Chapter Eleven : Throwing and Pulling
How we -- Glen, Ashley, Aiden, and Me -- all ended up at O'Neill's on the night we -- Ashley and Me -- were supposed to just hang out. On the night I've been waiting forever on. Well we -- You, Me, Ashley, Glen, and Aiden -- will never know. Just one of those things, like Murphy's Law, or an alarm that goes off right before you kiss the most gorgeous girl in the world, ending a life changing moment before it even begins.
AKA - the little things that happen daily inside my silly life.
"Ok," Aiden slides from his chair into the empty one beside mine, keeping his attentive eyes on Ashley and Glen grabbing drinks at the bar, "What's going on?"
My sights are set on the same place, the same nauseating bar scene unfolding before our eyes, as I mindlessly ask into thin air, "What?"
"All the tension." He says it like it’s so obvious as I hear him gulp down a chug of his Budweiser, "What’s up with that? It’s getting kind of awkward."
Now he’s got my nervous attension, eyes searching his face for a hint of what he’s getting at, all the while trying to keep those nerves far from my voice. Oh yeah, I’m reaching toward the top shelf for nonchalant, twirling my glass between my slippery fingers.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
But I could never reach that shelf, and definitely couldn't tonight, no matter how far I stretched on my tiptoes. I’m failing. I’m failing, miserably. I can't keep my unnerved eyes off them. Watching Glen's hand sitting low on her back. Possessively. Unjustly.
She isn't his. She doesn't belong to him.
But, as he grabs her hand, and she doesn't do anything but keep it inside his, I realize it. I realize she is his. She does belong to him, like I’ve always believed. And now I wonder how much longer I'll be able to keep my eyes from crying.
"Right." Aiden condescends in my ear, before he leans back, thankfully steering away from this conversation. "Ok, yeah. No. You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want to know what you two are fighting about now."
The perfect married couple start walking back to our table, and it makes me even more anxious. It makes me practically hover over Aiden, feeling more than a little bit stressed, as I ask in a rushed and harsh whisper, "Ok when have you ever cared about Glen and me fighting?"
"Believe me, I haven’t. I wasn't talking about you and Glen. I was talking about you and his other half."
Excuse me, other half? She is so not Glen’s other - Wait a minute. What is Aiden talking about? Aiden is not that perceptive. There's no way he knows. He doesn't, He couldn't - I mean, does he know? No. No, this is Aiden. The man who only makes sense after he's fifteen deep.
The man who still believes the phrase is Doggie Dog World.
"Whatever."
I manage to drip one word in venom and he only laughs, laughs in a way that is far too knowningly for my liking. Sliding back into his chair, he leaves Ashley's chair empty for her to fill again. Which she does, stiffly and uncomfortably. Once more fitting her tense body beside my even more tense body, all thanks to Aiden.
But I try and shug it off. As I’ve been doing this whole night, I try to remain cool. Remain calm. Remain funny.
"So, how was the bar? Positively thrilling?"
Laughing with my sarcastic and lame question, my attempts at funny fall unbelievably short. My laughter is depressing. But depressing to only me because only I know how much I’d rather cry. How much I’d rather ball up like a baby, and weep my poor little heart out. But I'm trying. I’m trying so hard. Ever since this night fell apart on me, I’ve tried reaching out for her. I've tried not running away. But it's been beyond difficult.
It's been kind of heartwrenching.
"Yup." She cooly sips her drink, keeping her eyes anywhere I'm not. Making my efforts all the more painful. Because Ashley is not trying. Ashley is closed up and running.
And yeah, it’s kind of tearing me apart.
"Yeah." Glen and Aiden start rambling about something sports related, and I just keep on trying, “So, how’s your drink?”
She holds her glass between her hands, angling it back a bit, as if she were really checking it out. “Pretty good. Can’t really go wrong with a Jack and diet.”
I sigh. She’s not giving me anything, merely focusing her attention on some TV, the same one holding the subject of Glen and Aiden’s conversation. But, I know her attention isn’t there. I know her attention is on anything that’s not me.
I can’t help it, I sigh again. I sigh with my life, feeling her sad, full of pity, eyes falling on my slumped over shoulders. She keeps doing that. Looking at me sympathetically. As if I were in this pain all on my own. As if this night was no big loss for her.
Ok, no. I have to stop believing that. I have to stop believing she's not as heartbroken as I am. I have to believe that neither of us are going to run. Because this morning still happened. Because last night still happened. And I know everything that happened inbetween was the truth.
"I heard you were all sorts of banged up Saturday night, Aid." Glen laughs over his bottle, and I fight every urge to roll my eyes.
Actually, no, I don’t fight anything, I roll my eyes so hard I just might have lost them and I hear a light chuckle beside me. One that could only be hers, one that could only mean she saw my disgust with my brother, and it lifts my heart so much. So much more than it should, and I should feel kind of pathetic about it, but it makes me happy more. It makes me too happy to even care.
"Glen, you know it was my birthday, right? Being all sorts of banged up kind of goes along with the territory."
"Yeah, yeah. So did you get any?"
"Glen." Ashley cuts in, not amused, speaking everyone's mind, "So not appropriate."
