Alix & Valerie

by Ingrid Diaz

  “Would you like to get something to eat?” Valerie suggested, much to my surprise.

  I was sure I’d forgotten to pack my appetite when I’d left Florida but I could use the time to think of what to say. “Sure.” I glanced nervously at the door. “But could we maybe take the stairs this time?”

  She nodded and turned toward the door, but I could’ve sworn I saw a ghost of a smile pass across her lips.

  Ò

  We ended up at a pizzeria in Greenwich Village. I sat down at a table and looked around. There were about seven tables lined up against the wall. Then some walking space between the table and the counter where one ordered. That was about it. I mostly sat there and concentrated on breathing.

  Outside, a couple of men holding hands passed by. I raised an eyebrow. Guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.

  Valerie joined me at the table soon after and placed a large pepperoni pizza between us. I entertained ridiculous thoughts. I imagined that this steaming pile of melted cheese was the only thing keeping us apart. Like the Great Wall of China, only edible. And that if we managed to eat it all, everything would be fine.

  Too bad I wasn’t hungry.

  I grabbed the smallest slice. Then, lazily picked off the pepperoni.

  Valerie sat there silently for as long as she could. Then asked the inevitable, “I thought you said you liked pepperoni pizza?”

  I looked up at her, and said quite seriously, “I love it.” Then picked off the last remaining piece.

  We ate silently. Well, she ate silently. I just sat there staring down at the slice of pizza and wishing it would get up and dance so I’d have something to distract me from the situation at hand. But, it too, sat silently. And I knew that if one of us didn’t say something soon, I’d go insane.

  “You never answered my question,” Valerie said softly.

  “I know,” I said, daring to look up at her. It amazed me how different she looked with dark hair. It made her eyes look bluer; more intense. I looked away. “I’m not exactly sure why I’m here.”

  Valerie didn’t respond, but I noticed she’d stopped eating.

  “I couldn’t just let you run off like that,” I continued. “A girl needs closure.”

  “Closure?” Valerie repeated, her eyebrows raised.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “A hundred years from now—” I paused to rethink this. “I’ll be a hundred and twenty and quite possibly dead. Scratch that.” I shrugged. “I just don’t want to look back on this and wonder what-if. I figured that regardless of what happens from here on end, at least I’ll know.”

  “And what do you want to happen?” Valerie asked softly.

  Uhh . . . “I’m not sure. What do you want to happen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Glad we got that settled.

  “Not hungry?” Valerie asked, glancing at my plate.

  “I can’t eat when I’m nervous,” I admitted.

  She didn’t respond to that. Instead, she stood. “Ready?”

  I nodded and followed her outside. I had no idea where we were exactly, but I assumed that Valerie did. At least, I hoped she did.

  “How long are you staying?” Valerie asked.

  “As long as it takes,” I responded.

  This answer caused her to look at me briefly, then she turned her attention back to the view ahead.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Nowhere in particular,” she said. “I just like to walk.”

  I almost smiled, remembering the night we’d met. I suddenly felt nostalgic.

  Since neither of us were talking, I focused instead on the scenery around me. I have one word to describe it all: stores. Granted, that’s not an adjective. But trust me, it applies here. If I’d liked shopping—which I didn’t—I would’ve been in heaven. As it happened though, I merely found it interesting. We passed by countless shops selling everything from leather whips to incense and candles. I lost count of how many Starbucks I saw. Although, we could’ve been going around the same exact block for all I knew. I hated feeling like a tourist.

  “What’s your full name?” I found myself asking.

  “What?” She seemed taken aback.

  I shrugged, keeping my gaze on the ground. “Well, I figured that if we’re starting over, then we may as well redo the introductions.”

  Valerie stopped walking. “Start over?”

  I turned to face her and somehow managed to meet her gaze. “Would you like to?”

  Her eyes studied mine intently. “What are you saying?”

  “You. Me. Us. Start over.” I grinned awkwardly. “I thought I was pretty clear.”

  Valerie didn’t respond. I had no idea what she was thinking.

  “Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy . . . but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

  “Give what a shot?” Valerie asked uncertainly.

  “Us.” I was getting impatient. “I want to give us a second chance. You know, minus all the lying and deceiving and stuff.”

  “Why would you want to do this?”

  I locked our gazes. “Because losing you is not an option.”

  Instead of responding, she started walking. I sighed, then followed after her. She wasn’t speaking and I had no idea what else to say, so I just walked beside her, wishing for telepathic abilities just so I’d know what she was thinking.

  I have no idea how long we walked, but eventually we found ourselves back in Valerie’s apartment. By this time, I was beginning to panic.

  “Alix, you shouldn’t be here,” were her first words to me.

  I swallowed back my fear. It would’ve been so much easier to just walk out the door and return to the hotel room. I could’ve been back in Florida the next morning, working on ways to write Valerie out of my life forever. Anything would’ve been easier than standing there, facing the possibility of rejection. But stand there I did.

  “Shouldn’t be where?” I asked. “In New York, or in your apartment?”

