by Alice Moore
I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes and watch him leave, and Roark’s heavy footsteps towards the door pounded against my eardrums. The force he walked with reverberated up my futon frame to rattle my bones, and the soft click of the lock sounded like a judge’s gavel.
In the growing, lonely silence, I released my breath loudly to fall on my side. Cracking open my eyelids, I stared at the credits of my movie with a deep frown taking over my face. Curled in a fetal position, my body shivered lightly from the loss of Roark’s warmth.
“Crap.” Muttering to myself, I forced myself to relax and reached to grab a blanket. “Retreat into the Fortress of Loneliness.”
The darkness created by my makeshift tent was comforting, and I rolled onto my back to stare at it. My breaths shallowed, and my fingers twitched against my belly as I replayed the past 18 hours in my head.
Whatever connection Roark and I had was terrifyingly potent. I had no choice but to acknowledge that, and I dragged my palm up to feel my heart beat too fast to be considered calm. The void around me played tricks, and my own body heat caused sweat to slick between my breasts under my shirt.
“I should’ve had sex with him. Why do I make such bad decisions? We both wanted it- he’s just too much of a gentleman to screw on the first date. Just like last time.” Regret pooled in my chest like tar, and I groaned loudly in a mix of frustration and desire. Taking a deep breath, I slid my palm over my breast to squeeze, and a gasp yanked free of my throat. My firm nipple sent a throbbing ache to my core, and the intensity of it sent shock rocketing through my chest.
Failing to get the blanket off me, I locked my thighs closed and sat up to take heaving breaths. Shaking my head wildly, my mind spun, and my teeth ground together as I tried to pack my need away. Glancing around through narrowed eyes, I grabbed a glass of milk off the coffee table to chug. The cold liquid sent a relief to my system that I desperately needed, and I sighed harshly when the glass was empty.
“Not happening. I can wait. We’re definitely going to have sex at some point, Ally. No use touching myself just to be disappointed.” Swiping both my palms down my face, I groaned again in distaste. “Could be worse. Right? I could not want him and still touch myself because of him. Talk about desperate. Jesus, Ally. What’s wrong with you, huh? One guy turns up and I can’t think straight.”
But there was something about Roark, and I want it. Pushing myself to my feet, I worked on clearing the mess my coffee table had become as I continued my babbling in my head. I wanted it back then, and I want it even more now.
“Because he’s hot and nice, and since Tommy was such an asshole at the end, I had unaddressed self-esteem issues that I try to ignore? I do not. I was thinking of breaking up with him before he broke up with me. We had an alright falling out. There’s nothing wrong with me for wanting Roark. I’m not a gold digger, and I’m not a slut.” Dumping two glasses in the sink as I talked to myself, I tossed a small, empty package of cookies in the garbage and furrowed my brows. “It’s stupid to compare them. Not only are they nothing alike, but Roark is way more handsome and doting.”
Flipping on the tap, I ground my teeth together even as I did what I told myself not to do. In the past however long since our date, Roark had treated me with a level of romanticism that Tommy hadn’t during our entire relationship. I felt so close to him, just as I had when we first met on a blind date. Smirking slightly in a huff, I grabbed a cup and my sponge as I remembered that night.
We weren’t even each other’s blind date; it just kind of happened. I’d walked into the Winery, and instantly Roark came into view. He looked so uncomfortable, bordering on annoyed, but that didn’t last long.
Even when his intended date arrived half an hour late, nothing was awkward. He told her to leave, like she didn’t deserve any of his attention because he was so focused on me.
That was the moment I decided to ask Roark into my apartment, and I didn’t even begrudge him for saying ‘no’. In fact, I might’ve admired it underneath the disappointment and sexual frustration. It showed that he was considerate; even more so now knowing that he’d been married at the time.
“I’m going to go insane.” Mumbling as I did my meager pile of dishes, I suddenly wished I brought home some work, so I could distract myself from Roark’s blindingly attractive qualities.
