The Friend Zone (The Relationship Quo Series Book 2)

by Nicole Strycharz

  I hugged my knees, “when did she fall out of contact?”

  My Grandmother made a dismissive hand gesture, “she marry your father then sneak out at night. We never get call or letter until she say she is living in America. We got so angry, we stopped opening letters.” Her eyes misted again. “It was the biggest mistake in our life.”

  “We never know, about you,” my Grandfather expounded, “we didn’t even know she died, until two years after.”

  They said died like they meant to say died, not suicide. I understand. I try to imagine sometimes that she didn’t choose to leave me.

  I swallowed, “I thought a few months ago when Moses told me about my parents… I figured if you knew you didn’t want me so, you let me go into the system.”

  “No!” My Grandfather said in a demanding boom.

  My grandmother held the scarf at her neck, “We never opened letters from America again so there was no knowing. You wouldn’t ever be alone, had we known you were born. We would have taken you home. To our country, to be with us always. Knowing this is what you have all your life, being alone, it burdens my heart. Because we were stubborn and wrong and we must live with this now….”

  A family, I would’ve had a family.

  My Grandfather was so tall that when he sat forward he had to fold his legs in, “you are the flesh of our flesh. No anger could have kept us from you. Your parent’s offences are not your own.”

  Zivah stood and slowly approached, her black heels clacking on my floor, “Grandpa,” she said. “I think it’s time you stop wanting to consider any of what happened an offence, on anyone’s part. Auntie Mika was meant to meet Tito, to have Chloe. They needed to love each other just like you and Grandma needed to love each other. Chloe and I would not exist if you did not love. They didn’t do it to hurt you, they did it to be together.”

  I like my cousin. She’s so beautiful and so eerily like my mother. My Grandfather looked annoyed at her speech but my Grandma looked in agreement with her silent nod, then she added, “We get so angry for her to leave, and marry Tito to live in Greece. We unintentionally drive them away much further to America. Now Chloe has grown up without love.”

  Moses’ dad smiled at me and shook his head, “no ma’am, she had much love. My wife and I saw to that. She was like one of our kids.”

  I smiled from the heart, “they were there for me all the time,” I told them. “The Livingston’s would even move to follow where I was sent as a foster kid. They were my parents in heart, and then I met Brianna and had a sister.”

  Brianna grinned, “love you girl.”

  “Love you too.”

  Grandpa nodded and gave a chin lift at Moses, “you have this young man. That loves you enough to find us out, yes? To pay for our coming.”

  I squeezed Moses’ hand that was still closed around my own, “yeah, he’s amazing. I’m lucky.”

  “A handsome man too,” Grandma put in. “When do you have wedding? We all come for this again. Or you come to Israel and meet Uncle-.”

  I let go of Moses and sat up on the floor, “oh, no we aren’t a couple. Moses is my best friend.”

  Zivah looked back and forth between us but with a tiny closed mouth smile. It was like her eyes could x-ray our relationship and she found all the truths there.

  Moses picked up his wine, “Chloe and I aren’t together, but I love her and I wanted her to have this.”

  More melting.

  My heart can’t handle all the melting.

  Zivah knelt down by me and took my hand, “hello.” She said.

  I laughed and held her hand tighter, “so you are my…”

  “I am your Mother’s sister’s child. Your Aunt Rebekah. I was four when your mother left and five when you were born so I am five years bigger.”

  “Older.” I laughed.

  She laughed at her own English then hugged me into her side, “your mother did send one letter to mine when she married. She said, I am lucky to of married my best friend. It was very sweet. My momma always says they were meant. She wanted to meet you. She says she will come next time.”

  I have an aunt. This is wild.

  As the night came to a close we had cake, and opened gifts and I had what must have been the best birthday of my life. I learned everything about who I was and where I came from and who my mother was as a person.

  “Tell us,” Grandma was laughing with Moses’ father but stopped to ask as we all stood in my tiny kitchen. “What is it you do here, in America Chloe?”

