by Clark, Kaisa
When the intensity breaks free he kisses the tip of my nose and murmurs, “Happy birthday.” I watch him rise from the bed and begin to pull his clothes on. When he’s ready I walk him to the door. He draws me into him one last time, furiously kissing my cheeks, my forehead, my lips. He holds both my hands in his, looping his fingers through mine. Finally he looks me deep in the eyes and says with a smile, “Thanks for having me, Alexa. It was okay…” He winks then pulls the door shut behind him.
And just like that, he’s gone.
I rush to make it to my parents’ house for dinner. They pretend not notice the late arrival and the flush in my cheeks and the buoyant shift in my usually even demeanor. We talk about school and work and how my aquarium is holding up. The one thing we don’t talk about is Adam. I don’t know how to tell them I’ve fallen, I’ve soared, I’ve become completely enamored with a boy. After filling my arms with gifts and hugs, they send me to meet up with Annabelle and the others.
I bound up to her outside the bar, my entire body singing with happiness. “He came!” I shriek. “He came, he came, he came!”
“What?” she squeals with delight, obviously pleased to see me so chipper.
“Adam. He came.”
“Well of course he did.” She grins naughtily and I smack her in the stomach with my clutch.
“So where is he?” She looks over each of my shoulders excitedly.
I frown. “He had to drive back. But he came last night, just showed up at my door.” I lean my head against her shoulder, breathless. “It was absolutely perfect, Annabelle. It was like he never even left.”
She laughs. “I’m glad it really has been a happy birthday!”
I pull into my apartment complex after our night out to a nag of melancholy. I know how empty my apartment will feel once I set foot inside. When he’s here, it truly feels like home. Without him it just feels like something’s missing. Like a part of me is missing. I wish I could sit outside forever rather than face my room without him in it.
I’m slowly trudging up the steps, tucking away the dread I feel, when I notice something stuck to my front door. When I get closer I realize it’s a card, with the letters AC printed on the envelope in that familiar vertical scrawl. Breathless, I peel the tape off the door and tear the envelope open, not even bothering to go inside.
The front of the card has a picture of two grizzly bears luxuriating beneath a ray of sunlight. Their necks are crossed so that one is laying over the other. They are entwined, cuddling, looking completely at peace. Inside, the card is blank, but he’s written a note in that same handwriting I’ve come to love so much.
Everything is so much brighter when I’m with you. Happy Birthday my bear!!!
-Adam
Tears spring into my eyes and cascade over my cheeks. The card wrecks me in so many ways. It’s thoughtful and honest and completely unexpected. My chest already feels so empty and raw with him gone, and yet I can’t imagine any way my birthday could’ve been better.
Chapter 17
I don't know how it’s possible to miss him more, but I do. I had thought, foolishly, that him visiting me would tide me over. Instead it brought me back. It made me remember the million reasons why I don't ever want to be without Adam in my life.
I drag myself to class on speech day, dreading every second of the day. I can tell Marcus is nervous the minute he walks through the door. He doesn't even say hi, just collapses into his chair, his bag spilling onto the floor beside him.
I nudge his arm with the end of my pen. “It's going to be fine. You'll be great.”
He frowns in my general direction and continues in his stupor. When the professor asks for volunteers I glance at him and he meets my eye.
“Might as well get it over with,” he whispers, although the tone of his voice suggests he would rather pull his own toenails off with pliers than go up to give our speech.
We make our way to the front and I step to the podium on shaky legs. Marcus stands behind me and off to the side a little ways. He clutches his notecards and tries to act casual as he scans the room. My heart is pounding in my ears but I force a smile, take a deep breath, and begin. I’m grateful I have the notecards, not only to guide the speech, but also to have something to hold. It helps quell my nerves and still my nervous fingers. I force myself to glance up as I speak into the microphone, enough to earn points for eye contact without focusing on individual faces in the crowd. Thankfully, the color-coding from my collection of pens helps me emphasize all the points I wanted to make. It’s not a perfect speech but it’s certainly not terrible.
When I reach the halfway point I step aside and let Marcus take over, grateful to be done. He clears his throat and begins in a steady voice. If I didn’t already know he was nervous I don't think I'd be able to tell at all, his voice never waivers, his hands never fidget or betray him. When we get back to our desks, I scrawl him a note in my notebook.
You were AMAZING!!!
He grins when he sees my note, a rare full smile, then writes a note of his own.
That was all you. Way to set the stage!
I relax smugly into my seat, suddenly feeling a lot more confident about my grade in public speaking.
Friday after class Marcus looks over at me as he's tucking his laptop into his bag.
“Plans this weekend?”
“Not much. Work and studying.” And missing Adam. I’m going to spend a lot of time missing Adam. “I’m pretty lame.”
“Well I'm working tonight and tomorrow so if you get bored you should stop by The Berg downtown. Drinks are on me.”
“You don't have to do that.”
He stands to leave, shouldering his bag. “Consider it payback for getting me through that speech.”
“That was all you!” I laugh.
“You set the bar high. I didn't want to be the one to mess it up,” he says over his shoulder as he walks out the door.
