Chương 144: Chapter 2: Single l
-- SEPTEMBER 2005, SENIOR YEAR --
"Dead cow, dead chicken, or dead mystery meat?"
Airheaded blonde Tammy Toth held her empty paper plate and gave me a blank look. "Excuse me?"
"Burger, chicken, or hot dog," I explained. "Given your lack of bun, I'm guessing chicken."
Tammy cracked a smile and held up her plate while I used the tongs to pick up a chicken breast and hand it over. Perkily, she said, "Thanks, Ben."
"No sweat."
Tammy then leaned over and pecked my cheek, lingering for an extra moment to croon into my ear, "I must point out, though, that I have a very nice pair of buns, should you care to look."
That put a little smile on my face. I watched the busty blonde sashay off with a little extra wiggle in her hips so that I could ogle her ... uh ... buns. But my attention was drawn back as Vivian Wang held up her burger bun-adorned plate and chirped, "Dead cow, please."
After one spatula-delivery of burger patty to Vivian's plate, the pretty Chinese girl hopped up on her tip-toes and also gave me a peck on the cheek. I chuckled aloud this time, and she winked at me before returning to her friends.
Meli Kanemura stepped up. "I'm not so sure about this..." she mumbled while arching an eyebrow at me.
I blushed and shook my head. "There's no requirement to kiss me. Tammy and Vivian are just flirting."
Meli's eyebrows popped and she gave me a lopsided grin. "Oh, no. Not that." She quickly stepped into me, wrapping her free arm around my neck and pulling me down while darting her tongue into my mouth and locking her lips to mine. But just as suddenly as she'd approached, the impish Hawaiian girl stepped back and smiled. "I'd kiss you anytime..."
"Ale ko'u kai..." I mumbled with a sizzle in my eyes.
"That an offer?" She jutted a hip out with one hand on it, raising her chin up challengingly.
I laughed, and she giggled, and then I returned to her original comment. "So then, what is it you weren't so sure about?"
Holding up her plate, Meli complained, "Well I was going to get a hot dog. But that 'mystery meat' crack didn't sound appealing."
I grinned. "Relax, they're 100% kosher Hebrew Nationals. Brooke made me drive out to Costco last night for supplies."
"Well in that case..." Meli proffered her plate.
Once Meli left, I surveyed the remaining crowd. There were about two dozen people milling around my house, the vast majority of them current sophomores. Brooke's and DJ's little circle of friends had grown over the past year, and there were a number of satellite acquaintances also present at this shindig. It had been DJ's idea to continue the "Back to School" barbecue tradition begun last year, even though my inner clique had more or less disintegrated and Kim's biker friends were not in attendance.
Kim herself wasn't here, either. With Bert off visiting Lynne for the weekend and no other close friends around, Kim had offered to postpone her trip home to give me some "adult" company as she put it. My dirty mind had instantly inferred that she planned on finally having sex with me again after gently turning down my advances for the past several days, but she was quick to explain that she just meant having someone else over the age of 20 be present. I'd told her I would manage without her company, and Kim had gone home to her family. She and her motorcycle would return on Sunday, so for the meantime, I found myself the lone Senior amongst a bevy of nubile teenaged coeds.
This status in and of itself was reason to flirt with me. It was an interesting phenomenon I'd come to witness over the many years of my academic education: young girls always liked flirting with older guys. I suppose it made them feel older and more mature themselves. Add in my natural male hunkiness, the fact that I was Master of the Grill, and the female-heavy ratio of those in attendance, and I became the frequent target of female attention.
I was used to it by now. Years of being the Grill Master at Elaine Fukuhara's parties had schooled me in the ways of multi-tasking meat-cooking, meat-serving, and flirtatious conversation. Plus, flirting with this group of girls had always been a comfortable, innocuous routine. For all of last year, the girls had known me as Brooke's older brother who would banter back and forth with them without actually making a pass. Despite my somewhat legendary reputation on campus, I'd been clearly devoted to my girlfriend Dawn and had stated plainly to the collective group that I didn't want to get involved with one of Brooke's friends out of concern for my little sister's happiness.
But that was last year.
Dawn was now out of the picture. I was known to be single. And far be it from me to put a damper on anyone's evening by refusing to engage in at least "polite" conversation with these guests visiting my home. I'm not saying I would actually bed any of them – not without being quite sure of how such a liaison would affect both their and my relationship with Brooke – but I certainly didn't see any harm in flirting back.
I only spent the first hour as Lord of the Flames, our Weber grill big enough to cook plenty of food for the whole crowd with minimal delay. After that, I left the remaining meat, corn, and foil-wrapped potatoes under the hood to keep warm and decided to disappear up into my bedroom and leave my sister's friends alone.
I had just made it up two steps in the stairwell when someone called out behind me, "Hey, leaving already?"
I turned around and involuntarily my eyes dropped down to some very nice cleavage wrapped in a pink halter top. From my elevated position, I had a particularly good view, made even better when the girl in question crossed her arms beneath her breasts and lifted them up for me.
Smiling, I raised my gaze to the face of Alexis 'Lexi' Gilmore, a very pretty green-eyed brunette who'd been Meli's roommate since both girls arrived on campus last year. Shrugging, I replied, "I figured you froshlings would loosen up and have more fun without Big Brother hovering over you."
"'Froshlings'?" Brooke had been walking by and stopped when she overheard me. My little sister pouted, "We're not 'froshlings' anymore. Every one of us here is at least a sophomore now."
Leaning on the stair railing, I smirked as I sipped my "to go" bottle of Corona before shaking my head and replying, "Though you're no longer first-year students, you'll always be 'froshlings' to me."
My little sister rolled her eyes and then kept on walking, returning to the living room. Lexi watched her go before turning back to me. "You're not just any big brother. You're cool. Everyone is chill around you. Come back. Please?" And with that, the pretty teenager extended a hand out to me, inviting me to take it.
Well, it IS quite difficult to turn down such a beautiful girl, especially when she's giving you that doe-eyed puppy dog look. Chuckling, I allowed myself to take her hand and she quickly interlaced her fingers through mine.
"I think being one of your froshlings is pretty cool," Lexi sighed as she tugged me over to the living room. "Makes me feel like we're more special than the other girls on campus."
"Of course," I replied. "You all are my sister's best friends."
