“It’s like going to eat at a fabulous restaurant, having a fabulous time, eating a fabulous meal but getting angry when the bill comes. The bill is the pain.”
“-Yul Brynner (paraphrased) on the pain that love brings.
If these walls could talk, they'd probably say that a lot of people have been screwed in this hotel room, but Justin Timberlake has yet to become one of them.
Black Snake Moan had been in post-production for going on two months now. My new project?
Other than moping around and being so pathetic that none of my friends want to be bothered with me anymore, I guess I didn't really have anything to do. I needed something to do. An album to work on. A studio to be holed up in for long hours. A movie set to be filming in. A stage to perform on. A fucking life to live. Something.
So that's why I left. I was going stir-crazy in my house, so one day I just got up, got in my car and drove. I think my car turned into the Nightrider car because I seriously don't remember driving, but I must have driven since I do remember parking. When I got out of the car, I just stood there for a moment wondering where the hell I was.
I was outside of the Ritz. When I realized that, I thought about just turning around and heading home. But then I thought, what am I rushing home to? Sadie's been over at Fionna's house so much I think she's forgotten where she actually lives. I would have gone and picked her up, if that didn't involve going to pick her up at Fionna's place, where Fionna could answer the door and where I would have to pretend like I was okay.
I don’t love her
I mean, I am okay. I haven't gone off the deep end. I'm not popping pills or slitting my wrists or anything over the top like that. I'm just...
Crushed. And I don't necessarily feel like pumping myself up anytime soon. I was okay with being deflated for the time being; I just didn't need or want an audience to do it in front of. So I left.
I tried to tell myself
But you can see it in my eyes
That's why I'm staying alone in the Ritz. I didn't tell anybody that I was here, except Trace. Not even my mom. I knew she'd just call and tell me to suck it up and be a man. Well, fuck that. I can be a man later. Right now pouting and being anti-social sounded about right to me.
I had just gotten back from my exciting trip to the open bar they had downstairs, where I could be around people without having to really be with them. I knew it was time to go when the drunk girl who could hardly keep her boobs from popping out of her shirt (Tara Reid) stopped trying to flirt with the barstool which she'd mistaken for the bartender in an attempt to get a free drink because she was pissed that it was ignoring her, even though apparently”and I'm quoting now”he was so in love with her the night before.
A barstool's love is a fickle thing. I guess Tara had to find that out the hard way though, because after that she just got really pissed and started cussing, but it wasn't really cussing, I mean it sounded like cussing. It had the right tone, but the words were all wrong. Instead of fuck you, motherfucker”for example”she would say things like tuck you, mothertucker. Instead of bitch it was yitch. Instead of ho, it was...well, actually she did get that one right. I guess when a word gets tossed at you enough you eventually learn how to pronounce it even when you're nearly blackout drunk.
When I made it back to my room, I unlocked the door and headed straight for the bathroom. I dunno, but hanging around the same vicinity as Tara for too long just made me feel like I needed to take a shower. But when I walked into the bathroom there was only one small problem. Just one tiny problem. My tub was already occupied.
By some long raven haired woman, who looked too peaceful, laying there in my tub, in my bubbles with her eyes closed, to be a stalker fan.
I watched her for a long moment, trying to figure out how she could have possibly gotten into my room. This floor was supposed to be secured. Nobody without my express permission should have been allowed on this floor. I'd only seen one person since I'd checked in. Only one person had access to this floor other than me.
Grabbing my cell, I quickly dialed. It was answered on the second ring. "Trace, what the hell did you do?"
"What are you talking about?"
So don’t deny
"I'm talking about the naked woman in my tub." I hissed into the phone.
"Why are you talking about her? I didn't send her over there for you to just..."
"So you did send her! You fucking..."
"Ungrateful bastard. That's what you are. I'm trying to help you out. You get laid, you relax. You relax maybe you'll see how incredibly ridiculous you're being. She was just a girl. You've dated lots of girls. Pretty girls. Gorgeous girls. Fucking super model girls."
I can’t fool no one else
The truth is in the tears I cry
"I'm tired of that shit though. I mean, damn, you just listed three types of girls I usually date, not one of those categories entails anything other than the physical. Where were the smart girls? The funny girls? The athletic girls? The goal-oriented, self-motivated, independent girls?"
"Dude, everybody knows when you choose to describe a girl based on everything but her looks that can only mean one thing: dog-faced."
