Gazelle

by Bello, Gloria

  “No, it’s a good idea. It’s a great idea. Please, tell me.”

  “Well, she didn’t want you to know, so….it’skind of a pickle, really. I can’t betray my friend’s confidence but, really you could just…”

  “I can just go into the depot and find out.”

  “Yep, exactly. She’s going back to Oakland.”

  Julian nods, immediately pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing CeCe.

  “She doesn’t want you to go after her.”

  “I know. I understand that,” Julian mumbles.

  “No, man, I don’t think you do. She really doesn’t. See, I think you have this big romantic scene in your head, where you tell her you love her and she says I love you and you guys live happily ever after. But that’s not what she wants, you hear me? Alice isn’t like that. Don’t you know that by now?”

  Julian frowns, his phone to his ear. “CeCe…let me call you right back. What do you mean? What do you mean she’s not like that?”

  “The worst possible thing you could have done is this, right now, chasing her down. Sure, it’s super hot and, like, what girl wouldn’t totally buy it and fall into your arms, right? But that’s exactly why she wouldn’t. She’d think, in the back of her mind, you were acting, taking the easy way out, and that you would wake up tomorrow looking for the next script. Shewould never trust it was real. Ever.”

  Julian stares at the slight man in complete bewilderment. He was absolutely right. He had been blindly flying through each scene, constructed according to everything he knew, trying to get to his motivation. And now, faced with reality, he had no idea what to do.

  “Then what? Let her go?” he asks softly.

  “Yeah, man. Let her go. Let her find her footing. She’s not the type of person who handles conflict like that well. Shit got real between you two. She loves you, I’ve never actually seen her love anybody, including Anthony. She’s scared shitless and all this, with you, it’s too much. Let her get her footing, let her come to you.”

  “What if she doesn’t?”

  “Well, that’s the risk, isn’t it? That’s what makes it so very, truly, gut-wrenchingly exciting in the end.”

  Julian looks down the street, to the rows of car lights disappearing into building, disappearing with her in tow. He feels so insignificant and free, like the day he stood beside her in her world, blending into the background and disappearing into the set, as if never to existed at all. He is stripped of his shield, his character, and understands the absence is now her, and it is truly unbearable to imagine.

  Alice groans and rolls the espresso press in her hand, locking it in place and hitting the button. Her hair is cropped into a shoulder length bob that falls perfectly around her high cheeks and soft jaw line. Her thick, black glasses slide down her nose as she foams milk against the wand. She pushes them up again and yawns, leaning her head against the machine as it dispenses espresso in the tiny, metal cups at either spout heads. She pours it into the mug, fills it with foam, and then weighs it in her hand.

  “Look at that! New World Record! Lightest dry cap ever! My life’s ambition realized at last. I think I’m seriously gonnaretire early, kids. There’s just nothing more to live for,” she smiles proudly.

  Her coworkers grin up at her.

  “Dry Cap, extra, extra dry. Like, the Sahara dry.”

  A woman in her late 30s with a small dog in her arms comes to the counter and smiles her appreciation, taking the drink and shuffling away. Alice yawns again, and stretches. “Next victim!”

  “Triple soy latte, no foam,” her coworker calls back to her. “Why are you so tired? What’d you do last night?”

  “I went to a party in SF last night. One of those warehouse thingies. It was fun, sort of. I think I might be getting too old. Like, if I was thizzin’, I would have felt it, I suppose. But I don’t like that shit, so it was just loud dub step and a few beers.”

  “Who’d you go with?”

  “Aaron, his man, Mark, and a couple of other people. It was okay. I gave it a try. My mom’s been on my case to get out more. She’s sick of my face.”

  The cashier tisks. “No, she’s not.”

  “She is. She threatened to put me up for adoption the other night. I told her her fideos were hella crunchy, like, not cooked all the way kind of crunchy. She told me that she was sick of my face and that the next time I complained she was gonnaleave me on the doorsteps of St. Andrew’s so a nice white couple would adopt me and feed me the gringo food I like so much.”

