Chapter 8 – Oil and Water

He wasn't sure why he was doing what he was doing. Maybe he had finally gone off the deep end, like his band mates so often accused him of doing.

Chris opened the door and stepped into the lower lobby of Lance's apartment building. Walking directly to the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor and waited for the doors to open. He wasn't coming to visit with Lance and Addy like usual – neither of them would be home. It was almost six and Lance would still be at the station doing his show. Addy would be out, doing...whatever it was that she usually did when she was working, and probably frantically if he knew her as well as he thought he did.

The elevator finally dinged and the doors opened and he stepped on, thankful it was empty. No, he had no idea what had compelled him to come visit Melissa today.

He had been sitting on his couch in his own apartment. He couldn't find anything interesting on TV. He had perused through his video games but nothing there excited him either. He had picked up his guitar, but the music wasn't compelling him today. He had played with his phone for a while, checked his Facebook and Twitter, and his email twice – nothing could hold his interest for more than five minutes.

Then he had realized he was starting to get hungry – and he had thought of her. Out of nowhere, her face had entered his mind. Before he knew it, he had hopped on his motorcycle and he was here.

Maybe it was guilt. He felt bad that he had ruined their date, for Addy and Lance, but especially for Melissa. He had intended to try to make it work through the night after Addy had convinced him to come back inside, but his mouth had gotten the best of him. In his defense, he was only joking around with her – he thought.

He didn't know anymore. His dating life had been on the edge of the cliff ready to fall over for years. He was so sick of the women who only saw his public face instead of the private one. He loved everything that his career had brought him, including all the fans. He was constantly amazed that even ten years after they had released their last album, the fans had been so continually loyal to them. It was more than any of them could have asked for, and they appreciated it every day.

But did he have to find every single one of them and end up dating them?

He walked down the hall that he had walked several times before, towards Lance's door. It was weird to think that he was in his building, but not with the intent to visit Lance. And this was basically all he knew about this woman – that she lived across from Lance, that she worked part-time at a department store and went to culinary school, and that Addy had become good friends with her. That was it – well, and the fact that she was beautiful and apparently, didn't like him much.

He reached Lance's apartment, 3E, and looked directly across from it – 3F. That was her apartment. Showing up here unannounced today wasn't his plan, but he couldn't exactly call her since he didn't know her number. He didn't know what to expect – he didn't even know if she would be home, since she was a working woman and a student to boot.

Nonetheless, he walked up to her door with one hand stuffed in his jean pocket and one lifted to knock on her door. He stopped when he heard the music, very familiar music, and quietly put his ear to the door.

She was playing 'It's Gonna Be Me' – apparently, very loudly, since he could hear it easily through the heavy door. He smiled.

“What am I getting myself into with this one?” he whispered to himself before lifting his fist again and knocking on her door.

It was a few moments before he heard the deadbolt unlatch and saw the doorknob turn, and she appeared in the doorway – her hair pulled into braided pigtails, wearing a white bandana, in a tank top and jean shorts...dancing and swaying her hips from side to side.

“Oh my God,” she said immediately.

“No hello?” he asked with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she pulled the bandana off her head, making stray blonde hairs frizz on top of her head.

“I was in the neighborhood walking by and I heard the music and thought maybe you were having a party without me, cupcake,” he said.

She sighed in frustration.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling at her. “Actually, I came by to see you. I was hungry, and I thought maybe I could make up for the other night by...taking you out for a bite.”

“You,” she said, pointing at him, “want to take me out for a bite?”

“If you're not too busy busting a move,” he said, smiling when she smiled, “yeah. I'd like to.”

“Am I getting Punk'd? Where's Ashton and the camera crew hiding?”

“Funny,” he said as she put one foot out into the hallway and peeked out, looking right and left.

“After our disastrous date the other day, you want to venture out by ourselves and try it again? We couldn't make it work with the model couple there as influences. What makes you think we could do it by ourselves?”

“I want to try to make up for being a jackass the other day,” he said. “That's not who I am, the person that you got to see. Truthfully, I don't know who that was.”

“Well, I'm pretty sure it was you, or Addy has some explaining to do,” she said with a smile.

