Chapter Wednesday, November 23rd #9
The deepest exhale leaves my chest. “I’m not really sure, baby.
” I can admit that much. “It was a lot to take in, and I haven’t really had a chance to process it.
But right now, in this moment, I’m alright.
I promise.” I hold her gaze, determined to ease her worry.
She studies me a moment longer and it makes my lips tug into a smile.
“I love you,” I say. “And I love how concerned you are. Now, go and spend time with our friends.”
She narrows her eyes, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth while she taps her foot on the wooden floorboards.
She knows not to press this issue right now, knows that any further prodding will result in me shutting down. It’s a bad habit of mine, one I’m still working on, but it’s a slow and rather aggravating process.
“Okay,” she breathes. I can tell she isn’t satisfied with the end of this conversation, but she allows me to kiss her before she rejoins our friends.
I feel Cat’s eyes on me throughout the evening, boring into me from across the crowded restaurant like she’s aiming a laser at me.
I know she’s worried. We’ve been through so much together, and I know how much I put her through during our year and a half together.
But there’s still so much I don’t understand about myself, so much I don’t know.
I know it’s there—the darkness, the shadows.
I can feel it simmering behind some steel trapdoor hidden in my subconscious, hot to the touch and locked tight.
I don’t know what’s behind it, and I’m scared to find out. But it’s there. Always.
***
“Hey, sit down and take a load off. I’m gonna cover you for fifteen minutes,” Shane says later in the evening. Murphy’s has only gotten busier, and I haven’t had a chance to so much as take a piss.
“You don’t have to do that, man. You’re off the clock,” I say, chuckling.
“I know, but since I’m here I might as well give you a break.
I know you don’t usually get to take them when you’re running shit at night,” he says, then veers off toward two of our newer waiters who are currently more interested in each other than the tables they’re supposed to be managing.
The second they see Shane approach with what I can only imagine is his best boss face, they scatter.
“So, how about a nice, killer workout tomorrow morning?” Zack pipes up the moment I’m within earshot of the table. I slide into a chair next to Cat, who smiles at me before resting her left hand on my right leg underneath the table. “Just us guys. Like old times,” Zack adds with a grin.
“We were thinking eight or so,” Steve says. “Shane said he’s down.”
I shrug, then reach for Cat’s glass of water and drain half of it in one gulp. “Sure.” I nod at Zack and the small tripod set up at the end of the table. “I see you’re still going strong with filming.”
“Hell yes.” Zack’s eyes light up. “I’m never not filming.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask about that, but I didn’t want to be rude,” Brady chimes in, his arm draped over Vada’s shoulder. He’s a shorter guy, clean-shaven face, with thick dark brown hair and eyes to match. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s of Armenian descent. “Why are you always filming?”
I turn serious. “Oh, man, I can’t believe Vada hasn’t told you. We don’t really like to talk about it because it makes him feel like shit, but Zack suffers from short-term memory loss.”
Brady turns pale as he looks from me to Zack to Vada.
Vada nods solemnly, like she’s been asked to speak at a memorial service. “Yeah, he was born that way. My brother has real trouble finding things.”
“Oh, yeah,” Cat says sweetly. “Did you ever end up finding it?”
I beam at her proudly.
“God, fuck off, you guys,” Zack gripes loudly. Everyone busts up laughing. “I don’t have short-term memory loss,” he says to Brady, who looks like he just got released from a hostage situation. “I started filming everything when I was like fifteen. Especially when it was all of us together.”
He leans forward slightly. “I actually made an admission movie instead of writing an essay for UCLA.”
Brady blinks. “No shit?”
“Yeah. It was basically a short documentary about us,” he says, looking around the table. “Growing up together. The dumb stuff, the good stuff. I figured if I was gonna ask a school to believe in me, they should see what made me.”
Brady’s body sags with relief. “Right. Vada told me you wanted to break into the film industry.”
“Yep. I’ve been filming for three years now. I’ve captured some pretty amazing stuff so far; some really, really cool moments.”
“So, Brady,” I say, pivoting the conversation. “How long have you and Vada been seeing each other?”
“A couple of months now,” he says. Vada looks at him with a mushy expression.
“Are you from New York?” I ask. I notice Cat’s hand gliding an inch up and down my thigh. I can tell it’s an unconscious caress, but I love it. Cat’s touch is unlike anything else.
“No, I’m from Philly. My parents are out of the country for a few weeks, and Vada invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family,” he says, then looks around the table.
“She didn’t tell me that this apparently included seven of her closest friends,” he chuckles.
“I’ve been learning that you all go back to kindergarten or something.
That’s so fucking cool. I’m still trying to get everyone straight, though.
You’re Steve’s brother, right? But you live with Shane, who’s your best friend.
And Cat is your girlfriend, and Vada’s brother is your brother’s best friend? ”
Tori giggles. “Confusing, right?”
“Spot on,” I say, laughing. “You coming to the gym with us in the morning?”
“Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you guys?”
“Definitely,” Zack says, just as Shane returns to the table.
“Well, Ran, I tried,” he says with a smirk. “But there’s a table of four pretty drunk girls and they’re insisting that you come take another round of drink orders.”
Cat’s hand glides higher on my thigh—casual, confident—until she cups my dick through my jeans and gives it a sensual squeeze.
I look at her while she smiles, her eyes donning the most seductive little gleam. “Don’t forget who you belong to,” she says quietly.
“Never,” I say, planting a kiss on her perfect lips, and get up from the table to get back to work.