scijessreads

For the previous chapter, go here.

I haven’t actually written much lately on this project. Work has been kicking me lately, and in my spare time I’ve been reading more than writing. Either on this book, or even just posts for this little blog. I finished up to Chapter 17 so far, and a couple paragraphs of an epilogue that got stuck in my head and I had to write it down. I also have a general outline of what I think I would like to happen in this book, but I am also kinda winging it, to be honest. I’m hoping that I’ll have some time tomorrow to work on it more, once I get some work stuff out of the way. I do need to think about just setting up a writing schedule for the week to see if that will help, but I don’t want this to start feeling like an obligation that I have to do. I like writing, and I like this story. And I would like to keep it that way.

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The next morning I woke up with the sun, checked my phone and saw that Amy had gotten home safely the night before, then quickly jumped into the shower to wash off the rough edges that came with falling asleep fully clothed. Standing under the spray, just this side of scalding, I replayed last night over and over again in my head. Were Drake and I really doing this? Were we finally giving in to the slow tease of more that we had been dancing around the edges of for the last year that we were both away from home, at colleges thousands of miles apart? I had never really been one to have boyfriends, as evidenced by only having my first kiss now, far behind when most of my friends had had some sort of romantic or sexual experience. I was woefully late at developing in this department. There were a few likely reasons for this that I didn’t want to think about. 

I was… prickly. Even with my friends. If ever there was a poster child for an introvert who was closed-off and hard to get to know, it was me. Most people saw the thin veneer of bubbly happiness that I used as a public persona. Those few that managed to worm their way into my life, like Drake and Amy and Sienna and our other friends Tay, Lilly, Jake… just kept coming around until they wore me down. But even they didn’t see all of me. I kept the core of myself locked down tight. Razor wire, “No Trespassing” signs, high walls… anything to avoid having anyone see ALL of me. 

It was hard for me to open up, to let anyone in. Maybe because I was an only child, and so very used to just keeping myself entertained and occupied. Maybe because unlike most of my friends, I was not “conventionally” beautiful. I was plus-size. Always had been. Active all my life due to growing up in the mountains and spending all my free time wandering trails and wading in creeks, but always bigger. Rounder. Softer than every other girl that seemed to attract male attention. Hell, even boyish attention. My hair was shorter, a slightly long-ish brown bob with layers that just barely kissed the top of my shoulders, and my hazel eyes squinted closed every time I smiled, almost disappearing into my flushed cheeks, hiding behind the square-framed glasses that I wore instead of contacts.

I had slowly learned to accept these parts of myself and was getting better with being OK within my own skin, but it’s hard to turn off years of conditioning to compare myself to other women – other girls – and wonder what they had that I didn’t. It was a recipe for loneliness and disaster. 

It also kept me from trying. I didn’t want to try and fail at building relationships and get hurt. Which was completely unfair to me and others. All of those things that I feared were part of being human and alive. Still, I shied away from anything resembling conflict. Or potential for conflict. Or a potential for having someone else confirm the worst fears I held about myself.

Wow, that took a dark turn, I thought as I finished washing my hair, reaching to turn off the shower and stepping out to grab the towel I had left on the counter. Drying off, I slipped into my denim shorts and flowy tank top, putting on my flip-flops to go out and check for the mail and paper and water the plants outside before it got too hot in the middle of the day. California summers could get scorching, hot enough to melt asphalt and make you feel like you were walking inside of a blast furnace. Once all my house-sitting chores were done, I grabbed my book, my phone, and a glass of water and curled up on the recliner in the corner, deciding to be lazy for the rest of the day until Drake came back. Before I could get too settled, my phone started vibrating off the side table. A quick glance let me know it was Amy. I so did not want to have this conversation. 

“Hey Ames, what’s up?” I decided to go for casual and avoidance to start off this conversation, which I did not want to be having in the first place.

“Good morning you little minx.” Amy went straight for the jugular. Great. 