“Can I at least come in? Or should I get down on the floor and get the groveling over with before Lance gets home? I'd never hear the end of it if he saw me.”

She stared at him and huffed as she leaned against the door frame.

“Fair enough,” she finally said. “Come in.”

She stepped out of the way and opened the door for him – but for a moment, he paused. What was he doing, and why was he doing it again?

“Are you coming in?” she asked after standing there with the door open for a few seconds, watching him stand silently.

“Yeah,” he said, brushing off his uncertainty – of which he wasn't even certain why he was uncertain. “Yeah, I'm coming in.”

He walked through the door and she closed it after him, stepping away from it and him as soon as it had latched and she locked the deadbolt again. He looked around the house and was taken aback by how empty it was. Addy had mentioned something about it to Lance, and in turn Lance had mentioned something about it to Chris, calling Melissa “mysterious”. All Lance knew about this girl was that she had simply showed up at his apartment one day, walked in like she owned the place, and Addy had taken to her immediately.

For that reason, Lance didn't entirely trust her. Chris knew that Lance had his feelers out on this girl, which was rare for Lance, who was a generally trusting person because of his Mississippi roots and Southern raising. At first, he thought it was because Lance was protective of his fiancee. After everything she had been through, he didn't like anybody messing with her. He didn't particularly like the idea that Melissa had walked into his apartment the way she did, either.

Now, he was feeling a little mystified himself.

“I'm sorry about the music,” Melissa said, walking quickly over to the counter where her cell phone laid. “I listen to it when I clean the house. You're probably sick of hearing your own songs by now.”

“Nah,” Chris lied. “It's cool. It's kind of amusing, actually.”

“It's amusing that you still have devoted fans?” Melissa asked defensively as the music turned off.

“No, it's amusing that as a fan of the band in a city of like eight million people, you managed to find yourself living across the hall from one member and went out on a date with another.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” Melissa mumbled.

“Most fans would think they'd died and gone to Heaven, you know,” Chris said. “You're not really acting like a fan.”

“You didn't like the date we had the other day because I acted too much like a fan. Now you show up at my apartment unannounced and bitch because I'm not acting like a real fan.”

“Who said I didn't like our date?” Chris asked. “You're the one who walked out on me.”

“You walked out on me first!” she said with a scoff.

“Well, that's kind of what I came over for,” he replied. “To explain.”

“I thought you came over to be the good guy and take me out for a bite,” she said with a smile, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I did. At least I think I did. They're not mutually exclusive.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled.

“I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot,” he said.

“We got off on the wrong foot because yours was stuck up your ass all night.”

“Hey,” he said defensively. “Mine may have been stuck up my ass but yours was stuck in your mouth all night. Why did you have to bring up all that stuff about the band? You couldn't help yourself?”

“Excuse me?” she said with a scoff. “Who brought it up? I believe it was Lance and Addy – Lance and Addy couldn't help themselves. All I said was that I liked you guys when I was a teenager, and I liked a few of the songs.”

“And that Joey was your favorite,” Chris said with a smirk.

“Oh, is somebody a little jealous?” Melissa said patronizingly. “Afraid that Joey is stealing a little of your thunder?”

“Jealous,” Chris said, scoffing. “Jealous of Joey, me? What would I have to be jealous of Joey over?”

“Why can't you just say 'no'?”

He looked up to see her smiling knowingly at him. She could call his bluff, and it had been a long time since he had met a woman who could do that...or had the guts to.

“This isn't about me and Joey, Weston,” he said. “This is about you and me.”

“That was a pathetic attempt at a save. And you and me? We had one date. Don't go doodling our names all over your notebook there, Kirkpatrick.”

“You are the most frustrating woman on the East Coast.”

“Then why did you come here again?” she asked as she puttered around her kitchen, him watching her from a few feet away. “You and I both know that you didn't come here to be 'the good guy'. I'm nothing more to you than a bad blind date. From what I hear, you've had plenty of those – and you don't do check-ins on any of them.”