"Calling someone a smart girl isn't bad."
"Woof, woof." He said. "Dog-faced nerd."
"What's wrong with funny girls?"
"Dog-faced chubbo."
"Althetic?"
"Dog-faced and flat chested. Bad combination."
"Okay and lemme guess...the goal-oriented, self-motivated, independent girl is...what? A dog-faced bitch?"
"Woof, woof." He laughed. "By George I think he's got it!"
"You know you can be a real asshole sometimes."
"What do you expect? You are the company you keep and look at who my best friend is."
’Cause if it isn’t love
I sighed. "Well, I don't want to be that guy anymore. That superficial, at first sight, dick-driven guy. That's why I did the whole deal thing. I wanted something different. Someone different."
"So that didn't work. What's plan B?"
Why do I feel this way?
Why does she stay on my mind?
"There is no plan. Just...her."
"You tried, man. There's just no chemistry between you and Janice. You can't force it. It's just something that either you have or you don't."
"With Fionna, I do."
And if it isn’t love
"And what category does she fit in?"
"All of them…I guess."
"Impossible." He said, matter of factly.
"Okay, I don't know about athletic. But that doesn't really matter all that much. But she is everything else."
"You're telling me that Fionna is a fucking super model?"
"She could be. 6'0" with legs to put Tina Turner to shame, coke-bottle shape, nice round apple bottom, fairly busty, cute face, slim in the waist, beautiful smile when she happens to smile. And she doesn't walk, she struts. She sashays. It's like fucking poetry in motion. I feel inspired when I watch her strut her stuff. Smooth cocoa brown skin. All natural. The woman hardly wears make-up and she doesn't need to. She's flawless."
Why does it hurt so bad?
Make me feel so sad inside
"You're seeing her through your little love haze. She's pretty, I'll give you that. I could even see gorgeous if she stopped sneering so much. But fucking super model?" His voice dissolved into chuckles.
"Whatever, she's the one."
If it isn’t love
He groaned, loudly. "Please don't start this shit again. You've said this about damn near every woman you’ve fallen for. Katie was the one in eighth grade through ninth. Veronica was the one in tenth. Jamie was the one in eleventh. Michelle was the one senior year. Britney's been the one ever since then. Now suddenly, Fionna's the one?" He scoffed. "Man, shut the fuck up with that shit and go have fun with that woman in your tub. If she was one, you wouldn’t have given up. So hurry before that girl starts pruning up and shit."
"What the fuck am I supposed to do with her?"
Chuckling, he said, "A be-a-u-tiful naked woman in your tub. Waiting for you. Take a wild guess what you're supposed to do with her."
"But she's not..."
So if it isn’t love
"The one? No, Neo, she isn't. But she is the one who's sitting in your tub. Naked."
"Trace, I'm not fucking some groupie or better yet some two-bit huzzy you picked up off some corner, man!"
"She's not a groupie. Not a prostitute. You've even met her before. Remember when we were at Skin? Right before you decided to waste the evening chasing after Fionna who was clearly avoiding your ass. She was the hott ass chick you were dancing with."
"Brenda?"
Why do I feel this way?
Why does she stay on my mind?
"Brianna. Close." He chuckled. "Look, names aren't that important right now. She knows what the deal is. She seems like a cool girl, who's fine with being fucked for just one night. A guaranteed stress-free lay with no morning after drama...you're welcome." And before I could argue or say anything, he added, “Have a good night if you know what I mean.” Then the phone went dead on his end.
When I went back into the bathroom, I fully expected my next words to be along the lines of ‘There’s obviously been a mistake here, so I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave.’
Only that’s not quite how things went down.
The next day I woke up alone in the mess I’d made the night before and realized I ain’t cut out for this kind of shit. I liked being in a relationship. I liked having a woman put me on ‘lock down’ as Trace liked to call it. The crack of the whip over my head was okay.
So I called her to come over. The second after I’d hung up the phone, the butterflies in my stomach came alive and decided it was time to have a rave”with glow sticks, ecstasy, and horrible techno music and all. So I was nervous. It was just Fionna. I knew that. But at the same time it wasn’t just Fionna.
Not sure when that happened exactly, but she stopped being just Fionna a long time ago. Now she was the raver butterfly bringer. Now she was the one I couldn’t get my words out around. Which made asking her to come over so much harder than it needed to be. After she finished laughing at me for a few minutes, then she must have translated my jibberish back into English and said she’d be over soon. What’s soon though?
