by Kahlen Aymes
I cleared my throat, the memory of it all feeling fresh and new. The last thing I needed was to relive it.
Ellie finished drying her hair, and I took my turn in front of the mirror to dry mine, pull it back, and put on a little make-up. I stared at my reflection, mentally comparing my green eyes, pale complexion, and dark hair to the imaginary beauty I’d conjured in my head. What if he got serious about some girl and we couldn’t hang out any more? I didn’t want to think about it.
“When do you leave for Kansas City, Julia?”
“Wednesday morning. I’m sort of looking forward to it.” I wanted some perspective, and I hoped distance away from Ryan was the one, sure way to get it. I sat down on the bed and pulled on some thick socks.
Ellie was sitting on her own bed, which was across from mine. Both of them were twin beds in the small dorm room. She grabbed one of her textbooks from the shelf over her desk and opened it. “Aren’t you going to call Ryan back?”
I shrugged. I should. I had no right to feel indignant about his date, but I still felt fragile and I didn’t know how to handle it. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of hiding my feelings from him. “Probably. I want to go over my paper once more before I email it to my professor. I think I’ll take my laptop to the library.”
The truth was, I had a lot left to do on it. The night before I’d felt too crappy to concentrate and self-medicated the whole evening away, taking a hot shower, then spending the rest of the night drawing a portrait of Ryan. It was the first I’d done of him, and I spent hours on it, wanting to get every nuance of his face perfect. Somehow, it helped ease the ache because in drawing him, he was with me.
“Okay.” I could sense she had questions, but she didn’t press me.
I was in serious danger of getting my heart crushed. I’d known it for weeks, but it didn’t stop me from spending time with him. If I were honest, my time with Ryan was the best part of my day.
I threw a heavy sweater on over my T-shirt, my leftover melancholy not diminishing by Ryan’s attempt to get in touch with me. In the process of packing my computer and notes into my backpack, my phone jingled. I knew who it was before I picked it up and rather than being thrilled, I was apprehensive. Still, I read his text.
Jules, are you around? I called. Did Ellie tell you?
I quickly typed out an answer before sliding my arms into my coat and grabbing my backpack.
Yes. I’m on my way to the library to finish my paper.
His response was immediate.
Oh. I hoped you were done so we could hang out today.
My heart swelled with relief. Whatever happened on that date, it wasn’t enough to preoccupy Ryan today.
I’d like to, but I should study at least a couple of hours.
Can you meet me for coffee later? Maybe 3 or 4?
4 will be better. The Student Union?
Cool. If you’re finished by then, maybe we can hit the movie tonight?
Yes. :)
Great. See you then.
Suddenly, everything was right with my world.
Chapter 3
Christmas in Chicago
RYAN~
I was bored shitless; lying on the floor of my room at my parents’ house with my lower legs flung on top of the bed. I didn’t know what to fucking do with myself. I’d been home two days, and I was going stir crazy.
I tossed the baseball against the wall opposite me. My dad caught it from a pop fly on opening day two years before when Aramis Ramirez was at bat. I threw it again, remembering how pissed Aaron had been that I’d won the coin toss and, in turn, this ball. In retrospect, I realized I probably could have just let him have it. I rolled it around in my hand, admiring the smooth, almost-new leather before I resumed the mindless activity. Thump, thump, thump… The noise and the motion of it providing the white noise I needed.
At the last minute, Aaron had decided to stay behind at college with Jenna. We’d both come home for Thanksgiving, but he refused to spend two weeks away from his girlfriend. I would have joined him, but my mother would have been completely crushed having both of us bail on Christmas at home.
Now I was stuck in this rotten cold weather without a damn thing to do. My dad was called in for emergency surgery, so he wasn’t even in the house. Thump, thump, thump… I threw it harder in my frustration.
The door to my room burst open, and my mother stuck her head in. “Ryan! What is all that banging? What are you doing in here?”
I flushed guiltily. “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled, holding up the ball in explanation.
Her features softened. She was always so elegant, dressed to perfection, her shoulder-length hair, the same color as mine, was never out of place, even at home. We were a study in opposites, now, however, as I laid around like a slob in baggy gray sweatpants, white crew socks and an old Nine Inch Nails T-shirt. I scratched my head then my stomach. I definitely needed a shower.
“I know you’re bored, honey. Can you call some of your high school friends?”
I sat up and shrugged. “Maybe.” I’d only been at school a few months, but now, the thought of my old friends didn’t excite me. Earlier, I’d thought about trying to get together a game of ice hockey at the local rink but reconsidered. No doubt, the ice time would be monopolized by local league tournaments over the holidays.
“I’m going downtown shopping later. Do you want to come?”
“Maybe,” I mumbled again, my lack of enthusiasm tangible. I hated shopping. Period. Especially shopping downtown. I hated the traffic; I hated the slushy streets, I hated hauling bags and sweating in stores because I was wearing a coat. I stood up and went to my desk to fire-up the laptop. “I guess I do need to buy a few presents. I’m not good at buying stuff for girls and I need to get Julia something. I could use your help.”
