Just As Much

by Noelle R. Henry

  “And this isn’t stressful? Tell him how you feel, Fee,” Nat adds. Hell no. I ignore her.

  “Maybe if I drown myself in perfume and spend my savings on Sephora and…what am I even saying. If I wanted him I could have had him a long time ago,” I say exasperated.

  “Fee if you sleep with Damian, it’s done. How fast did that girl leave in the morning?” Mere says.

  “Pretty quick. And the way he just callously lied to her about calling her was utterly disgusting. Nothing like the real Damian.” I shouldn’t lie though, I had seen that speech before, a couple times even, as I would knock on Damian’s door and hear him give it to the girl while I waited outside to get our coffee. It shouldn’t surprise me.

  “Or maybe it is the real Damian,” Meredith mutters.

  “Mere. Not. Helping,” Natalie shouts at her.

  “Guys, I am fine. Unless you are great at research methods, then there is really nothing you can do to help me. Because this first assignment is a bitch.”

  “Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Natalie says.

  “Tempting offer, but I really need to just get over myself,” I say smiling.

  They stay with me as I figure out two of my readings and call it a day.

  “I am going to head home,” I say starting to pack up.

  “I’ve got practice,” Natalie says. “Call us if you need us, Fee.”

  “You got it,” I say.

  We all walk out and Meredith heads to her work study job at the university police station.

  “Call. Seriously Fee,” she says.

  “Reality checks. I’ve got it,” I say letting Zeke go out before we trudge back to the apartment.

  I walk in and Damian is sitting on the couch working on his own homework. When I come in he grins and puts his stuff down. This would be so much easier if he didn’t turn into a completely different person when it is just us.

  “Hey Baby Girl,” he says getting up and walking over to me as I let Zeke out of his gear.

  “Damian,” I say, walking over to put more water in Zeke’s dish.

  “Uh oh, what’s wrong?” he asks following me into the kitchen.

  “Nothing, homework kicked my ass,” I say giving an apologetic smile.

  “Well, why don’t we order some Chinese food and I’ll help you,” he says sitting at the bar.

  “I really don’t feel like working on it anymore,” I say not looking at him and going to the fridge to get a class of juice.

  “Then just Chinese food then,” he says.

  “Don’t you have plans tonight?” I say with my back turned. I am desperately trying to hide any ounce of judgment or worse, jealousy, in my voice.

  “The guys wanted to go out again, but I could cancel,” he says.

  “Don’t cancel on my account. Go out. Have fun. I still have two more readings to do and this stuff is already pretty over my head,” I say.

  “So, you are going to start it now. On Saturday?” he says in disbelief.

  “Yep,” I say turning around and drinking my juice. I look him in the eye—he seems disappointed.

  “You just said you were tired of working on it,” he says looking at me. He is trying here, and I know I am acting way out of character. I just can’t. I can’t right now.

  “I just should probably get it done,” I say drinking my juice.

  “Come on, hang out with me tonight. You’re crabby,” he says.

  “I didn’t get much sleep,” I say rolling my eyes. I sip my drink, using my trick so I don’t show my cards or say something a jealous girlfriend would say. Not like it is working.

  “Kyra was kind of loud. I am sorry,” he says grimacing.

  I sip. Keep your fucking to a minimum then, asshole.

  “It’s no problem, I just think I need to relax and take it easy tonight, go to bed early. Go out with your friends, tell them I said hi,” I say heading to my room.

  No more than twenty minutes later he knocks on my door and then comes in. I already changed into my sweats and an old t-shirt. Definitely not what he is used to, I look like a greasy ass homeless person. He is used to playboy bunnies. I am feeling fairly inadequate and self-conscious as he looks at me.

  He has Chinese food in hand. He hands me a container and chopsticks and sits on my bed next to me.

  “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” I say shaking my head.

  “Relax, I am going to go out tonight, we just aren’t leaving until ten. You seemed like you had a rough day. I just thought Chinese and a Netflix break would suit you well,” he says genuinely.