Maybe I should change. I’ve changed five times already. Nothing seems right. God, what the hell am I doing to myself? I’m supposed to be a man. Men don’t do this.
Men fix things, pump iron, grunt in garages”that’s what I’ll do! No, not the grunting or fixing things, I’ll work out. That should help me relax.
After I’d worked up a decent sweat, I glanced at the clock and cursed at myself for thinking I had time for something like that. Now I smelled and definitely was in need of another shower.
Five minutes into my second shower, I could have sworn I heard someone calling to me. Perking my eyes, focusing on the sound, I recognized the voice. Fionna. I popped my head out of the bathroom and yelled for her to come upstairs.
When I walked out of the bathroom again, she was sitting on my bed dressed in a jeans and a t-shirt. Her curls pulled into a messy bun. She didn’t have to try to be impressive to impress me.
“You invited me over for a strip tease?” She asked, eyebrows raised, head tilted, that tiny smile of hers in place. Her eyes scanned my body once and then she only looked me in the eyes.
I’d nearly forgotten I hadn’t gotten dressed. Just knowing she was here, I couldn’t help but want to come out and see her. As lame as that sounds.
I licked my lips, watching her sit on my king-sized bed, my mind wandering to positions I could have that ample ass of hers in.
“Well, am I gonna get a show? Or are you just gonna stand there and stare?”
I watched her for another moment, trying to read her face, to see if she was going somewhere with this that I just wasn’t following. Did she really want this?
I trailed my fingers around the top of the towel wrapped loosely on my hips. Watched her eyes follow where my fingers went. Over meticulously cut abdomen, slowly up the V-cut of my pelvis, circling my nipples. Then I stopped.
When my hands went back to my sides, her eyes slowly trailed up over my exposed body, finally meeting my eyes.
I smiled. She smiled back. Tiny one, but it was there nevertheless.
I took a step towards her. She tensed. I stopped. Waited. Took another. Then another. And another. Another.
I was standing directly in front of her. The front of my towel brushing her knee.
Fingering the knotted edge of the towel, I said, “Ready?”
He was playing with the towel, making moves like he was actually going to take it off. On the inside, I was running around in a circle screaming ‘Oh, my God! Oh, my God!’ On the outside, I was trying very hard to keep my face blank, my hands at my side and my mouth from dropping open. I was going to call his bluff.
He was starting to pull the towel away from his moisture beaded body. God, let this all be a bluff. There has to be some boxer shorts under there.
The towel was creeping lower and lower. Then finally, he just tugged at it. It fell to the floor.
There was no bluff, no boxers underneath it all. Just bared flesh. He was right, it wasn’t a myth.
And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Forcing my eyes to his, I was practically sitting on top of my hands and biting down on my lips to keep the fact that I was freaking the hell out on the inside from leaking out.
I swallowed and turned away and tried my damnest not to go running towards the door. “You’re naked.” When I heard that my voice hadn’t stammered once, I was so happy I could have done back flips, if I knew how to do back flips. Or front flips, or any kind of flip for that matter.
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
He had the grace to look embarrassed as he leaned over to pick up his discarded towel. When he straightened up again, he was shaking his head.
“Don’t shake your head at me.”
“I gave you what you wanted and it still wasn’t good enough.” He sighed.
I rolled my eyes and pushed myself to my feet. “I didn’t think you were really going to do it. Or if you did, that you’d actually not have anything on.”
“If I still had something on, what kind of strip tease would that be?”
“I don’t know! A tease, maybe. It’s not like I have this kind of thing happening all the time.”
“So I was your first?”
And so it is
The shorter story
I frowned and just stared at him in silence. Men always seemed to want to be your first something. I moved in close to him, close enough to get a good whiff of his soap and shampoo scented body. Punching him in that rippling abdomen of his, I smiled as he grunted. Since I’d been with Richard, it had been a long while since I’d punched someone. I was long overdue.
“You’re lucky I like it rough, Sugar Pie.” He said, straightening and stretching, the towel sliding down his hips a bit. He noticed me noticing and smiled through his yawn.
“Tired? Or am I just that boring?”
He smirked and tilted his head to the side, licking his lips. “I think you already saw proof enough that I find you very…exciting.”
Feeling a rush of heat flood into my face, I had to look away. When I heard him laughing, I turned back with a frown. “What’s so funny?”
