Edge of Something More

by Andi Loveall

  “He’s young.”

  “Not much younger than you.”

  “Well you obviously can’t compare him to me.”

  “True that. You’re incredible. And apparently Swedish, too.”

  “That was so random. I was just like … what?”

  “When Walter told him I’d snatched you up.” He took a deep breath. “What do you think of that?”

  “I hate that word. Snatched. Makes me think of plastic fabric. And vaginas.”

  “Plastic fabric?” He made a face of confusion. “Actually I know exactly what you mean. Like the word scrotum. It sounds like some sort of filthy creature you’d come across in a swamp.”

  “Gonads,” Cora said, leading him into the cabin. “Yeah, worse—I know.”

  “Gonads. Little alien creatures with bulging eyes, blue hair, and distasteful dispositions.”

  “Why are they all creatures?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s terrifying. Nice job changing the subject, by the way.”

  Her giggles died down and she looked at him long and deep, then she grabbed him, pulling him close.

  “If you want me to be snatched,” she said. “I’m snatched. In fact, why don’t I just be whatever you want me to be. What do you want? A schoolgirl? A princess? A rock star?”

  He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

  “Well,” he said. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt if you were a little Swedish. Just a little.”

  She let out a cute giggle and shoved him down on the bed. She straddled him and flipped her hair around.

  “Ja,” she said. “I am virgin Swedish girl, newly arrived to America. I need man to … How you say? Do sex educate? You can help me, ja?”

  Devin couldn’t keep a straight face, but he did sex educate anyway.

  Attempt one at determining the future of his relationship thwarted.

  ***

  The next morning had the makings of a good day painted all over it. The sun was shining, the sky was dotted with fluffy little clouds, and they had minimal work to do in the garden. They were probably going to take Rocky to jump off the waterfall later because, of course, he had “jumped off much bigger ledges than that.”

  They were halfway through weeding the vegetable patch when Devin decided to stay back and chill in the cabin when they were done.

  So far, Rocky’s subject matter only included three things: working out, traveling, and how amazingly good he was at everything. The travel talk would have been cool if it wasn’t for the constant bragging. When Devin mentioned his own plans, Rocky responded with: “India? That’s pretty cool. You’re twenty-three right? Dang man, I’m only nineteen and have already been way more places. By the time I’m your age I’ll have traveled the entire world!”

  And the way he stared at Cora … Not that anyone could entirely blame him, but there’s a thing called tact. You don’t gawk at a dude’s girlfriend right in front of his face, you wait until he isn’t looking, like everyone else.

  The choice to stay back ended up being a good one, as Cora was getting her period. They decided on a lazy afternoon, and he got her set up with a joint and a book while he made her dinner. Creamy pasta with organic cheese, coconut milk, and a ton of garlic—as requested. He included some pickles on the side and caramels for dessert.

  “You’re trying to fatten me up,” she said after they finished eating.

  “No,” he said, rubbing her belly. “I’m just trying to make sure you have enough.”

  There was something deeply erotic about caring for a bleeding woman. His mother once told him that a woman’s monthlies were her hardest time and that a good man should cherish and take care of her best he could. He wanted to know more, but she refused to give him any details. Jess was very private about her body. Usually, it took some prodding to even get her to admit she was having it.

  Cora was a lot more open, but her period also seemed to hurt her a lot more than Jess’s did.

  “Ow,” she groaned, her face red with tension.

  “What can I do?”

  “Can you press on my back right there? Like, really hard, really—yes! Yes.”

  She groaned as he applied more pressure. He continued to massage and push wherever they could find that relieved the pain. After a little while, it seemed to help, and she fell asleep.

  He lit a bunch of candles and got situated in bed beside her before opening up his notebook.

  He wanted to work on his story about being lost in the woods, but he was having trouble making anything bad happen to his lovers—now tentatively named Carolina and Tom. He had come up with a number of possible antagonists, such as a murderous ghost, a band of thieves, or a plague of flesh-eating bacteria, but nothing felt right.

  He was just so happy. All he wanted to write were romantic waterfall scenes and graphic sex.

  He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Cora’s breath and all the collective sounds behind it. Birds. A dog bark. A car pulling into the driveway. A voice. The screen door of one of the other cabins closing with a thwap.

  He pictured a quiet little Western town on a quiet little day. The sort of day where the occasional caws of the crows seem a little too far off, leaving the buzzin’ of an angry wasp as the only sign of life. A day where the heat sucked the moisture from the dirt, leaving it dry enough for dust devils had there been any wind. He was a lonesome cowboy at the end of a long ride, stepping through the doors of an old saloon without a penny in his pocket or the will to feel his own heartbeat. He saw a woman, standing on top of the stairs. Her breasts were up high and her waist was cinched tight, her face hid behind a fan. She lowered it down, blowing him a kiss, and he saw the perfection of her beauty.

  Saloon girl, in red and black lace. She was the reason to keep on living.

  He opened his eyes and began writing it all down. It was probably going to end in graphic sex, but at least this one wouldn’t involve a waterfall.