  Her coworkers all laugh as she turns around and starts making the drink. After six months, her life is completely normal again. Los Angeles seems like a dream, like a distant part of history that happened to someone else. She spoke with Trina, Will and Chris every so often, none of them ever mentioning him. She promised to visit them soon, feeling almost ready to return. And with the exception of his latest release, she never let herself think about him. His movie was good, really good. Watching him on the screen was surreal. It wasn’t him, it was like another person wearing his face and body. She felt no connection to that person up there, no heartbreak or longing, no regret. Part of it was her not allowing herself those luxuries. Another part of it was that he transformed himself on the screen so completely that it was not recognizable as himself. Like a great actor would.

  “Triple soy latte! Extra foam!” she says, swinging around with the drink.

  The customer frowns and looks from the cashier to her. She winks and grins,“Gotcha. No foam, Larry, I know.”

  Larry chuckles and shakes his head before taking his drink and leaving.

  “Next!”

  “Double cap, almond milk, dry.”

  “Oooo, a challenge. You got it. What about you, did you do anything last night, Marsh?”

  The cashier, a flamboyant, eccentric young boy riddled with piercings and bright, red hair ponders the question as he counts change. “Hm, sort of. I went with Tiger to get his nipples pierced. Then we drank forties off the pier. And then we took Bart up to Triad, and I made out with a hot boy and his boyfriend in the bathroom. And then Tiger’s nipples swelled up over the piercings and we went to the emergency room because he would not stop crying. They gave him some antibiotics and took out the piercings. Pretty normal shit, I guess.” His customers all look at one another in awkward astonishment, trying to appear unaffected.

  “Are you kidding right now?” Alice laughs. “They took the piercings out!?That’s like, 80 bucks down the drain!”

  “Try 160! He got them both done! He was so bummed. He begged them not to do it but literally, it was like he had two little titties puffing up on his chest. Any longer and I woulda had to take him to Walmartto get a training bra. Can I help you?”

  He hits the counter twice, a signal to them all that an attractive customer is at bat. Very slyly, the girls move towards him and steal glances, judging the hotness for themselves. Alice smirks, struggling with the almond milk.

  “Damn almond milk never foams right,” she growls without looking up.

  “Hey,” Erin, her coworker whispers to her,“you have to see this one.”

  “I’m-in the middle of something. This milk won’t give it up!...Hey, take the next one, okay?”

  “Oh, for sure,” Erin grins. “Next victim!”

  “Iced green tea, large, no sweetness!” Marsh calls.

  Alice frowns and drops the pitcher. “Dammit!”

  She grabs another and fills it up quickly, calming herself, and focusing. She rests the pitcher against the wand, pulling it gently until a nice foam builds.

  “That’s right, baby. Gimmethat head,” she murmurs. She quickly pours the drink into its cup and wipes her hands on her apron.

  “Double cap, almond dry!”

  She turns and smiles triumphantly, the blood rushing from her as her eyes lock on Julian’s. The customer pushes up to the counter and reaches for the drink. She holds onto it, even as the customer grabs and pulls. Her eyes blink and she looks at the co
nfused customer.

  “I’m sorry. Here you go.”

  He moves away, leaving Julian and Alice facing one another. Julian smiles and drops his gaze. He is thinner, not as muscular, almost lanky now. His hair slicked back is long, stringy, hanging around his ears, down to the light stubble across his jaw. He wears a black jacket and a t-shirt over jeans. Nothing fancy, nothing glamorous, but still radiant. Her coworkers, realizing they know one another, slowly come to a stop, watching them.

  Alice is the first to speak. Her brow furrows. She tucks the loose curl of her short hair behind her ears. Her heart beats fast and hard, her mind twisting with the exposure and vulnerability of the situation.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Green ice tea, large, unsweetened,” Erin says, coming up alongside her. Alice shoots her a look and Erin slinks back.

