“I aim to please.”
“Do you ever say no when asked to do something?”
“Oh gosh no. I like people to like me.”
I shook my head. “What if I told you that people don’t actually like you, but they like what you do for them?”
Her eyes flashed with an intense vulnerability. “Well, that would make me very sad.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I think people only do like me because of what I do for them. And if I don’t do things for them, then they probably wouldn’t like me very much. Which means…I’d be lonely.”
“Red…that’s ridiculous. You are the most likeable person on this whole planet. But people take advantage of that because you are too good. So, I’m going to teach you to set boundaries.”
She wiggled her body around. “That makes me uncomfortable.”
“Good. It should. We aren’t here to be comfortable; we are here to grow. And believe me when I say, once you fall in love with yourself, the right people will come who expect nothing from you at all.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I tossed a few fries into my mouth. “I think for research perhaps we need to look into why you ended up with someone like Jason to begin with.”
“That’s easy…I loved his parents so much and the feeling of family, that I lied to myself about who he really was.”
“Why did you lie to yourself, though? I don’t get it.”
She tilted her head, seemingly baffled by my confusion. “Because the lie felt more comforting than the truth, and if I didn’t have that lie, then I’d be alone.”
“What’s so scary about being alone?”
“Everything,” she confessed. “Everything’s scary about being alone.”
That made me sad for her, because I knew what loneliness felt like. Maybe not as deeply as her, because I was pretty content with my loneliness. Sometimes I’d have women come into my life for random flings, but I’d learned to enjoy my own company.
“I’d rather be alone by myself than lonely with someone else,” I told her. She smiled, but it felt so sad. I reached across to her and took her hands into mine. “Red, by the end of this, you’re going to be stronger than you ever thought. You’re going to wake up and feel full without the need of another soul, but it will take some time. I’ll be right here beside you, too. You’re going to be confident, and strong, and not take anyone’s bullshit even if their lies feel a bit comforting. You’re going to learn quickly that it’s so much better to sit in moments of ugly truths than swim in beautiful lies.”
28
Aaliyah
“There is no way in hell I’m putting that on,” I said, standing in the living room with my hands on my hips. It had only been twenty-four hours since Connor had become my life coach, and he had already lost his freaking mind.
“Oh, yes the hell you are.”
There he was, standing in the middle of his home, wearing a banana outfit. He was grinning ear to ear like a dork as he held my costume in his hand—a plum.
“You’re insane.”
“Yes,” he agreed, then he held the costume out toward me. “Now get dressed.”
“No way. I refuse to become a plum.”
“If you’re interested, I have a peach costume in my bedroom,” he offered with his devilish smirk.
“Where did you even get these?”
“Amazon Prime, same day shipping.”
Thanks a lot, Jeff Bezos.
He began shaking his banana around as he came toward me. “Come on, Red. You had no problem exploring New York with me two years ago in costumes.”
“That’s because it was Halloween night! Everyone was in costumes.”
“Since when do we care what everyone’s doing?”
“Uh, since forever?”
He walked toward me, with his banana end poking me in the side. “Which is exactly why we are going to do this. We are going to step outside of the mode and do what no one else is doing. We are going to make fools of ourselves, because the more comfortable we become with being uncomfortable, the more comfortable we will end up.”
I blinked a few times. “Nothing about what you said made any sense.”
“All I’m saying is, we are going to have a fun day being weird and exploring town dressed as sexually charged fruits, because we don’t care what other people think of us. Life is too short to not have fun and dress up like fruit on random Saturday nights.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Yes.” He held the costume out toward me. “Now, go get dressed.” I parted my lips to argue some more, but he placed his finger against my lips, shushing me. “You promised you would let me coach you. Now, come on. Let’s get this going.”
Reluctantly, I put on the plum outfit, and came out feeling like a complete fool. I was round, plump, and a nice vibrant purple.
Connor’s face exploded with laughter as he stared my way. “Oh my gosh, this is so much better than I’d imagined it to be.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving the house like this,” I told him.
“You are definitely leaving the house like this. Come on, we gotta go.” He walked over to his dining room table and picked up a huge boom box. Why in the world did he have a boombox? This guy was so weird in the best of ways.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked. “And why do we need a boombox?”
“We’re going to Times Square, to put on a show,” he told me, grabbing his keys off the coffee table. “So, let’s go.”
A show? What? No. Nope. I didn’t sign up for any public actions of humiliation.
“I’m sorry, Connor. I’m already drawing the line at any kind of show performances. I don’t have that level of confidence.”
“I know. Which is exactly why we’re doing it.”
“We’re not doing it.”
“Oh yes, Red.” He nodded with the biggest smile in the world. “We are.”
“No.” I stomped my feet. “We aren’t.”
Next thing you knew, I was standing in the middle of Times Square, dressed as a plum next to a male banana, as he put a cassette tape into the boom box. Where did he get a cassette tape?!
People were staring at us, but most of the people who looked on were tourists, which made me pleased to know that I’d probably never see them again. What made me less than excited? The cell phones in their hands as they began recording Connor and me.