  “I said I didn’t want to do Chinese tonight,” I say, but I take a bite of the lo mein he handed me anyway.

  “Yet, here you are, eating it,” he says laying down next to me with his own white container.

  I look at him. Turning him down right now would feel like swatting the nose of a puppy. A cute, adorable puppy who can’t keep it in his pants. I sigh.

  “Get your laptop or we will be waiting forever for mine to load,” I say rolling my eyes. He grins and goes to the next room to get his computer.

  “So, what put you in such a grumpy ass mood today?” he says putting the laptop between us and starting it up.

  “Like I said, homework,” I say shrugging.

  He turns on Santa Clarita Diet and we watch it together.

  “God, I am eating Damian,” I say as Drew Barrymore casually eats that guy from Castle.

  “That’s so fucking awesome,” he says not even grimacing.

  For just a few minutes I forget about Kylee or Kaylee or whomever the heck she is and Damian’s escapades. For a few minutes, I just remember us, and how fun it is to hang out with him. I can do this. We needed this. Both of us have been acting too weird since we got here.

  We watch several episodes and I feel myself falling asleep, but I let it happen. When I wake up, my blanket is on me, there is a note saying that he took Zeke out, and there is a hole in my chest—I have become that girl now. The girl that sees how terrible the guy is to other women but doesn’t give a shit because he makes her feel all tingly inside. And I do. I do feel all tingly inside. Damnit.

  As Zeke and I get moving in the morning, Damian is shutting the door. Thank God. I missed whomever it was. I get me some water and feed Zeke.

  “Have fun?” I say.

  “Did she keep you up again? I am so sorry,” he says, but my heart breaks. He said again.

  “Again?” I say inquisitively, trying to act nonchalant.

  “She is fine with just having some fun,” he says with a smile. I sip my water.

  “I’ll need two bucks then,” I say with a fake smile.

  “What for?” he asks.

  “Ear plugs,” I say trying to make light of the situation. How long until the Greek Goddess becomes an actual thing? He doesn’t date—but he also never calls a girl back.

  Couchgate

  Coffee with Matt on Tuesdays is my favorite part of the week. He is really easy to talk to and, unlike Meredith and Nat (God love them), he does not judge me for ranting about Damian.

  “Fuck buddy. He has a fuck buddy,” I say sitting down with my coffee.

  “Well, hello Fee. How are you?” he says laughing.

  “I am serious, Mattie!”

  “One, don’t call me Mattie. Two, he has a fuck buddy?” he says. I kind of feel bad, technically I am tattling to Damian’s older brother, but I really don’t care.

  “I thought I could handle being at the apartment. I thought that seeing his antics would curb any attraction I have for the man. But no,” I say really fast.

  Matt laughs at me, “Slow down, Fee.”

  “Admittedly, this is not my first cup of coffee,” I say.

  “No. Really?” he says.

  “Things got real this weekend. That’s all. I actually heard him with someone else and saw him interact with her in the mornings and it just didn’t sit well with me,” I say.

  “I mean you knew what he was doing, Fe
e.”

  “Yes. But—God it hurt. I don’t know,” I say sipping.

  “Why don’t you tell Damian?” he says.

  “Because,” I say.

  “Because why?” he says.

  “Matt, I lov—like Damian and I know Damian likes me. We could date. But Damian obviously likes no strings and I am not a no strings person.”

  “Oh yea, the stupid deal you all made,” he says.

  “That stupid deal is the only reason I can be friends with him.”

  “That stupid deal is why you are miserable, Fee. Slow down on the coffee.”

  “What can I say Matt, I am an addict,” I say drinking more. He just shakes his head. I must say—Matt is starting to feel more and more like family every time we meet.

  “I really hate that girl,” I say to Meredith and Natalie as I tell them the story. I have been desperately trying to stay afloat since last weekend. Trying to make sure that I don’t think about Damian or Kyra, or any of it. As a result, I have spent the majority of my time avoiding Damian. Mostly at Nat and Mere’s. However, they have caught on and both are trying to get details.