Lexi gave me a coy look while biting her lower lip. "Yeah well maybe this year, we can be your friends, too."
I arched an eyebrow at that comment, but Lexi was already looking forward. As we entered the room, Joel Cha, Brooke's boyfriend, and Carlos Verdugo both gave me head nods in greeting. I raised my bottle in salute back to them and then found that Lexi was directing me into an available spot at one end of a couch. And after I plopped down, she settled her Daisy Duke-covered ass onto the armrest beside me.
"Everybody thank Ben for doing all the cooking!" DJ announced.
"Thanks, Ben!" came back the resounding chorus.
I grinned and glanced up as Lexi batted her eyelashes at me and dropped her hand ever-so-casually to scratch at my bare knee. There certainly were worse ways to spend a Friday evening.
The next morning, I yawned as I entered the empty kitchen, feeling a little out of sorts but not quite able to put a finger on exactly why. My sleep had been ... okay ... It's not like I'd spent hours tossing and turning or anything, but I knew that I'd had more restful nights. Truth be told, I'd been feeling off now for days.
As my stomach gurgled, I figured that a nice breakfast would be just the thing to make me feel better. I opened up the refrigerator, staring at the carton of eggs and various other supplies of food in pre-preparation form. I weighed my distinctly lacking ability as a chef against my current hunger, and with a sigh decided I was probably best off pouring some cereal and milk.
Hmm, maybe a drive over to Carl's Jr wasn't out of the question.
But just when I was about to surrender to the temptations of fast food, I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Brooke join me in the kitchen, wearing a light bathrobe and her unkempt hair held up with a clip. "Oh, thank goodness you're up," I remarked with obvious relief.
My little sister smirked at me while shaking her head. "You know, maybe you should spend this extra time you've got as a single man teaching yourself how to cook."
"The thought has occurred to me."
Just then, Joel entered the kitchen as well and blushed as he stammered out a greeting. No matter how familiar one can be with a guy, it's always a little awkward to run into your girlfriend's big brother the morning after you've obviously spent the night.
"Sit down," Brooke told us both as she rolled up her sleeves. "I'm making french toast."
Joel and I shrugged at each other, and we wandered out into the living room to park ourselves on the couch. The TV remote was quickly in my hand and college football was quickly on the screen. It was opening weekend, but the Bears weren't playing Sacramento State until 2pm. So we settled for channel surfing the rest of the nationally-televised games for the next fifteen minutes or so until my other roommates emerged from their room as well.
"Oh hey, football," Josh Kohn exclaimed as he came into the room. Immediately, Joel's best friend and DJ's boyfriend crossed over to the other couch and plopped himself into a seat. I glanced back to see DJ roll her eyes as she smirked and went into the kitchen to help Brooke.
Fifteen minutes later, all five of us sat around the dining table eating breakfast. We made casual chit-chat, although Josh and Joel kept getting distracted by the football game we'd left running on the TV. After breakfast, the guys kissed their girlfriends goodbye, and then both of them departed, leaving me alone with the two girls.
"So ... what happened to your little bed-partner?" Brooke nudged me with an elbow to the ribs, now that we had some privacy. "I woke up this morning expecting to make french toast for six."
I blinked and furrowed my eyebrows. "Huh?"
DJ giggled. "We mean Lexi. That girl was ALL over you last night."
"So what happened?" Brooke repeated. "We SAW you two go upstairs. Did you kick her out and send her home after blowing her mind?"
"Not very gentlemanly of you," DJ drawled.
I frowned, shaking my head. "I didn't kick her out. We didn't hook up at all."
Brooke's eyebrows popped wide open. "Seriously?"
I blinked rapidly while giving the girls a blank expression, and then arched an eyebrow. "She's your friend. I'm not messing around with that."
Now it was DJ's turn to chirp in surprise, "Seriously?"
Brooke shook her head. "Hey, it's not my business what you or Lexi do. I never told you my friends were off-limits."
I shrugged. "You didn't have to. It was always my choice."
DJ frowned. "Laying off the froshlings was one thing when you and Dawn were still together. But you're a single guy now. You're telling me you turned down getting laid last night?"
I shrugged again, and then winced at the notion. Maybe that was why I'd been feeling off all morning. As good as Brooke's french toast was, satisfying my hunger hadn't cured my current malaise. "Well ... yeah. You're right, Lexi made it pretty clear she was interested, and I had to turn her down several times. After she followed me up into my bedroom, I tried to let her down gently."
"But WHY?" DJ asked, still confused.
"You know why. WE'VE talked about this, Deej. I'm not ready for any kind of relationship."
DJ shook her head. "Lexi wasn't going to try and tie you down into a relationship. It's the beginning of the school year and she was having a good time. She just wanted to hook up for an evening, that's all."
Brooke nodded. "She said as much when she asked my permission to seduce you."
My eyebrows popped. "She what?"
Brooke shrugged. "Like you said: she's my friend, and you're my brother."
I mused on that for a moment before sighing. "It just ... It didn't feel right, alright?" I glanced toward the door, double-checking to make sure Joel and Josh were long gone and that the three of us were completely alone. Then lowering my voice slightly I explained, "Sex with you two is one thing ... We're family. We're special. Kim and Paige aren't family, but it's kind of the same thing. I just ... I don't know that I'm ready to do that with anyone outside of this group, you know?"
The expressions on both girls' faces softened as they gave me pitying looks. Brooke reached over and rubbed my arm, saying, "You don't have to explain anything more. This soon after Dawn ... If you don't feel ready yet, you don't feel ready."
"Thanks."
Brooke nodded, but DJ bit her lip and tilted her head to the side. "So when's the last time you got laid then?"
I blinked, raising my eyebrows as I considered that. "Uh ... well ... I guess it would have been the last time you came to my room."
DJ frowned. "But that was ... Wednesday morning!"
I shrugged. "It's only been a few days. Kim's being very mysterious with me and I don't want to push her. It's not like she OWES me anything. And Paige will visit again on Tuesday, so it's not like I'm staring into the abyss of eternal abstinence."
Still frowning, DJ got up and put one knee on her chair, reaching across the table and touching her hand to my forehead as if checking for a fever. "You feeling alright?"
I chuckled, furrowing my forehead against her hand. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."