“What?” Glen asks, oblivious, and things become heavy. So heavy. Between me looking at Glen, looking at Ashley, looking at me, this circle of drama begins closing in. The obvious tension Aiden mentioned before screeching to the surface. Coming so close and so loud, even Glen is catching onto it.
And then Aiden laughs.
“Uh, Glen, you know it was my birthday, right? Getting laid kind of goes along with the territory.”
For once, Aiden’s perviness makes me so grateful to have him as my best friend. Makes me so unbelievably thankful, because we’re all back to floating now -- well, almost back to floating. This circle is no longer decreasing, because of Aiden. Because he might know more than I want him to.
But that’s ok. For now, that is fine by me.
The bar buzzes around us. Glasses clank over classic rock. Pool tables snap and crack with life. And our table fills with comfortable silence, Glen and Aiden’s pointless conversation filling the spaces between.
But then there’s Ashley's unreadable silence. Her inexplicable introversion. And as I catch Glen's no good eyes wandering to places they shouldn't, to legs that don't belong to him, I can't help myself. I need to push this. I need to find out what’s going on. I need to make a move.
Tentatively reaching beneath the table, I slide my hand over to her lap, finding her hands clasped together there. Brazenly, my fingers draw across her skin and I hear her gasp lightly, her body stiffening even more. But she doesn’t move away, and neither will I. Slowly, I unravel her knots. Slowly, I untie her tight fingers. Letting my surprisingly sturdy ones thread with hers.
In this moment, I'm giving her my everything. Right now, I’m putting myself out there, to prove to her. To show her, with everything I've got.
I'm not running away.
I’m right here with her.
I'm not breaking my promise.
I’m won't do that.
And then she throws it all away. She takes my everything and practically shoves it back in my face. Quickly sliding her hand from mine, coughing in a way that crumbles my heart. She returns my everything without a receipt. She returns everything I don’t want back, but I have no choice, I have to take it. I have to swallow it. Hard.
And now...now I have to run.
I cough without even realizing it, looking out to my brother and my best friend, keeping my eyes nowhere near her as I try and find my voice, "Hey guys, I think I should be going, big day tomorrow."
Her eyes shoot through me, right through me, as I slide out from my chair, and before I can leave, something stops me. Something in the form of her hand grabbing onto mine beneath the table. Holding mine like I held hers mere minutes ago.
“Hey no, Spence, don’t go.”
I can’t believe this. I can not fucking believe this. She ignores me all night, she practically throws me away, and now she’s trying to pull me back.
Well it’s not gonna happen.
Looking to no one, I focus on my purse, pretending to gather things inside it, on my lap. “Yeah, no. I can’t stay, I have to get up really early. So, no, I gotta go.”
Without giving her a second chance to grab my hand again, without giving her any more opportunities to try and convince me to stay -- because I’ll only listen if she gets even the slightest one more chance -- I push out from my chair, somewhat wobbly, praying I don't knock over anything in the middle of my fast get away.
Praying I don't make a scene as I break a promise.
"So, yeah, I'm going to go." I’m still ridiculously mumbling, hoping words can cover my pain. Hoping my voice can reassure any worry.
And Ashley's eyes keep darting inside me. Keep pushing, convincing, pulling me toward her. But I don’t go there. I don’t look at her. I can't. I just can’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m escaping how those unreadable eyes feel. They are scorching with something that frightens me. Frightens me so much.
And maybe that’s why I won’t look at her.
“Figures. I’m the only Carlin who can hang.”
“Shut the fuck up Glen”
Even I jump back from my outburst. Even I feel a little disturbed by where it came from. But really, I’m not all that surprised. Really, I know I can’t keep it in anymore. I just can’t. I can’t sit back anymore and watch him have everything I want. Everything I need. Everything that fits with me.
Everything he could give two shits about.
“Jesus, someone’s testy tonight. Better that you leave.”
“Seriously, shut the fuck up, Glen!”
This time it’s Ashley coming to my rescue. And while she actually shuts him up, it doesn’t make me feel any better. It only make me feel worse. It only makes my chin tremble. A clear giveaway that I’m seconds away from waterfalling all over this bar.
I hope to God no one notices, but I know that’s pointless. I know that prayer is empty. There are two people at this close table who’ll certainly notice. Two people who know me so well, they read me like a billboard.
Ashley, who still hasn’t lifted her gaze off me.
“I think I’m gonna head home too. Here, I’ll walk you out, Spence.”
And Aiden. Aiden, who is already by my side, protective hand wrapped around my waist. A hand that has a line of fire burning through it, and as I finally look toward Ashley, as I finally test the waters, I realize it’s her eyes shooting that inferno. It’s her eyes that spell betrayal.
And I could care less. Because I can’t care about her right now, I have to care about me. I have to care about getting the hell out of this bar.
Hell, maybe even this town.
For now, all I can do is walk, keeping close to Aiden, leaning under the arm he has safely wrapped around my shoulder. Suddenly he looks so much like my knight in shining armor, and I can’t help but whisper a shaky, “Thank you,” into his ear.
And as he sincerely smiles my way, asking a quiet “For what?” like he hasn't just saved my life, I remember.
Clearly and vividly, I remember just why I keep him around.
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Chapter Twelve :: Big Regret, Bigger Advances