“Amy I – “

“Oh, no you don’t! What the hell, J? Why didn’t you say anything was going on between you and Drake? Which, by the way, good job you.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say.” There was no strength in my voice. I had no good explanation for anything, at least no good explanation that Amy would accept. “And what do you mean by ‘good job’?”

“You. Didn’t. Know. What. To. Say? How about, ‘Hey, Amy, best friend of mine, Drake and I have been chatting it up like a pair of old ladies and started dating.’ Or, like, anything close to the truth.” She sounded way too chipper, and I wasn’t sure if she was making light of things, or if she really was angry with me for keeping it from her. Maybe I never thought of Amy as a close enough friend to share this sort of information with. Which, if I thought about it that way, was actually kinda sad. Did I really think so little of the people that wanted to spend time with me? Oh, god, I’m even worse than I thought.

“And by ‘good job’ I meant that I think you and Drake work, and good on you for trying to do something. Seriously, I thought the two of you would have started something in high school, and am surprised it took so long.”

“I – What?” I was confused. Started something in high school? 

“In high school, Drake was always paying attention to you and looking at you and always tried to be near you when we did group stuff. Tay and I were surprised neither of you did anything.”

“What?” I felt like a broken record. My mind could not get past this revelation, stuck on the same question. What? How had everyone else seen this but me?  

“Girl, I know your vocabulary includes more words than ‘what’.” 

“I’m just surprised. I never realized that my lack of love life was a topic of conversation in high school. I barely spoke to him before this past year in college.” My fingers began itching for a pen and paper. I liked to doodle when I got anxious, and this entire conversation was putting me on edge. “Ames, this whole thing is new for me, you just dropped information in my lap that I had no idea of, and I’m about 2 seconds from spiraling. I’ll talk to you later, I can’t do this right now.” In the absence of a pen, my leg was bouncing, nervous energy doing its best to get out of my tense body. 

“Sure.” Her voice softened. “I didn’t mean to come at you so hard, I just – I’m a little sad you didn’t say anything. I thought we were better friends, that you would talk to me about something like this.” I could hear the hurt now, layered underneath the concern. 

“Oh, Amy, I’m sorry. I should have, I know, but I was scared that if I said anything, maybe it wouldn’t be real. I wanted to keep it for myself as long as possible without anyone else interfering. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.” My eyes got tight, the tears gathering and threatening to spill. 

“I know you didn’t. Not on purpose. But it still hurts. We’ll talk tomorrow. Come down the hill for coffee? We can wander Target when we’re done.”

“Deal. I’m sorry.” 

“I know, J. See you tomorrow.” I stare at my phone for a moment. Everything was getting more messy than I was ready to handle. I just wanted to hide from everything. And since I couldn’t hide, I cracked open the book sitting on the side table to the dog-eared page I had left to mark my place. The book was an old favorite, the cover and pages slowly becoming loose and well-worn. It was an adventure book by Clive Cussler, about a guy and his friend who worked at a government agency involved in oceanography and recovering lost shipwrecks. It was Jacques Cousteau meets Indiana Jones, and it was easy to get lost in the ever-escalating stakes of the novel while quickly forgetting about the ever-escalating issues I should probably be confronting in my own life. 

It took a few seconds for me to realize that my phone was vibrating. Again. I was very much invested in seeing just how Dirk Pitt was going to survive spinning down an underground river of rapids and didn’t think to look at who was calling before I answered. 

“Hello?” My voice was a bit raspy. My giant glass of water sat untouched on the side table. I had definitely been in the reading zone for a while. 

“Hey, J, are we still good for me to come over today? I’m done at home, and can grab some food and make my way up to you now, get there around 2?” I could hear the hopeful lilt, mixed with nervous energy, in Drake’s voice. He sounded as hesitant as I felt about taking whatever our relationship was to the next step. He probably thought that I was spiraling over what happened last night. And I kinda did before falling asleep. And when I woke up this morning. And after Amy’s phone call. And now that I heard his voice again… Before I fell too far into the whirlpool of anxiety kicking up a flurry of emotion in my chest, I replied. 

