Track 11
December – ALANA
“SO, ANYWAY, I told Avery to shove it, and I quit.”
“You did?” My voice hikes up with my surprise in Lia’s announcement.
We’re at Donn’s on account of Jake working tonight and promising free drinks.
I haven’t seen her much this semester—her class schedule clashes with my overbooked one.
And not that I’m looking to admit it, but my new friendship with Jake has taken up most of my free time.
Needless to say, I missed my girl. It’s refreshing just being around her.
To know that some people really are exactly who they seem to be.
“Yes, I left. Fuck that guy,” she yells over the live country band. “Trying to give me the crap shifts because I wouldn’t go out with him. That’s a dick move.”
“Totally! Screw that guy!” I agree.
She nods in approval then takes a long sip before she raises her glass, her cherry-painted smile wide as ever.
I laugh as I clink my glass to hers. “To telling dicks to shove it!”
“Shove it, dicks!” I agree. Our glasses are still midair when Jake appears at our table with a plate of loaded nachos.
“What is it we’re shoving now?” His playful downward grin compliments the mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He’s wearing a backward black snapback and a maroon T-shirt with dark jeans. The sleeves are rolled up to his shoulders, exposing the full sculpt of his deeply grooved arms.
“Dicks!” Lia yells, using her tongue to toy with her straw.
“Ah, yes.” He nods in understanding. “Who doesn’t love a good, shoved dick?” he says in agreement, sending Lia and I into a fit of giggles that lingers with our alcohol-induced buzz.
“These are on the house,” he says, pointing to the nachos. He smiles politely at Lia before sending me a wink. And holy shit, my whole damn body tingles.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say with a shake of my head, feeling a little bit of the room spin with it.
He shrugs. “Figured it’s a good idea considering the massive amount of alcohol you two have consumed.”
“And you keep ‘em comin,’ Big Daddy,” Lia nearly sings as she finishes the rest of her drink and grabs a chip off the platter. I laugh as Jake’s eyebrows hike, and his lips dip into an amused grin. His attention is back on me in a second.
“I’m closing in, like, an hour, maybe less,” he says as he scans the scarce crowd. “The band usually hangs around until just before lights go out. If you wanna wait, I’ll walk you home.”
My chest warms, and I try my best not to show it on my face, even though I can feel it turning pink.
“Sure, I’ll wait,” I hum with a smile. He nods once, smile set in place, before turning away and heading back to his work at the bar.
Once he’s out of earshot, Lia’s teasing begins.
“Sure, I’ll wait,” she mocks. “I’ll wait all night long, and then I’ll tell you where you can shove your big, beautiful cock. Right in my—”
“Lia!”
She snorts. “Girl, I was thinking you, but fine, I’ll take him.”
“Oh my gosh.” My head falls to my hands as I nearly die of embarrassment.
There are thoughts I can’t allow myself to think, places I can’t allow myself to wander.
I pull up the memory of the conversation Jake and I had in my kitchen—the one where I forced myself to say I was fine with just being friends and nothing more.
Because that’s all I can offer, if anything at all.
“Okay, but seriously. What’s up with him? Are you guys like—”
“No. We’re just friends,” I say too quickly.
“Like, friends who fuck?”
“Girl, no! Like friends who are friends! What is wrong with your brain?” I defend through an uncomfortable laugh.
She rolls her eyes. “What is wrong with yours? That man is sexy as hell, and he is into you—”
“He is not.”
“Is so. The want is practically oozing off of him.” She makes a dripping motion with her hand. “He probably pictures you every time he comes.”
My cheeks flush. “Please stop talking.”
“Did you see the way his eyes twinkled when he saw you?” she continues, ignoring me. “Not to mention the free drinks and food? And the wink! I’m already on my knees, mouth wide open with—”
“Rosalia!” Heat blossoms on my cheeks and ears.
It’s not that I haven’t thought about Jake in that way, it’s that I’m constantly working to force myself not to.
I can’t think about his strong hands or what they would feel like along my skin.
Around my waist. How safe I’d feel in the security of his arms. How easily he could lift me up and carry me away if he wanted.
His perfect damn lips on me, on my body, just… everywhere.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t have time to be falling for boys. And definitely not ones who aren’t even available.”
Lia gives me a knowing grin.
“What?” I say, forcing my lips not to split into a smile.