  Julian reaches slowly for the drink and draws it into his chest, his free hand tucked into his pocket, trying to make him look unaffected. The sight of her leaves him completely unable to focus, to calm himself. He has practice the speech a thousand times, rehearsed again and again in front of the mirror, in front of CeCe, in front of anyone who would listen. And now, his mouth runs dry, his lines fade away. He blinks against the twinkling café lighting, watching her scowling silhouette, her adorable head and large, fierce eyes behind those silly frames. He hadn’t counted on her being so real. He feels the stares, the audience, stripping him of his character completely beneath her gaze. Yet, outwardly, he seems so self-assured and confident, not a single part of him out of place. “I came to get a tea.”

  “Yes, I see that. Well, you got your tea…so…”

  “You cut your hair.”

  “Yep.”

  “It looks good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You look happy. This is a great place.”

  “It is…and I am. How are you?”

  “Terrible.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Well, you don’t look it. I can’t imagine you ever looking terrible, though, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I am. I miss you.”

  She stops and bites her upper lip, scowling, tilting her head up similar to Rolando’s manner but in a much cuter way that melts him. Her coworkers struggle to return to work while still eyeing them. The customers around them gap openly, completely riveted by the scene.

  “Well, that must be hard. But I don’t really want to discuss this now. I’m at work.”

  “I know,” he nods, glancing around. “I’m sorry about that, I really am. This incredibly awkward and uncomfortable for both of us, believe me. I know you hate it. I know making a scene is the last thing you’d want. But there’s a reason this is such a cliché, I think. I know this is the only way you will talk to me. You can’t run away here.”

  “I don’t have to run away.”

  “You don’t have to, you’re right. But you won’t talk to me any other way, either. I know you won’t. I know, because I’ve been waiting for you, ever since you left. And honestly, I just couldn’t wait one more second. I waited for you to call or write or something, anything. Nothing. Not a word, like we never knew each other, ever. Which isn’t possible. Since I hadn’t heard from you, despite our definitely knowing one another and you promising to contact me once I gave you your space, I started to worry.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Right. I started to worry that maybe I made the wrong choice.”

  “What choice? You mean Sharleen?”

  “No, not Sharleen, nothing to do with Sharleen. I mean, letting you go. You told me that if you loved someone, really loved someone, you would do everything and anything in your power to protect that love. Not them, necessarily, but the love you shared with them. It took awhile for me to understand what you meant by that, probably longer than it should have. When you left, at first, I thought it was just because I was a dick and-”

  “Which it was. Mostly.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Absolutely. I fucked up big time.”

  “Really badly. Like,…so bad...”

  “I know. I was a complete and total coward, asshole prick, I know. And I am truly sorry for that. But I didn’t realize it until you left. And I thought that it was the only reason. So I let you go, let you have your space, chose not to chase you down, tell you how much I love you and want to be with you. But time passed and I thought, if it was just because I was a dick, you would have texted or called, or something. You and Anthony were together for a long time and he did you dirty, and yet you still tried to be friends with him. So I started to realize you weren’t just leaving because you were pissed. You weren’t leaving just because I was a dick. You left to protect the love. You left before I could fuck up what we had any worse than I had already.”

  She looks away, her cheeks flushing, completely unaware of the silence around her, watching them.

  “Alice, I am so, so sorry. And I love you. Very much so.”

  She nods and studies the counter. A long, uncomfortable silence follows, so long, Julian begins to sweat. His eyes don’t leave her, though, waiting with everyone else around them. A slow chill washes over her, the color drains from her flushed cheeks. She raises her head and studies the audience, staring at her naked before them, a glassy, far away look in their eyes as they anticipate her lines, scrutinizing her expression, her clothes, her body language down to every miniscule detail. This is the part where she is supposed to forgive him. This is the part where she leaps over the counter and they kiss and everyone applauds. Her eyes widen, she feels her heart in her ears, beating harder and faster, looking back to her coworkers for support. The same glassy look from them, she realizes she is alone. She looks at him, into him, the only one whose expression she cannot read. Michael’s words return, she imagines them filming her and Julian with their phones, and sees a few of them doing just that, filming them, filming her, standing behind Julian, holding up their phones and filming her reaction. Her face wrinkles and before she can cry, she bolts towards the door, running at full speed from a stunned room.