"Backed up? A little excess pressure buildup? Are you even jerking off?"
I winced, the conversation suddenly turning awkwardly personal, even though it was just Brooke and DJ. "Uh, no..."
Shaking her head, DJ grabbed my wrist and then stood up, attempting to tug me out of my chair. Turning back to look at Brooke, she head-nodded toward the hallway and asked, "Wanna come?"
Brooke rolled her eyes and shook her head, a bemused smile on her face. "Nah, I'm good." She waved us onward and then propped both elbows on the table to sip her coffee.
"Wait, wait, Deej..." I began, resisting her pull and remaining seated. "You don't have to do this."
"I want to," she replied with glittering eyes. "Even though we're not together, I want to know that you're taken care of. I thought Lexi would end up handling this for you last night, but that didn't happen."
"It's no big deal."
"It is to ME," she stated vehemently as she began pulling me with both hands, momentarily getting my butt off the cushion before I sat back down. "Please, I want to do this for you. You'll feel so much better, and I'll feel so much better knowing that you've been satisfied, alright?"
"Deej--"
"Don't argue with me," she stated abruptly, cutting me off as she dropped my hands and propped her fists on her hips to glare at me. "Just let me do this for you, alright?"
Taking a deep breath, I evaluated this gorgeous blonde bombshell, her chest heaving and her face flushed as she stared at me with a look of heartbreaking love and concern. My mind flashed back to the aforementioned Wednesday morning, when we'd skirted the line between love and lust only to pull ourselves back from the brink at the last moment.
A part of me knew it would probably be best not to tempt ourselves. But then again, I knew I could never bring myself to deny DJ forever. I cared about her too much for that. And to be perfectly honest, I lusted for her too much for that.
Sensing that she had me nearly convinced, DJ tugged on my hand and reached out to grab my head. Pulling my face toward her chest, she bent over and then whispered into my ear, "You didn't put it in my ass last time, even though I asked you so nicely."
[SPROING]
Well, my hard erection was answering for me.
Taking a deep breath, I propped myself up on my elbows and turned my head to look toward the closet. DJ was bent over at the waist wearing nothing but thong panties, the cherry red fabric disappearing into the crack of her ass. Standing upright, she slipped her hands through the nude-colored bra she'd fished out of her drawer and then slithered the garment up her arms, removing the heavenly sight of her 34DD breasts from view and then reaching behind herself to fasten the clasp.
Silently, I continued watching her boobs jiggle as she flipped over a yellow baby T-shirt and wriggled into it. And she threw me a knowing smirk before turning around and bending over at the waist once again, giving me a fresh look at her ass while she rooted around finding the right pair of shorts to go with her top.
Only after DJ had fully dressed did I yawn and then roll myself out of her bed. I found my boxer shorts and pajama pants, sliding them on and then hopping up onto my feet. DJ was fiddling with her hair in front of her vanity before glancing back at me, biting her lip in concern. "You sure you're going to be alright?" she asked for the umpteenth time, tying her sunny blonde locks back with a scrunchy. "I hate the thought of leaving you in this big, empty house all day."
"I'll be fine," I insisted for the umpteenth time in reply as I sat back down on the bed. "Besides, I won't be in the house all day. I've decided to head out."
"Where're you going?"
"Stanford. I figure it's a good time to visit some old friends."
Looking quite relieved, DJ grinned and then sauntered over to me, sliding her right arm around my head and using her forearm to turn my face toward her. Bending over, she gave me a soul-searching kiss, biting a little bit at my lower lip when she eventually pulled away. And with a sigh, she nodded and said, "Okay, then. You just have to promise me you'll take care of yourself so that I won't keep worrying about you."
"'I will, I will," I laughed.
Without another word, DJ spun about and went back to her vanity, grabbing her purse. With agile thumbs, she began texting somebody. And now realizing that I was all but forgotten, I stood up and made my exit from the room. Time for me to get dressed too.
I felt oddly nostalgic as I drove the familiar roads to the Stanford apartment complex I once called home. I'd been here little more than a week ago, that last time I visited Amber unannounced and caught her just getting out of the shower. But even though it hadn't been so distant as measured in days, it felt like a lifetime ago.
Then, coming here had been like coming home.
Now, I was just a visitor.
At least I was still a welcome one.
"Hey there, stranger," Lynne greeted me as she opened the door. Without another word, she stepped forward to bury her face into my chest and wrap me up in a warm hug. We held it, silently, for a long few moments. No words were spoken; none were needed. This was simply Lynne's way of being here for me in the aftermath of my recent break-ups (plural).
She let go of me with a sigh and then backed up. And then as if the weightiness of the moment had evaporated in a puff of breath, she grinned and waved me in. "I'm sure you remember the old gang."
I nodded. Ivonne and the others wouldn't return until the academic school year resumed later in September. In the meantime, the usual suspects hung out in Lynne's living room: Bert, Kady, Noelle, and Amber. Bert grinned with a head nod. Kady was staring into a book but raised her right hand to flash me the peace sign. And Noelle just waved prettily.
But Amber paid me no mind. Curled up in an overstuffed armchair, she was dressed down in a baggy shirt and lounge pants, her hair in a ponytail and wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She was chewing on the cap of a ball-point pen and intently studying the slim paperback book she held in her left hand. She didn't even look up at my entrance, and after all we'd been through, I felt jilted to not even merit a "hello". So with a pout, I sauntered over to verbalize my sense of hurt.
But as I came alongside her, I noticed that she wasn't reading any novel. Instead, she held some collection of puzzles, the nine-by-nine grid of numbers instantly recognizable. "Since when did you get into Sudoku?" I asked without preamble.
Not even looking up at me, Amber mumbled around her pen cap, "E-Beth told me to play it."
I arched an eyebrow at the inflection in her voice. "'Told' you?"
"Told me. Without further explanation. Which means it has something to do with David." Glancing up at me with a shrug, she sighed and then returned to her puzzle.
Now I managed a slight smile. It was better this way. Would I rather see Amber laying on the friendly affection extra-thick in an effort to somehow make up for our recent split? 'Gee, sorry, I'd rather go back to my ex-boyfriend but I'm going to be really, really nice to you?'
No. This was Amber being Amber: the studious, driven young woman pushing herself through one of the toughest medical schools in the country. And when she put her mind to something – even something as banal as a Sudoku puzzle – it was hard to distract her.