  Valerie looked at me sadly. We were both standing in the middle of the living room. She was leaning against the side of the couch. I was staring down at the white carpet, awkwardly contemplating the absence of color. “You shouldn’t have followed me out here.”

  “It’s too late for that. I’m here.”

  “Alix, you deserve so much better than me. You deserve to be with someone . . . normal.”

  “Normal?” I asked, frowning. “Valerie, name one thing that’s normal about me?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “So what’s the point?”

  Valerie clenched her jaw. “I’m not good for you.”

  I shook my head, walked to her, and grabbed her hand. I led her around the couch and sat her down. “Just listen to me for a moment. Before you came along, I had spent the past seven years of my life lusting after my straight best friend. That wasn’t good for me. I spent all of that time being totally bitter and angry at the world. I didn’t look at other people. I didn’t go out with other people. I didn’t even think about other people. None of that was good for me.

  “But then you came along, and all of a sudden I’m fainting in thunderstorms and jumping on airplanes and riding on elevators. Do you think I would’ve done any of those things if I didn’t think you were worth it?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

  “Exactly,” I agreed, hoping I’d made my point. “So what do you say?”

  Valerie stared up at me for a long moment, her face betraying nothing. Finally, she rose to her feet and stretched out her hand. “Valerie Anne Michaels, nice to meet you.”

  I grinned brightly, my body flooding with relief. “Alix T. Morris.”

  “What’s the ‘T’ stand for?”

  I snorted. “It stands for ‘There’s no way in Hell you’re ever going to know.’”

  Valerie smiled. “So what happens now?”

  “This is where you ask me out on a date.” Wow. New York sure brought out the
feistiness in me. I kind of liked it.

  “Are you free tomorrow?”

  “No, sorry. I’m booked solid. Interviews, photo shoots, you know how it is.”

  Valerie smiled. “How about we meet here . . . around two?”

  “It’s a date.” I smiled, then headed for the door. “See you then.”

  I left, then, all the while thinking that maybe that night and everything before that night had been nothing but a dream. That I’d wake up, days before the wedding, and think only of the laborious tasks still ahead. And then at some point, sometime between the pink dresses and the stripper, I’d remember that I’d had a silly dream involving Jessica’s long lost sister. And I’d tell Jessica all about it and she would laugh as she straightened out the large pink bow at the back of my dress. We would both giggle at how ridiculous the dream was. And then I’d stand in front of the mirror and think how ridiculous I looked. And it wouldn’t occur to me to realize how ridiculous life is sometimes and how seriously we take it.

  Because in spite of everything that had transpired in the past few hours, in the past few days, in the past few weeks . . . there was only one thought running around in my mind as I headed out of Valerie’s apartment.

  I’d have to start counting the dates all over again.

  Chapter 3

  Valerie

  I couldn’t sleep. I kept listening to the DJ on the radio announce song after song, in that resigned, monotone voice reserved for the graveyard shift. I kept glancing at the clock, daring time to pass. The patterns on the ceiling began to form constellations only I could see. I wondered if this was insomnia.

  “Why did I agree to start over with her?” I asked the air. “It’s never going to work.”

  Loki lifted her head and I frowned as I listened intently for a moment. There it was again. Definitely a knock. “Who the hell . . . ?” I rolled out of bed and grumpily made my way across the apartment, muttering incoherent things under my breath. Loki followed behind me, suddenly excited by the prospect of a guest.

  At the door, I hesitated. “Who is it?”

  “It’s the bloody Tooth Fairy, open up.”

  I rolled my eyes and opened the door. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  Jade entered the apartment and shrugged. “Three? It’s not like you were sleeping any.”

  I shut the door and leaned against it. “How do you know I wasn’t sleeping?”

  “Just a hunch,” she responded, looking around. “Nice pad.”

  “It’s my brother’s,” I answered.

  “Doesn’t seem like he was all that tight for money.”

  The comment stung for a variety of reasons, none of which I wanted to particularly think about at that moment. So, I decided to change the subject. Or at least, get to the point. “So what can I do for you, Jade?”

  “I wanted to make sure we’re even.”

  “We’re even.”

  Jade nodded, taking a seat on the couch. I hesitated only a moment before sitting across from her on the loveseat.

  “She’s really intent on making things work out with you two,” Jade told me. “We just want to make sure that she’s not going to get hurt again.”

  “We?” I wasn’t entirely sure where this was going but it was starting to sound like something I wouldn’t like.

  “Jessica and I.”

  “So she sent you here to supervise?” I asked, my jaw tightening.

  Jade shook her head. “Look, I want nothing more than to see you and Alix work out.”

  “And Jessica? What does she want?”

  Jade looked confused for a moment. “She wants to see Alix happy.”

  I stood, unable to sit still any longer. “Happy without me.”

  “You and I both know that’s not true,” Jade argued, but I could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

  Taking a deep breath, I sat back down. “Be honest with me, Jade. Jessica doesn’t want Alix to end up with me, does she?”

  Jade looked away for a moment, then met my gaze. “She doesn’t think you can give her everything she deserves.”

  That statement hurt more than I could ever express, but I’d be damned if I’d let Jade know it.

