shirts to wear. We had to lower our expectations, but we still had a good time.
I wasn’t going to have sex with Matt for the first time on our wedding night. Instead, I’d lose my virginity on a random Saturday night after Chinese food.
“Brett, this is Gabby,” Matt introduced me to one of his roommates, while taking my hand to lead me up the stairs.
“Hey,” Brett said without taking his eyes off the television.
“Do you think this is a good idea with one of your roommates here?” I whispered as we reached the top of the stairs.
Matt chuckled. “He doesn’t care. Trust me, he doesn’t think I’m bringing you up here to study.”
Matt was steady and cool while my bones rattled, and my hands felt clammy. He closed the bedroom door behind us, and I turned in a slow circle. There were baseball posters on the walls, a cluttered desk in the corner, a dresser covered with trophies and dust, and a bed with messy sheets.
He drew the window shades, then turned toward me, toeing off his tennis shoes. “I love it when you blush.”
I pressed a shaky hand to my cheek. Calling it a blush was like calling a volcano a bonfire.
“I know you might have imagined this, but I never did.” He slid his hand into my hair and ducked his head to kiss my neck. “Such an unexpected surprise,” he whispered between kisses.
My breaths quickened.
His hands and mouth felt good, but the guilt felt bad.
I closed my eyes and tried to think only about the good, but every time his hands moved to a part of my body that no man had ever touched, shame overshadowed everything.
He kissed my mouth and guided my hand to his jeans, rubbing it along his erection. I kept my fingers straight and stiff. Did he want me to massage it?
Why was it so difficult? Was I overthinking it like the time I asked Ben to show me how to kiss? My mind skipped to the second time Ben kissed me. I didn’t overthink that. In fact, I didn’t think at all. I just kissed him.
I felt desired and safe, and that made me feel like a real woman.
Kissing Matt deeper, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He grabbed my butt, squeezing it like he was teetering on the edge of control. Nerves of anticipation mixed with the euphoria of physical desire were a heady combination.
He dragged his lips from my mouth to my neck again while sliding his hand up my shirt.
“Gabby,” he mumbled.
“Ben,” I said in a breathy voice.
He froze.
I opened my eyes. Why was he stopping?
With a soft chuckle, he stepped backward and rested one hand on his hip while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What’s wrong?” I curled my hair behind my ears.
Again, he released a little laugh while shaking his head. “You said Ben.”
“What? When?”
He dropped his hand and looked at me. “I said your name, and you replied with Ben’s name.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He nodded slowly. “You did. And that’s okay. I’m not upset. It’s just sex. You haven’t hurt my delicate feelings or anything like that. But given our family history, I feel a little more responsible for you than if you were just some other girl. And if you’re with me but saying some other guy’s name, I think there’s a high probability that you’ll regret this. We’re friends. I don’t want to be that asshole friend.”
I was usually a good listener. Even when I wrote poems about Matt in the margins of my Bible, I still listened to my dad’s sermons at the same time. But after Matt told me I said Ben’s name, I didn’t register another word he said.
It made no sense. If anything, when Ben kissed me, I should have said Matt’s name because he was my dream.
“I’m …” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean?—”
“Gabby,” Matt pulled me into his arms while mine remained limp at my sides, “don’t apologize. I’m not mad.”
Well, I was mad. Mad at myself for letting Ben kiss me and get into my head. Mad at Ben for not writing me back since he went home. Mad at Matt for being too nice.
Yes. I was mad at him for being too nice .
I laughed out loud at that thought. Then I laughed some more.
Matt released me, squinting. “What’s so funny?”
I covered my mouth to muffle my amusement. An unexpected hysteria robbed my composure. Matt returned a hesitant grin, like he wanted to laugh with me, but he didn’t know what was so funny.
“I’m here for you ,” I said between giggles. “I could have gotten a psychology degree anywhere, like in Missouri. But no. I had to chase you. So I took out a big loan to come here for you. ” I weaved my fingers through my hair and turned my back to him. “I thought Sarah was so stupid for not choosing you, yet I was relieved, because my crush on you was larger than life. Do you have any idea how many poems I’ve written about you? I dreamed of this moment for so long. Of course, it was our wedding night, but still, you have been my dream forever.”
With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned to face him again. He bled remorse and sympathy. I hated the pain on his face. As if his girlfriend leaving him wasn’t enough, I just dumped my emotional baggage onto him. I gave him the exact measurements of the gigantic pedestal on which I’d placed him atop.
It wasn’t his fault that I felt humiliated, foolish, and lost. Love was the most vulnerable emotion. It exposed the heart.
It stole breaths.
Made sane people crazy.
And in its unrequited form, love was so humbling.
“Gabby—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “Please don’t say anything.” I tipped my head back, gazing at the ceiling while taking a long breath. “And please don’t tell anyone.”
When I looked at him again, he returned a sad smile. “Ben’s a lucky guy.”
I laughed. “He’s deaf. I don’t think he would agree with you.”
“Ben’s a lucky guy,” Matt repeated, matter-of-factly.
I bowed my head and stared at my fingers, picking at my nails. “I just really thought it would be you.”
Matt sat on the end of his bed. “Come here.” He held out his hand.
After a few seconds of hesitation, I stepped toward him, giving him my hand.
He pulled me to stand between his spread legs. “I’m still trying to figure out my life. But I can tell you from my experience of loving and losing people that timing is everything. When I told Julianne about Sarah, she said it was timing. But not like it wasn’t our time. It was our time, but our time ended. As someone who was raised to believe that we’re meant to find ‘the one,’ marry them, and spend eternity with them, that was hard for me to understand. But if Sarah hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have met Julianne. And if Julianne weren’t moving to California, I wouldn’t have made a complete ass of myself in the bathroom with you.”
I laughed, and in the next blink, tears escaped.
He wiped them from my cheeks. “And had I not done that, we might not be here now. And maybe our time is short, or maybe our time is yet to come. But no one has ever made me feel as special as you just did. I wish I could say I think I deserve it.” He tucked his chin, resting his hands on my hips. “But I don’t. Not now.”
Maybe our time is yet to come .
His words swirled in my mind, kicking up possibilities like dust that would settle in time.
I wiped my eyes as he lifted his gaze to mine. “I picked the right guy to have a crush on.”
He grinned. “I’m honored.”
“Had this gone further, do you think you might have called me Julianne?”
Matt laughed. “Perhaps. Does that make you feel better?”
I nodded. “Are you lying?”
He rolled his lips between his teeth to hide his grin.
I stepped back, shaking my head. “Of course you wouldn’t say the wrong name. Duh. Of course, I’m the only stupid one.”
“Come on,” he stood. “I’ll drive you home, Jules. ” He shoved his feet into his tennis shoes.
I smirked.
“Oops. I mean Jenny. Wait. No. What’s your name again?”
I shoved him playfully as he passed me to open the bedroom door.
Had someone told me that before the end of my first semester of college, I would almost have sex with Matt Cory, kiss my best friend, and watch him get in a car to go home because he lost his hearing to meningitis, I would have laughed at an idea so preposterous.
As Matt drove me home, I mourned the loss of dreams and reluctantly welcomed the beginning of what my sisters promised would happen at some point: questioning my faith in God.