“Hate to break it to ya, babe, but I think you’ve already fallen.” Her eyes move back to Jake. “And he seems pretty damn available to me.”
My eyes follow hers, landing on the kind, handsome man behind the bar. My mind filters to a few days back when Jake showed up at my place unexpectedly. Very unexpectedly, considering I had sort of been avoiding him after our ‘just friends’ conversation left me more disappointed than it should have.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said as I opened the door. His hands were wrapped behind his back, and I tried my hardest to still my erratic heart as it beat wildly at the sight of him.
He brought his hands forward, and there between them was a small three-foot-tall real Christmas tree.
“It’s not much.” He shrugged. “But it’ll do for now.”
I pursed my lips to contain my smile, but they tilted upward, anyway. “It’s Thanksgiving,” I said with a lift of my brow.
He bent to grab the bag by his feet and pushed past me. “Exactly. Perfect timing.” He winked as he made his way in, and it was all I could do not to collapse because of my jelly legs.
He moved my coffee table under the window in the corner and placed the small tree on top. Then he stood back and assessed its placement, turning it this way and that until it was just right. The fresh smell of pine filled the small room, and I took a deep breath.
A lump caught in my throat as I stared at my very first Christmas tree. “It’s perfect,” I murmured. His eyes moved to mine, full of warmth and wonder.
“It’s not done yet,” he said with a smirk.
He set the radio to a Christmas jazz station and started unpacking the bag full of everything we would need.
We spent the next thirty minutes decorating the tabletop tree with strings of colorful lights, ornaments of various sizes, and topped it with a brightly-lit star.
When we were finished, he covered the base with a soft white blanket he said was a tree skirt. To me, it looked like freshly fallen snow.
I marveled at the finished product, my eyes stinging and my throat tight with emotion.
“Thank you,” I said, tears welling in my eyes.
His lips curved into that endearing grin. “What are friends for?”
My smile deepened, and my heart warmed in a way I had never felt before but wanted to live with forever.
He held my gaze a moment longer, then he walked to my kitchen and pulled open the junk drawer, grabbing two menus before he closed it.
“Okay, so…” He lifted each menu. “Chinese or Italian?”
“Mmm. Chinese, definitely. They’re the only ones open on Thanksgiving Day,” I said.
“True,” he agreed.
I smiled again as he pulled out his phone and placed our order.
Forty minutes later, we were sitting on my couch eating pork fried rice out of Styrofoam containers and calling out every line we knew as Home Alone played on the TV, the room dimly lit by the small tree beside it.
My heart had never been so full.
I take a sip of my drink, ignoring Lia’s prodding as I place the memory back into the deep corner of my mind.
My feelings for Jake are something I’ve shelved for good reason, and I need to keep it that way.
Plus, Jake made it clear he’d like to be friends, and no matter how I feel, it really is for the best. My whole life is up in the air right now, and what I know is coming is more than enough to bear.
If Lia wants to press further, she doesn’t, allowing me the space I need to exist in the limbo I’m currently stuck in.
She doesn’t know much of it—no one does really.
All she knows is I need as little distractions as possible so I can make clear choices about a future that has no face, no picture, and no clarity.
I don’t know what happens next exactly, but whatever of this life I’ll want to take with me after that degree hits my hand, none of it will fit into the reality that’s mine—the home I have no choice but to go back to.
The voicemail my dad left me this morning takes the place of the memory I tucked away—the one where he cursed me for abandoning him like my “no good” mother did, his voice raspy and tone jagged. It may sound harsh, but it was actually kind of him to refer to my mother so highly.
His favorite phrase for her is: that two timing whore that left you for dead. So the former was nearly a term of endearment. It’s never lost on me that he considers my mother leaving me alone with him the equivalent of being left for dead. I wonder if he’s ever realized that.
I probably shouldn’t have listened to it. It was barely ten in the morning, and he was already too wasted to form coherent sentences. It’s been over a year since I’ve heard from him, so I should have known better, but that hope—it’ll get you.
In hindsight, maybe it’s a good thing I hit play on that message, so now I can maintain a grip on my reality. Reliving that pain is a good reminder of what I’ve left behind and what I’ll never outrun, no matter how many miles I put between us.
I bottom out my drink, making a conscious decision to let the thoughts slip away.
Six nachos and three shots later, Lia is chatting it up with a new bartender—whose name is apparently Tyler—as if she’s known him for years.