Mom came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. My room was pretty much unchanged from the day I left for Stanford. My high school football and basketball jerseys were stuck to the walls with pushpins among posters of Milla Jovovich and Megan Fox, sports trophies, concert tickets and a bunch of pictures.
“What does she like?”
“Everything. She’s cool.” I could get her a couple of tickets to the San Francisco 49ers or the Oakland A’s and she’d be happy with it. Jules was unassuming and easy going.
“Is she the tomboy-type?”
I huffed in amusement as I looked through my email. “Hardly. Why would you assume that?”
“I don’t know. She hangs out with my son but she’s not his girlfriend? That’s my first clue. You never spend any time with girls you aren’t dating, that I recall.”
Something inside me stopped. “Yeah, well, Jules is different. She has a brain, and we can talk about stuff. We relate on many levels. She’s just cool,” I said again, searching for the right words to describe Julia without making it sound like I had a crush on her.
“Ryan! Are you insinuating that most women are mindless?” Her eyebrow shot up in disapproval.
“No, it’s just…” I paused, searching for the right words. “Julia doesn’t yap on and on about clothes and make-up and meaningless crap. She isn’t always batting her eyelashes and acting dumb.”
“Ryan.” My mother cautioned. “Girls bat their eyelashes? Nice exaggeration.”
“Come on, Mom!” I lamented. “You know what I mean. She’s the first girl who I’ve ever respected like that.” She shot me another reprimanding look. “Besides you, I mean.” I flashed a full-on grin, and she smiled in return.
“Girls like bath oil, shower gel, and lotions. You could get her a gift basket or gift card.”
“Ugh! Seriously? That shit’s lame. It’s what you get your kindergarten teacher or old Aunt Hester. Besides, I heard Jenna dissing another guy who gave some girl one of those things for her birthday. There isn’t thought in something like that. It’s too generic.”
Mom chuckled. “If you like Julia that much, why aren’t you dating her?”
I stopped playing wit
h my computer as I contemplated the question. I half-assed shrugged and shook my head. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t asked myself the same question. “We’re good friends. It might get weird if we dated.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Yeah,” I answered without thinking. “Super hot. Aaron thinks my dick’s broken.”
“Ryan!”
Shit! Did I just say that to my mom? I flushed guiltily then grinned. “What?” I asked incredulously. “He’s the one who said it, not me!”
My mother rolled her eyes and smiled despite her motherly chagrin. “I’ll have to have a talk with your brother. So, she is pretty.”
“She’s, er… amazing.”
“Amazing, huh?”
“Yeah, but amazing goes way beyond looks. She’s smart and funny. She’s fun to hang out with.”
“Do you think if you spend so much time together, you should get her something a little personal for Christmas?”
“Probably, but I don’t know what.”
My computer dinged and an IM came up from Julia. I looked guiltily at my mom, hoping she’d take the hint and exit my room.
“Okay, we’ll figure it out. After I’m done putting a roast in the crock pot, I’ll have a few hours, and we can go out.”
“Sure.” My computer dinged again and still I waited until my mother left.
Ryan? You there?
Yes. Bored as hell. You?
Same. My dad is working on some big murder case, and he’s never here. This house feels like a tomb when it’s empty. I wish I’d stayed at Stanford.
Funny, I had the same idea.
How’s the weather, there? :-/
It was obvious she knew it was like an iceberg. California might be cool, but Chicago was colder than hell.
Frigid, I typed back.
I don’t want to hear about your last one-nighter. LOL
I laughed out loud at her teasing remark.
Ha ha. Shut up. It’s nice here. Wanna come over? :)
I wish I could! I typed furiously on the remote keyboard, wishing I could hop an early plane back to California. My mom would kill me, though. She has this big shindig planned for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
My dad’s living at his office. I’ve seen him for 2 hours in the 2 days I’ve been here, so it looks like it’s turkey burger-ville and rented movies for Christmas.
You know there are all kinds of bird parts in that nasty shit! Beaks, skin…. Gross! Can you get on Skype? I hated the thought of her all alone on Christmas and I wanted to see her face.
Yeah. Give me a minute.
I sat, impatiently tapping my foot, my knee bouncing obnoxiously, as I waited for Julia to log on. I knew I looked like hell, but she wouldn’t care. I ran my hand through my hair and shoved my Cubs hat on my head, pushing the hair around the edge beneath it.
It wasn’t long before her call came in, and I opened the window. She wore a dark pink hoodie with a Nike swoosh in navy blue across the front, and her hair was down and flow-y. She didn’t have on make-up, but she still looked beautiful in a natural, unpretentious sort of way.
“Hey,” she said. “I thought I was gonna get a break from your unbearable presence for a couple of weeks, Matthews.”
I grinned and leaned back in my chair. “You know you miss me, but I won’t make you say it.” Julia looked at me through the computer, her brows furrowed and mouth pursed. I could tell she was doing her best not to smile.
“Whatever. As if you could. I can see your ego hasn’t taken a hiatus,” she deadpanned.
I burst out laughing at her joke. It was just like her to goad me. “It’s gonna snow tomorrow so the lake effect will probably have me stranded in the house. Yay.”
“It’s pretty cool here, but I don’t think we’ll get snow.”