  “You hate her because Damian likes her,” Meredith retorted.

  “She’s one of the ones that calls me charity slut,” I roll my eyes. “And Damian only likes what she lets him do,” I say eating one of their toaster pastries. I realized where I recognized Kyra today, she used to openly call me a slut when I passed her on campus.

  “So that is why you stayed the night,” Natalie says eyeing me.

  When Damian got home last night he was alone. He reached behind me and hugged me—saying that we never hang out anymore, but all I could smell was another girl’s perfume on him. He makes my heart hurt, so I just made an excuse and said I was staying at Mere and Nat’s.

  “It was Friday and I was hiding. Happy?” I say to the two of them.

  “You can stay here any weekend you would like,” Mere says to me and I nod.

  I couldn’t stay there and avoid Damian forever, so I head home around eleven, grabbing coffee for both Damian and me at the coffee cart. I need to try and pretend that I am okay or at least try and be civil.

  I head into the apartment with my headphones on and I immediately drop my coffee. I see Damian and Kyra—naked and in mid-throws on my futon. God, if I didn’t have my headphones in, I would have heard her, she is so, freaking, loud. I want to turn away, but the image is already burned in my brain and I can’t seem to get my brain to do anything else but look. They stop when they hear the door shut, and Kyra smiles when she looks at me—she keeps going, Damian has to stop her.

  I take my headphones out and Damian and her move to quickly cover themselves, Damian using one of the throw pillows.

  “Baby girl, shit, could you give us a few?” he says weakly.

  His immediate dismal and trying to get rid of me just adds to the pain. I try to hide the hurt. I really do but I can’t. That woman is awful. She is mean and—she has him. Jealousy, anger, sadness, guilt—all of them hit me and I feel myself tear up. This is too much. It is the final straw here. My brain finally catches up to my emotion and I turn away so that Damian doesn’t see them, but I have shown my cards here and I know it. I saw his shocked face before I put my head down.

  I feel Damian staring. I don’t talk because I know my voice will just give me away even more. Zeke is licking at the coffee on the floor and I don’t even move to stop him.

  “Kyra, let me drive you home,” he says softly.

  “What? We aren’t done here, Damian,” she whines.

  “Yea, we are,” he says, and I hear them get dressed. I just close my eyes.

  I hear her come up behind me.

  “You’re pathetic,” she whispers, and I cry harder and throw a towel on the floor.

  I walk into my room with Zeke still in full gear and my jacket still on and shut the door.

  I don’t openly sob until I hear the door shut.

  Things Change

  As if my fantasies weren’t enough, now I have real life images of Damian having sex in my head. I know that I am being ridiculous. I am the one who made the deal, but damnit—did it have to be the couch? My couch? Our futon? Did it have to be her? Again?

  They must have finished at her place, because he takes a while to get back. I calm myself down and then head to the living room. I cannot stay in my room all night and hide after seeing that, even if I wanted to, because I can’t have him speculating any more than he already does after seeing my reaction.

  He comes in and I hear him lay his keys and put his jacket up in the entryway. My heart rate skyrockets, but I focus on my work and my snack. Eat your yogurt, Fee.

  “What are you doing?” he asks me as I sit in our living room eating and working on my psych project. I am not letting seeing Damian have sex with someone bother me. Nope. I can do this. It is just Damian.

  “Stirring in the fruit in my yogurt?” I say softly from the chair. I refuse to sit on that couch. I don’t think I will ever sit on it again.

  I also refuse to look him in the eye. I am finding my yogurt difficult to swallow. I don’t know how to process the jealousy I am feeling. Damian just watches me carefully and sits down. I can tell by his tone he is planning on talking to me about it. Not today, Satan.

  “You are not supposed to stir Fage, it says it right on the side of the container,” he says to me. He sits as close to me as he possibly can, but on the couch. The ruined couch. He points to red lettering on the side.

