“You get in a fight?”
I finally removed my hands from my face and looked at Eric. “Not exactly.”
After I explained what happened, leaving out the reason Hille said we were not a good match, Eric stared at me in disbelief. “You’re a piece of work, Steph,” he said. “You complain all these years that you can’t meet a guy you really like who likes you back, you finally meet one and you dump him for Hille? You guys have nothing in common except mutual friends. Horrible couple. You’re nuts.”
“I know. I’ve just liked him for so long. I guess I thought it meant something,” I said.
Looking at me questionably, Eric asked, “You’ve liked him for so long?”
I told Eric about my college crush. First he laughed and then he yelled at me for never telling him. Then he asked if I still liked Hille.
“No. I like Ryan,” I said. “Seriously, if God could create the perfect guy for me, it would be Ryan. Well, from what I know about him so far. We’re still in the honeymoon stage.” I paused. “Correction. We were in the honeymoon stage.” I started sobbing again.
“Stop it!” Eric yelled. “Just call Ryan and apologize.”
The tears stopped. I hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think he’d take me back?”
Scratching his head, Eric said, “I don’t know. What you did was totally fucked up, Steph. But if you like him as much as you say...”
“I do!”
“And if he likes you as much as you like him, he might forgive you. It’s worth a shot,” he said.
Excited, I went to grab my phone from the coffee table but Eric covered my hand with his. “Not now, Steph. You can’t call him in the middle of the night. Wait till tomorrow.”
“You sure?” I really wanted to call him now.
“I’m sure. Go to sleep and call him in the morning.” He got up and started walking toward his room.
“Okay. Thanks, Eric. I love you,” I said.
“I love you too. Now stop crying and get some sleep.”
I wasn’t tired at all but figured the sooner I went to bed, the sooner I could wake up and call Ryan. I couldn’t wait to apologize and get it over with. I wanted to see him. And hug him. And kiss him. And have sex with him. Yes, definitely that last one. I wondered why I thought sex was so great with Hille when it was amazing with Ryan. Hille wasn’t even that good. I just thought he was because I was so damn into him! Ryan was so much better. Sex with Ryan reminded me of the Fleetwood Mac song ‘You Make Loving Fun.’ I was going to start crying again. I couldn’t bear another minute of him thinking I didn’t like him anymore.
I looked at the clock. It was 1:47. Ryan liked to sleep late on Saturday mornings and so I didn’t want to call him before 11:00. That meant I had at least 9 hours and 13 minutes before I could call him. I hoped he wasn’t out late, especially if he was on a date. I had to apologize before he met someone else! Sure, the chances of him meeting someone else in the 24 hours since we’d broken up were slim, but what if his buddies took him out with the sole purpose of getting him laid? Oh God, what if he was fucking someone right now? Why hadn’t he called me all day? Did he even care that I broke up with him? My stomach hurt. My heart hurt. Everything hurt and my breathing was labored. There was no point even trying to fall asleep. It wasn’t gonna happen.
I dragged the comforter off my bed and brought it with me into the living room where I curled on the couch and turned on the television. I kept the volume low so I wouldn’t wake Eric and Jess. I never understood people who liked to stay up all night watching television. There was never anything good on. I settled on an old episode of ‘Dallas’ on Soapnet. I couldn’t believe I used to love such a stupid show. And Charlene Tilton was freakishly short. I turned the TV off, flipped over on my side in the fetal position with my face towards the couch and imagined Ryan holding me. I could almost feel my smaller frame wrapped in his larger one, his hands covering mine and his breath in my ear gently lulling me to sleep.
With that image in mind, my heart slowly stopped racing, my breathing returned to normal and finally, I fell asleep.
Fifty-one
I woke with a jolt and immediately checked the time—8:11. There was no way I could wait another two hours and 49 minutes to call Ryan. I had to do it now. If anything, he’d appreciate my eagerness. No one seemed to be up yet, but it was about that time. Paul would probably come farting up the stairs any minute now. I took my phone outside to the front porch, just like two days earlier. This time I skipped the vodka shot and cigarette, although the shot was tempting. With a mixture of excitement and sheer terror, I stared at Ryan’s name on my phone contemplating whether to hit ‘send.’ The last time I was this nervous was the night I threw myself at Hille in New York. And I cried myself to sleep that night. This was different. I’d be fine. I just had to suck it up for a few minutes while I apologized. But then he’d accept my apology, we’d laugh about it and I’d see him tomorrow night like originally planned. Just a few minutes of pain and then everything would be back to normal. I knew I could do it and, with that, I crossed my fingers, hit send and closed my eyes while I waited for the phone to ring and for Ryan to pick up.
I was vaguely aware I was holding my breath for the first two rings. Halfway through the third ring, I wondered if his voicemail would pick up. I couldn’t hang up—he’d know I’d called. Fourth ring—maybe the initial apology over voicemail wasn’t a bad thing. It could break the ice. Voicemail. I listened to him tell me he wasn’t available but would call me back as soon as he could, heard the beep and took a deep breath.