With a grin, I leaned over and pecked her forehead, which somehow did get her attention. Blinking quickly as if only now recognizing that it was ME who had arrived, her smiled carried up into her blue eyes behind those glasses and she murmured, "Hey ... Nice of you to drop by." And I could tell by the warmth in her voice that she really meant it.
"Nice to be here," I replied.
But a moment later, Amber sighed as she propped an elbow on the armrest and tilted her head into her waiting palm. With a tsking sound clucking in her mouth, she shook her head slightly and gave me an appraising stare. "You've only been away what, a week? Are you seriously that codependent that you can't just be by yourself?"
My jaw dropped, but I quickly sucked it back up and gave my ex-girlfriend a harsh look. "I'm not here because I can't be alone. I'm here because I wanted to visit my friends." I waved across the room at the others.
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Prove it. Prove you can survive just fine on your own without coming back here."
My eyebrows furrowed as my heartbeat accelerated at the challenge. But just as suddenly as it had started, I frowned and gave Amber an even harder look. "I'm not going to stay away from people I care about just to prove a point to you. I honestly thought it would be nice to see you all again, especially since the last time I saw those friends, you and I were in the middle of breaking up. Speaking of which, is that was this is about? You want to see me but you still want to avoid me? Is my presence interfering with your ability to move on and focus on your David?"
Wincing, Amber bit her lip and averted her eyes. She may not have consciously been thinking of that, but I knew my comment was hitting close to home.
I took a deep breath and looked around. Everyone else in the room was staring straight at us. Sighing, my shoulders sagged and I head-nodded toward the door. "Maybe I should go. We did just go through a break-up, and while I thought we'd be alright with each other, I don't want to make things awkward for everyone."
Just as I started pulling away, Amber reached up and grasped my hand. Tugging me back, she steeled herself with a deep breath and pushed her glasses back up her nose with her free hand. "No, you don't need to go. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Besides: it's not my place to psychoanalyze you."
I snorted. "Don't worry. I'm used to it. Seemingly every girl in my life is constantly doing just that."
"Because we care about you," Lynne chimed in from behind me. "It's great to see you, but Amber's got a point. Are things so bad in Berkeley that you end up retreating back here the very first chance you get?"
I shook my head. "Nah. I could have gone to the gym and joined a pickup game of basketball. And there's always schoolwork to be done."
Lynne then reached out and squeezed Bert's hand. "But no close friends to 'hang' with anymore, huh?"
I sighed. Dawn was off on her sabbatical. Kim was home. Bert was here. And I hadn't seen or heard from Gwen or Robin in months. I exhaled slowly, and then shrugged helplessly. "I suppose I could've visited the Tri-Delt house and made a general announcement that I was single and available. But I guess I'd rather come here."
Lynne walked up to me and gave me another one of her warm, welcoming hugs. "Anytime."
"<BRAAAAAAP!>"
We broke our embrace and turned to see Kady grinning as she wiped her mouth after that righteous burp. Noelle was already slapping her forearm.
"Drop by anytime." Kady toasted me with her can. "But the next time you do, bring a case, will ya?"
"C'mon, dude. How hard can it be?" I muttered to myself, staring at the instructions on the back of the light blue box I held in my left hand. "Mix water, milk, and butter. Boil it. Throw in pasta. And stir it until it looks good, right?"
Yet despite my verbal self-encouragement, I remained staring at the box. After a pleasant day at Stanford, Lynne had suggested I stay for dinner. But one bemused glance from Amber thrust my wounded ego to the tip of my tongue, forcing me to insist aloud that I could cook for myself now. The girls had all chuckled at that, and Amber had deridingly promised to call me later tonight to verify my chef-tacular success.
I could've stopped off for food on the way home. I wouldn't even need to lie to Amber if she actually called, so long as I swallowed my pride and admitted I couldn't cook for myself. But fast food didn't seem appealing and the thought of sitting alone in a restaurant was even less so. And thus I'd found myself wandering up and down the aisles of Berkeley Bowl market, trying to find something simple to make without stooping so low as to buy frozen, microwaveable meals.
Pasta Roni seemed simple enough, and yet it was more daunting than almost anything I'd ever faced in my life. 'What's the worst that could happen?' I asked myself.
Well, you could DIE.
I took a deep breath. Try a new sport? No problem. Get into a fistfight over a friend in need? No problem.
Charge into an unknown motel room to rescue my baby sister from a gun-wielding Adam Dennis? In a heartbeat.
Mix water, milk, and butter without poisoning myself?
Uhh...
It wasn't that cooking was rocket science; I'd simply never done it before. Mom or my sisters always cooked at home; Dad taught me how to fix every square millimeter of the house. That was just the way it was.
"Live and learn," I sighed. Hell, by this point that could be my personal motto. Shoving my fingers under the flap, I popped the box open and glanced inside at the uncooked pasta and sealed packet of flavoring. With a shrug, I turned my hand to pour out the pasta into... Ah, hell.
A pot would be really useful right now.
Water, too.
Shit, I'm going to kill myself, aren't I?
Rolling my eyes, I set the Pasta Roni box down on the counter and started hunting around for a pot. In more than three years, I'd certainly seen the girls putter about the kitchen often enough that I should know where everything was. Yet food had been something I'd simply taken for granted all this time, so it still took me two tries to find the right drawer. And then I squatted down and began scanning the various articles of cookware inside, even going so far as to rummage around and peek at the pots and pans in the back just to make sure I was getting the right one.
"Well this is a sight I never expected to see."
The voice burst so unexpectedly from the silence around me that I immediately lost my balance as I tried to spin around. I didn't hit the cabinets very hard, really, so much as my body made a heavy thumping noise against them as I fell over.
DJ quickly covered her mouth with both hands, but there was no mistaking the amusement in her eyes. I gave her a wry grin as I went about righting myself, and she stepped into the kitchen to offer me a hand of assistance in getting up.
"What on Earth are you trying to do?"
I gestured to the Pasta Roni box. "Making dinner, what's it look like?"
"I see the box, and I see the pots, but one of these things just doesn't belong here... " She sang the last part from the old Sesame Street tune. "And that thing that doesn't fit the picture is you."
"Har, har."
"I'm serious. You hungry? I'll make you something."