“You are the hardest to impress woman I’ve ever met.”
“Have you ever tried to impress me?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Did that a few more times, before he shook his head. “Well, I guess I haven’t tried, per se.”
“There you go.”
He nodded, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of his mouth. “What about that necklace I got you? You weren’t impressed with that. Otherwise you would have worn it. Once.”
I watched him watching the floor with his arms crossed at his chest looking like he was shy or something. But I knew better. “I might not wear it. But I keep it in my purse. So it’s with me.” I pulled it out to show him the proof.
His head raised as I raised the necklace into view. “So you’ve always got my heart.” He smiled.
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky
He watched me for a long moment, long enough to make me uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “I’m gonna go change into something. Try not to fantasize about Lil’ J too much.”
“Lil’ is hardly a word I’d use to describe it.” My eyes widened and my hands shot to cover my treacherous mouth. Shit. Shit. Shit! I did not just say that out loud, did I?
No, I didn’t.
It would be a lot easier to believe that if Justin wasn’t laughing his little ass off right now.
“Shut the fuck up, please.” I frowned, but wasn’t able to hold it as I watching him laughing. It wasn’t long before I was laughing too.
“I impressed you. Ha! I fucking impressed you.” He said, dancing around the room with the biggest grin on his face.
Still fighting down my smile and laughter, I said, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting dressed?”
He stopped moving, stopped dancing and watched me for a moment with that big grin still on his face. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I frowned, being confused made frowning so much easier.
“For noticing me.”
I can't take my eyes off of you
The conversation had taken a turn into Serious Lane and I definitely didn’t like it. “What are you talking about? How could I have possibly been around you all this time and not noticed you?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself for the longest, Sugar Pie.” He smiled. A small, slow one.
I can't take my eyes off you
I watched him. Watched him standing near the doorway of the bathroom, wearing just a towel and a little smile. Vulnerable is never a word I thought could apply to Justin Timberlake. But as I watched him, watching me, quietly, looking just a touch on the unsure side, I noticed that there was more to Justin than I’d allow myself to see before.
He was actually the first one to look away for once, glancing at his toes for a moment”a shy gesture.
He was being shy around…me? I’m not Janice. Not even close.
I can't take my eyes off of you
I watched him, staring at his toes. Watched him glance back up hesitatingly meeting my gaze. Noticed that when he licked his lips, that wasn’t the cocky bastard move I’d always figured it was. It was just another nervous gesture. Just like I did.
I made him nervous?
I can't take my eyes off you
I watched him, watching me now. Noticing that his steady gaze wasn’t as easily done as I’d always assumed it was. He was forcing himself to hold my gaze and it was obvious.
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...
I licked my lips, glanced at my feet. “I notice you, Honey Bunch. Even when I shouldn’t. Especially when I shouldn’t. So don’t thank me. Not for that.”
He smiled, slow and easy. I smiled, a tiny one, barely an upward curl of lips.
And so it is
Just like you said it should be
He moved toward me. I tensed without thinking. My body froze. He hesitated. I relaxed, slowly. He moved in close. His lips close to mine, brushing, lightly, fleetingly. Teasing. “I notice you too, Fionna.” He breathed warm breath against my face, my parted lips. I licked them, grazing his lips as I did so. He smiled, small and slow. “Even when I shouldn’t. Especially when I shouldn’t.”
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
That’s when the phone rang. I jumped. He just smiled, turned and strolled into the bathroom. Leaving me alone. Wet and warm.
And so it is
"Can I move in with you?"
I was trapped in the bathroom, seated on the lid of the toilet, trying not thinking about how stupid my striptease was. Or about how I was supposed to have this big moment of truth talk with Fionna as soon as I walked back out there.
"Huh? What?" To say I was confused was a huge understatement. "Ma?" I asked, switching the phone to another hand.
"You know who it is, boy. So can I move in or what?"
"Why do you need to move in? You've been living..."
"By myself in that apartment I've been renting since the divorce. Yes, I know. But then..." Her words stopped as it sounded like she pushed out a long stream of air. "Look, I got stupid. Let your father sweet talk my ass back into the house and out of my pants and not to mention my mind. But it's okay now. I just need a place to stay for a little bit."
"Well, you know you have one with me. You don't have to ask. But what happened with you and Dad?"
She sighed and I could hear rustling like she was playing with some papers. "Same thing that always happens with us." She paused. "Bitches."