Roark
“You got this in the mail this morning, Roark.” Looking up from my phone as I sauntered into the kitchen, I frowned at the small, stiff envelop on the island. Sam leaned over it, a grimace painting his face, and I slid my phone into my pajama pants pocket before snatching it. “I read it. You’ve been invited to a funeral for a guy named Luca-“
“Yeah- yeah, I know who he is…” After all, I only know one Luca. Slowly opening the flap, I pulled out the thick card inside with stiff fingers. Scanning the elegant script, my eyes narrowed as memories drudged up from the depths of my brain.
Luca had once been a great business partner, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him since my accident. Why I was invited to his funeral was beyond me- I had only met him a few times, and we’d only conducted business. We weren’t friends in any way.
But I still have to go.
“… So, who is he?” Breaking me from my thoughts, Sam’s curiosity couldn’t be disguised, and I sighed absently. The funeral was on Wednesday, in two days, and it was at a cemetery less than half an hour away. There was no way I could get out of going.
“He was a business associate. I haven’t heard from him since waking up, though. I did hear through the grapevine that he was having some trouble at home, but I don’t know how that could lead to him dying.”
“I see. Why would they invite you if you two didn’t know each other?” Shrugging carelessly at the question, I set the card down to pull out my phone. Navigating to the calendar, my thumbs moved swiftly as Sam started to rattle off theories. “Maybe it’s just for support? You know, if more people show up to a funeral, the better the family will feel. Or, it could be that you had a closer friendship, but you can’t remember. Or, maybe they’re just inviting everyone whoever Luca had more than an association with. I mean, the guy was moderately wealthy- not like you, but you know what I mean. There could be unexpected additions to his will or something pertaining to businesses he owned.”
“I mean, any of those is plausible, Sam.” Searching Luca’s name on the internet, I grimaced and narrowed my eyes from under furrowed brows. “It says here he went missing for over a year and a half. There’s no reason why, but then he showed up at a hospital where he OD’d on heroin and died on Thursday.”
“The guy must’ve been stressed and turned to drugs. It’s too bad.” Closing the browser, I moved to my texts and tapped on Ally’s name. My gut churned at the idea of having to reschedule our date, and my thumbs hovered over the keyboard before my gaze flickered to the time.
She’d be at lunch right now… I should just call her.
Pulling the phone to my ear, I walked around the island to open the refrigerator as Sam watched me intensely. He was always looking for a brain to pick, and I ground my teeth together as I searched for something to eat. Sleeping in until 11 on a Monday wasn’t a habit I wanted to cultivate but pulling an all nightery on Sunday gave me extenuating circumstances.
“Hello?” Ally’s voice filtered through the speaker, chipper and upbeat, and I smiled before grabbing a carton of eggs.
“Hey, Ally. Listen- I need to cancel our date on Wednesday. I just got an invitation to a funeral, and I really should go.” Getting straight to the point, I cleared my throat and set the eggs on the counter before grabbing the bacon. “I’m sorry. I was really looking forward to it.”
“Oh- oh- no… it’s okay. You should go.” Ally tried so hard to mask the disappointment in her voice, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Holding my phone against my ear with my shoulder, I grabbed two pans and worked on washing my hands as she continued. “Was it someone you knew well?”
“Not particular
ly. We’d only met a few times, and we were strictly business associates. I thought about not going, but if I got an invitation, maybe I just don’t remember anything else. I haven’t spoken to this guy since before my accident.” Sparing Ally the details of Luca’s death, I shuffled my phone to my other ear absently while I worked on my breakfast. “I’ve never been to a funeral before.”
“It’s not that bad when you don’t really know the person. You just feel sad for all of the people he left behind. When my college roommate died, that’s how I felt.”
“Yeah? I was afraid it’d be awkward since I might not remember what warranted an invitation in the first place.” All the while Ally and I spoke, Sam’s eyes bored into my back, and I turned on a burner before slicing some butter off its stick.