"No-no. I can do this myself."
"You sure?" She looked rather skeptical.
I practically pouted as I replied, "Just because I haven't done this before doesn't mean I can't."
DJ stepped into me, sliding both hands around my waist and then leaning back a bit to look into my eyes. "Honey, many wonderful things you are ... but a cook is not one of them."
"Yet," I stated emphatically. "Not yet. And hey, I know how to work a grill pretty well. I'm a smart guy; I can figure this out on my own."
"I know you're a smart guy, but you don't have to figure it out on your own."
"I'll be fine. With no girlfriend and no immediate plans to get one, I've got a lot of free time on my hands. No better time than the present to learn."
"Then learn, okay? I'll teach you. And Brooke too, and maybe Kim." DJ reached a hand up and tousled my hair before patting my cheek. "You have friends and family who care about you, and are willing to spend time with you on this. Let's start with this, uh, Fettuccine Alfredo. I'll help you this time, make sure you don't poison yourself, and the next time you need to make it, you'll know exactly what to do. Cool?"
My ego told me I could do this on my own, but she had a point. Lots of things in life were important to learn by yourself, but cooking really wasn't one of them. It was a life skill, typically taught from parent to child. But then again, I wasn't a child. "I just don't want to bother you with this. Young, active college student like you surely has better things to do than babysit me in the kitchen."
DJ smiled and then got up on her tip-toes to peck my lips. With a twinkle in her eye, she replied, "Believe me, I'm exactly where I want to be."
Saturday night's impromptu class on How To Make Pasta Roni turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg in the Grand Ben Improvement Project. When Brooke came home from her date and found out that DJ had helped me start cooking for myself, my little sister smacked herself in the forehead and exclaimed, "Why didn't -I- think of that?"
Unfortunately for me, Brooke's enthusiasm for the plan led to her waking me up early on Sunday morning to start cooking lessons when I would have much rather slept in for at least another hour.
Fortunately for me, Brooke still subscribed to the Blowjob-as-Alarm Clock method for waking me.
By the end of the morning, I could make both scrambled and hard-boiled eggs. Neither task was particularly difficult; I just needed to be guided through them once from start to finish. The hardest part for me was being patient enough with the hard-boiled to let them cool down in ice water after boiling. My attempts at poached and sunny-side up were less successful. Technically, one could say that my poached egg was indeed poached, but it wasn't a pretty sight. And I cracked the yolk dome on the sunny-side while trying to get it out of the pan.
But all-in-all, I at least now felt like I could feed myself if need be. And after getting through those first two lessons, I wondered what the hell I'd been so afraid of all these years. Making food delicious could well take me a long time to master, but feeding myself without resorting to fried grease now appeared easily achievable.
By the time Brooke and I were done, DJ was up and ready to help us eat all those eggs. And then she insisted that the both of them stick around the house for the rest of the morning and then teach me how to make spaghetti for lunch.
In the afternoon, the girls left to hang out with their friends while I went to the gym to join in some pick-up basketball games. And when we all returned home for dinner, I found that the girls had already briefed Kim on "Project Ben", and for the third time in one day I found myself slaving away in the kitchen, this time using a rice cooker and stir-frying chicken and vegetables under my roommate's guidance.
"The circle is now complete," Kim intoned in her deepest voice. "When I left you, I was but the learner. Now -I- am the master."
I rolled my eyes at the quote. "I don't think it's quite the same..."
Kim giggled and then ordered me what to do next.
But Project Ben was more than just cooking. During dinner, the girls sat down with me and discussed other ways I could spend my single time doing self-improvement. Brooke thought a self-defense class (or a "beat the shit out of bad guys class" as she put it) would be an excellent use of my time. DJ wanted me to take dancing lessons. And Kim wanted me to finally get my motorcycle license.
Within days, I was signed up at a nearby Krav Maga Institute both Mondays AND Thursdays to learn that the best self-defense is a good offense. Brooke had a lot of input on that one, having done her research and decided it was the best martial art to teach me how to literally kick ass. Ballroom dancing would be on Wednesdays. And since I'd already had my motorcycle permit for well over six months by now, Kim was going to spend Tuesday nights prepping me to take the license exam as soon as I was ready.
Plus, Paige would still be visiting every Tuesday afternoon.
Between these scheduled evening activities, my Senior year course load, and of course, my continuing culinary education, I had plenty of things to keep me occupied. That was good, because while I was still trying to wrap my head around all the new recipes and activities being thrown at me, SHE called.
// Drench yourself in words unspoken, Live your life with arms wide open
// Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten.
I didn't recognize the number or even the area code when it showed up on my phone, and given that my pot was just about to start boiling, I was inclined to let the call go to voicemail. But just as my ringtone was about to come to an end, I was seized by a sudden sense of urgency, like I KNEW it was her, and then I couldn't get the phone back out of my pocket fast enough.
"Hello?" I asked uncertainly, not 100% positive of the caller's identity until I heard her voice. Hell, it could still be a telemarketer.
But it was her. "Hi, Ben," she replied with a sigh of pent-up relief.
I was sighing as well, the anxious tension that had gripped my heart now abating with the familiar sound of her voice. No matter what had happened to us this past summer, her voice felt like it was encoded in my DNA. The hardest part about being away from her was just that: being away from her. And to hear that melodious tone say my name felt like a soothing balm over the open wound in my heart that still missed her.
"Hi, Dawn," I replied, closing my eyes and bowing my head, warding away the entire world around me so that I could concentrate solely on the voice coming through the phone.
But before I could do so, my now-boiling pot started rattling the lid. Darting a glance at it, I turned to find DJ giving me a curious look. Trapping the phone between my cheek and shoulder, I snapped my fingers and gestured at the pot, saying, "Can you take over please? It's Dawn."
DJ blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly and nodded. She stepped up to the range as I stepped away, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. Brooke was out of the house, still with her friends, but Kim was doing school work on the dining table. She glanced up at me as I came out, but didn't interrupt as I went straight past her and up the stairs to my room.
