by Kaye Blue
“Okay,” he said a moment later, his expression completely neutral.
“So I thought I had figured everything out. And I was—am—pretty certain that it’s the right thing to do. But I didn’t give enough consideration to you in the matter.”
“I’m sure you thought about me at least some,” he said, his voice teasing but his eyes flickering with some emotion I couldn’t quite name.
“Nice of you to try to throw me a bone, Kristian, but that’s not exactly what it meant.”
“So what did you then? Mean, that is?” he asked.
“I mean that I perhaps didn’t take enough time to consider what that might do to our friendship and how you felt about it. I can’t speak for you, but I know that I value our relationship more than most, and I don’t ever want to do anything that might put it in jeopardy, or change it.”
“I agree,” he said quietly. I’d expected his agreement, had banked on it, in fact, but that didn’t stop the little twinge of melancholy.
“I didn’t think of that before I asked, and I regret that now. I just hope that things between us haven’t changed, or won’t, because I got a little overexuberant,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure what to call what I had done, but overexuberant seemed good enough, and Kristian nodded.
“That’s fine, you getting overexuberant. But I’m glad we’re on the same page about this,” he said.
“Me too,” I responded.
I was glad, or at the very least happy that it didn’t seem that I had done any permanent damage, but I couldn’t bring myself to share any particular enthusiasm. I was happy that apparently things between us would be okay, and I should have held on to that. Did hold on to it, but I couldn’t ignore the regret, the sense of loss at what could never be.
“It’s not like you to get overexuberant,” he said.
“Is that sarcasm?” I asked.
“Maybe a little,” he responded, his face now smiling.
I smiled back, and knew in that moment that everything between us would be okay. After all, what Kristian called my overexuberance was legendary, and I knew it wasn’t a surprise to him that I had acted in what to me seemed like a completely reasonable way, but to the outside world might seem like a rash, totally ill-thought-out plan.
“So now that you’ve thought about it some more, have you changed your mind?” he asked.
“Changed my mind?” I repeated.
“Yeah, you know, about going through with this?” he said.
I was surprised he asked. I hadn’t been convinced that Kristian would help me, and now that he’d officially turned me down, I was disappointed. But his rejection didn’t change what I wanted, nor alter my plan to get it.
“Oh, that? No,” I said.
The grimace on Kristian’s face after I finished was one I would always remember.
Five
Kristian
“No?” I said, the word half mirroring what she had said, half a genuine question.
Up until this point, the day had gone perfectly. I still felt as comfortable with Dallas as I ever had, and it was clear she felt the same about me. And now that we had cleared the air about her question, and she seemed to understand how little I wanted things to change, I felt good.
Or had until she’d given me that answer.
“Yes,” she said a moment later. “No.”
“That was only slightly confusing, Dallas,” I said.
“I’m not sure what the source of the confusion is. You asked if I was going to stop, my answer is no,” she replied.
She looked at me like I was the one who was being ridiculous.
I didn’t respond, instead trying to choke down my disgust at the thought as I considered what I could say to make her see reason.
“Wait, we should slow this down,” I said.
A stall tactic, and a blatant one, but I was fine with taking it. I needed the stall tactic, at least if what it seemed Dallas was saying was actually how she felt because there was no way in hell I was letting her go through with this stupid scheme.
“We can slow down, but I don’t understand what you’re confused about,” she said.
“I thought you said that you got a little overexuberant,” I responded.
“I did, by asking you. That doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon the plan altogether.”
Of course she wouldn’t. No way stubborn Dallas would abandon a plan, even if I explained to her why it was stupid. Hell, she’d probably go through with it just to spite me.
I frowned, while she smiled, her expression highlighting the fullness of her cheekbones.
“They don’t make many like you, Kristian, but there are a lot of suitable men out there. I’m certain,” she said, but by adding the last saying, she was anything but.
I couldn’t focus on that, nor the seemingly heartfelt compliment she’d given me. Instead I was hung up on the idea of her actually contemplating going through with this. I struggled for clarification, then asked the question.
“So you mean you’re going to do things the right way. Not just look for someone to take your virginity, you’re going to go out, try to meet someone, find love, then look at taking things further?” I said.
Dallas snorted, then rolled her eyes in that typically Dallas way.
“Do you think I have until I’m one hundred?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m working on a timetable here, and what you described is definitely not within that frame.”
“Why are you trying to rush it?”
She frowned, her expression turning serious. “I mean it, Kristian, I’m ready for this to happen.”
I saw a flash of something far too much like pain in her expression, and I instantly wanted to soothe it away, but I wasn’t certain that I could.
“But, Dallas, be reasonable. I mean, you see why that wouldn’t work with me, so why not just abandon it altogether?”