After work I nonchalantly tell Annabelle about Marcus’s offer. I know it’d do me good to get out of the house, to get me away from my empty bedroom and all the raw memories it holds. I have no doubt she’ll be up for it. A night out means the prospect of meeting new guys, which Annabelle will never turn down. This could be the night she meets The One.
When we reach The Berg I spot Marcus at the bar. We slide into two vacant barstools in front of him.
“Hey, Alexa! What can I get you?” he calls out over the noise. He looks more relaxed here than he does in class. He’s wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans and he slightly bobs along to the music as he mixes drinks behind the bar.
When he turns to make our drinks Annabelle yells in my ear. ”You forgot to mention that he's hot.”
“Whoops!” I grin. “Go nuts.”
“Of course you don’t care,” she laughs. “You’ve got Lover Boy steaming up your weekends.”
I shrug, still uncertain what his visit last weekend even meant. His showing up at my door unintentionally filled my head with hope for some sort of future. But I haven’t heard from him this week. My phone hasn’t rung. I can’t even be disappointed, really. He’s never once fed me promises about a future, never once suggested we’d try to make this thing between us work despite the distance.
Annabelle must see the hesitation etched on my face because she asks, “You still have doubts?”
I nod slowly, searching for the right words to express the uncertainty that always seems to shroud us.
“It was like he never left, in every single way. We were perfectly in sync and as usual, didn’t talk about us at all.”
“Alexa, he drove down to see you. Doesn’t that say everything you need to know?”
Her words make me hopeful. Her words make me believe maybe his visit was his way of saying he wants to try.
After a few cocktails we head out, making sure to tip Marcus extra well since our drinks were free all night. I don't mean to, really, but as soon as I'm alone my thoughts drift to Adam. I long to hear the familiar cadence
of his voice, for the hearty roll of his laughter in my ear. Feeling bold from the alcohol and Annabelle’s pep talk, I dial those familiar numbers.
“Yeah?” he shouts over the noise of a bar. His voice is tight, lacking its usual luster.
I’m suddenly filled with second thoughts about calling him. Everything about his tone feels wrong. I contemplate hanging up, pretending I accidentally dialed him, but I squeak out a hushed hello instead.
“Are you okay?” he asks brusquely.
“I’m fine, Adam,” I mumble.
“I’ll call you back then.”
The line falls dead.
I stare at the phone in my hand, shocked by his brevity, caught off-guard by his callous tone. The letdown swells within me, cold and gripping, replacing all the hope I’d felt that we might try to make this work. I know now I got ahead of myself. I resolve not to let it happen again.
It’s the dead of night when my phone rings. I roll over in bed to check the screen, the illumination revealing Adam’s name. I mumble a hello, still disoriented from sleep, startled that he’s actually calling me back. I’d assumed he was just brushing me off.
“Bear?” he asks tentatively. His voice is hushed, the background completely silent. Whatever commotion he was amidst earlier has completely dissipated.
“Yeah?”
He sighs deeply and it sounds so weighted. So tense.
“Are you okay?” I ask, hating that he sounds this way. Hating that I care after how cold he was before.
He’s silent for so long I have to check the screen to be sure he didn’t hang up. But then I hear it. His voice is hollow and barely audible, but it’s there. Three words.
“I miss you.”
It somehow sounds sad and honest and delicate all at once. I love the words and yet I despise them. I despise that he sounds so broken, like this thing is sucking the life out of him.
“Adam?” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
I take a chance. I close my eyes and exhale the words. “I miss you too.”
Chapter 18
Somehow three weeks have passed since Adam’s birthday visit and I settle into his absence. I grow accustomed to the hollow feeling in my chest, to the emptiness that washes over me every time I walk into my bedroom. Most days are excruciating, the fresh ache of missing him throbbing deep in my bones. It starts with a small twinge, a slight realization that having him here would make whatever it is I’m doing that much better. The more I focus in on it, the more it shifts, changing from a dull pang to a persistent gnaw, until it consumes me and all I can think about is how much I want him here with me.
Missing him is made all the worse by the dramatic shifts in his behavior. No matter how hard I try, I can’t read him. I can’t decipher the code in his actions. We feel so out of sorts when we’re apart. The balance of our relationship seems to require us to be within arm’s reach. It makes the distance feel insurmountable. It makes being together seem like an impossible dream.
I try to distract myself from the perpetual loneliness, the perpetual longing, by staying busy. In public speaking, our professor assigns our next speech. This time we’re crafting an argument about why our company’s products are superior to their competitors. While I’m not looking forward to the actual delivery, having an additional assignment helps pass the time and keep my thoughts somewhat preoccupied from the question that is always looming in my mind: will I see him again?
Marcus and I meet at Java House often to discuss the assignment. This speech has to be longer than the first so we’ve had to get together more times to get everything organized. We’re starting to get very well acquainted with one another; he even knows my coffee preferences. When I arrive for our scheduled meeting, he’s already ordered me a latte and a cupcake. I slide in across from him and smile at the intent look on his face as he sorts through the papers spread over the table.