I didn’t say anything to that, because I couldn’t say anything. That’s just how my dad’s been, ever since he lost mom’s undivided. Which I suppose is my fault. If I had just been like every other kid, instead of traveling overseas trying to launch myself into stardom, maybe this would have never happened. Maybe my parents would still be happily married. Maybe my dad and I would have a better relationship. Maybe my mother would be happy. Because I know despite what she says, she’s not happy. She’s got her happiness wrapped up in a man is too busy playing games, chasing mini-skirts to see just how much he’s hurting his piece of happiness.
"Justin, baby, maybe this is a bad idea. You know, me moving in, just means moving my drama in too. And I don't want to..."
Cutting her off, I said, "Don't even worry about it, Ma. It ain't like I have a good thing going on anyways, so you don't even have to give a thought about potentially ruining anything."
"Oh, why is that, baby? Joan hasn't come around yet?"
"Janice…isn't going to come around now or ever."
"Oh, I get it." She paused, before whispering, "She's a lesbian."
"Ma, just because the girl's not interested in me doesn't mean she's a lesbian."
"Maybe not. But maybe your problem is you're always chasing after girls. Why don't you try to find a real woman? You're twenty three damn years old. I'm forty-none-of-your-business years old and I want some grandbabies. But that doesn't mean I'm saying just go out and hump the first slut who knows how to lay on her back. I don't need no crackhead babies to fool with."
"Ma, you know I think crack is whack." I laughed.
"Okay, Whitney, whatever you say. Just don't mess with no crackhead. Check out more than just the physical before you get physical. Otherwise you're gonna find yourself always being led with the wrong head and if you get propelled by the wrong head too many times you might make your girl have to go Lorena Bobbitt on yo' ass."
Laughing, I said, "You wil'n' right now, Ma."
"I know." She sighed. "Hey, maybe we could have dinner together tonight. How does that sound? Then we could talk about this moving in nonsense and how that can be avoided, because frankly even if I don't mess up your game, I definitely don't need you all up in my Kool-Aid." She giggled. "Were you doing something when I called? I guess I shoulda asked that sooner. I hope I didn't interrupt anything with you and Jonelle."
My mouth was fixed to correct. But what’s the point? I might as well give up. I think by now it had become pretty clear that she was never gonna remember Janice's name anyways. "I was just talking to Fionna when you called."
"Oooh, Fionna, huh? So who's the new chick?"
"She's not a new chick."
"Okay, so who's the old chick?"
Shaking my head, I chuckled. "She's just..." I trailed off, trying to decide what to call her. It’s not like my mother knew anything about the deal. And I felt kinda…stupid about it all now, so I didn’t really want to get into it. "She's my dog-sitter."
"Well, no wonder you've never mentioned her name before. So how's the doggie doing?"
And that's when I felt bad. Fionna was more than just someone who took care of Sadie for me. More than just some chick, new or old. I just...
I didn't feel like talking about it, explaining to someone else about how I feel and why I feel the way I do. Didn't want the same 'get over it' lecture. Or even a 'go for it, fool' speech.
Because going for it wasn't an option. I mean, I had pretty much laid it out for her that night after the fight. True, I just didn't come out and say the words: I love you. But c'mon, it was close enough.
My physical bruises were pretty much all healed since then, but didn’t mean I didn’t still feel that sting of when she’d left my side and run back to Richard the second he called after everything I said and after everything I did.
Too bad, nobody makes band-aids for ego bruises.
Once he was gone, I sat alone on the edge of his bed. Watching the bathroom door. Watching, waiting, listening. Then when my mind really wrapped around where I was, who I was waiting on, and everything that we were but weren’t anymore, I stood. Exit bedroom, enter family room.
Plopping down on one of his couches, I stared up at the ceiling trying to keep my thoughts on anything but him. Naked. Nude. All natural. All over me. Rolling onto my side, with my face facing into the couch, I curled up, closed my eyes and tried to think of a way out of this.
It felt like everything was leading up, building up, to something I probably wouldn’t want to deal with. The front door was calling my name. I could just get up and slip away right now and there would be nothing he could do to stop me. But I always run away. I don’t want to be so predictable”mostly ‘cause it amuses him, because it makes him think that he knows me.
I heard soft padded footfalls, but I didn’t turn around. Stayed curled, back facing the approaching feet. Made me less nervous, less anxious to take to running if I thought of it as just feet. Then…nothing. I couldn’t hear anything.