  Though they didn’t see it I slowed, pouring more wine for everyone. I’m never ashamed of what I do, or what I did, but with them, I’m concerned.

  Moses took the wine bottle I was pouring and took up the task of serving before saying, “Chloe is an accomplished dancer. She just won a scholarship to a super elite Arts school that’s known nationally. I don’t think she realizes that if she signs for the tours she might even have shows in Israel.”

  He knew just how to present the floor work for my career to sound appealing.

  “What kind of dancing?” asked Grandpa from his chair.

  I swallowed hard and looked at Moses, but he didn’t look anything less than proud of me.

  “Dancing must run in this family,” said Zivah.

  My heart soared. “Momma danced?”

  She shook her head no, “no, not your momma, but I do. I was in the Israel Ballet.”

  My eyes went very wide, “you?”

  She nodded, “I was very good. Many years. I leave when I have my daughter Hope.”

  “You have a daughter?”

  She grinned and pulled her phone; showing me picture after picture of a stunning seven year old with a missing front tooth. “She is beautiful, no? Very polite. She is with her Grandma now to get spoiled.” She said. “So what do you dance?”

  I let it out in a whoosh. “Pole dancing.” I deliberately didn’t look at any of them as I took a glass from Moses, “I uh…teach classes too.”

  My Grandmother’s brows rose, “you do the dancing with no clothes?”

  I felt so hot with embarrassment my stomach curled like to throw up, “I- I- don’t d-do that type…anymore. I um…only do the professional kind, I dance for events and shows and like I said I teach.”

  Zivah’s eyes lit up. “That sounds exciting, yeah? Very free. I’ve seen dancing like that. They say some groups even try to make it sport…for the Olympics?”

  I was thankful for Zivah’s support but Grandpa’s face wasn’t accepting at all.

  Grandma fanned herself. “You like to do this?” she asked.

  I shrugged but Moses gave me a look to fess up, “yeah, I’m good at it and it’s, well, there’s a lot more to it than people think.”

  Grandma nodded as I spoke like she was at least trying to understand.

  Brianna spoke up, “I used to go to her shows before I lost my sight. She was good then, now she’s over the top. The reason she’s even getting into this school is because a super popular talent scout discovered her at a show.”

  I was so wanting to hug Bri for that.

  Grandpa frowned, “you think this is respectable for a woman to do?”

  Zivah clicked her tongue, “papa… don’t fuss.”

  He looked at me like I was trying to convince him white was black, “I do not understand that you wish to do this. You can’t find good work? Even here? In America?”

  I opened my mouth to concoct something but Moses’ dad stepped in, “Chloe’s last foster home was turbulent. They cut her off from us and were very uncaring. When she turned of age they didn’t support her like a family should. They kicked her out and she didn’t know how to find us. She was a very strong young woman. Independent. She found work as a dancer and made her own way.”

  Grandpa held out his hand, “but you are so bright. So beautiful, you could not do better than something like this?”

  Grandma rolled her eyes at him and waved him off, “stop whining Alon. She is fine. She says she l
ike this work. Let her alone.”

  He was so unsatisfied that he couldn’t leave it and the voices in my head were quick to let me know that I was so disappointing that even my accomplishments were worthless. I wasn’t enough for them just like my parents and they would leave like my parents.

  Grandpa was a hand talker and painted his dislike in the air as he spoke, “this is not the way of a respectable young woman. You should have fought for better ways to live. There is no pride in being without the natural modesty a woman should have-.”

  Moses interrupted, talking over him until Grandpa had to stop. “The truth that no one is addressing Mr. Weizman, is that…you in an act of too much pride, abandoned your daughter for loving someone.” The room was silent and we all looked at Moses. I even felt a little worried that he’d insult the family I just met.