In the meantime, Dawn and I were trying to figure out what to say to each other. She was calling me, just like she'd promised, but now that I was on the line neither of us knew where to begin. I certainly wasn't ready for any truly emotional conversation just yet. So we settled for trying to get through our momentary awkwardness by catching each other up on our lives since she'd departed for Morris Camp. She already knew that Brooke and DJ had returned to campus, but I told her that Kim had moved back into the other upstairs bedroom. "Just as a roommate," I added hastily. "We're not going back to the Master-sub thing again."
"I see," she replied neutrally.
"How's Camp?" I asked, changing the subject. "Are you enjoying this new Ranch Hand thing?"
"I am, actually." Dawn went on to outline the program for me, explaining that there were 24 of them working together as a team year-round, in part making major renovations the owners had long delayed, but also cross-training on all the different responsibilities they might have when the tourists came back next spring and summer.
I asked if there were any of those duties that she enjoyed more than others. And I also asked if she was getting along with the other ranch hands, wincing at my tone, worried that she'd hear my unspoken question about whether or not she'd found a particular guy (or girl) to be especially crush-worthy.
But her responses were appropriately tame. She mentioned how her gourmet cooking class had been a big help from the first minute she was assigned to kitchen duty. And while these initial few weeks until the end of tourist season meant that the new ranch hands were spending most of their time shadowing the experienced regular staffers, she'd shown some real interest in working with the horses and had thought about asking those in charge if she could spend more time in the stables.
As for the other ranch hands, she told me that her roommate was a little quirky but very nice. She had an amusing anecdote about said 5'4", 115-pound roommate having to rescue some fat guy from drowning the other day. And she did mention that there was a stacked blonde up there who was just my type.
But then it was her turn to ask about my life, and with a blurted rush of words that sounded like she hadn't really meant to ask me, she said, "How about you? Is there anyone special in your life?"
"Special?" I replied quickly, my heart tightening again at the implications of her question.
"Well I don't mean special," Dawn added hastily, and I could actually envision her wincing on the other end of the line. "I just mean: I know you and your way with women and I guess I was wondering if there was anyone in particular that you ... uh ... liked, or could maybe like or ... I mean ... Ah, shit."
"You want to know if I have another girlfriend already?"
"I'm sorry. I should never have asked that."
"No, no, it's okay."
"No, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business whether or not you're dating or you've fallen in love or maybe if you're not doing either of those things and just sorta immersing yourself in Tri-Delts to pass the time or oh SHIT I need to stop talking right now."
At any other time, I would have been amused by Dawn's rambling. It was almost comical the way I could absolutely tell that she wasn't just idly curious about my love life, but was in fact VERY concerned about my love life and deeply worried whether or not I had fallen in love with someone other than her.
It was that concern that got to me. Some might chalk it off to jealousy from the ex-girlfriend, an almost spiteful wish that if she couldn't have me then no one could have me. I'd known a few broken-up couples in my time, and it was only too common for one of them to sincerely hope the other lived a miserable and loveless existence for the rest of their life.
But I didn't hear any spite in Dawn's voice, and for all our failures at communication over the last year or so, I liked to think I could still read her moods. She was honestly worried that I'd found someone "special" (her word, not mine), and that meant that she still cared.
Dawn still cared.
I'd gone through a lot of conflicting emotions in the last few weeks alone, from my "not-relationship" with Lynne to falling head over heels for Amber to Dawn's one return to the Berkeley house just before leaving again for Morris Camp. I'd alternately missed and hated Dawn for what she'd meant to me and what she'd done to me. But one thing I didn't think I could ever change was that -I- still cared about her, and despite her putting on the "Ben Forever" bracelet and assuring me that one way or another she would always love me, I still worried that this sabbatical off to camp was just her first step in moving on with her life – moving on away from me.
It had only been a couple of weeks, but for now at least, I knew that she still cared. And my mind was suddenly filled with a very sincere wish I had made two weeks ago while watching her car drive away into the distance:
Find yourself, and then come home.
Things could still work between us. WE could still be together. Hey, Daniel and Elaine had made it work in the end, hadn't they? Dawn had assured me I'd done nothing wrong in our relationship. She'd insisted that our problems were hers and hers alone. And while I was loathe to let her shoulder all of the blame for the implosion of our seemingly perfect life together, the logical me agreed that the majority of our problems stemmed from HER unreadiness and HER hurtful actions.
She could still fix herself. I believed in her. And I still held hope that she truly wanted to come back to me. After all, wasn't that why she had gone to Morris Camp of all places? She could have taken a leave of absence from school and backpacked around Europe, doing drugs and meeting varied and interesting people who may or may not interest her sexually. She could have gone any number of places and done any number of things with her life, but she'd chosen to return to the one place in this world that was most special to US.
I could see her in our clearing, hugging her knees to her chest and soaking in all the touchstone reminders of who we used to be together. I could see her reminiscing nostalgically about that more pure and innocent love we had for each other when we were younger. She'd said she needed to find herself again. If she was at Morris Camp, that meant finding the Dawn she used to be when she belonged with ME, didn't it?
I wanted her with me. I wanted her by my side, not hundreds of miles away. I wanted to help her heal, wanted her to let ME help HER find herself. But for whatever reasons, she couldn't do that. I would have rather had a completely imperfect Dawn in this very room with me, letting me talk to her face-to-face instead of over the phone. Even if we didn't get back together right away, even if we were purely platonic with each other and living in different buildings, at least she would be HERE for me to HELP.
But she wasn't. She was up there. And I was down here.
And I couldn't do anything about it.
Well, there was one thing I HAD to do:
Wait for her.
Wait for her. Trust in our love for each other. Not trust in Destiny – that was still a crock of shit our mothers had been spoon-feeding to us before we could even eat from spoons. But trust in the twenty-one YEARS of bonding we had done with each other ... trust in HER.
It was hard – trust was hard – especially after she'd cheated on me. I HATED her for it. It had hurt. It had cut me deeply, but ... well ... not as much as her absence. Everyone makes mistakes. -I- certainly had made a lot of mistakes, up to and including cheating. Hadn't I wanted second chances? Hadn't I been given second chances?
I still loved her. Perhaps I would always love her. I had come THIS close to settling down with Amber and being happy for the rest of our lives. But she knew she belonged with her David and I ... well ... I honestly had been projecting Dawn onto her as well.
I didn't feel whole without my soulmate, and I desperately wanted to feel whole again. So I had to believe ... believe that she'd come back if I'd only just wait for her.
