Twenty-Five
Elle
I have no idea what the hell I am doing.
I am quite literally making it up with every minute of every day. All I know is that a moment spent with Oliver is better than any spent without him. And in that moment at the bar, I knew I needed Oliver more than I’ve wanted anyone in my life. Screw the consequences.
I’m not sure what this means, or if Oliver’s feelings have changed about wanting a relationship.
I’m too afraid to ask. Because whatever happened that night, it was amazing.
And I don’t want to ruin it. So for the first time in my life, I try not to get caught up in the happily ever after of it all.
Even though my mind is filled with all the moments Oliver has shown me he does care about me: pulling me away from that sleazy guy, smiling when I got home from work, fixing up the couch so I always had exactly what I needed before he left for work for the night.
And then I think about how refreshing it was to be intimate with him and…
laugh. To be comfortable. To not be worried about what he was thinking or feeling or trying to be sexy in the moment.
I was able to just be. Never in my life have I ever felt so sure of myself, so desired, than I did that night with Oliver.
And I’m afraid that after experiencing that, I’ll never be able to settle for anything less.
And I really don’t want to.
But the truth is, I have to be able to roll with whatever Oliver is willing to give me right now.
Because Lucy was right. I shouldn’t settle.
And I deserve to give this thing with Oliver a chance, despite what he has said.
I think Oliver is just so caught up in the past and all the pressure that’s been put on him, that he’s not used to being told how amazing he truly is.
It’s like he’s needed Hype Girl Elle his whole life.
And now I’m here, I want him to know how much I want him.
I can be with Oliver without a plan. Why not? I can roll with it. Go with the flow. Sure I can!
Screw. The. Consequences!
“You know you don’t sound convincing at all, right?
” Lucy asks after I’ve recited this speech to her one night after work.
We’re sitting on our respective couches on FaceTime.
Both of our TVs are playing the same Friends episode and we’re in our pajamas.
Thor is curled up on the other end of my couch, and Blue is sprawled out next to Lucy.
I haven’t seen Oliver since Sunday, aside from picking up and dropping off Thor for the last two nights.
Pick-ups and drop-offs which have included several make out sessions, but little else.
I ignore the thoughts in the back of my head that insist Oliver is avoiding having “the conversation” with me.
He’s been quiet, more than usual, in the few moments that we’ve spent together.
I can tell he wants to say something, but anytime I try to start talking to him, he kisses me, or rushes out the door for work.
I’m trying not to overthink it. It’s Oliver, he struggles to share things.
We’ll talk eventually. I’m know we will.
“Screw the consequences!” I add a fist into the air motion like I’m starting a revolution and not trying to convince my friend of something.
“Nope, not better.”
“Eh, it’s a work in progress, but I’m in it for the long haul,” I say flippantly. I can be flippant. Sure I can. Who can be flippant? Elle Thompson can!
“Anyway, I can’t wait to see this arrangement in action. Is Oliver coming on Saturday? Have you seen him since you hooked up?” Lucy asks, throwing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
My cheeks heat when I think of how Oliver barely waited for me to open the door tonight when he dropped Thor off.
I still had a grip on the door handle when he pushed his way in and wrapped me in his arms. He picked me up and devoured me into a kiss at the same time, his big hands squeezing my backside as he turned me around against the door.
I couldn’t catch my breath for several minutes after he left.
“I take your blushing as a yes,” Lucy says, grinning. I stick my tongue out at her. “Elle, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Absolutely zero,” I reply, making an “O” gesture with my hand.
“Great, let me know when you want to tackle that,” she says knowingly.
“I did ask him to come on Saturday,” I say, remembering the conversation from this morning. “He was a little weird about it though.”
“Weird how?”
“Um…” My voice trails off as I remember Oliver swaying at my door this morning as I asked him to go to Lucy’s book launch party with me.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he’d said initially.
“You don’t know? You like Lucy, don’t you?”
He’d curled his hand behind his neck, rubbing his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, of course—”
“Well, then it’s settled.” I reached up to kiss him on the cheek, and I felt his entire body tense.
I’ve tried to ignore the nagging feeling in my stomach since then.
“Anyway, I told my mom not to come. I think it will be too overstimulating for Nick,” I add, trying to divert the conversation away from Oliver.
“Aw, really? I was looking forward to seeing them.” Lucy pouts.