“Because you might not realize this, but you’re a special case,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
It seemed I had asked that question more than I cared to in this conversation, but I wanted an explanation, to understand where Dallas was coming from, and more importantly, where she thought she might be going.
“Well, this might come as news to you, but I don’t consider every potential bed partner out there a best friend. I don’t care necessarily what they think, and wouldn’t have anything to lose by moving more quickly, trying to pursue a relationship, maybe eventually a family. So if I don’t have that particular issue to worry about, then I don’t understand why I would stop. I want a family, I want to find love, and no matter how stupid it might seem to you, I know I’m not going to be able to do that if I don’t handle this other issue first.”
Dallas went quiet then, and I could see embarrassment beginning to grow. I also saw annoyance. She was probably angry with herself for going on for so long, opening up so much, but I was happy that she had clearly articulated what she was thinking.
But I remained unconvinced.
When Dallas spoke to me, she seemed so calm, so certain that she was doing the right thing, but I didn’t share her certainty.
“Dallas, I know that you don’t have close relationships with everyone, but your virginity is different—special—you should treat it as such,” I said.
She lowered her brows, her expression darkening, and I knew exactly what that meant. She thought I was babying her, insulting her, and while I would deny that was true, perhaps she did need babying, maybe insulting if it was going to get rid of the ridiculous idea in her head.
“I appreciate the input, and definitely understand your perspective, but I don’t think you understand mine.”
“Oh, I—”
I cut off when she shook her head violently, sent that riot of curls shaking. Though I glanced at them, I again returned to her face, intrigued, unable to deny that she was having a very strong reaction.
“That’s the
thing. You don’t have to understand, and you definitely don’t have to approve,” she said.
“No, I don’t. I’m just trying to give you good advice.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but my mind is made up on this topic.”
“Okay,” I said, though it was anything but. Still, I knew Dallas, knew that if I pushed, I would get absolutely nowhere, so it was in my best interest to keep my mouth closed.
“Good. Thanks for understanding. And if it’s all the same, I think that we shouldn’t talk about this again,” she said.
It was my turn to react now.
No, we hadn’t talked about Dallas’s love life, or apparent lack thereof, before, but there were also no subjects that were off-limits between us, or at least there hadn’t been.
“Why not? You might need an ear to bounce things off of, or someone to just listen,” I said.
I was more than happy to be that to her. In fact, I almost wanted to demand to be that. It wasn’t like I necessarily wanted to hear all the details of Dallas’s relationships, but I hated on a visceral level the idea of her making something between us off-limits.
It wasn’t right.
Not for Dallas and me.
One glance at her told me she definitely didn’t agree. I could feel the openness, the absolute trust that was the pillar of our relationship begin to constrict, and I absolutely fucking hated it.
But Dallas seemed unaware of what I was feeling, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to clue her in, so she continued.
“Like I said, Kristian, I’m trying to make the best of this, and I think that’s what we need to do. Which isn’t to say I’m going to completely cut you out, stop trusting you or anything like that. But I made a mistake in mentioning this to you. I don’t want to compound that mistake. So I just think it’s for the best if you pretend I never said anything, and going forward, if there’s something I need your help with, I’ll take it, but in terms of you and me talking about this topic anymore, I wouldn’t expect that,” she said.
I was smart enough to know when I had been shut down, and Dallas had just shut me down. All the way. That feeling of constriction got worse.
Everything inside of me wanted to argue, protest, make her see reason, but I knew that would be futile. And besides, did I really have a leg to stand on?
It had been me who had rejected her, and then me who had wanted her to reconsider what she was doing. If I pushed further, I knew exactly how Dallas would respond, or rather, how she wouldn’t. So there was nothing for me to say. But knowing that and saying it out loud were two different things.
“Fine. But you have to promise me that you’re going to be careful,” I said. The words were like acid, burning at the back of my throat as my stomach churned and my brain screamed at how fucked up and wrong this entire plan was. But there was nothing else I could say, nothing else I could do but make sure I was there for her if she needed me. I was powerless in this situation, and I hated that feeling more than words could express.
“Of course,” she finally said.
We stood in the kitchen awkwardly for a few moments, and then finally she looked around, signaling to me that the topic of conversation was about to change.
“You know, Kristian, this place is really coming together. You have something special here,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, though I couldn’t muster much enthusiasm at first, not when my mind was still thinking about our earlier conversation. But when I continued, I was much more energetic. “But you deserve some of the credit too,” I said.
“For what?” she asked.
“You get what I’m trying to do with this place, and I think if I hadn’t had your guidance on both the decor and the overall feeling, I might have lost some of that. But I didn’t, and that’s because of you,” I said.
“Go teamwork!” she said as she lifted both of her hands for high fives.