So that was the plan. Dawn would be up there, fixing herself in preparation to come back to me. And I would be here, making myself a better man as well ... for HER.
"Ben?"
Her voice was shaky, and full of fear. I didn't know how long I'd been silent in my introspection, but apparently that interval had been enough to set her nerves on edge. Quickly, I answered, "No, no. There's nobody special in my life, and actually, I haven't talked to any of the Tri-Delts since I got back to the house."
"Really?"
"Really," I confirmed. "Quite honestly, I'm trying to get along by myself for a while. Seriously, there's NO romance on my current horizon, and I've actually gotten my time all scheduled up with these self-improvement things. The girls call it 'Project Ben'."
"'Project Ben'?"
I chuckled. "Krav Maga, motorcycling, even Ballroom Dancing. Plus, all three of them are teaching me how to cook."
"You? Cooking?"
"Believe it or don't." I grinned as Edward James Olmos suddenly popped into my mind.
"But what about ... Ah ... Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that you're taking such an interest in learning these things for yourself. But I know you, and you're not trying to be ... uh ... abstinent or anything, are you? Because you really don't have to be. Not for me. If anything, you deserve--"
"Hey, hey. Let's not get tied up in the guilt over this right now."
"But I mean it. I need to know you're being taken care of. Brooke and DJ are doing that for you, aren't they?"
"Well ... uh ... yeah," I admitted.
"Good." There was a tone of relief in her sigh. "Good."
I chuckled at her response. My ex-girlfriend was relieved to know I was still banging our two little sisters. Go figure. But then, that was part of what made her special. "In fairness, I should tell you they're not the only two."
"Kim?"
"No, actually," I replied while thinking of the way things had gone with her ever since the beginning of school. Although we did have sex that first day of classes, and then there were the blowjobs to warm me up for Paige, Kim had kept me strictly at arm's length ever since. I got the distinct impression that she had some specific plan in that inscrutable mind of hers, and for now I knew there wouldn't be any repeat performances. "I told you that she's just a roommate. We're not resuming that kind of relationship. The only other one is Paige, actually."
"She's back at school?"
"Part-time. She's commuting up a few times a week while her Aunt and Uncle watch the baby. It's nothing serious, nothing romantic. Just sort of a regular Tuesday appointment so that--"
"So that the little horn-ball single mom can get her jollies once a week," Dawn finished for me.
"Something like that."
"Okay. That's cool."
I chuckled. "Glad you approve."
"Oh my gawd, no. No-no. That's not right. You DON'T need my approval," Dawn said hurriedly.
"I didn't mean it like that. Just trying to make a joke."
"Oh, I know, but I don't want you think that I'm going to sit up here and pass judgment on your sex life." She took a deep breath and clearly gathered herself. "I admit that I'm curious. I want to know how you're doing, but it's not about jealousy. I honestly wish nothing but happiness for you."
"Me too, for you."
"I know."
Neither of us spoke the unspoken thought: that we both wished we could be happy TOGETHER.
Dawn took another deep breath. "This is not about you getting my approval. I'm not your girlfriend, and you owe me no loyalty. I fucked things up, and I'm out here serving my penance."
"You don't have to."
"Yes I DO," she shot back so quickly and so vehemently that I actually backed away from the phone, holding a hand up placatingly even though she couldn't see me.
In a calmer tone, she then repeated, "Yes, I do."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this."
"I know, I know. I just ... Ben ... I know I hurt you SO bad and--"
"I told you, I don't want to get tied up in the guilt right now. What happened, happened. I don't like it any more than you do, but I'm trying to move past it. And I know you are, too."
"I am. There's a lot about myself I need to figure out. A lot I need to fix."
"And that's why you've gone to Morris Camp," I finished for her, already knowing it in my gut.
"Uh, yeah," she replied.
"You don't know who you are anymore."
"Uh, yeah!" she said with a little more surprise in her voice.
"And you think that is the place where you'll find yourself again. Because it's special ... special to US."
She started sniffling just then. "Thank you for understanding."
"I still love you, Dawn."
"Oh my gawd ... Ben..."
"There's a lot that went wrong between us, but I still love you."
"Ben..."
"I feel it. I believe it. I KNOW it. I'm letting my emotions get the best of me right now. And I HATE you at the same time for what you did to me. But I'm trying to move past it. Some days it's easy to forget the last few months ever happened and think only of the past twenty-one years we had together. I FORGIVE you, Dawn. I already forgave you. Now I just miss you."
"I miss you, too."
"Then come back to me. Let us work this out together."
"Ben, I--"
"You can't," I sighed, interrupting her again.
"Please understand."
"I do, I do. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I do."
"Thank you."
"Just ... fix yourself, okay? Become the Dawn that makes you happy again."
"I'm trying."
"I know. And until then ... I guess..." I took a deep breath, thinking of my future, thinking of OUR future, and all that we could be together. It was a dream I'd had for a long time, a dream I now believed was at least partially instilled in me by my parents, but a dream I'd been dreaming for a long time nonetheless. "I guess, well ... I'm waiting for you."
"Ben, I LOVE you," she said suddenly.
I took another deep breath. "I know. Just ... come home soon, okay?"
"I'll try."
"Alright, class. Everyone should already be familiar with the drill by now. At this time we will be forming project teams for the rest of the year." Viktoriya Isakova was simultaneously beautiful and intimidating as she stood at the lectern. Her crisp blouse and black skirt were professional and yet flattering to her figure. Her model-worthy face was made severe by her tight bun, and yet having her chestnut brown hair up highlighted her long, graceful neck. And of course, her cool blue irises penetrated every corner of the room when she looked around, those eyes being the source of her nickname "Professor Ice".
This year, everyone was expected to be capable of handling more tasks than we had the previous year, so group sizes were being reduced. And although the professor's Junior year course was a pre-requisite for this one, there'd been enough mixing between her two classes that most students ended up with completely different teammates from the prior year.
Except, of course, us. Bert and I were grouped together with Kim and Sasha, and Viktoriya gave us a stern warning not to scare off our remaining two ladies.
"Favoritism much?" Sasha grinned at me once the four of us faced our chairs at each other. We'd been sitting together already.
"Professor Isakova has never been shy about that," Kim spoke up. "Everyone already knows we're her pet team."
"So ... Ben's still team leader?" Bert asked with raised eyebrows.