“Hey Ryan, it’s me, Stephanie. I know it’s early and you’re probably sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up or anything but I had to call you and just couldn’t wait any longer. I feel so incredibly stupid, Ryan. I made a huge mistake. I don’t know what was going through my mind when I broke up with you but it’s the last thing I want to do. When you get this, please call me, okay? I really want to talk to you and apologize. I’m still in North Carolina, leaving tomorrow but I have my cell.” I glanced at the phone in my hand. “Obviously. Okay, talk to you soon. Okay…bye.”
After I hung up, I stared at the phone and analyzed the message I’d left. At least I hadn’t stuttered or said “um” a million times. It could’ve been worse, but it could’ve been better and I forgot to tell him that he made loving fun. I thought about calling him back but decided against it. He’d get the message when he woke up and would call me back. I just had to wait it out.
But what if his phone was broken and he never got the message? Or what if he lost his phone while he was out with his friends last night? Or what if the girl he was fucking deleted the message? I realized I was sweating and went back inside to take a shower, but then decided to wait a little while in case Ryan called. My legs were still shaking and I was afraid I’d pass out in the shower anyway.
Jess and Eric were sitting on my couch/bed.
Gesturing toward the pillow and comforter now on the floor, Eric asked, “Did you sleep here?”
“Uh, huh,” I said.
“Why?”
“I couldn’t fall asleep in my bed so I came out to watch television and just fell asleep. What’s the big deal?”
“I take it by your ‘tude that you haven’t spoken to Ryan yet?”
Not sure who I was trying to convince, I said, “I left him a message. He’s probably sleeping, though. It’s really early and he likes to sleep late on weekends—like me.” I dramatically plopped myself on the other couch, stretched my feet on the coffee table and whined, “I wish he’d call me back already!”
Looking confused, Jess asked, “What’s the urgency?”
I looked at Eric. “You tell her. I need some air.” I stood back up and started walking toward the balcony before I realized I forgot something, did an about-face and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. As I headed outside, I pretended not to see Eric shaking his head at me.
The morning hours passed pretty quickly and when Ryan didn’t call, I remained r
elatively calm. I even pretended to help Hille make French toast. As it approached 11, I became very anxious knowing Ryan was probably going to wake up soon and call me back. I kept my eye on my phone even as I put on my bathing suit for our last day on the beach.
While on the beach, I didn’t drink any beers because I didn’t want to be drunk when he called. And I didn’t listen to my Ipod because I wanted to hear the phone when it rang. And since I sat up every five seconds to make sure my phone was charged, I was pretty much guaranteed to leave the Outer Banks with an uneven tan.
I couldn’t sit still. “Going to dip my feet in the water,” I said. “Anyone want to come?”
Standing up, Hope said, “I’ll go with you.”
Denise was lying stomach down on her beach towel but flipped over and said, “Me too.”
“I guess it’s a girl thing. Count me in.” Jess stood up and extended her hand to help me up. “Let’s go chicky.”
Grabbing her hand and pulling myself up, I said, “Cool.” I bent down to pick up my phone but Eric took it before I had a chance.
“Leave your phone here, Steph. A watched phone doesn’t ring,” he insisted. “And with your luck, you’ll end up dropping it in the ocean.”
I was reluctant to part with my phone, but knew he was right. If I dropped the phone in the water, it would probably break and I’d never get Ryan’s call. I couldn’t bear that and so I threw the phone in my bag and leaned down to kiss Eric on the cheek. “Thanks,” I said.
Arms locked, Jess and I walked towards the water. “I don’t know what I’d do without your husband, Jess. He’s my voice of reason.”
“My honey is pretty awesome, isn’t he?”
“That he is. Ryan’s pretty awesome too, but Eric is da-bomb!”
When we got to the edge of the water, we stopped walking. Hope and Denise had ventured out further and were riding the waves. I tried to erase the memory of riding the waves with Hille and thinking it meant he loved me.
Jess turned to me with a serious expression on her face. “Eric told me what happened with Ryan. Sorry, Steph.”
I forced a smile and said, “It’ll be fine. We’ll straighten everything out once he calls me back.” The smile fading, I added, “I just wish he’d call me back already. I’m losing it.”
“Try not to think about it,” Jess said.
“Easier said than done!”
“I know. Maybe you should drink a beer to relax.” Patting her growing belly, she laughed and said, “Wish I could.”
“You’re right. He’ll call when he calls. In the meantime, I don’t want to waste my last day on the beach obsessing over it.”
“That’s my girl. Let’s go. My feet are sufficiently cooled off now.”
“Mine too,” I said.
When we returned to our chairs, I immediately went to check my phone.
