Love Bites

by Rachel K. Burke

  My thoughts exactly, I thought.

  “Remember how you told me last night that I was stupid to cry over Vincent, because I could have anyone I wanted?” I asked him. “Well, the same thing goes for you. You’re…”

  Oh, no. Here it comes.

  “You’re perfect,” I blurted out. “And I love Renee to death, but if she doesn’t see that, then she’s crazy.”

  “Perfect, huh?” He placed both of his hands over his heart. “Well, I think I was wrong about you, Justine. You actually are a good liar.”

  “I’m serious! That’s exactly what I thought when she told me she was thinking of br…”

  I clasped both hands over my mouth.

  Shiiiiit.

  Renee was going to kill me.

  “I knew it!” David yelled. To my surprise, he was grinning. He didn’t exactly seem to be taking the news to heart. “It’s okay. I won’t say anything. I knew it anyway.”

  “Sorry. I guess that was the…” I looked around for something to blame my big mouth on. Soda talking.”

  David raised his eyebrows, then reached over and poured the remains of the Coke bottle into my glass. “Well if that’s the soda talking, then what are we going to do when we run out?”

  Chapter 8

  Walter Keller was exactly what you visualized when you imagined the perfect man. Handsome with a boy-next-door wholesomeness. Polite with sincerity. Successful without the slightest trace of arrogance. The movie character you never actually met in real life.

  I mean, let’s face it. In reality, Richard Gere doesn’t marry the prostitute. He gets his $200-dollar blowjob and goes home. No one actually meets a real-life Richard Gere.

  Walter and I had been cruising the south shore all afternoon looking at apartments, but my focus had been more on him than my future place of abode. Despite his perfections, I couldn’t dig up one ounce of attraction to him. It was like David had taken up permanent residency in my heart, and everyone else paled in comparison.

  Would I ever feel that way again?

  “The cabinets need to be replaced,” Walter said, gesturing around the kitchen of another apartment. It was the third one we’d looked at so far, and fortunately Renee had been right. The thought of a new apartment was exciting. A new home, a fresh start – it was exactly what I needed.

  “The bathroom was just renovated,” Walter continued, leading me to a bathroom with glass shower doors and beige rock tile.

  “This is nice,” I said, looking around. You could tell everything was new, even the sink. I imagined myself soaping up in the gorgeous shower.

  “Yeah, once they finish painting the living room and replace the kitchen cabinets, it should be good to go.” Walter led me back to the living room, which had an open kitchen and hardwood floors, another selling point. “So, what do you think so far?”

  “This one is my favorite,” I said, which was true. The others were okay, just a little smaller and more outdated. “But like I mentioned, I don’t have a full-time job yet.”

  “That’s okay,” he assured me. “The place still needs some work, so it won’t be ready for a while. And we have some other units opening up in the building that are identical to this one.”

  I followed Walter out the front door, but before we reached his car, he turned around to face me. “You know, there’s a great café right around the corner. Do you want to grab some lunch before we head back to the office?”

  I considered. “Sure,” I agreed. “That sounds great.”

  The Seasons Café was a little hole in the wall that reminded me of my grandmother’s kitchen. The walls were painted bright yellow, and each table and chair set were mismatched, like they’d been randomly selected from yard sales and antique stores. I went over each menu item a dozen times before settling on fruit salad. I wasn’t all that hungry, but I didn’t want Walter to eat alone.

  “So,” Walter said, sitting down across from me. “You’re one of those girls, huh?”

  I shot him a confused look.

  He pointed to my plate. “This place has the best food around and all you’re going to have is fruit?”

  “I happen to like fruit,” I said in a jokingly defensive tone.

  Walter laughed. He looked like a little kid when he smiled, innocent with a trace of mischief. “Ah, yes. You California natives are known to be pretty health-conscious, right?”

  I stuck my fork into a strawberry. “Well, I wouldn’t call myself a native. I only went to college there.”

  I paused, wondering if now was the right time to ask him about what had happened at the office. He’d been so professional all day, it had seemed kind of inappropriate to stray from the subject of housing. But lunch seemed more fitting for casual conversation.

  “So, how do you know Renee?” I asked him.

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  I shook my head. “Your name sounds familiar, but I can’t remember why.”

  He hesitated for a moment, taking a bite of his sandwich. I couldn’t tell if it was chicken or tuna salad, but it looked good. I was beginning to regret my fruit decision.

  “I met Renee in New York,” he answered. “Dylan’s band was playing at the same benefit concert that my brother’s band was playing.”

  “Your brother is in a band?” I looked at him skeptically. He seemed so proper and well-rounded, with his gray suit and chivalrous manners. I imagined him to come from a preppy, white-collar kind of family.

  “Yeah, he’s definitely not a typical Keller,” he joked. “The rest of us don’t have a musical bone in our bodies, but he loves it. He was top of his class at Berklee.” He shook his head, like he was digressing. “Anyway, after the show, Renee and Dylan got into an argument, so she and I went to grab something to eat.”