My ears perked, my body tensed. Was I just hearing things before?
That’s about the time that I felt those creeping feet kick me in my booty. Jumping up, I frowned at Justin’s smiling face.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” He said, taking a seat next to me, still grinning.
Apparently my glare didn’t faze him anymore. Damn. Either he was growing immune or I was getting sof”
No, he was growing immune. “Actually, I was just leaving.” I said, disappointing even myself by falling back into my old running ways. But hell, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.
His hand darted out, wrapping around my wrist, pulling me back to him. I turned to him, expecting him to say something predictable like ‘don’t go.’ But apparently Justin wasn’t that predictable. Or maybe staring was just more his style than speaking like a normal person.
I stared at a spot just above his head, so as not to fall into the trap that was his gaze. Tugging my arm, trying to escape but failing, I sighed. “Is there some point in this? Or do you just like holding women captive in your home?”
He has a little game that he plays
His grip loosened then fell away completely. But still…
He said nothing.
Clever little ways and a hot boy style
I frowned. “Speak. Say something. Just stop this staring contest.”
The beginning of a smile crinkled the edges of his eyes and mouth at the same time. “You haven’t looked back at me long enough to make this a staring contest.”
Lately he's been checking for me
Telling me how much he wants to be
My eyes went to his, just as I’m sure the bastard knew they would, because he’d made it seem like a challenge. So I had to accept. Goddamn it, maybe I am predictable. Or worse yet, maybe he really does know me.
“So I’m looking. Now what?”
He shrugged, leaning back into the couch. His eyes never leaving mine. “It’s whateva you want.”
Wants to be the one to replace
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “You think you’re smooth. But you’re not. You managed to remember your pants this time, but you still don’t have a shirt on. And then you lean back, as if you’re offering me your body. And what? I’m supposed to just jump on you?”
His smile spread, slow, easy and oh, so very confidently across his face. Licking his lips, he sat up straight again, his hands reaching out toward me. And just when I thought he was going to wrap his arms around me, his chest leaned in so close to mine it was nearly brushing, he grabbed something behind me. Pulling it into view, he sat back where he was before and slipped the white wifebeater that I hadn’t even realized was behind me over his head. Then he leaned back into the couch again. Watching me with his Chesire cat grin still in place.
“Now I have a shirt on. So what do you wanna do?”
Replace the man that waits at home for me
The same thing I wanted to do before: jump on you. “I have a boyfriend. Your friend. Remember him?”
Oh no I can't let you
His eyes fell away from me and I got a distinct urge to kick my own ass. Two or three wordless blinks later, the eye contact was back as he said, “Did you remember him when we were upstairs, or the night of the fight, or the night when we almost…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping from mine for a blessed moment. I could always think so much better when he wasn’t watching me. “Did you remember him those times we kissed?”
Get the best of me
His sea-foam blues were all over my chocolate browns. I was feeling trapped, backed into a corner I couldn’t fight out of. “I-I…we…shouldn’t have…y-you know that.”
Even though deep inside
Something's dying to see
He sighed, his gaze falling from mine. He licked his lips”no confidence this time, just a nervous gesture. I bit my lip, wondering if this was one of those conversations that ended in tears. Mine or his?
“If it would make it easier for you to admit your feelings, your true feelings, I’ll turn off all the lights and pretend to go to sleep. But only if that’ll help your honesty to find its way out past those lies you’re stammering and st-st-stuttering to get out.”
How you flow out them clothes
Then you put it on me
Shaking my head, I found myself smiling despite myself. I mirrored his small smile with hints of sadness around the edges as I said, “If you pretend to sleep and I know you’re pretending, it doesn’t matter. So you might as well be awake for this. So here’s the truth. I like you, for as much as you annoy me. I like you…as a friend. I do. That’s it.”
Feelings coming on strong
I know that it's wrong
“That’s it?”
“Is there an echo in here?” I said, my lip going for a smile but never quite reaching that high. I wouldn’t look at him, say these things and smile. Even if I was just doing to for the sake of lightening the mood.
I can't let you get the best of me
He sighed, rolling eyes up to the ceiling. Hands on top of head, he paced the floor. Sucking his teeth, he stared at me. Determinedly, as if he’d just come to some decision in his mind. “I’ve always seen you as having this untouchable confidence. That’s what you project. If no one takes the time to really look, to really see, to really notice you. That’s what they’d see. Untouchable, unbreakable I-don’t-need-you-or-anybody confidence. And it’s intimidating. Intimidating to the regular Joes, but more so to the man who’s trying to get close to you. But the more time I’ve spent with you, the more time I’ve gotten to really notice you. You and all the quirks that comes with you.”
