Love Nouveau

by Berry, B. L.

  “So where are we eating?” I ask once we’re both settled into the car.

  Phoenix smiles as he reaches over to turn down the stereo. The Airborne Toxic Event softly serenades us with an acoustic rendition of Sometime Around Midnight.

  Focusing his eyes back on the road, my question goes unanswered.

  “You told me we were having dinner.”

  He nods. “Just dinner.”

  “Just dinner.” I affirm.

  “And maybe more,” he throws in casually, “but that’ll depend on you.”

  If this is this his way of coming onto me, he seriously needs some new material.

  Phoenix looks across the front seat and smiles at me again. He is very tight lipped about this evening’s plans, and the anticipation he’s building has a strange effect on me. I feel like I’m thirteen years old again and crushing on the popular boy who is a few grades ahead of me.

  I can handle a little mystery, can’t I?

  The drive doesn’t take us long as he pulls onto campus and parks in a staff parking lot behind one of the science buildings. He holds up a single finger, indicating he wants me to stay put. I’m confused as to why we’re on campus, but I decide to go with it rather than say something and ruin whatever plan he’s concocted.

  Phoenix runs around to the back of the car and pulls something out of the trunk before coming to the passenger side and opening the door for me, his boyish grin melting my heart. As he pulls me to my feet, I notice a picnic basket.

  “I thought you might like to do something different for dinner.”

  He reaches out and grabs my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I can’t help but believe that it belongs there, my hand molds perfectly inside of his, and I suddenly find myself self-conscious of sweaty palms.

  It becomes obvious that Phoenix isn’t sure exactly where he is going when we walk by the same building a third time.

  “There’s a grassy area on the other side of Agricultural Hall where we could eat,” I suggest, trying not to make him feel bad. I really have no idea what he’s looking for and he is tight-lipped on our destination.

  “Which one is Agricultural Hall? We’re going somewhere close to there.”

  I point to prominent building down the way and lead him to the lawn on the backside. Phoenix pauses for a moment and evaluates the domed building in the distance. Tugging on my hand, he pulls me toward Washburn Observatory, one of the oldest buildings on campus.

  “Have you been here before?” he asks as we approach.

  I shake my head. I passed by this building nearly every day my freshman year but never stepped foot inside. Rachel and I learned about this place on our campus tour during orientation. It’s one hundred plus years old and, at the time, housed one of the largest telescopes in the world.

  It’s a Saturday night and I know for a fact that the building is closed. Only on an occasional Wednesday is it open to the public. Otherwise, it’s restricted access—astronomy students and staff only.

  We approach the main entrance and Phoenix smiles at me knowingly, before knocking on the entrance. A short guy with dirty blond hair and thick-rimmed glasses opens the door and lets us inside.

  The ground level is dimly lit and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. A century of must fills the air even after multiple renovations. The scent reminds me of old books and mildew.

  “How…?” I eye him cautiously as the door pulls shut behind me.

  Spending the night in a holding cell for breaking and entering, no matter how innocent it may be is not how I want to spend my first night as a college graduate.

  “I know someone,” he says proudly. “Okay, that’s a lie. I actually know someone who knows someone.”

  My feet are firmly planted and I can’t seem to make myself walk further. He senses my hesitation.

  “Seriously, Ivy, it’s okay. One of the guys I’m with this weekend is an astronomy grad student. He helped coordinate everything for us. Just don’t break anything.”

  He doesn’t have to worry about that. I won’t touch, or even breathe near anything inside this place for fear of destroying it. What have I done to be worthy of orchestrating such a huge favor? And what are his expectations after this little adventure? But one word gets caught in my chest. Us.

  Instantly I feel guilty for these thoughts.

  Phoenix reaches for my hand again and I follow him toward a narrow stairwell in the corner. He gestures for me to walk up first.

  As we climb to the second floor, a wave of fresh air hits me. The dome is pulled back, revealing an exquisite technicolor sky over Lake Mendota. I have never seen anything like this before and it is absolutely breathtaking. From our vantage point, you can’t see the sun, but it’s evident that it’s on the cusp of disappearing for the evening.

  “Have a seat,” he tells me as gestures to a blanket that’s laid on the ground.

  This really is over the top. And thoughtful. And something that only happens in the movies or romance novels—never to me.

  We are only thirty minutes into our evening and already I’m certain that any date I go on for the rest of my life will have a hard time outdoing this one. Seriously, what twenty-something does this kind of romantic gesture? What’s his game?

  As I settle onto the ground, he sits down next to me and opens the picnic basket.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I was working with limited resources,” he says as he hands me a peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich with the crust cut off. “If it’s not up to your caliber, we can blow this place off and find a restaurant. But I’ll warn you, reservations are tough to come by since it’s graduation weekend.”

  I look at the sandwich in my hands and can’t believe how absolutely perfect this moment is. I haven’t tasted a fluffanutter sandwich since I was a little girl. The sentiment he evokes from me is indescribable.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t get a dinner like this anywhere downtown,” I reply with a coquettish grin.