“You probably received an invitation just because you were business associates. It’s pretty common to have a public wake and a private funeral. I doubt you’ll be expected to stay for the entire thing, Roark.” The line crackled, and I breathed a short sigh of relief before Ally’s voice reached me. “My lunch is almost up, but if you want, you can come over tonight?”
“I can’t. I’m leaving for New York in… an hour and a half. I won’t be back until tomorrow night. I actually just woke up- I spent most of last night going through prospective company merges and terms and stuff. Thankfully it was all organized well, but no one else can make the decision. That’s why I’m going to New York.”
“Yeah, uh- no problem. So… text me when you’re available, then, okay? I have to go.” Saying my goodbye, I set my phone down when Ally hung up on me and sighed heavily.
Grabbing the handle of the pan I’d designated for bacon, I adjusted it on the burner before opening the package that sat on my right. A frown plastered itself on my face, and I slapped a few pieces of bacon in the pan so the sizzle could drown out how crappy it was to hear Ally’s downtrodden voice. I couldn’t have anticipated needing to cancel our date; even though it wasn’t for no reason, I didn’t begrudge her for feeling the way she did.
“… So, you really like this girl, Ally?” Stiffening at Sam’s question, I glanced over my shoulder to scowl at the amusement painted on his face. “Your body language tells me you do. Don’t you think it’s a little early to be considering getting into a serious relationship with her?”
“Yes, I do- fuck off- and no, I don’t. You wouldn’t understand since you haven’t dated since high school. And one night stands don’t count, Sam.” My response only caused Sam to grin widely, and I rolled my eyes.
“You just can’t stand the idea of emotionless sex, Roark. Everything needs to have meaning with you.” Carefully cracking open an egg, I set it in the hot pan as Sam’s voice took on a thoughtful tone against my eardrums. “You don’t love Ally- obviously- so it has to be something more profound. Maybe it’s the fairytale idea of having a soul mate?”
“Why are you pushing this, huh? When did you get such a vested interest in my love life?” Irritation bled into my tone, and I jerked slightly when melted butter splattered onto my wrist. Pursing my lips together, I exhaled through my nose and frowned even as I grabbed a second egg. Cracking the fragile shell easily, I kept my hands up before leaving the stove to stuff bread into the toaster.
“Since you managed to get a love life, Roark. I’ve been an expert in this chemical brain shit for nearly two decades and let me tell you one thing I learned- people are more than what hormones they secrete. I can see it in you… even during your short conversation, you acted like rescheduling this date caused physical pain. I, for one, happen to believe in soul mates because I study the brain. Chemicals help, sure, but there’s something more to humans that science can’t explain.” Sam had to be the most backwards scientist I’d ever met, and I scowled at him over my shoulder.
“That makes no sense. And anyway, I definitely wouldn’t put Ally and I in that category. She already mentioned the pace, and if I threw that bullshit at her, she’d disappear from my life like… that.” Snapping my fingers to prove my point, I moved back to the stove to poke my eggs gently with a spatula. I was under no illusions that Ally wanted a fast, volcanic romance, no matter how much we reacted to the contrary. We’d hold back, take it slow, until it blew up like the bomb it was, and I was surprisingly okay with that. “Ally and I have both had shitty relationships. I’m not going to mess up by dropping the ‘L’ word after the first date.”
“Technically, this would’ve been your fifth date, Roark.” Huffing a ghost of a chuckle at that, I nodded absently, and Sam came up next to me to crowd in front of the bacon with wanting eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never even gotten to a third date… so there’s that.”
Ally
‘Roark: You were wrong. This is terrible. It smells too much like flowers. I feel like shit for not feeling like shit.’
Smiling weakly down at my phone, I set my wine glass down on my coffee table to take hold of the device. My heart squeezed for Roark’s predicament, but before I could even unlock my cell, another of his messages came through with a shrill ping.
‘Roark: You were right. Julia said she only invited me to be polite.’