Eric whispered, “It didn’t ring.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I said, “Oh well. No biggie.” Then I grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat down. I looked over at Hille listening to his book on tape and tried not to hate him for ruining my life. It wasn’t his fault and even if he wasn’t gay, I still knew that breaking up with Ryan was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Far more stupid than the time I did a lap around Fraternity Row as fast as I could, believing Paul and Eric were really timing me. When I got back to the front of the Phi Alpha house, huffing and puffing and sweating profusely, they were both smoking cigarettes and when I asked them how long it took me, they pretended not to know what I was talking about. Yes, I was the second most gullible girl at my college. I didn’t know who was more gullible than me but there had to be someone.
I made a deal with myself that I wouldn’t look at my phone until I finished my beer.
Beer finished, I checked my phone, threw it back in my bag and asked, “What time is it?” I could have checked the time on my phone but didn’t want to look at it again so soon.
“Time to drink another beer,” Paul called out.
“That too, but what time is it really?”
Paul looked at his watch and said, “1:22.”
“Thanks,” I said. I decided not to check my phone until at least 2:22. “Hand me a beer, please someone.”
Two beers and three checks of my phone later, I was drunk from drinking on an empty stomach and Ryan still hadn’t called. We headed back to the house to pack to go home the next morning. We had pretty much finished off the alcohol and eaten most of the food so we decided to bring in Chinese for dinner. I wasn’t in the mood to eat. I also wasn’t in the mood to pack. I was only in the mood to wallow in self-pity. I was losing faith that Ryan was going to call. None of the excuses I had given him had much merit anymore. Sure, he might have had soccer practice that morning but it should’ve been over by now. And even if it was his father’s birthday, he could’ve taken a few minutes to call me back. And, yes, there was a .00000001% chance that he didn’t get my message, but he probably had. My only hope was he was purposely making me suffer by waiting until later to call. After what I’d done, I could live with that.
I wasn’t hungry but I sat with the others at the kitchen table. I grabbed the container of lo mein, poured some into my plate and started eating. When I was finished, I took some more. I wondered what Ryan was eating for dinner and if he was thinking about me. I wanted him to call me back more than anything in the whole world.
“Steph!”
I looked up from my plate to find everyone staring at me. “What?”
“Stop bogarting the lo mein,” Paul said.
Confused, I said, “Huh?”
Speaking to me like I was a deaf child, Paul repeated, “Please Pass The Lo Mein.”
“Oh.” I picked up the container and was about to pass it down to Paul at the end of the table when I noticed it was empty. “There’s nothing left,” I said.
“You ate the entire thing? I thought you weren’t hungry,” Paul said.
“I didn’t eat it all!” I insisted.
Paul stood up. “Raise your hand if you ate any lo mein tonight?”
I raised my hand and looked around the room. No one else’s hand was up. “Sorry guys. I eat when I’m nervous,” I said.
“What are you nervous about, Cohen?” Paul asked.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you eating like a fucking pig?”
“Because I feel like it. Go to hell, Paul. You’ve been a complete prick to me this entire week. I can’t wait to get the fuck away from you tomorrow!” With that, I left the table and went outside to the balcony, slamming the sliding door behind me. I was afraid to look inside the house and knew they were talking about me. I lit one of the cigarettes Eric had left outside and took a deep drag. I promised myself when I got home, I wouldn’t have another cigarette for at least a month. But I smoked when I was pissed. And I smoked when I felt out of control. And I was both pissed and out of control. Plus, smoking was less fattening than eating. Not that anyone was likely to see me naked in the near future. I heard the squeak of the sliding door, looked up and saw Paul standing in front of me.
He smiled softly and said, “The door could use a little WD40, huh?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“You hate me, Cohen?”
“Not really. But you must admit you’ve been quite the dick to me this week,” I said.
Paul sat next to me. “That’s my job! You’re like my kid sister. I’m supposed to tease you. And by the way, I’ve been reasonably well-behaved, considering the little stunt you pulled yesterday on the beach.”
“Stunt I pulled? You started it! And besides, I already have an older brother and he hasn’t been that mean to me since I was about twelve. And I never slept with him.”
“Thanks for confirming that piece of information. I’d always wondered about you two.”
I hit Paul on the leg. “Shut up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m in a fight with Ryan,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it.
”
“Okay. You don’t have to,” Paul said.
“I think we’re over,” I said.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I’m a complete fuck-up, that’s why.” When Paul opened his mouth to speak, I put my hand against it and said, “I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm, Paul!”
Paul brushed my hand aside. “All I was gonna say is that couples fight. Look at me and Hope. One minute she wants to cut off my balls and the next she’s...”
Laughing I said, “Massaging them?”
“And they say I’m the pervert.”
“This is different. We’ve only been dating about two months. I don’t have much goodwill in the bank.”
Just Friends With Benefits Page 25