  He pops open two sodas and pulls out a bag of pretzels, some cheese, and a pair of gourmet cupcakes from my favorite local bakery. My stomach relaxes at the realization that he left the alcohol at home.

  We eat our sandwiches in comfortable silence. I find myself subconsciously mirroring his movements. Taking a bite when he does. Following his lead as he drinks his soda. It’s hard to believe that I just met him the other night. Having him here next to me feels as natural as breathing. The way my body is in sync with his makes me feel like I’ve known him for years, as if our souls are connected.

  As I savor the last of the sandwich he made, my mind drifts off to thoughts of Thursday night. What if we didn’t go to that house party? What if I had blown him off, or worse, thrown myself at Sully?

  Sitting here in his presence makes me want to be a better person. It’s easy to let the past be done and focus on what is right in front of me this very moment.

  Twilight is upon us and the air is starting to chill as the sky fades from blue to purple to pink and red then orange before settling on black spotted with flecks of glitter. The stars twinkle, making their presence known on this cloudless night.

  We make small talk as we finish our food and a slight shiver runs down my spine. I realize that there is nothing sexier than a good conversation. His words alone are enough to disarm me. After putting the remainder of the cheese back in the picnic basket, Phoenix takes the blanket and wraps it around me, letting his hand linger around my back.

  I pick at my cupcake, amazed that of the dozens of flavors he managed to buy my favorite one—chocolate sea-salted caramel. Our eyes meet and he reaches over, picking a small piece off the side of my lips.

  “Lucky crumb,” Phoenix says, putting it in his mouth. He looks up into the sky, his eyes full of wonder. “That’s some serious moonlight.”

  I smile and turn my gaze toward the sky. His David Bowie reference is not lost on me.

  “If you could go back to any age, how old would you want to
be?”

  What a peculiar question to be asked. Most of the time my parents treat me as if I’m a ten year old in a twenty-something’s wardrobe. Not because I’m immature, but I think because I was far more impressionable and easily put into line.

  “I think I’d want to be fourteen again. Fourteen was a very good year. Things were much simpler and the toughest choices I had to make were what to wear to school any given day. My folks weren’t such assholes back then, and there were no exes or complicated adult relationships to navigate. No games, either. If you had a crush on someone, it was easy. You’d just pass a note in math class asking ‘Do you like me? Check yes, no, or maybe’. If they checked yes, or even maybe, then you were automatically a couple.”

  He chuckles, presumably recalling his own prepubescent memory.

  “What about you?”

  “I think I’d be eight. I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up. Fly in and save the damsel in distress. Be someone’s knight in shining armor. Life was a lot less …dramatic back then. Sometimes being naïve is a blessing.”

  The way he says it is almost heartbreaking, and I want to ask him what happened, but he stands and walks toward the telescope on the other end of the dome, effectively ending this portion of our conversation. When he looks back, he catches me checking out his ass, and I flush crimson, feeling the urge to quickly change the subject.

  “So you’re missing the last night of your bachelor weekend extravaganza?” I ask, pushing myself up to my feet to stand next to him.

  “Nah, I’ll catch up with the guys later. They’re probably so drunk they don’t even realize I’m gone.” He runs his hand down the length of the telescope with an intense look in his eye. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he says, lifting his eyebrows. “I’m totally using you right now.”

  “Is that so?” He nods once, not breaking my gaze. “You’re not a very good user apparently. I still have my clothes on and you’ve tipped me off on your plans. Rookie mistake,” I tease.

  Casually, he runs his hand through his hair and confesses, “Actually, I’m using you as an excuse. The whole bachelor party thing? Not my scene at all. I’m not big on drinking until I puke. And if you’ve seen one stripper, you’ve seen them all.”

  I’m not sure if I should be charmed by his honesty or offended that he claimed me as his excuse to ditch the guys.

  “Besides, not to be all negative, but I don’t think it’ll last. Sully has never been a one gal kind of guy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid and has always been a loyal friend when I needed him the most, he’s just not what I’d call monogamous material.”

  I snort involuntarily. What he said isn’t funny in the slightest, but I can’t say it surprises me. Men, as a collective whole, tend to have a problem keeping their dicks to themselves. With my previous affinity for whoring myself out, sometimes I wonder if I should have been born a guy.

  “Apparently he got lucky at the party on Thursday night. We had to listen to him boast about it all day yesterday,” he says in disbelief before giving me a curious glance. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” he questions me, wiggling his eyebrows in jest.

  “Oh God! No!” I say, trying not to sound defensive. “I most definitely did not hook up with him.” My cheeks flush scarlet at the thought of initially wanting to take Sully ten ways to Sunday, and my mind wanders back to the black-haired girl with tanned skin. I wonder if she had any clue that he was engaged. If she did, would that have changed the fate of her night?

  I nudge Phoenix over a little and bring my face to the eyepiece on the telescope. Turning a knob on the side, I watch the blurriness subside and focus on the brilliant stars light years away. It’s truly breathtaking. When I feel his hand on the small of my back, my heart skips a beat, and I step back from the lens and nod for him to take a peek with a small smile on my lips.