  Cora woke up, grimacing in pain and climbing out of bed.

  “I can’t sleep,” she said. “I have to do something.”

  She stumbled across the room, grabbing the laundry basket from the floor.

  “Sometimes I just have to focus on a task,” she said. “It takes my mind off the pain.”

  “Do you want me to rub some more?”

  “No thanks,” she said. “I need to fold laundry.”

  He watched her. There was something so sexy about a woman doing housework, and it increased the warm, fuzzy feeling he was already getting from taking care of her. It wasn’t a chauvinistic thing, it just felt good to see the woman he loved taking care of things in the home. It made him see a perfect vision of the future: The two of them sharing an airy little apartment with a balcony and a view. She would go to school, and he would somehow become a famous writer. He would take the time to cook her every meal he could. Whenever it was warm, they would eat on the balcony, watching the stars appearing in the sky. He would write into the early-morning hours while she got her sleep for school, and things in the bedroom would never get boring because they would always be trying new things, like tying each other up and pretending to be kidnappers and a bunch of other freaky stuff that he would get around to imagining later.

  And then, one day in the moderately distant future, he would thrust his love inside of her and make life. It would be the deepest happiness he had ever known, that child.

  Yeah, it was official. He was thinking about shacking up.

  “Random question time,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to come to India?”

  She was quiet, and for a second he thought she hadn’t heard him. Then:

  “What?”

  “To India … with me and Lucius.”

  “ … You know I have school.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was thinking maybe we could go earlier and come back in time for school.”

  “But then I’d miss the summer here.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Okay.” />
  The room felt colder.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “No, it’s okay.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what’s with me. All day today I’ve been asking people if they want to go to various foreign countries. Earlier I asked Walter to go to Algeria—”

  “Devin—”

  “He said yes, that was the weird thing.”

  “Listen,” she said. “It’s just, not everyone wants to go to India, you know?”

  “Believe me,” he said. “I know.”

  The awkwardness hung in the air, pressing down on him like a giant weight. What was he thinking? Of course she wouldn’t want to leave this place. What sort of crazy person would?

  His mind and was whispering things. Things like how maybe Leon had been right. Maybe India really was a nasty shit hole. Maybe Monty had been some sort of lunatic putting on a fake accent, and he was actually from Escondido. Maybe these were the greenest pastures he would ever find.

  He couldn’t back out of India now. Not after telling everyone back home that he was off to brave a foreign world. Not after involving a friend and getting his hopes up. Lucius was talking more about India every day: where they would go, what they would eat, all the hot backpacker girls they were going to find. Devin too should have been pouring over websites, researching visas, and soaking up valuable information about how to not die while going balls-out in a foreign country. He too should have been wanting to do this thing he had originally been wanting to do.

  Cora set the laundry aside and crawled onto the bed next to him.

  “Don’t be sad,” she said.

  “I’m not sad.”

  “Yes you are,” she said, grabbing his chin. “You’re making that cute little face you always make when you’re sad.”

  “I’m not sad. You’ve never even seen me sad.”

  “Good. I thought I was going to have to do something special to cheer you up, but if you’re not sad—”

  “Actually, I am a bit depressed,” he said, kissing her. “Really depressed. I might die if I don’t get therapy. Mhm. I need overpriced and possibly dangerous medication.”

  She giggled and kissed him harder.

  “Mhm,” he murmured. “Someone’s feeling better.”

  “See? Laundry works every time.”

  He laughed. “God, I love you.”

  She pulled back. “What?”

  “I love you.”

  She blinked. One beat of silence. Two beats of silence. Three beats of … Oh, crap.

  Thrap! Thrap! Thrap!

  They both jumped, looking over at the door. She jumped to her feet, running over to answer it.

  “Yeah, what? Hey!”

  Water sprayed into the room. Cora shrieked at the top of her lungs.

  Devin leaped to his feet and pushed past her outside, running right into Rocky. He was on the porch with the hose aimed right at her, an obnoxious-pervert grin on his face. His bulging eyes were glued to her now-soaked tit region, and Lucius was a few feet behind him, half laughing and half looking like he just realized he made a big mistake.

  “What the hell?” Devin ripped the hose from Rocky’s hand and flung it away before shoving him backward.

  “Whoa! It was just a joke, man! He said that’s what you do around here when you’re bored, play jokes on each other.”

  He looked at Lucius as if to ask for help. Lucius just shrugged, holding up his hands.

  “Bullshit.” Devin took a step closer. “I saw what you were doing.”

  “Devin,” Cora said, taking his arm. “Let’s just go inside okay?”

  “Yeah, go inside.” Rocky made a face. “Little prissy diamond boy, should’ve been born with diamonds on his fingers. You’ve got a stick up your ass, man.”

  “Right,” Devin called after him. “How about I pull it out and break your nose with it?”

  “Devin, stop it!” Cora was dragging him. “That’s gross!”

  “That’s gross? Did you not see him?”

  “Why are you being so aggressive?”