As they watched each other, waiting for the other's next move, he realized he was losing the battle of wits. So far she had called him on all his bad behavior – for example last night, when she had told him where he could stick it before she had walked out on him. That had even left Lance and Addy speechless. No woman he had gone on a date with had ever spoken to him like that, and as frustrating as it was, it was also refreshing.

Maybe that was why he was here, why he felt the need to randomly show up. The thing that should be the least attractive about her, was the most attractive.

“You're a cool person,” he said, only half-lying to her. “Just because our date didn't work out, doesn't mean we can't be friends.” He watched her raise an eyebrow. “Or at least be civil to each other. We're both friends with Lance and Addy. We're going to have to see each other again at some point. We're going to have to learn to get along.”

“We're not their divorced parents, Chris,” Mel said, her sarcastic attitude softened. “It's not like you have to be civil to me when you drop them off at the end of the weekend. I see Addy every day in the hall and a couple extra times a week to have lunch or go for a coffee. We don't have to get along. We never even have to see each other again.”

Hearing her say that, Chris felt an unexpected disappointment.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “To never see me again?”

She sighed. “Chris, we're oil and water.”

Oil and water – two things that never mixed, despite how much you tried.

“We're two different people,” she continued. “Different personalities, different expectations, different lives. Two people on totally different life paths. It would never work.”

“We could try,” he said. “Opposites attract, right? Look at Addy and Lance.”

She chuckled. “Is that your idea? That we'll be the new Addy and Lance?”

“Well, no, I--” he stuttered. “I want to be friends.”

“Addy and Lance are...cute,” she said. “Cutesy. So much that they make you want to gag sometimes. I can see why the idea is appealing to you – how they hated each other at first because they were so different, and then they fell in love...but Chris, they were way more similar than you think.”

It was true, he had seen it. Until he had moved to New York a few months ago, he hadn't talked to Lance quite as much as he did now, but they still talked on the phone every week or so. He'd heard the whole story from the beginning – from Stephanie giving her two week notice to the night that Adeline had arrived in New York. He had giggled and bit his tongue at Lance's accounts of her being “a pain” and “difficult to work with”. And he had listened as Lance progressed from saying nothing good about her to confusion over his feelings for her.

“You don't think maybe we could have more in common than you think we do?” he asked. “We haven't even gotten a chance to talk.”

She paused, and as she took dishes off her counter and dipped them under the soapy water in her sink, he saw her consider it for a few moments. He had hope until she looked up at him with an uncomfortable smile.

“You know, I don't have time for this today,” she said. “I've got housework to finish, homework to do, errands to run...it's a nice offer, but I'll have to take a rain check on that bite.”

His first reaction was to argue, pull out his phone, and offer to order in a pizza and help her get some of her housework done while they waited – but before he could reach for his pocket, she had already grabbed a dish towel to wipe her hands and started walking towards the door.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, recognizing that he was being kicked out by her. “Can I at least give you my number? You can call me when you're ready to cash in that rain check.”

“Sure,” she said, taken a bit by surprise. “Yeah. Let me get a pen and paper.”

She disappeared down the hall and into another room, which gave him a chance to look around again. It occurred to him that Addy hadn't lied when she said the apartment was lacking certain details that made the apartment a “home” - no pictures. No wall hangings. No stray books laying out on the side table – and no side table either. The lonely, pathetic looking silk house fern sitting by the door was the only sign of personalization she had made to the apartment.

Chris was no interior decorator himself, and his apartment still lacked a bit of finesse that he knew he could put into it. But even living what he thought was true “bachelorhood” in an apartment that wouldn't make it to the pages of Good Housekeeping anytime soon, he at least had a few pictures out on the walls and surfaces, some personal effects that he had collected over the years, and a few books laying out that he never read but made him feel smarter. Everybody who walked into his apartment knew that he hadn't touched that copy of Moby Dick in years, but having it out for people to know that was what made the apartment his apartment.

Looking around her apartment, it seemed to him that a lot of her life was missing, especially if she didn't have anything from it out for display. It was almost as if she had tried to erase any existence she had before she moved to New York.

“Sorry that took so long.” She reappeared from the hallway and took him by surprise, making him turn to look at her. “I had to dig in my drawers for a pen and paper. I guess it's true that handwriting things has taken a backseat to technology these days, even for me.”