  “Are you seriously telling me that I am eating my Greek yogurt wrong?” I say hoarsely. I was hardcore crying while he was taking her home, and my voice hasn’t recovered. I think he notices, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “Yes, look,” he says pointing again. “It changes the texture.”

  “So it does,” I say reading the label. I want to hate him again, but I can’t. Never could after our first encounter really. I can’t be in the room with him right now. I was wrong.

  “Are we okay?” He grabs my hand as I get up, and I hate the shock that goes up my arm and down my back making me shudder. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Freezing until he just let go. He doesn’t say anything about it. But something about the way he is looking at me—something has shifted, and I would rather put that specific cat back in the bag. I turn away and refuse to look at him again.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” I ask trying to keep my cool. I still wouldn’t look at him.

  “Well, we could start with the fact that you’re barely looking at me,” he says. He has me there.

  “I’ve seen enough of you today, thank you,” I say trying to sound like my snarky self—it sounds flat and pathetic.

  “Be serious,” he says not taking my humor. He wants answers, but he isn’t ready for answers. Tell him I am jealous and then what? It’s not like he can give me the speech in the morning. He doesn’t get to know how I feel until he stops treating every member of the opposite sex like a used condom.

  I walk into the kitchen and throw the rest of the yogurt away, refusing to acknowledge him.

  “Fuck you and your pretentious yogurt,” I mutter,

  “If you aren’t going to admit it, Baby Girl, there is nothing I can do about it,” he says, and I feel my face heat up. The pet names were for play, he knows that.

  “Who says I want you to, kitten?” I say, spitting out the word kitten and finally letting myself look at him as I grab my laptop and walk to my room.

  I hear him throw something in the living room, but I don’t go back out there, not for the rest of the night.

  Vodka Tonic

  I have shamelessly avoided Damian for over a month. I am literally going through withdrawals and I am feeling completely ridiculous. It’s not as if I wasn’t already avoiding him, but now I am going out of my way. I have only heard him in the living room. And I have started putting snacks and water in my room to avoid the kitchen when I don’t want to see him. I am being ridiculous.

  Last night
he knocked on my door and I pretended to be asleep. He opened the door and looked in, and I just stared at the wall.

  “Fee?” he said. I kept quiet.

  “Felicity?” he said walking in.

  He sighed and I felt him come close to the bed. I kept my eyes shut, praying he wouldn’t try to shake me awake.

  He just pulled my covers up closer to me.

  “I miss you,” he whispered.

  So, in other words. I feel like shit.

  My shift was long at the library. I had a student actually need my help and I didn’t finish all I needed to get done—so now, I have to go back to the apartment and actually work when break starts today. Midterms were this week. My last midterm is due on Sunday. My doctor is going to kill me. Between being mad at Damian and trying to get all my work done—I am not sleeping as much as I should.

  Damian calls as I am walking home.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hi,” I say. “What do you need?”

  “Well I was wondering if I was ever going to see you again?” he says, hurt tone in his voice. I soften. I am going to have to face him soon, but not yet. I just can’t. I can’t look at him with Kyra or hear him talk about her or whatever girl he is on to now. Not anymore and not after him seeing the fact that I was upset.

  “Damian, I live with you. You see me every day,” I say. I am also lying. I have made sure I was out before he woke and home and asleep before he got back. On nights I knew he was home early, I would stay on campus until I knew he would be asleep. I’ve spent the weekends at Mere and Nat’s to avoid seeing anything else that would break me even further.

  “When are you going to talk to me about this, Felicity?”

  “About what?”

  “You know what.”

  “Can’t recall,” I say.

  “You’re avoiding me.”

  “I’m just busy. I have a mid-term due Sunday, Damian,” I say as I try to get Zeke to go out.

  “I am your roommate, Fee, and I had to call you in order to hear your voice.”

  “We have just been on opposite schedules lately. I have a lot going on, Damian,” I say. That’s not technically a lie.