  As he looks through the telescope, Phoenix goes on to tell me all about how Sully never had a girlfriend he was completely faithful to, but in spite of his tendency to sleep around he is a fiercely loyal friend and has been there for him his whole life. Sully actually starts to sound like a decent guy, if it weren’t for cheating on his fiancée time and time again. I chew on that thought for a few moments, feeling bad for his unassuming blushing bride.

  In turn, I tell Phoenix more about my adventures in Italy. How I took the time away from home to really focus on myself and making me a better person. Phoenix senses my hesitation that comes with talking about my past, but is genuinely interested in listening to me talk about learning Greek and Roman architecture firsthand.

  We’re standing fairly close together, taking turns getting lost in the stars and telling each other stories. If ever there were a moment to kiss me, this would be it. I know Phoenix can sense it too. He becomes increasingly more nervous and is the first to look away.

  We linger in this moment a touch too long, evident that neither of us is bold enough to make a move. It takes all of my energy to suppress the urge to plaster my lips on his, wrap my legs around his waist and take him right here and now.

  But I am not that girl anymore. I will not shamelessly take what I want whenever I want it. I force myself to step back and allow him to make the first move, relinquishing control and allowing him to take the lead.

  “Come on,” I say, tugging on his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  We make our way down through the observatory. Phoenix gives a nod to the young man who let us in. I didn’t realize he was still on site waiting for us.

  I lead him down Observatory Drive, cutting down a side path taking us to Lake Mendota’s waterfront walkway. This place is the epitome of peace in a vibrant college town. Darkness consumes the world in front of us and city lights strike the sky off in the distance.

  We cross a wrought iron bench with a small memorial plaque affixed to the back of the seat and pause together to read the words etched for eternity.

  For my dearest Delilah who loved this bench

  nearly as much as she loved her family.

  One day, we’ll enjoy this perfect view together again.

  “Fancy a seat? See what Delilah thought the fuss was all about?” Phoenix gestures to the bench, then sits down beside me.

  I lean over and rest my elbows on my knees, gazing upon the lake. I can’t help the wistful feeling taking over, knowing just how much I’m going to miss this place when I return home to Chicago.

  What a perfect way to spend my last night in Madison. We haven’t spent a dime and yet we’ve managed to experience the beauty of this city. Phoenix has opened my eyes to a side of this place I’ve never even appreciated.

  He mirrors my position, leaning over his knees. I can’t read him as well as I can read other people, but I think he’s into me. I get the feeling that he is just as cautious and weary of starting anything because we both go our separate ways tomorrow and it seems silly to explore this connection we share. From what I can tell, Phoenix could take me right here on this bench just as easily as he could give me a hearty handshake with a “thanks for the company” before turning and walking away.

  “What are you thinking about?” he questions.

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  I take a deep breath and allow myself a collective moment to summon my bravery, thinking back to our earlier conversation about Sully. “Are you monogamous material?” I blurt out without considering that I might not want to know the answer to the question. My attempts at being coy are pathetic at best, but I’m feeling bold and discretion was never my best quality.

  “Well, I have certainly never cheated on anyone like Sully has, if that’s what you mean. But I’ve never met anyone who struck me to the point of wanting to be in a serious, long-term relationship. I dated this one girl for a year or so, but she wasn’t the right one for me. I honestly don’t buy into the whole notion of marriage.”

  His proclamation does not surprise me at all. I’m not sure I’ve ever known any g
uy to be into marriage without external pressures from their significant other, family, or society.

  He takes a deep breath before continuing the thought. “When I was little, I walked in on my dad and another woman. It was devastating and practically tore my family apart. I was only nine years old at the time, but it completely wrecked my sense of security.” I suddenly understand his earlier comment about wanting to go back to being eight years old. It was a time where his family was still whole and his father was undoubtedly his hero.

  “After Mom and I left him, I had to step up. Work granted her unpaid temporary leave, but most days she could barely function and I’d have to remind her to eat. She loved my dad so ferociously, but it was obvious her love was unmatched. I think the intensity and depth in which you love someone is directly proportional to the amount of hurt they are capable of bringing. It’s why I don’t judge Sully for sleeping around. It’s why I don’t buy into the theory of marriage, though I’m not opposed to it entirely for other people. It’s why I’m not sure one guy can just stay happy with one woman for all of eternity. How can something so sacred be fragile enough to shatter with one weak moment of stupidity?”

  Phoenix bites his thumbnail and looks down at the ground, and I give him the silence he seems to need. My heart aches for nine-year-old Phoenix. But his last comment is what burns me. It’s exactly the reason why I’ve avoided truly opening myself up to anyone. Even with Matt there were always walls built, never letting him in entirely because I’m absolutely petrified of love and the pain it can bring. I gathered from my mom a long time ago that the person who loves the least is in control of the relationship. They are also the least likely to get hurt. And I hurt enough without love complicating things further, thank you very much.