The text sent a small laugh rippling up my lungs and out of my mouth, and I set down my test papers next to me with a sigh. Roark had gotten increasingly more uncomfortable leading up to the funeral, and his texts had become more frequent. Unlocking my phone, I navigated to his chat as I thought of something to reply with.
‘Ally: How long are you-‘ Pursing my lips into a thin line, I backspaced as my ego blocked me from asking Roark when he would be leaving. ‘Ally: Just be adequately melancholy. It’s respectful.’
“No, that sounds like he’s an asshole- or I’m an asshole for giving that kind of advice.” Mumbling to myself, I deleted the second message, too. Under furrowed brows, my eyes narrowed, and I shuffled on my futon. ‘Ally: I have no response to that.’
Pressing send before I could fully comprehend what a crappy message my third try was, I set my phone on my lap and let my head loll back. Rolling my eye in its socket, I glanced at my test papers with a growing sense of disgust in my chest.
After the whole debacle with Cassandra, she and her posse stopped handing in work. I didn’t have to be a genius to realize it was some sort of botched protest, and I snatched the papers more violently than I had to. They crinkled loudly in my quiet apartment, and a deep, unsettled frown drew down my lips.
There were seven girls in total that were part of this misguided strike, and they were all already ruining their C averages. When they start to fail, I’ll just call their parents’, too. Not that it did anything for Cassandra.
The woman I’d talked to acted as if I was in the wrong for wanting her daughter to pass my class. I was the one expecting too much of a young girl that was inarguable set for life. In her eyes, Cassandra could do no wrong- and that was the exact problem. When her mother realized I wasn’t going to change her grade because of her bad penmanship, she went off on me. My ear rang for two hours, and I’d even put my cell phone down to clean the desks; all the while, she never stopped shouting during those dreadfully long 10 minutes.
Ping.
‘Roark: That’s okay. I’m going to slip out in 15 minutes or so. Is it alright if I come by?’
Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I typed my short, one-word response, and my lips twitched upward. Just the idea of Roark was enough to make me forget the Hell that was working at Wells Academy. Pushing myself off the futon, I wandered into the bathroom to check myself over, and my smile only grew firmer.
My hair was everywhere from how vigorously I’d run my fingers through it. Wine-stained my upper lip, and I didn’t do anything to wipe it away. The light gray, too-big-for-me shirt that hung off my shoulders gave me a slimmer look, and I twisted and turned to admire myself.
I’m a damn hot mess. A little ego never hurt.
The thought made me pause, and I braced myself on the vanity to lean in close to the mirror. Staring
into my own eyes, I silently wondered if I’d ever preened for Tommy before. Raking through my memories, I narrowed my gaze on my reflection when I couldn’t find a single instance in which he appreciated when I was done up.
I refused to wear makeup, but there were other ways of looking better. Tommy only noticed if he was in the mood, and until our break up, I never realized how terrible that made me feel.
But this was different; Roark was different. I could be wearing an unflattering, rainbow balloon dress and he’d think I was pretty.
That struck a chord deep in me, and I sucked in a sharp breath before shaking my head hard. Releasing my lungful in a gust, I flicked the light off on my way out of the bathroom to take the few feet towards my wine glass. The liquid shrunk the lump that had formed in my throat, and I sat down to pick up my cell phone again.
Browsing through my music, I searched for something preppy and upbeat, and it didn’t take me long to find a good song. Turning the volume all the way up, my fingers tingled from the vibration blasting through the speaker, and I bopped my head with a grin. Ignoring the stack of papers on the other end of the futon, I set my phone face down on the coffee table to close my eyes and sway to the beat.
I couldn’t even blame my behavior on the wine, but I tried to ignore the real cause.
Time seemed to move faster with randomly shuffling songs filling my apartment, and I jumped up from the futon at the knock that sounded on my door. Smiling before I even touched the doorknob, I flung open the barrier to be met with Roark’s casual stance. The sight of him in a full suit knocked the air from my lungs, and he was still and quiet as we both took a moment of appreciation.