  Now I remembered. Renee had told me all about that night, and about Walter. That was the night that she and Dylan finally admitted they had feelings for each other. And Walter was indirectly the cause, because Dylan was jealous and pissed off that Renee left the show with him, which had forced him to tell her how he really felt.

  “To be honest,” he continued. “I really liked her and wanted to keep in touch, but I knew there was something going on between them. I didn’t want to interfere.”

  Of course. Yet another perfect guy that Renee could’ve had. I loved her, I really did, but sometimes I couldn’t help but feel like life had handed her a better deal.

  Sensing my distraction, Walter waved his hand in front of my face. “Something I said?” he asked.

  “No. I just remembered that Renee had told me that story a while ago.” I forced a smile. “She always finds the good ones.”

  Walter cocked his head to the side. “Why do you say that?”

  I shrugged. “She just always seems to meet a lot of great guys. I don’t have much luck in that department.”

  “You know, I used to feel the same way,” he said. “When I met Renee, I had all but given up on dating. I was the stereotypical ‘nice guy’ and girls always left me for… well, honestly, for guys like Dylan.”

  Walter and I broke into laughter, because we both knew it was true. Women rarely fell for the nice guys. I was guiltier of it than anyone.

  “Luckily, shortly after I met Renee, I met my girlfriend,” Walter continued. “It was great because I felt like I’d finally found someone who appreciated me for who I was. A lot of women like the bad-boy types, but that’s just not who I am.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “I left LA because my ex-boyfriend broke up with me,” I confessed. “And what you just described… about not finding anyone who appreciates you… that’s exactly how I feel.” I shut my eyes tight. “And the reason I haven’t found an apartment or a full-time position, is because I haven’t been looking. I guess I was hoping that eventually he’d call me and want me to move back. I thought that maybe, after some time, he’d realize he made a mistake. Because I can’t imagine feeling this way about him if he doesn’t feel it back. But…”

  “But
he hasn’t,” Walter finished.

  I shook my head. I wanted to cry. I was so pathetic. But when I looked up at Walter, he made me feel better because he didn’t look judgmental at all. He looked caring and wholesome and smiled like the cutest little boy I’d ever seen, and he looked like someone who would never in a million years hurt anyone. He gave me faith in men, at a time when all I wanted was some asshole who wasn’t caring and smiled like he was up to something and hurt people on a daily basis and probably didn’t feel the least bit bad about it.

  “Well, if he hasn’t called, and he didn’t chase you out here, then he’s not for you,” Walter said simply. “Trust me, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, because right now you think he’s the only one for you and you can’t imagine ever feeling this way about anyone again. We’ve all been there. And when you’re going through it, there’s nothing anyone can say or do to make it better. You wake up every day and everything sucks.” He grinned again. The little-boy grin. “But then one day, you wake up and the sun shines again. You start to feel like yourself again. And when you actually meet the person you’re supposed to be with, you’ll thank God you didn’t end up with someone who didn’t appreciate you for who you really are.”

  Los Angeles, CA

  April 2009

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. Neither did David. The conversation between us just seemed to unravel and expand into further levels of depth, and before I knew it, the sun was streaming through the window.

  I told him things I had never told anyone. My fears, my insecurities. He was the only person I had ever felt completely, wholeheartedly comfortable with. It was like I could be myself, unconditionally, without judgment. It felt real. It felt right.

  David propped his head up on his elbow and stared at me from the other end of the sofa. “You do know you’re beautiful, right?” David, who typically joked about everything, was being completely serious.

  I thought about it. Sure, guys usually told me that I looked like Denise Richards when they were hitting on me, because I was petite and had the long, brown hair, big, blue eyes, and little nose to match. I didn’t think I was unattractive, but in a land filled with models and actresses, I didn’t think I necessarily stood out either.

  “Everyone in LA is beautiful,” I said.

  “Yeah, but you have an edge. You have that feisty east-coast attitude. And honestly…” He hesitated, clearing his throat. “If we weren’t in these circumstances, I’d be with you in a heartbeat.”

  “Oh come on, Renee’s great,” I said, trying to bring my best friend back into the picture before I forgot about her altogether and did something stupid.

  “She is. But she can be really critical. I bet you’d watch football with me on a Sunday and not roll your eyes.”

  I would’ve done anything with him if it meant I could stare into those crazy brown eyes for one more second.

  “I’m really glad I came over tonight,” he said in a low voice, changing the subject. “I can’t tell you the last time I felt…” He closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be saying this.”

  He shouldn’t have. But I wanted him to.

  There was a pause and neither of us said anything. Something was changing. I could feel it. It was like an unstoppable force was pulling us together.

  When I looked up, his eyes locked with mine, and my heart stopped. The look on his face was unfamiliar to me. He was usually so laid back and funny, but the intensity in his eyes felt like he was an entirely different person.

  He inched his body closer and pressed his face toward mine, but I pulled back.

  “David, I can’t,” I said. “Trust me, I’d love to, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But you’re my best friend’s boyfriend! Did you forget that?”