“Yes! Definitely. If you don’t mind picking up some orange chicken from Panda, that would be my vote for food.” Panda Express orange chicken was probably my favorite “fast food” option. I could eat a whole family-size container of orange chicken by myself if given the chance.

“Sure. I can pick up Panda. Need anything else?” I swear I could hear him smile through the phone. 

“Not that I can think of. Can’t wait to see you.” For some reason, those words felt weird coming off my tongue. This whole new relationship was going to be a mind-fuck. Out of my comfort zone and walking into a minefield of new situations that I had managed to avoid up until now. Was I ready for all of it? I liked the idea of being with someone, but the actual being with someone kinda freaked me the fuck out. A lot. Drake cleared his throat. I had forgotten we were still on the phone. 

“What are you thinking right now? I can feel your mind spinning from here. Don’t start freaking out about anything. We’ll talk more when I get up there. We can take this as slow as we need to. I’m not in any sort of rush or timeline. I just want to be with you.” His voice turned soft over the phone. A whisper wrapping itself around my tumultuous thoughts and holding them close, like a thunder jacket for dogs. Except this was a thunder jacket for my very anxious brain. 

“It’s like you know me or something,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. 

“I do know you. We’ve established that already. And stop rolling your eyes.”

“What?! How did you know I did that? You can’t even see me.”

“Like I said, I know you. It’s like you’ve forgotten how much we’ve shared with each other over the last year through all of our messaging and phone calls.” Now, I could really hear his chuckle over the phone. I didn’t have any sort of reply to that statement. I sat there, stunned into even more silence. 

“I’ll see you soon, J. Remember to breathe, and we’ll talk when I get there. Bye.”

“Bye,” I replied and hit the button to end the call. I followed his advice and took a deep breath to fill my lungs. I held it for a moment, and then let all of the air whoosh out. It didn’t leave me feeling any better, but at least it helped slow my suddenly racing heartbeat. I was an independent woman. I moved two states away to go to college. I managed to survive college classes, including 8 am chemistry, not do anything that required anyone to bail me out of jail and meet some decent friends in the dorms that were going to share a house with me starting in the fall. I was responsible, hence house-sitting for a month with no “adult” supervision. I was all of these things, and yet I felt so small and inexperienced and maybe even a little afraid of what was going on between Drake and me. 

Was I afraid of the relationship as a whole? Parts of it? How it would change our friendship, one that had taken a long time to develop to a point where I felt comfortable in it? How it would change me? How would it change my relationship with my other friends that we share in common? There were too many questions. I was way too good at coming up with all sorts of questions and scenarios of what might happen. I could whip myself into a confused mess without much outside help. I really needed someone to talk to other than Drake about this. I already had Amy’s opinions from earlier, but she had been no help, just another layer of stress added to the situation that I hadn’t been expecting. None of my other friends were people that I had ever confided in with situations like this. I was definitely not going to talk to my mom about anything. We may be close, but we are also too much alike and had never had the sort of mother-daughter relationship where I could go to her with these sorts of questions. And dad? Oh, hell no. I’m pretty sure my stoic, quiet, don’t-show-emotion traits came from him and his Viking heritage. The strong silent type, for sure. 

Was there really no one else I could talk to? I fidgeted in the chair, absently flipping the cover of my book open and closed. A moment later I startled and dropped the book to the floor. Drake was the person I would go to with things like this, at least now. He was the one that I spilled my guts out to in the middle of the night when my roommate was sleeping with noise-canceling headphones, a Christmas gift from me to her so I didn’t have to take my conversations with Drake into the common rooms or outside the building in the chilly Pacific Northwest evening weather. 

Most people only got to see the tiny fraction of myself that I felt like sharing with the public, but Drake got it all. Drake was my person, and he was the one I needed to talk to about him and me. In the span of 8 months, this guy had become my best friend, beating out Amy as the one that I felt most able to talk to. And now… we were changing into something different. Something that I thought I wanted, but was also fighting against. I needed perspective, but talking to him wouldn’t help give me any new perspective on what was going on between us. 

Fuck.