“Someone’s hard at work,” I joke.
His lips barely shift into the hint of a smile. His concentration never wavers. For an instant my mind flashes to Adam, to his carefree grin, to his playful demeanor. He would’ve found a way to turn this into a joke, his dark eyes lingering on mine as he watched me laugh. I feel a sharp stab in my chest at the image of him. I can still see him so clearly in my mind.
Oh, Adam.
I haven’t heard from him since his middle of the night admission. Part of me wonders if it was nothing more than a drunken slip. Maybe he doesn’t even remember that he called. Everything about his silence stings. It makes me wonder if we ever even stood a chance. Despite my yearning to talk to him, I know better than to try to call. I learned my lesson last time. I can’t stand to hear the curt tone, the terse responses. Not when we can be so much more.
“How can I help?” I ask, trying to push Adam aside when I clearly need to focus on school.
“I think we’ve researched all the competitors pretty well. Let’s get started summarizing the differences between the companies so we can determine where there are benefits.”
I grab one of the stapled sets of papers and get to work on my summary. When I reach a section I’m confused by, the detailed business infrastructure of one of the other fast food chains, I tilt the page towards Marcus.
“Hey, does this make sense to you?”
He moves around to my side of the booth to take a closer look. When his hand brushes against my leg I immediately take notice, but it isn’t fireworks, it isn’t magic, it isn’t Adam. I scoot away, reaching for a pen I don’t need, sliding him the printout to look over.
“I don’t think we’ll use it,” he says after a beat, handing it back to me. I expect him to return to his side of the booth but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls his mug and laptop over and continues working next to me. I wonder how many nights Adam has spent in a booth with another girl, studying or talking or sipping coffee. The thought wrenches my gut. I force my thoughts back to our speech, trying desperately not to picture him in my position.
I work through sheet after sheet, circling key points with my colored pens. As I go, I develop a color-coding scheme to indicate the types of information I’ve found. Marcus catches sight of my approach, bringing a rare smile to his usually serious face.
“What? It’s a great strategy!” I laugh, pleased he’s relaxing for once. Our study sessions are usually so serious.
“I’m not denying that, but you just circled a telephone number there’s no way you’re going to call, so I’m starting to think you’re doing it for fun.”
I let out a breath and set my pen down, stretching my neck from side to side.
“You caught me.”
He smiles, his light eyes lingering on my face before he starts stacking the papers strewn across the tabletop. “I’m beat too. Let’s call it a night. Same time tomorrow?”
I pack my things slowly, intentionally taking my time so we don’t have to walk out together. I don’t want him to hold the door for me. I don’t want him to stand waiting at my side while I open my car door. I don’t want to hear him tell me goodnight. There’s only one person I want that from and he’s still too far away.
I meet up with Annabelle and Carly for girl’s night that weekend. Annabelle lets me borrow one of her form-fitting cocktail dresses then we head to Indigo Lounge because it’s the best place for dancing. We each order a Sex on the Beach then Annabelle leads the way to the dance floor. She’s an incredible dancer, fierce and sexy. She kicks her leg up around me then writhes down to the floor, shaking her butt the whole way down. I rotate around her, shimmying and bobbing to the music.
The dance floor is crowded and as we dance a group of handsome strangers appears before us. Annabelle’s moves have obviously lured them over. I dance up on my guy, shaking to the left and right, moving my hips back and forth. He grips my back and pulls me closer to him, and I let him because I’m thinking if I close my eyes I can pretend he’s Adam.
Unfortunately handsome stranger is a poor substitute. Sure he gyrates to the beat, but
his motions are clunky, none of the fluid movements of my boxer. And sure his eyes rove over me, undressing me as they move from head to toe, but there’s not the fierce passion I see reflected in Adam’s eyes. He doesn’t bite his lip seductively, doesn’t smell as intoxicating as he works up a sweat. I finally give up and retreat to the bar, missing Adam all the more.
Annabelle catches up to me and leans into my side. “What’s going on?” she asks gently.
I make my face bright, not wanting to dampen our night out. “Just needed a breather.”
“You’re lying,” she says resolutely, bringing her hands to her hips. “You’re a mess. I’ve never seen you so down.”
My face falls and I glance down at the bar. She knows. Of course she does.
“Any word from lover boy?”
I shake my head, feeling that gripping sadness in my chest, whirling and thick. I bite my lip, fighting back an onslaught of tears. Wow, Clausen, get a grip!
I’m not even me anymore.
Annabelle studies my face. “You two are ridiculous. I don’t know how you can both be so obviously in love yet so terrified to actually show it. If I were in your shoes…” she trails off and signals the bartender. “Well let’s just say I wish I had your problem.”
The night before our speech Marcus and I end up staying at Java House all evening, practicing with our notecards. Late into the night I’m still going strong, probably due to all the caffeine and sugar I’ve consumed on an otherwise empty stomach. Marcus is insistent we have the speech memorized forwards and backwards, but I’m intent on practicing. Better to be here than in my apartment alone, haunted by the empty bed and silent phone.