“Connor, this is too much for me,” I said, feeling silly.
“No, not yet. This is going make it too much for you,” he explained, hitting play on his boom box. Within seconds, “What a Feeling,” by Irene Cara came blasting through the speakers. Was he truly playing the song from Flashdance?
Then, he began dancing around like a madman. He was humping his hips around with his banana, thrusting the air and spinning around and around. “Dance, Red,” he said, waving my way.
I felt so extremely embarrassed as people laughed at him leaping around like wild.
“I can’t dance like people aren’t watching, Connor,” I warned.
“Good. Dance as if they are. And then don’t care what they think.” He came over to me and took my hands into his. He squeezed them. “Aaliyah.”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
His eyes were so sincere as he asked me. He was filled with hope and excitement, and trust…
Crap.
I trusted him.
So, I allowed him to pull me into his arms, and the plum danced with the banana. We spun around faster and faster, taking the world on, and the more I danced with him, the more I laughed. The more I laughed, the more I forgot about the bystanders. The more he twirled me, the more freedom I found.
We danced to a lot of songs, each one filled with positivity, and when the last song came to a halt, when we hit the final note, I asked Connor to play the cassette over again.
Having Connor come back into my life felt like a blessing I didn’t deserve. At
times, I wondered if he were even real, or if I’d somehow slipped into an unbelievable make-believe world where superheroes really existed and swooped in to save the day.
Talking with Connor was like talking to an old friend you hadn’t seen in years but truly cared for—effortless. All of the charm he’d had two years earlier was still there, tenfold. He didn’t know it, but I was in desperate need of his friendship.
Though, his life coach tasks were a bit overwhelming at times. He’d even given me a list of homework to tackle each morning.
Dance around my bedroom to a positive song.
Say no to someone you love.
Have a cheat meal.
I was still building up the courage to tackle number two and three on the list, but number one came pretty easy for me, seeing how Connor had left of list of positive songs for me to pick and choose from.
“Firework” by Katy Perry
“Best Life” by Cardi B (feat. Chance the Rapper)
“All I Do is Win” by DJ Khaled
“Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake
“You Got It” by VEDO
His list was a great start. At first, I felt silly doing the act. I didn’t know how it was helping me learn to love myself, but if I could dance in the middle of Times Square as a plum, I could easily dance around my bedroom. I did it first thing in the morning, after taking a shower. I’d wrap my body in a towel and move my body as if there wasn’t a care in the world.
I added more songs to the playlist, too.
“This is Me” by Keala Settle & The Greatest Showman Ensemble
“I Am” by Yung Baby Tate (feat. Flo Milli)
“Brown Skin Girl” by Beyoncé
Even on the mornings when my self-doubt was louder than the music, I danced. On those days, I danced more. I’d began to dance in front of the mirror completely naked, looking at my body, all the flaws that all of my ex-boyfriends used to point out. My stretch marks. My too small chest. My fat ass. All if it stared back at me as I moved my hips.
I began singing along with the songs, allowing them to vibrate all across my skin.
“Oh, hell yeah! It sounds like a dance party in here!” Connor said one early Monday morning, walking into my bedroom waving his hands in the air.
“Oh my gosh!” I screamed, turning around to face him, completely naked. The only piece of fabric on my body was the towel wrapped around my hair.
“Boobs!” he shouted, hurriedly turning around and covering his eyes with his hands. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, Aaliyah! I just heard the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman and I always get excited about The Greatest Showman, and I’ll be honest I didn’t expect to walk in on the greatest show, man,” he rambled, making the redness deepen in my cheeks, but also making me snicker a bit from how embarrassed he’d been for walking in on me. I think his face reddened more than mine.
“Also, sorry for yelling boobs. What am I? A teenage kid who just saw his first set of tits? I mean, it wasn’t. I’ve seen boobs before. Many. Well, not many. But, not few. Definitely not few. I’d seen a completely normal, average amount of breasts throughout my adulthood. Not a weird low amount and not an absurdly high number either. But you know what I mean, yours boobs aren’t the first pair I’ve seen, which means I probably shouldn’t be shouting out boobs toward you like a freaking psychopath even though, I mean, what I’m trying to say is your boobs are worth shouting for. I mean, fuck, I’m going to go now,” he said, his nervous energy shooting throughout his system. He began hurrying away with his eyes covered.
“Connor, watch out for—”
Bam. He walked straight into the doorframe.
He held a hand up and waved. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Okay. Leaving. Bye.”
With that, he was gone, leaving me with no discomfort. Only laughs.
29
Connor
Boobs, boobs, boobs.
Fuck. Not just boobs. They were more than just boobs. They were breasts. Full grown, homemade, deliciously plump and perky breasts. Aaliyah Winters was a masterpiece. I didn’t need to see her naked to remind me of that fact, but holy shit, seeing her naked? Not a regret of mine.