“Quirks? Quirks like what?” I asked, arms crossed, head tilted to the side.
“Like how you don’t take bites, you always nibble on things. How you rarely give full smiles, but rather these teeny tiny ones that could almost be mistaken as a sneer. How you never sleep for more than three or four hours in a row. How much you suck at giving eye contact, but the moment it’s made into a challenge you rise to the occasion. How you love to pretend that you don’t want hugs, but as soon as you’re in it, you sigh softly.” He paused and just smiled at me for a moment.
The best of me
Smiled long enough that it made me want to smile back, until he said, “You aren’t so tough you know that? You may think you are, but you aren’t. Because someone who’s honest to God tough, doesn’t need to construct all these walls to distance themselves from everybody. A truly tough person opens themselves up to experiences, knowing that there’s going to be a few bumps here and there but that’s life, that’s the price for living. And they know they can handle it. Instead you close yourself off to the good so afraid of the bad that might come along with it.” He paused and took a step toward me. Without thinking I took a step back. He just smiled like he knew I was going to do that, which then forced me to have to take that step back. His smile only grew.
So busy trying to play with my head
Telling me how he could blow my mind
“I know you’ve been hurt in the past. I know you’ve been taken advantage of. I know that. I know about Martin. And in knowing how you are, I know that you never did want me to know about that. But I know. Now I just need you to know that I’m not him. I wouldn’t do anything like that. I lo””
Something about the things that he said
Made me want to take it there one time
“Stop. Just stop. I don’t want to hear the rest. No more lies.” Pushing to my feet, I paced, running my fingers through my hair”staring at the ceiling. When my eyes landed on him, my legs immediately stopped moved and that traitorous liquid slid down my cheek. “Fuck.” I sighed, swiping at my face. “If you’re thinking this is the part where I fall all in love with you…you can guess again. ‘Cause it ain’t going down like that. I’m sure that’s what you’re used to. A lil’ charming and then the girl is completely disarmed and ready to jump into your arms with professions of amor. Well I ain’t that girl. And I ain’t jumping.”
“Fifi…”
“Don’t call me that! You know I hate when people call me that.” I frowned, grateful for the little bit of anger I was feeling. At least that was an emotion I was used to and comfortable dealing with. Holding onto that anger, I said, “That’s even worse than Fi. Sounds like a fucking dog’s name. And I may be a bitch but I’m not a dog. I’m not going to wag my tail and jump all over you when you get home.”
“You’ll still lick me though, if I pet you right?” He smirked.
I was frowning and slightly pissed and he was smirking. Normally that alone would have helped to tighten my grip on my anger, but…
Gawddamn it, just looking at him, being near him was making it hard to keep frowning for some reason. And that was a new one for me.
I should be walking away
“You never quit, do you?”
As soon as I said the word quit, it hit me. That’s what I’d do. I’d quit and then I’d be done with this. With him. No more worrying, no more trying to figure out impossibly frustrating love shit. I could just walk away and never come back. Sure there was the small matter of finding a new place to work, that would pay enough and give me the flexibility to maintain the schedule I’d grown used to with Justin. But if I had to succumb to 9-to-5ing it just to make sure that this (whatever this is), would never become and a that worth looking back on. Well dammit, that was just the risk I was going to have to take.
“I quit.”
‘Cause his hand's up on my thigh
Should I leave, should I stay?
“You what?”
After all it's just one night
“I quit!” I said, triumphantly. “I quit, I quit, I quit!” I smiled then. It felt good, coming up with a plan and following it through. It felt damn good until I saw the look on his face, until my eyes fell on Sadie who just strolled into the room and was about to be motherless again. Maybe I could visit her…maybe…
Oh no I can't let you
No!
No, I couldn’t. This was it. Once you quit you didn’t come back. It was over.
Get the best of me
As I was walking out the door, listening to the tapping of Sadie’s claws on the floor as she trailed behind like she always did, a thought occurred to me: This following through shit…doesn’t really feel that good.
No wonder I never used to do it.
____________________________________
This chapter featured: New Edition “If It Isn’t Love”
Damien Rice “The Blower’s Daughter”
Mya “Best Of Me”