  “Um, hello? Did you not see him spraying water into our room? Or on your boobs? Did you not see him leering at your boobs? Have you not seen him leering at your boobs for days? He should have stopped messing with you the moment Walter told him you were with me.”

  “He wasn’t messing with me. He was messing with us. It could have been you who opened the door. Anyway, you’ve sprayed me with the hose. Lucius has sprayed me with the hose and you didn’t get mad at him.”

  “Lucius is our friend. We don’t even know this kid. And I did it as a way to flirt with you, so what’s your point?”

  “It was a joke, Devin. That’s my point. Anyway, he’s just a stupid kid. You’re supposed to be a man.”

  She sat on the bed, rubbing her eyes. He knew the look on her face all too well: annoyance. Yep, she was irritated with him already.

  “Wow … I just told you that I loved you, in case you missed that. But thanks for reminding me that I am indeed, supposed to be a man.”

  She made a face. “You’re supposed to be a role model.”

  He flailed around in frustration. “I’m not ‘supposed to be a role model,’ and even if I was, I think I did a good job. A lot of guys would have kicked his ass.”

  “I wouldn’t be with any of those guys.”

  He sat there staring at the wall, feeling his anger drain away into sadness. “So … I guess you don’t love me then?”

  “Why are you putting this kind of pressure on me right now?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just … when I told you I loved you, I thought you’d say it back, that’s all.”

  “How can you love me? You barely even know me. You just haven’t had time to hate me yet.”

  “I could never hate you.”

  “No one ever thinks they will. Why do you think people get divorced? Right now, you make me feel beautiful because that’s how you see me. And it’s easy for me to like you, because when you feel beautiful, you have a lot more love to give. But what about when you realize I’m not beautiful? What about when you decide that I’m actually a bitch? What then?”

  “Why would I ever think that? I’ve never seen you be a bitch. You’re not even being a bitch now, when you’re on your period. Although I do think that maybe it would be better if we postpone this conversation—”

  “I’m not built for a long-term relationship, Devin. That makes people think I’m a bitch.”

  “People? What people?”

  “This is why I told you that I wanted to take it slow. Guys have driven me away by being too clingy before.”

  “Cl—that’s what you think I’m doing? Getting clingy? Okay.” He got up and walked toward the door, stopping and spinning around. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you just talking about meeting each other’s parents?”

  “Maybe we will. Who knows?”

  “We know because we talked about it. Most people would take the desire to meet the parents as an indication you were at least somewhat interested in a long-term relationship.”

  “I am interested.”

  “Then what?”

  “I just don’t see the point of rushing things. I mean really, what’s your plan? You take off to the other side of the world to party it up while I sit here waiting?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Why would you assume that?”

  “Either you’d be partying or you’d be going without partying because of me. And no matter what, I’d be back here, alone. What’s the point in being with someone if you aren’t with them?”

  “You aren’t listening,” he said, touching her chin. “I’m telling you that I love you. If you don’t love me back, fine, whatever. But if you’re saying you could and the only thing stopping you is me leaving, well … I haven’t bought my ticket yet.”

  He shut his eyes, fearing what would happen if he opened them. All it would take was a smile to block the disappointment from his heart. One smile, telling him there was
a chance that this happiness was something more than an illusion. One smile, and the last bit of his need to go to India would go down the toilet. It would be so easy. Just smile.

  “But Devin … You can’t not go to India.”

  No. Of course not.

  “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. I don’t have to go to India. It was just a random thing, an idea I clung to because I had no idea what else a person is supposed to do during an existential crisis. But now it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I could not go at all. I could go for a few weeks and then come back to you. It would be nothing, in the long run.”

  “But the whole point was to be free and have an adventure. You think you can do that with a girl waiting at home? With a time limit?”

  He stared at the wall, chewing on his fingernail. “You were really counting on getting rid of me huh?”

  “No,” she said. “But you have this opportunity. It seems crazy to turn it down.”

  “Why?” he said. “You just did. A lot of people do. I guess they all must be insane. They wake up every day, they eat breakfast, they go to work, they come home, and at the end of the night while they’re lying in bed they’re like ‘Oh hey, guess what I didn’t do today? I didn’t get on a plane and go to India. Look how crazy I am!’”

  “But you don’t want to be like those people, remember?”

  He let himself slide off the edge of the bed, landing in a lump on the floor. Why had he ever started this godforsaken conversation?

  She knelt next to him. “Do you think I haven’t thought about what’s going to happen? Because I have. A lot. I didn’t bring it up to you because I knew as soon as we talked about it, everything would change.”

  “You’re far wiser than I.”

  “There’s just no way for it to work. Either you leave me and go on this trip, or, you give up on it for me, which puts all this pressure on me to somehow be worth it. It’s just a disaster waiting to happen.”

  He looked at her. “Then what have you been doing with me? Seriously, what was all that bullshit about meeting my dad? You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.”

  “I mean it,” she said. “I just can’t commit to it. I tried to tell you I’m not a good girlfriend.”