Sebastian #2
The passive-aggressive throwing of pieces of clothes told me that Dixon was getting dressed for a cold night out.
“No,” Jennifer snapped in reply to my question. “I never had anyone over. I just don’t like…when you don’t call…” She struggled to find new words because those she had spoken turned to lies as Dixon stepped toward us and yanked his jacket on. True to his word, he carried the big pizza with him.
“This is bullshit,” he growled. He turned to me. “Don’t fucking lay a finger on her.”
“Dixon, go away,” Jennifer all but screeched.
I stepped away from them both. “No worries there. I wouldn’t touch her with a stick.”
“Whoa,” the brute growled at me. “Shut the f…”
“Dixon,” Jennifer reminded him, and the dude punched the elevator button.
An awkward silence settled while Dixon waited for the elevator to return and I wondered if I had any reason to linger.
Perhaps to let my feelings pour into words?
I didn’t know why I would want to do that.
I didn’t know why I would spill my heart out to the very person who had shredded it.
What would that accomplish? I couldn’t make her ashamed when she had no shame. Besides, I didn’t want to.
We were all losers here.
Dixon struggled with the box and I watched with disgust as he slipped a greasy slice of pizza out and began eating it in the hallway.
Drops of orange pepperoni oil dribbled down his chin.
He sauntered into the elevator, dropped the slice on top of the box, and pressed the button with one oily finger. Fucking asshole.
As the elevator door closed, I looked at Jennifer. “He’s a catch.”
She rolled her eyes with total disdain. “Don’t give me that shit.”
“Which shit should I give you?” I asked, unable to resist. Perhaps I wasn’t as grown-up as I had presented myself to be. The wound that tore open deep inside of me was slow to begin bleeding, but it bled all the same.
Jennifer lingered at the door silently. Her light brown hair was dark with the water that soaked it, dripping down her shoulders.
She was a lean girl, her bony shoulders poking out, her breasts small and firm, and her hips just as thin as the rest of her.
Her fingers were long even without her acrylic nails.
But as I looked up, I found her light brown eyes blazing with annoyance.
“You never want to have sex,” she said and shook her head slightly.
“I’m not doing this out here,” I said, pulling away.
She stepped away from the door. I didn’t know where I wanted to go.
If I entered her studio, the place where I had been endlessly happy so many times, would I crack?
Would this mask of calm demeanor fall? Would I plead with her and degrade myself by offering to work it out?
To take the blame? To pretend I wasn’t hurt so I wouldn’t shame her?
But to turn around and walk away without speaking another word felt wrong, too. I had so much to tell her. And I wanted to hear even more. Except, her most recent words stung me like I’d dunked my hand in a pot of boiling water.
My back straightened and my arms dropped to my sides. I realized I was still holding the damn chocolate in my left hand. It was beginning to melt. Worse, I had somehow gripped it so hard that it broke.
Jennifer’s gaze flicked down and back to me. There was no pity in them. If anything, I’d only annoyed her further. “Come in.”
I walked into the tiny hallway. To my right, her bathroom was still steaming from a long, hot shower. It made my stomach turn. As I shut the door, I couldn’t help it. My lips dragged down and I forced myself to remain steady. “Why?” I knew it made me look pathetic. “I thought you liked me.”
“I like you, Sebastian,” she said as she walked into the main room. It was just as cluttered and as busy as ever, but all the magic was gone. As if she wanted to tear the wound apart, she untied her towel and tossed it over the back of a chair.
I gritted my teeth. Her shoulder blades were pronounced on her slim back.
She walked across the room as if wanting to torture me and opened her wardrobe.
She had a gorgeous deep red robe with light red seams that she slipped on.
She tied a matching sash around her waist and sat down on one side of the bed.
She bent one leg over the other and looked at me, her robe parting to reveal her knee and shin. “I always liked you,” she said.
“Yeah, I feel adored,” I said venomously.
She forced on a tired look for dramatic effect. “Sebastian, it didn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, well, that’s good, then,” I said. “I’d hate to have my life wrecked for something meaningful.”
That jab landed. She thrust her pointy chin out. “When was the last time you showed any interest in me?”