I shrugged. "I'm open to change if anyone is interested." I rather pointedly looked at Sasha, remembering how driven she'd been the previous year.
She smiled and waved me off. "Nah, I'm good. You got me an 'A' last year, and I'll settle for nothing less this year."
"No pressure," Bert ribbed, quite literally elbowing me in the side.
I laughed and took a deep breath. "Okay then, first order of business: Where and when do we meet? Class isn't right before lunch anymore."
"It's kind of right before dinner," Bert said.
"You eat dinner at 4 o'clock?" Sasha quipped.
"Why don't we meet at our house?" Kim suggested. "It's been fairly vacant lately."
"No more revolving door of girls stopping by," Bert agreed with a grin.
Sasha shot Bert a harsh look, as if his statement would somehow wound me. But I nodded my agreement. "Works for me. Indoors, lots of space, and it's sort of on the way between here and the BART station for you two to get home afterward. That is, if you have the time. If either of you would rather head straight home, we can pick another time to meet."
"No, no," Sasha replied. "I'm in no rush to get home and that's a perfect time slot."
"Me, too," Bert added. "I'd rather meet right after class than lose an hour in the middle of the day somewhere."
"Alrighty then," I said, smiling at Kim for the suggestion. "Looks like we're set."
The project team spent a very productive hour in my living room, and by the end of it, I felt really confident that we would be just as successful as our previous year's team had been, if not more.
Bert and Sasha made plans to walk to the BART station together. But first, Bert asked if he could raid my latest downloaded MP3s, and Kim and Sasha wanted to chat about girl stuff for a bit anyway. My buddy followed me up to my room, whipping out a thumb drive and plugging it into my laptop. But rather than sort through my collection looking for stuff he wanted to steal, he simply sorted my folder by date and then blind-copied everything I'd gotten since he was last at my house. With the transfer having started, he then spun around in my desk chair and leveled me with a look. "So..." His expression was one of disapproval. "How are things with Kim?"
I blinked in surprised at the topic. "Uh ... what?"
"Kim? Fukuzaki? Beautiful Japanese chick who spent most of last year totally in love with you and currently lives in the room right over there?" He jerked a thumb at my closed door for emphasis.
"I don't quite get what you mean. Kim? Me? We're friends. We're fine."
"Are you now?" Bert's tone was that of a school teacher questioning whether or not his student was SURE he had the right answer. Putting his palms together, he rhythmically tapped his fingers sequentially from pinky to thumb while giving me an interrogatory look. "So tell me about this... 'fine' ... you are, young padawan."
I cracked a smile and shook my head. "What's with all the Star Wars references?"
Bert shrugged. "Group of friends had a DVD marathon last week. Your roommate was there, too."
By "roommate", I knew that he wasn't referring to Brooke or DJ. That certainly explained Kim's "Now -I- am the master" reference the other day. Clearly, Bert was getting at something, and rather than sit back and play twenty-questions with him, I decided to cut to the chase. "Bert, spit it out."
"No, no ... if you say everything's fine then--"
"BERT," I growled.
He sighed and shrugged.
"Did Kim tell you something is wrong?"
"No, no. Nothing like that." The melodramatic tones were gone from his voice. He sat up straight and fixed me with a serious look. "I'm just worried about her, that's all."
I raised my eyebrows. "Does Lynne know about your 'special concern' for your one-time infatuation?"
Bert snorted and waved me off. "Kim and I talk on the phone a few times a week, and we try to meet up during the day. I've got a girlfriend, and she knows I'm over the whole crush thing. So there's no tension and we're still pretty good friends. YOU don't really spend a whole lot of time with her, so she's got some extra time on her hands."
"Is that what this is about? She tell you she wants to spend more time with me?"
"I don't know. You tell me. One would think that being her roommate and all you'd have a little more insight into what's going on inside her head."
"Fat chance of that. I'm not sure I've ever understood what really makes that girl tick."
"Ever think of trying to find out?"
"I ... well..." I took a deep breath. "I just ... I think we're fine. I mean, she took the initiative to move back into the house. We walk to class together, and she's been part of this whole 'Project Ben' thing."
"That's surface stuff. That's hanging out. But where are you and her as a RELATIONSHIP?"
"Relationship? Did Kim tell you she wants a relationship?"
"No, no. I don't mean dating and sex. I mean the way you and her ARE together, what you mean to each other. She's told me she doesn't want to be your girlfriend."
"Yeah, she told me that, too."
Bert's eyebrows went up. "But did she tell you she still has feelings for you?"
"Ah, yeah..." I nodded carefully, not sure how much Bert knew.
"What else?"
"Uh..." I shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. After all, I was pretty sure that the single sex encounter we'd had was not meant to be public knowledge.
"Do you care about her?" Bert asked me suddenly, his eyes sharp.
"Yes."
"Do you know how she feels about you?"
I winced. "Not exactly. You know Kim. She's an enigma, and I've been trying to give her some space. She doesn't think like the rest of us, and sometimes it's really hard to read what's going on in her head."
"Hey, I've got a wild and crazy idea." Bert brightened.
"What?"
Bert's smile dropped, and as he crossed his arms over his chest, he leveled me with a serious look. "Why don't you talk to her?"
I arched an eyebrow.
"You know: you sit down, she sits down, you guys open your mouths and little words come out."
I rolled my eyes at his condescension.
"Oops, I forgot. You and Dawn sucked at that."
"Hey!"
Bert shrugged. "Sorry, but it's true. When everything was going great, you and Dawn were able to cruise along on autopilot and everything was hunky-dory. Talking is easy when everything is great. Everything about a relationship is easy when everything is great. It's how a couple communicates with each other through the rough times, through adversity, that defines a relationship."
My eyes went wide. "When the hell did you get so wise about relationships?"
Bert grinned and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small worn-out paperback and waved it in front of me. "Relationship Psychology. Borrowed it from Gwen since I figured it would help me keep Lynne happy. Gwen and Robin say 'hi' by the way."
I cracked a smile and nodded. "Say 'hi' back."
"Will do." Bert then waved the book forward. "You know, maybe you need this thing more than me."
I just flipped Bert the bird.
He laughed, pulled his thumb drive out of my laptop, and then stood up. He and Sasha had to catch a train.
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