Sure, I should’ve knocked on her door. That was roommate 101, but I wasn’t thinking at all. When I heard good ole Hugh Jackman and his gang singing, my body just responded to the sounds.
Breasts, breasts, breasts.
Dammit, Red, why did you have to look like that? So Perfect? So curvy, so smooth, so damn desirable.
All I wanted to do was walk over to her and let my hands wander—which were probably thoughts I shouldn’t have been holding for a new roommate. Especially seeing how I was her new unofficially-official life coach. My thoughts weren’t really morally correct to have about my new client, but at the end of the day, I was just a man. A man with an extremely hardened dick sitting in my office the morning after finding Aaliyah exposed.
I listened to her music playing in her bedroom that morning, and I wondered if she were dancing again. Naked. With those breasts exposed.
I leaned back a bit in my office chair and closed my eyes, clearing my throat. My mind began thinking about her moving to the music, her hips swaying back and forth, her body moving in the most mystical way.
Her lips. Her collarbone. Her nipples. Her lips—different set of lips that time.
All I wanted to do was move with her, dance close with my body pressed up against her skin. Unfortunately, all I had was my hand and my cock to create some kind of pleasure. I slid my sweatpants down, and gripped my cock into my hands as I began stroking it up and down, thinking of Red, of her body, her curves, her.
Fuck, I wanted to taste her. I bet she tasted like the greatest high.
I repositioned myself in my chair, leaning back more as the strokes became more intense. I gripped myself harder, imagining it being Aaliyah’s mouth moving up and down my cock, taking me all in as I pinched her nipples between my fingers. I’d pull her on top of me next, having her sit on my face, letting me taste her, suck her, fuck her hard until she came all over my face. I’d lick up all of her delicious juices as she—
“Connor, I’m ordering in some—oh my gosh!” Aaliyah screamed, forcing me to open my eyes as I was seconds away from an exploding orgasm hitting me and—oh fuck, nope. Couldn’t stop that train from going, because it already left the damn tracks.
“Fuck!” I shot up from my chair and turned my back to Aaliyah. I hurried over to the corner of my office as I unloaded all of my dirty thoughts into my trash bin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned. Yup. That was right, friends. I was moaning as I got off into a trash bin because even with my embarrassment, an orgasm was an orgasm, and shit, it felt good. Afterward, though, shame was all that was left.
I felt like a kid that got caught with a Playboy Magazine. Aaliyah somehow was both the Playboy Magazine and the individual who’d caught me with it.
I turned around to express my extreme humiliation and apologies for her walking in on what she walked in on, but when I looked behind me, the door was closed and she was on the other side of it. Thinking back on it, I should’ve probably shut the door before I started yanking my cock, but you know what they said, an idiot was always going to be an idiot.
“I’m sorry! I saw your door was open and well, I was going to ask you if you wanted me to order you some breakfast,” Aaliyah exclaimed from outside the door.
“Right, yeah, no big deal. Sorry about that.”
There was a silence for a moment.
I felt like a complete moron.
A dirty, filthy moron.
Then, Aaliyah’s voice came back.
“So…” She paused for a moment. “Do you want scrambled eggs? I would offer you some sausage, but I think you’re all set with that.”
I snickered to myself, feeling my humiliation began to fade. She could’ve allowed the situation to be uncomfortable, and odd, but instead, she went with humor.
Damn.
I really liked that girl.
> 30
Aaliyah
The first few weeks of living with Connor were so easy—even with our embarrassing moments. If anything, those experiences made us more relaxed and comfortable around one another. After he saw me dancing naked, and I saw him, well…fully awake, we’d crossed out most of the awkward parts of having a roommate.
Check and check.
If I were honest with myself, which I was trying to be more and more each day, I’d say I wondered what he was envisioning as he sat back in his office chair, stroking his hands up and down.
Yup, both hands.
He needed both for his massive Captain America. His Incredible Hulk. His Iron Man. Thor’s hammer. I bet he could knock a woman right out of Asgard with that thing.
Swing that hammer, Connor, swing.
After the unfortunate interactions—well, maybe unfortunate for him, but I didn’t mind my view—we created rules where doors should’ve been closed during a person’s, um, intimate moments. And if a door was closed, there was a no entrance policy in place.
Other rules were created, too.
We’d made up the rule that any interview topics would be left outside of the household, so he’d have a safe place to return to after his long days at work, which were oftentimes very long days. Even though I left the article aspect of his life outside of his home, he brought his workday into what was supposed to be his haven.
Some days, he’d get home around ten at night, and he’d go straight to his office and dive back into doing work until the wee hours of the morning.
On Sunday morning, I’d awakened early to go visit Grant’s grave for my weekly trip, and I was surprised when I saw Connor still sitting in front of his computer. I knocked on the doorframe, and he looked up, appearing exhausted.
“Early morning or late night?” I asked.
He glanced at his watch and groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face. “Late night. What are you doing up so early?”
“On Sundays I go out of the city to visit Grant’s tombstone. I get up early so I can catch the sunrise with him and read some comic books.”
Eastern Lights Page 22