“Are you kidding me? Am I the one on trial here?” My voice thinned into a pained whisper and I had to clear my throat.
My eyes stung again, but all my rage was gone.
These weren’t the tears of hate. I wished I could call them back and simply be angry with Jennifer.
The truth was, I was starting to feel hopelessly sad.
It opened in me like a dark, bottomless pit, and nothing other than despair welled from it.
“Christ, Jennifer, I thought we were good. I thought we were…” Going somewhere? It felt so useless to say it.
“Really? You didn’t realize I needed more? Real classy, Sebastian.” She crossed her arms tightly to hold herself and spat accusations at me. “All you ever want to do is cuddle and fall asleep.”
It took me a moment to find my voice again. The blow was too personal. “I thought you liked that.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I did. I do. But that’s not enough. Jesus. It’s not like I’m horny all the time, but you never…you never want me.”
That was so not true. We’d had so many nights of intimacy.
We’d had some of the best sex ever when the stars had aligned.
The winter break had separated us for a bit, and then hockey drills left me gasping for air, and I was tired.
I was tired of everything. I just wanted to be next to someone who cared about me and who understood what searing muscles felt like and how much the rush of last-minute decisions in my final semester weighed me down.
I wanted someone who would understand what it was like to live up to my parents’ expectations.
But how could she understand? Jennifer hadn’t worked a day in her life.
An only child to a generous couple, she was given everything she needed.
Nobody expected of her anything more than what she delivered.
I’d expected more. I’d expected some kindness. Silly me.
“That’s bullshit,” I said, the words tearing from me before I could rein them in. “You know you’re wrong, so you’re blaming me. But it only makes you look worse.”
“Is this seriously such a big deal?” she demanded. “I didn’t think you were such a conservative.”
“Is it a liberal thing to just look past cheating?” I asked. “Because I didn’t get the fucking memo.”
“We’re not in the nineteen-fifties, Sebastian. It was just sex.” She rolled her eyes, insisting on remaining furious with me for making a big deal out of this.
I drew a deep, calming breath of air. “You don’t care about me.”
Her lower lip quivered.
I hoped she didn’t care. In fact, it was the best possible outcome of this clusterfuck. Because if she cared about me and still stabbed me in the back, it meant that I was so pathetic in her eyes that she thought she could screw some guy named Dixon and still keep me on her leash.
“Even if you thought we had a future, you don’t give a fuck about me,” I said.
“But I do.” Her eyes dazzled with a bit of hope, and I realized that it was all even worse than I’d imagined.
She wanted to be freed of responsibility.
She couldn’t accept that she could have been wrong and she hated me for not letting her have her way.
“I fell for you hard, Jen,” I said. “I fell because that’s what I do. ”
“Babe,” she said in a softer voice. “We can work it out, right?”
I snorted. “There is absolutely no way we will ever work this out.”
Her mouth fell open for a heartbeat. Then, as she came to her senses, she pursed her lips.
“I’m out,” I said. “Good luck with Dixon. You’ll never see me again, Jennifer.”
I turned on my heels, crushing what remained of that chocolate in my left fist. I was out before she could say a word. As the door shut behind my back, I heard a flurry of words that were designed to stab me. “If you could get your dick up, maybe I wouldn’t need to fuck a Tinder match.”
One time, I replied angrily and silently to myself.
It happened one fucking time. It had been a stressful day.
I’d had a heated conversation with my mom just twenty minutes before.
I hadn’t been in the mood for sex. I had only wanted someone to hug me.
But she wouldn’t get me back in there to fight.
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of having that fight.
It was time for me to walk away. She had done her part. It was my turn to lick my wounds and heal if there was any chance to heal. But I wouldn’t do it in front of her.
As I walked out of her building, the entire world spun around me. I wanted to go somewhere where I would be accepted for once. Appreciated. But there was nobody who loved me unconditionally. There was nobody who could provide the comfort and safety for me to just let it out. Except Tyler.
I tightened the walls around my heart. All I had to do was get back to the team house, to my room, and into my bed. Then, I could let myself be a beaten dog, a pathetic door mat, and a useless sack of despair. Because Tyler would be there. And Tyler wouldn’t blink an eye at it.
He would know how to help me.
Tyler always knew.