  He went on, “that decision has had domino effects on your family. You had a granddaughter in the states that you didn’t even know. When her father took his life, your daughter was not the fighter you’re boasting about. She gave up. She abandoned Chloe the same as you did her and that too had a domino effect and consequences.”

  I don’t think I was breathing. I was afraid if I breathed too hard I wouldn’t hear him.

  Moses wasn’t loud or disrespectful but he continued to address the elephant in the room, “she may have had my family but for most her life from childhood to now, she’s been alone. Fighting her own battles and fighting her way to success. She took up stripping as a way to provide for herself, and though she’s a person free to make choices, even that choice is a direct result and consequence of yours. Modesty isn’t natural, it’s taught, and usually with shame. Modesty isn’t a virtue. Strength, resilience, kindness, love, and bravery are. Chloe has all of those.”

  Even though I’m terrified of upsetting the man I just met that was my mother’s father, I’m also falling very hard for my friend. He’s protecting me like always and it’s …special.

  Grandpa stubbornly waited a minute then looked at me and nodded like he accepted Moses’ words and it made me breathe again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  MOSES

  That tiff was small and short lived. Not long after it was dismissed and the cheer in the room took over. I defended Chloe not just because she’s my friend and needed backing but because she makes me proud to know her. She’s all the things I said and I want her family to appreciate that.

  When we were all leaving she snuck a kiss from my lips while everyone gathered in the hall. We were in her kitchen and I pressed her into the counter. I could feel her thanks in the sweetness of her lips. The taste of birthday cake on her tongue. The contentment I felt glowing through her skin was enough for me.

  Now three days later she’s calling me daily with stories. Stories about her mother that she didn’t know, stories about her family in Israel, stories about the memories they are making here with her now. They’ve brought their traditions with them too. They’ve taught her Shabbat for the coming weekend.

  Though they’re staying at a hotel I booked that’s five minutes from her place they spend most the time at her apartment. The way I hoped. Hence, the reason I stocked her house with food.

  “Moses!” She said over the phone as I walked into my gym, “you’ll never guess what Grandma asked me.”

  I laughed and nodded to a gym friend, “oh lord.”

  She controlled her own laughter, then imitated her grandmother, “she was like, ‘Chloe? Moses, is good man, and so good looking, why you no see him? Hmm? You both would make wonderful couple and would make stronger Hebrew bloodline yes?”

  I laughed so suddenly I made the people around me frown. “Did you tell her I’m not Jewish?”

  “Well yeah but she thinks I’m making shit up. Your name is Moses.”

  “Tell her we’re Scottish and Mom was full blown Italian. I think dad said we had like a dash of Scandinavian.”

  She sighed, “I think it will break her heart to learn I’m bedding an uncircumcised heathen.”

  We laughed hard and I leaned against my locker, “well, I guess that means you haven’t told them you’re a meditating, Hindu music listening, tree hugging-.”

  “No,” she giggled into my ear, “I haven’t told them yet. But Grandma is coming over tomorrow night to teach me how to make …ugh… I’m so not going to say this right…it’s for Shabbat, it’s a bread…”

  “Challah,” I said as I unlocked my locker. “I dated a Jewish girl once.”

  “That’s it! I’m so excited! They’re making all kinds of new things. Matzo soup and some chicken thing. She even brought me an old family cookbook my mother was supposed to get.”

  She sounds so happy and it’s rewarding. “They’re great people.”

  Then she was quiet a minute, “I think Zivah has a crush on you.” She added. “She thinks you’re hot.” She laughed nervously.

  Yes, Chloe has hot woman genes because not only is she hot, her cousin is hot too, but she’s not the one on my mind all day. I’m also not sure how to breach this. “She’s pretty.”

  Chloe gave a delayed response. “Do you…like…want to go out or something?”

  “She lives half way across the globe Chloe and she has a kid.”

  “You’re amazing with kids.”

  I licked my lips, “I love kids, but she’d have to uproot and I don’t think that’s easy to do with a kid.”