“Yeah, I think it is for the best,” I say. Thor jumps off the couch and scratches his paw against the door. He turns and looks at me with his big black eyes. “I’ve got to take Thor out. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, be careful,” Lucy says, and I hang up.
I throw on a sweatshirt, relishing in the fact that I can finally put my heavy coats away for the season, and put on Thor’s leash before we head out.
I shake my head at the fact when I first met Oliver and Thor, it was March, and I had Thor dressed in sweaters to go outside, much to Oliver’s dismay.
Now we get to linger a bit longer on our walks, go a bit farther, soak up New York City in early May, when there’s this short transitionary period between it being so cold your tears turn to ice and it being so hot that the entire city smells like a combination of B.O. and urine. It’s a special time.
Thor and I head to the dog run, where I let him off the leash and take a seat at one of the benches around a tree.
The park is fairly empty, with just a few other dogs for Thor to play with.
I pick up one of the random tennis balls on the ground and throw it.
Oliver would cringe if I did that. He only likes Thor to play with his own toys, not ones that people have left on the dirty mulch of the dog park.
My lips quirk up into a smile thinking of Oliver and all his eccentricities.
I notice every one of them, but I’m not sure he knows that I do.
There’s the fact that he would always rather get takeout than go to a restaurant—I think it’s a combination of anxiety about being in a crowd and drinking out of a cup that isn’t his.
He hasn’t verbalized this, but the more time we spend together, the better I get at reading him.
Then, there’s his nighttime routine: brushing his teeth, placing his phone on the charger, checking that his alarm is set three times before finally placing the phone on the front right corner of the nightstand.
His pillows: one behind his head and one on each side of him.
The one behind his head is the light gray pillowcase and the two on the side are darker gray.
I’ve seen him change his sheets and place them in that fashion every time.
The light gray goes in the middle, always.
When we first met, he was the firmest, tightest closed book I’d ever met, but over time, I’ve been able to flip through his pages, appreciating every word they have to offer.
It’s in that moment that I realize I’ve learned more about Oliver in a few months than anyone I’ve ever dated in the past. And the best part?
It didn’t feel like a job interview. I didn’t have to answer a dating survey to find someone compatible with my personality type.
I simply found a friend. I got to know him—slowly and patiently.
We had fun together. We laughed. We played.
And now, I feel like everything truly led us here.
Or rather, to where we ended up the other night.
Didn’t I always say I wanted to just be in a relationship without having to go through all the trouble?
That’s what happened with Oliver. We fell into it.
I’m just not sure that Oliver sees it the same way.
The sun has just set, so it’s not completely dark out, but the sky is clear with the last sliver of light just peeking over the horizon.
I look up at the sky, wishing I could see the stars.
Most days, I’m happy with life in the city.
Lucy hated it, but I love the convenience it offers.
I love the walkability and the variety of cultures around every corner. But I miss the stars.
When we were kids, Nicky and I used to take Meatball out at night together.
Nick was terribly afraid of the dark when he was little, and taking the dog out was one way I got him to face that fear.
Meatball would roam around the yard—he wasn’t very athletic, as his name suggested, so he wouldn’t enjoy the intense game of fetch that I am currently playing with Thor—and Nick and I would name the constellations.
His favorite was Orion, primarily because it was the only one he could ever find.
“There he is, Well!” he would say in his mumbled voice, his chubby finger pointing at the sky. He couldn’t say Elle when he was little, so he’s always called me Wellie. I’d look up and immediately find Orion’s belt, and trace the line up to his arrow with Nick, so he could see the full picture.
I love the sky as it is now, at twilight.
I think it is the time where it is most obvious that we live in a small world, on a small planet, in a system of many, in a universe of infinity.
I think back to those nights standing on the lawn with my brother, feeling so insignificant with the endless sky above me.
Thor trots over to me and sits at my legs, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
I reach down and pet him, scratching behind his ears, an unsettling feeling in my stomach when he looks up at me.
I’ve grown so attached to Thor. I love him, really.
And yet, there’s something in my gut that worries that he is temporary.
He is Oliver’s dog, and Oliver, as he has said himself, is not forever.
“I don’t think that will be for me. Not anytime soon anyway.”
It’s those words that echo in my head long after I’ve gone to sleep that night, the same sense of worry staying with me the next day, thinking that this little life I’ve fallen into over the past few months is just a few words away from being taken from me.