She handed him a torn scrap of lined notebook paper and an old ballpoint pen, and he held it against the wall next to her door as he scribbled his name and phone number on it. When he finished, he handed both items back to her.

“There you go. And in case you're thinking about ditching out on me and never calling, remember Weston...I know where you live.”

He smiled at her, and as she grabbed the paper and pen from his hand, she looked up at him and smiled back.

“I'll keep that in mind,” she said.

“Then I'll let you get back to your housework and errands,” he said. He put his hand on the doorknob, feeling that if he let himself out, the sting of knowing she was kicking him out for no reason might hurt less.

“Yeah,” she said, a hint of regret in her voice. “I should get back to those things. I have a lot to get done.”

He opened the door and stepped out while she took the door in her hand. He assumed she would try to rush him away by saying a hasty goodbye and nearly shutting the door in his face, but to his surprise, she casually leaned against the door frame as he hung in the hallway beyond her threshold.

“I stay pretty busy,” she said, pushing a stray chunk of her bangs away from her eyes, “so it might take me a while to get back to you about dinner. I'll have to find a free minute.”

“Well, the offer stands for dinner, lunch, breakfast...” When she lifted an eyebrow and smiled, he cleared his throat. “Okay. Not breakfast.”

“Not breakfast,” she repeated.

“That would be a bit awkward.”

“A bit,” she said with a nod.

“But we could also order in,” he said. “You know, if you're too tired to go out or you have homework to do, or you'd rather stay in. I know some great Chinese and pizza places...”

“Chris,” she said, stopping him. “Don't worry. I'll call.”

“Right,” he said. “Sorry.”

Both of them paused a moment in the hallway, not sure whether they should say goodbye or not. From down the hallway, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and both looked down the hall to see Addy making her way towards them, her hands full with papers and a couple grocery bags as usual.

“Hey Mel, hey...Chris,” she said, shocked to see the two of them within the same vicinity of each other.

“Hey Ad,” Chris responded.

“Nice to see you here, Chris.”

“Just stopped by to say hello, nothing special,” he said.

Addy grinned and looked over at Mel to see her grinning as well, trying to hide it. Addy could see that Chris was nervous, and both of them were up to something.

“Well, that's great,” she said. “You want to stay and have dinner with us? When Lance gets home from the station we're grilling steaks and potatoes and vegetables.”

“I was getting ready to leave, but thanks for the invite anyway,” Chris said. “I've got a few things to do before I head home, so I'll leave you ladies to whatever it is you have to do.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Melissa a side look.

“I'll be waiting for that call.”

Addy watched as Mel nodded and Chris walked away down the hall, only lifting his head and sneaking the two of them a quiet “goodbye” as he stepped onto the elevator.

“Did I miss something?” she asked as she looked at Mel.

Mel only sighed and shrugged in response. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Hmm,” Addy said, looking in the direction that Chris has walked off and shrugging slightly. “Oh well, who knows what's going through that head of his. Maybe it's best if we don't know.” She shuffled the things in her arm to dig in her pocket for her house keys. “If you want though, you can join us for dinner.”

“Oh, I'll probably have something delivered. I still have a lot of things to do around the house.”

Addy was about to respond when her arm tipped and the mail on top of her paper pile fell to the floor as she retrieved her keys.

“Damn it.”

“Let me get that for you,” Mel said.

“Thanks.” Addy sat one of her grocery bags next to the door to lighten her load as she inserted the key into the lock. “I swear, I need to get organized better. I'm a mess right now.”

“Addy, what's this?”

Addy looked behind her at Mel, holding most of the mail in one hand and a small white card in the other.

“It says 'You've ignored me too long, now someone will pay',” Mel said.

Both girls remained silent, too stunned to say anything. Addy removed her hand from the doorknob and sat her grocery bag down on the ground next to the one she had already sat down. She wandered the few steps over to Mel, grabbing the card from her hand. It was the same kind of typed note that she had received before, without the rose.

This was a threat. Lance had been wrong – and now she was worried.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.