I returned the gesture, laughing with genuine amusement.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that particular American gesture, but I know how much you love it,” I said.
“Dude, Medina needs to catch up. High fives are awesome,” she said.
I laughed and couldn’t help but think back to the first year we had met.
I’d helped her carry that godawfully heavy trunk up the stairs, and her belted out, “Awesome!” had been confusing to me.
I’d come to the U.S. as soon as I conceivably could at age twenty-two. I had completed my formal education at the school and military academy that all Medina royalty went to, and had finally convinced my father to let me come to the States to go to graduate school.
He hadn’t known at the time that graduate school was actually culinary school, and by the time he found out it had been too late.
Though I had been certain that I wanted to come here, I’d been less familiar with the customs, and Dallas’s high fives and “awesome” were my first introductions to American colloquialisms. And even now, all these years later, I had some trouble with them, but still loved them, mostly because I saw how happy they made Dallas.
“So you should lock up, but is there anything you need me to help you do first?” she asked.
“No. But why don’t you go ahead. I want to sweep up a little bit, maybe do a little bit more planning while the place is still quiet,” I said.
“Fine, but don’t stay here too late,” she said, her voice full with warning.
“I won’t,” I replied, looking at her indulgently.
That was something else I had a hard time getting used to, the quality of Dallas’s concern for me something novel. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made it different, but whereas I would ordinarily reject someone attempting to look after me, with Dallas I didn’t. I felt good about it, maybe even a little bit happy.
“All right, I’m out of here. So catch up with you later?” she asked.
“Yeah. And I want an update on how your sculptures are going,” I said.
Dallas shook her head at me.
“Dude, you can’t force art that way. But,” she said, looking at me with a long-suffering expression on her face, “in the spirit of cooperation, I will let you know how far I’ve gotten with my sculptures as I continue. I hope that is sufficient,” she said.
“For now,” I responded. “Now get out of here before it gets too late.”
“See you,” she said with a quick wave.
Then she donned her leather jacket and hoisted her backpack on one shoulder before she headed out the door.
I watched her as she left, and continued to look long after she was out of view.
I wasn’t sure how long I stayed that way, but I eventually made my way back into the kitchen, made sure that everything was in order before I headed back into the office to tackle last-minute issues.
But, as had been the case the day before, my focus was scattered.
That was uncommon, something I didn’t care for, but also something I couldn’t deny.
Couldn’t deny the reason for it either.
Dallas’s and my conversation had not gone entirely the way I had wanted it to.
As much as I liked to give Dallas trouble for being an artist, flighty, I also knew that she was incredibly stubborn, and once she got her mind on a particular path, it was difficult to get her off it.
Which is why her apology had thrown me for such a loop.
She had nothing to apologize for, but the way she had come to me suggested some deep consideration and told me that she had given it a lot of thought.
I had too, more than I cared to admit, but I also recognized that there was something flattering in the trust Dallas had wanted to bestow on me.
There was no way I could go through with it. No way I would risk our friendship, but I also wouldn’t diminish what her question had meant, how humbling, and how much I liked her trust in me.
Which made the rest of the conversation we’d had that much more difficult to process.
I’d been
certain that she had seen reason, but the way she reacted told me that I had been mistaken.
Because the idea of Dallas going through with this with someone else was almost as intolerable as the idea of her going through with it with me.
I tried to put my finger on that, tried to understand why, and came up with a variety of reasons.
Safety was one.
Dallas was smart, and though I insisted she take rides if it was too late at night, something that she almost always fought against, I still trusted her to make good decisions when it came to her physical safety.
I also knew that she would enlist Cree, Sarah, or one of her other friends if she was going to go off with some stranger.
So my concerns about her physical well-being were misplaced, not that knowing that did anything to alleviate those concerns.
So while I might be able to minimize my worries about her physical safety, there were bigger issues at stake.
I had to consider her emotional safety as well.
For all of her intuition, the way she lived on instinct, I worried that Dallas might make herself vulnerable with someone who didn’t deserve that level of her trust.
She often told me that I was near stoic, but I had nothing on her. I knew I was one of the few people she let in, but even for me there were limits to that.
Dallas was something of a fortress, and were someone to slip past those walls, that person would have access to the very core of her, would have a power over her that scared me to even think about.
And, though I trusted her judgment, at least a little, I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t know the person who managed to get that close to her, didn’t know if I could trust him, trust that he had her best interests at heart.
If someone hurt her, physically, emotionally, they would have to deal with me, and I wasn’t sure how Dallas would respond to that.
Which was why her forgetting this whole idea was for the best.
When she told me of her desires, how much she wanted a family, a partner, I knew the truth of it, but I also knew that there had to be a better way than the one she was taking.