  “Shit,” Julian whispers, dropping his tea and running after her.

  Alice weaves up the streets of downtown Berkeley, running as fast as her legs will move. She clutches her glasses, tears running down her face. The short, black skirt she wears flaps against her thighs. Her hair is a blurry halo of black. Her heart races, her mind screams, forcing her forward and away, blinders blocking the faces of confused, concerned pedestrians she passes.

  “Alice! Stop!” Julian leaps forward, chasing her. He is much faster and taller, catching up to her quicker than she anticipated. No matter how fast she runs, he is on her heels, weaving and dodging up Shattuck. She is completely panicked, sick with fear now. She hears him panting behind her, on her neck. As they reach Shattuck Cinema, he catches her arm and yanks her still.

  “No!” she screams, struggling to pull herself free. “No, you don’t get it! You don’t get everything you want!”

  “You want it, too! Why won’t you see that?”

  “I do see it, I see it fine!” she glares at him, panting. “I see it better than you do, even. What we want is not the same thing! You want me to live with you, back there, under their cameras and lights. No privacy, no intimacy. You want to make scenes with me like you just did and think that that’s enough and it’s not, it’s not fucking real!”

  “No,” he says shaking his head vigorously,“no that’s not what I want. That’s what you’re afraid of. It’s not like that-”

  “Bullshit! I know it is, I saw it. The whole time I worked for you, I saw it, don’t tell me I didn’t. That’s your reality, back in that mansion with that bitch girlfriend and everyone adoring you!”

  “No! Goddamn it, what you saw wasn’t real for me, either! That wasn’t my reality! I’ve been searching desperately for what’s real, that’s what drew me to you. Do you remember that day I spent with you, paying your bills? Remember that day?”
/>   She says nothing, still glaring at him.

  “That day was real, Alice. Every moment like that day, every moment you and I spent together that felt like that day was real! The joking, the laughing, the-just lounging around with one another, talking shit and being ourselves, that was real. You are real…you’re my reality. That night,” he says, moving closer to her,“that night I picked you up off the freeway. That was real. The night you held me,comforted me, that was real. I fucked up because I didn’t want to believe it, it was too painful and scary, I was a coward and I’m sorry. Everything else was the lie, you understand, I know it was, I knew all along. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Don’t you see that?”

  “I do,” she nods. “I also know that as long as you are who you are, we have to live in that lie, real or not. And I can’t. I love you, Julian, I do. I love you so much…but Mike was right. I can’t live under the lens.”

  “What did Mike say?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He was right. I can’t spend my life, worrying about whether my zits are gonnashow up on some douchebag’s cell phone picture he took of us trying to have a romantic night out. Or if my ass looks too fat for you to be escorting down the red carpet. Or if I have to see our wedding pictures at the fucking check out standnext to the gum and candy! I can’t risk ruining us over stupid shit like that.”

  “Then you’re a coward, too.”

  Her head snaps up, shocked. He looks down at her, his hands on his hips, his eyes blazing.

  “I’m not a coward,” she says softly.

  “Yes, you are. Look, I trust you, completely. You tell me to quit acting,I’ll do it, right now, because I know you’d only tell me that if you thought it was hurting me. You tell me not to trust someone, or to watch my back, you tell me something is shit, I’lllisten because you’re the strongest, most honest person I’ve ever met. And if you say that you love me, then that means you trust me to love you back, and protect you in my own way, too. Trust me to make sure,when it comes down to it, you won’t give a shit about anybody else and their shitty drive-thru pictures of you. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. If you love me, like you say you do, then you’ll stare into that future without batting an eye because you know I’m right behind you, always. I promise.”