  In an instant, David was back. His eyes went wide as he broke into a fit of laughter. “She’s going to break up with me anyway! She can’t be that mad if she doesn’t even want to be with me.”

  His laugh was contagious. He made a serious situation seem harmless. I loved that about him; his easygoing nature. Women tended to overthink, overanalyze, and overdramatize everything, and David lived in a world where everything was fine. Always.

  “Don’t you feel this, between us?” he asked. “I know you feel it. I’ve felt it since the minute we met.”

  “Of course I feel it,” I admitted. “But I love Rene, and I would never do that to her.”

  “Okay, then we’ll wait,” he said. “We’ll wait until she breaks up with me. We’ll wait until she moves on. But… there’s something here Justine. You can’t argue that.” He looked straight into my eyes again. “Maybe we can’t act on it now, but someday.”

  And then, as the sun came pouring through the window, I drifted off to sleep next to him.

  Someday. I could live with that.

  Chapter 9

  I read once that candid photos were like time machines because they allowed you to pause time and enjoy the smallest and most genuine details of any given moment in life. They didn’t include fake smiles or premeditated poses; they were real. They captured sincere emotions and expressions, ones that were often overlooked because they happened so quickly. Everyday interactions occurred so frequently and so fast, it was easy to miss them.

  But sometimes, it was necessary to pause a specific moment in your life in order to understand it. To see it more clearly.

  I knew there was something I was missing. Some clear explanation as to what went wrong. But as I looked down at the piece of evidence in my hand, all I saw were two people enjoying each other’s company. Smiling. Happy. In love.

  I had finally removed it from its hiding place. My favorite photo of us. My Sphinx coworker, Jasmine, had taken the picture without our knowledge, while we were at a work event. David’s arm was draped casually around my shoulder, his eyes searching for mine. My head was tilted down, my eyes closed, both of us laughing in unison. We looked so natural, so at ease with each other.

  I had gone over it in my head, again and again, but it still didn’t make sense. We were happy. We were those two people in the picture. Two people who, at one time, couldn’t live without each other.

  As hard as I stared at the photo, searching for some sort of clue, something on David’s face to indicate his mind was elsewhere, I couldn’t find anything. The image of him in the photo was the same image stored in my mind. An image of a man whose full attention was on me. A man who loved me.

  Fortunately, I had learned a lot from my conversation with Walter. David may have been in love with me at one time, but he wasn’t anymore. That part of my life was over. There was, however, someone out there who would someday love me for who I was, and as much as I hated to admit it, that person wasn’t David.

  Now if only I could get myself to believe it.

  Walter’s words had been echoing in my head for days. If he hasn’t called, and he didn’t chase you out here, then he’s not for you.

  He was right. I was holding onto something that wasn’t there. Wasting all my energy on someone who wasn’t worth it.

  I took one last look at the picture, then stuffed it back into the box where I’d been keeping it.

  And just then, something inside of me clicked.

  There was something that photo had told me, but it had nothing to do with how David felt about me. It had to do with how I felt about me. Ever since I could remember, photography had been my one true love, my passion. I had taken endless photos of my adventures growing up with Renee, and every year I gave her an album or a scrapbook for Christmas. Not because she necessarily wanted the photos, but because I loved them. I loved developing them, editing them, piecing them together. They told a story. They meant something to me.

  I had originally retrieved the photo with the intention of studying David, to try to discern some hidden answer, a facial expression, some body language I’d overlooked. Something that was off. But instead, I found myself studying the actual photo. The lighting, the background, the i
ntricate details. It was then that I realized I’d found my answer.

  I’d lost myself. I’d given up my passion and my entire sense of purpose without even realizing it. I had put love first, put him first, and ultimately lost both of us in the process.

  I thought back to the night that David and I had discussed LA, and what separated me from every other girl in the city. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I did now. It wasn’t my looks, or my “east-coast edge” as David suggested. My edge was my sense of purpose. My passion, my ambition – that was what really separated me from everyone else. That was what separated everyone.

  And with that, I picked up my laptop and opened the classified ads page. This was it. I was moving forward with my life. I wouldn’t waste another day on some guy who didn’t care about me. And honestly, how could I expect him to? Not only had I not loved myself, I’d forgotten who I was altogether. Given myself up completely for a man.

  Therapists would have a field day with me.

  Los Angeles, CA

  April 2009

  We had spent the entire day on Sunday together. We ate chips and salsa and watched football, while David educated me on kick-offs, fumbles, handoffs, passing plays, and defensive plays. I didn’t care about any of them. I was just watching the clock, dreading the hours until our weekend of fun came to an unwanted halt.

  He left Sunday night. I asked him to, even though I didn’t really want him to. Neither of us wanted the weekend to end. But it was the right thing to do. Renee would be home in a week, and prolonging the inevitable would only make it harder.

  By the time Monday morning came, I had completely forgotten about Vincent. Friday night seemed like a lifetime ago. But as I strolled through Sphinx’s hallway towards the marketing department, a growing pit began to form in my stomach.