“So, will your dad be around at all on Christmas?”
“One of his partners has this big to-do on Christmas Eve and he wants me to go with him. It’s a bunch of stuffed shirts, so I don’t think I’m going.”
I shifted in my chair, not loving how uncomfortable I felt at the thought of her canoodling at a party without me. I knew only too well what happened in situations like that.
“Why? Is there some hot law student he wants you to meet?”
“I’m not interested in law students. They’re almost as unbearable as doctor wannabes.” She smiled big at me through the screen.
I laughed at her teasing. “That’s what I hear. You could always come here,” I suggested sheepishly, deep down hoping to hell she’d agree and hop on the first flight out. I never got nervous with girls, and this was my closest friend, so it was annoying that I felt nervous asking.
“To Chicago?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I said again. “But you gotta get here before the storm hits, so we can be snowed in together.”
Julia inhaled and shook her head slightly. “You’re serious.”
“Yes!” I quickly opened Expedia.com and began looking for flights. “The best deal will probably be out of San Francisco International.”
“Ryan, slow down. I have to speak to my dad, and don’t you have to ask your parents if it’s okay?”
“Nah. Aaron’s room is open.” I probably should ask them, but I’d rather beg forgiveness than ask permission if it meant Julia would be here in a few hours’ time.
“Ew. Really, you want me to sleep in Aaron’s room? Dude, that’s weird. It probably smells like a sweaty jock.”
A smile split across my face as I kept up my flight search. “We have two other rooms, but one is my dad’s study, and Mom is remodeling the other, so you can have my room, if you’d rather.” I winced a little, thinking Julia would find my room juvenile. For sure she’d make fun of the girly posters.
“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”
“Julia! Shut up and call your old man, will ya? I’m booking the ticket right now.” I found a ticket out that afternoon and then yanked out the printout of my own return itinerary, and booked another seat on the same flight. Her seat wouldn’t be next to mine, but I’d deal with that later.
“Ryan, wait! I can’t afford this, and I don’t want to ask my dad.”
“I said: I’m booking the ticket. Consider it my Christmas gift to you. I’ve been struggling with what to get you anyway, so this is perfect!” My blood was racing with excitement and anticipation. Suddenly, the break didn’t seem so mundane after all.
I ran across the room to the jeans lying in a pile of dirty clothes and began to rummage through the pockets for my wallet and debit card.
“Ryan, will you wait?” Julia shouted over the computer.
I bit my lip over a smile as I sat back down at the computer and began to type in the card information. “Better hurry, your flight leaves in three hours.”
“You’re impossible! I should let you lose your money and stew in your own juice!” She was moving around her room and I could hear a big thump from what was surely her closet. “Ouch!”
“What happened?”
“My hiking boots just fell off a shelf and hit me in the head! I don’t know what to bring? Do you get dressed up on Christmas? I don’t have gifts for your parents! I’ll feel like an idiot.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours. The flight is direct, United 1489 to O’Hare. I’ll be waiting just beyond the gates.”
“You’re crazy!”
“This will be great!” I was so excited I could hardly sit still. She said something else while she rummaged through her closet, but I couldn’t catch it.
“Just stop your mumbling and get your little ass on that plane.” At the sound of Julia’s tinkling laughter, I raced out of my room and down the stairs to inform my mother that my best friend would be with us for the remainder of Christmas break.
~Julia
The jet bridge was filled with the sounds of people talking, laughing and the grating whiz of the wheels of the many carry-on cases being carted up to the termin
al. Butterflies filled my stomach.
I had to admit when Ryan suggested I fly to Chicago for Christmas, I was thrilled and filled with excited anticipation. I’d never seen Chicago in the winter, but it was the fact Ryan insisted I come, that was responsible for the nervous adrenaline pumping through my veins. This was Ryan, my best friend. My gorgeous best friend, true, but still, he was like my other half, the calm in my storm, the cream in my coffee. I told myself it was the prospect of meeting his parents that had my stomach all tied up in knots.
I’d shoved a few changes of clothes and the bare necessities into a carry-on and grabbed a cab to the airport. The fare was fifty dollars, and I charged it on the credit card my dad had given me for emergencies when I started college. I inwardly shrugged.
This was an emergency. I was dying of boredom at my dad’s and seriously missing the easy camaraderie that Ryan and I shared. It was really the first time we’d been separated since we’d met, beyond a long weekend, and I’d been seriously unprepared for how much I’d miss him. I looked down at my Nike-clad feet and my stomach dropped. I hadn’t had time to shower or change and still wore the tattered jeans and hoodie I’d thrown on that morning. The purple coat that was shoved under my left arm was the first one I could grab as I’d rushed from my father’s house. The first impression with Ryan’s family certainly would not be what I wanted. The butterflies did somersaults in my stomach again, and I swallowed hard, wishing I had a soda or bottle of water with me. There were plenty of places to stop and pick one up, but my anxiousness to get to Ryan overshadowed the need. My iPhone blipped in the front pocket of my sweatshirt, and my hand plunged in to retrieve it, a smile already plastered on my face. Typical impatience from Ryan, only this time, I mirrored the feeling.