  “But she would never do anything to keep the two of you apart,” Jade added. “She trusts Alix’s judgment.” When I didn’t say anything, she continued. “Look, regardless of what Jessica might think, I have never seen Alix happier than when the two of you were together.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Because I need to know that I can trust you not to hurt her again,” Jade answered. “For my own peace of mind. I feel bad enough about my hand in all of this.”

  “I won’t lie to her again,” I said.

  Jade looked relieved. “Good.” She smiled. “I’ll let you get back to not sleeping.” She stood and headed for the door.

  “Jade,” I called. “Are you going to tell her that you were involved?”

  Jade shook her head. “I’m too much of a coward.” She went to open the door, then paused. “But if you have to tell her, then tell her. No more lies between you guys okay? I’ll deal with the consequences.”

  I nodded and watched her leave. Then I headed back to my room, feeling a rush of emotions.

  “I can give her all she deserves and more,” I promised to no one but myself. “And more.”

  Ò

  At precisely 2:03 pm there was a knock at my door. “You sure are punctual,” I said, as I let Alix into the apartment. She was clad in her usual black, though the jeans and the shirt were tighter than usual. No complaints here.

  She shrugged, as she turned around to face me as I closed the door. “Actually, I’ve been standing outside since one-fifty-five, but I thought I’d be fashionably late.”

  “Of course,” I said, trying not to stare at her.

  “What?” she asked, self-consciously. Then she must have noticed where my gaze was directed. “I had a disagreement with the dryer. I told it to keep my clothes nice and baggy, and it decided to shrink-wrap me. But we compromised.”

  I cleared my throat. “How’d you compromise?”

  “Well, it kept them black.”

  “Isn’t that the washer’s job?”

  She was thoughtful for a moment, then narrowed her eyes, which seemed greener than usual. “Yes. You’re right. That sneaky bastard.”

  I grinned.

  She smiled. Then she whirled around and started walking toward the TV in the living room. “Oh my God! I love this video.”

  I followed behind her to see what all the commotion was about. Aerosmith. Duh. I struggled to figure out what she saw in the group but for the life of me . . .

  “Isn’t he hot?”

  “He? Steven Tyler?” I took a seat beside her on the couch. I laughed. “You’re kidding right?”

  She frowned as she turned to me. “No. Why? Don’t you think he’s gorgeous?”

  I arched a brow and turned back to the TV. She had to be joking. “Uh . . . no? But his daughter’s pretty hot.”

  “Nope. He’s hotter.”

  I frowned. “You are a lesbian, right?”

  She smiled, her gaze glued to the screen. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” I must have missed this particular subject while we were playing truth or dare on our first date. “What do you mean by sort of?”

  “I’ve gotta get this CD today,” she said. Then she realized I asked her a question. “Oh. Well, I’m mostly a lesbian.”

  “So you’re bi?”

  “Sort of.” The song finally ended, and I had her attention back. She grinned. “You’re cute when you’re all confused.” She tapped my forehead. “You have like a vein that bulges out right here.”

  “I do not!” I argued, swatting her hand away. “Now answer my question.”

  She cocked her head. “Why is it important?”

  Um . . . “I guess it’s not,” I said, though I was still curious as hell.

  She stood, grabbing my hand. “Come on.
Take me somewhere interesting. It’s my first time in the Big Apple.”

  I let her pull me to my feet. “Hungry?”

  “Always.”

  “How do you feel about peanut butter?”

  Ò

  “I’m torn,” Alix announced, as she stared up at the menu posted behind the counter of the restaurant.

  The girl behind the register was subtly checking her out, and I found myself taking Alix’s hand in a possessive gesture. Fortunately for her, the chick took the hint and disappeared into the kitchen while we decided on our order.

  Alix glanced down at our interlocked hands.

  So I pretended it was no big deal and focused on the menu. “I think I’ll have the Spicy Peanut Butter.”

  Alix glanced up and squinted at the ingredients. “Grilled chicken with peanut butter? You’re a freak.”

  “Yes, you’re one to talk.”

  The girl reappeared and gazed at us expectantly.

  “Ready?” I asked Alix.

  She nodded. “Fluffernutter,” she responded confidently. “And milk.” She started to reach into her pocket to get out some money but I stopped her.

  “I’ve got it,” I said.

  “Yeah?” She turned back to look at the menu. “Too bad they don’t sell lobster here.”

  “Lobster and peanut butter? And you said I was weird.”

  She grinned and walked over to look at the items they had for sale.

  I turned to the girl and instantly offered her my most charming smile. “I’ll take a Spicy Peanut Butter, a Fluffernutter, and two whole milks.”

  “Crunchy or smooth?”

  What kind of peanut butter did Alix like? If I turned to ask her it would look like our relationship wasn’t serious enough to call for peanut butter preference knowledge. Then Miss Thang over here might start getting ideas. On the other hand, if I picked the wrong type of peanut butter, Alix would be unhappy with her meal. Not an option. Oh well, it was time for Plan B. “Actually, can I have two Fluffernutters instead? One with crunchy the other with smooth.” There. That should solve the problem.