  “Or you could end up moving there.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Why, you don’t have ties here.”

  “I have you.”

  So there, I said it. It came out with no regret. Until she was quiet too long. Did I fuck up?

  “Moses,” she said it like a warning.

  “I don’t mean it in a…relationship way. We’re friends so…” nope I meant it just the way it sounded. I meant I have her and I don’t need or want her cousin.

  She came back down the line quieter, “I just wanted you to know you could…if you wanted to. Date my cousin.”

  “Do you want me to date your cousin?” I’m aggravated to think she might.

  “Yea, I mean, no, not like…I want you to but do you want to?”

  This is getting confusing. “I have to get to class.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye,” I hung up before she could say anything. Is she throwing Zivah at me or is she testing me? We’re friends, so we promised to communicate. I don’t feel like being tested or tried like a typical boyfriend and it’s annoying.

  I’d just gotten dressed for class when my phone buzzed.

  It was Chloe saying,

  “I was only trying to say you can date her if you want.”

  I came back,

  “No, you’re pushing her on me.”

  She typed fast,

  “I’m not. You said she’s pretty.”

  I breathed hotly through my nose because now this is really pissing me off and wrote,

  “I feel like you’re interrogating me like a girlfriend.”

  She took forever to reply,

  “I’m not your girlfriend and you can do what you want, that’s why I brought it up. We’re just fucking, I would’ve asked even if we weren’t. You’re my friend. I’ve always let you know if someone thinks you’re cute.”

  Every word is successfully ticking me the fuck off. I responded,

  “You don’t have to throw around the word ‘friend’ like a shield. I get that you don’t think about me that way, so you don’t have to prove it by waving hot girls in my face then testing me for a reaction.”

  I tossed my phone into the locker and took off my shoes. Women, and their triple meaning bullshit. They contradict themselves constantly and expect the rest of us to keep up.

  My phone went off and I checked even though I didn’t want to. She wrote,

  “Why are you acting upset about something so small? This is exactly what I was afraid of. This is the sort of fight that makes this sex thing complicated. Maybe we should st
op.”

  GRRRRRRRR Oh my fucking God this woman! She just took it to this level of ‘makes no sense!’ I pressed the letter keys of my touch phone like they needed individual punches and said,

  “I’m angry because this stupid conversation is making me late for class and the Chloe I know wouldn’t exaggerate this into an enormous nothing fight. I also am pretty sure you only told me to gauge a reaction and I don’t feel like being dissected by an over thinking female.”

  I tossed it back in my locker and slammed the door shut a good three times because the fucking gym bag wouldn’t go in.

  Chris walked in to get dressed and I didn’t see until I turned around. He had a really annoying smile on his face, “Remember when you asked me how you know if they’re the one?” he asked as he stripped his shirt to shower. More annoying grinning. “when they bring you to that right there. The door slamming. You know they’re the one when you want to chew your phone into bullets.”

  I came to class with the worst energy ever and I think my students felt it. Especially since they’d been waiting on me for five minutes. But to make this night awesome the gods sprinkled extra ‘fuck you’ on it by not allowing my car to start.

  After walking a good half hour I cooled considerably but I was still annoyed with her. If she thinks taking sex off the table is like a punishment she’s wrong. I lived without it before and I can do it again.

  I don’t particularly want to. I haven’t had sex this good…in like…

  Okay forever, but she doesn’t know that so ha!

  I got to her studio and my body hurt not from the walk but from holding myself tensely. When I got there most the lights in the other classrooms were off like usual but from the long hall I could see hers were on like I expected. Music was blaring down that way and it was high energy electric. Very fast tempo and amped. Baby Baby by Tropkillaz.

  She must be in a mood.

  When I peeked in the open doors I was seeing double though, because she wasn’t alone. Their backs were to me but she had a tall auburn beauty with her and they were in perfect time doing sexual but very artistic calligraphy to the music. When they hit the pole I saw it was Jenzy and my brows went up.