A Tale Not Yet Titled Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Though the setting and some businesses are based on actual places, names, characters, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. I promise ; )

Being me can only mean
Feeling scared to breathe
If you leave me then I’ll be afraid of everything
That makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down
Lets me face this, let me sleep, and when I wake up
Let me be

--Afraid by The Neighbourhood

(Saturday, June 22, 2012 11:30pm    The Present….)

I had protested the idea of going out but Casey and Trent insisted, in that order. All I wanted to do was sit at home in my room, with my music blaring, the door sealed tight, and my laptop buzzing on my lap. I had plenty of work that needed to be completed. With Donna on maternity leave and Marna at a publisher’s convention in New York City, there was more than enough overflow I could take care of in a quiet evening home, with a glass of red wine, and The Neighbourhood serenading my otherwise stress filled mind to ease. Instead I stood partially clothed in front of my full body mirror swinging and tapping against the door of my room as Trent stomped past it in the hallway.

“Are you kidding me? I’m not taking fashion advice from you! You’re not going to help me get laid tonight! And you don’t have to wear my clothes. So your opinion doesn’t matter!” Casey had ever so subtly, in her typical Casey way, suggested that Trent’s outfit was tacky and, in some roundabout way, offensive to women and the feminist movement. “You’re fucking insane!”

“All I’m saying is by wearing that tight ass thermal you’re inadvertently calling every woman you encounter a slutty whore.” Her point was ridiculous. “I mean look at those graphics, swirly, curvy cursive taunting that you’re ‘addictive’ surrounded by roses and skulls? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” Her inflection implied personal insult. “Are you going to top off your outfit with a beaning that says ‘Affliction’ and approach every girl saying ‘Yo ma’ what’s good?’”  I rolled my eyes as I turned up my music to drown them out, but not before I heard Trent reply.

“You’re a psychopath. I hope your uterus falls out!” My mirror continued to tap as Trent stormed down the stairs and, I can only assume, into the basement far away from Casey’s judgmental absurdity.

I finally decided on a simple outfit: blue super skinny jeans with black toms, a black oversized graphic tee that hung strategically off of my tattooed shoulder. My hair was a mess of ebony curls and I wasn’t in the mood to tackle them, so I grabbed my large knit beany and pulled it down over my head. I positioned it far enough from my forehead that some of my curls fell naturally in front of my eyes. My eye makeup had survived the morning and afternoon, and we were only going to the P.O.P.E. on East Passyunk so lipstick was not necessary. I rolled some Eos over my full lips, slipped my favorite silver vintage ring on my right middle finger, threw my purse over my head, and pushed open my door.

Casey was on the other side leaning up against the far wall chatting on her phone. She gave me a look that screamed it’s about time and proceeded down the steps. Before I followed her I took a detour into her room and grabbed my favorite of her necklaces off her jewelry stand. I put it on. The shimmering clear stones dangled near my breast and topped off my “I’m fashionably trying to not be fashionable” look. She nodded with approval once we reached the bottom of the stairs, her phone still pressed to her ear. Trent was already in the car waiting for us. He was frighteningly good at predicting when we were ready for things and just dealing with us in general. Well at least dealing with me. Moments later we were speeding off toward Passyunk and a night I was already wishing was over.

***

The P.O.P.E. was packed, shoulder to shoulder with spree twenty-somethings waiting impatiently for their craft beers and vegan burgers. I pushed pass two rather beefy hipsters, clad in plaid and sporting hefty beards. Gone were the days when beards were mutually exclusive to burly mountain men and metal heads.  I let out a disappointed sigh.

Casey gripped my hand as she pulled me toward the back of the bar. I politely excused us to every person she nearly knocked on their heels. Trent and his buddy Doug were not far behind me scanning the room from left to right for the one thing they treasured more than American muscle cars and, well, craft beer – vagina. I let out a relieved breath when Casey finally found a vacant table nestled in the corner of the main eating area, close enough to the bar but far enough away that we didn’t have to overhear failed pick-up lines and polite rejections.

“Yeesh! I thought we were never going to find a table,” Trent voiced as he slipped in the chair next to me. Casey had nonchalantly parked her derriere in the seat next to Doug, skillfully nudging her chair closer to him as she scooted it closer to the table. I gave her a slanted smile and an accusatory glance as she lifted her eyes from the table top to meet mine.

What the hell are you doing?  I said to her with my eyes.

Shut up! She replied. Enough said.

“This is a sweet little spot. Can’t believe I never knew it was here!” Doug was one of Trent’s college buddies. They had numerous classes together at Temple University but didn’t really start hanging out until they were forced into a study group, a feeble attempt to pass Chemistry II their second semester of freshman year. Ever since then, they were inseparable. I’d seen Doug a couple times at the Horse on campus before Trent introduced us, Doug’s meager attempt to ask me out. Didn’t happen. Not long after that all three of us started hanging out together and we all got pretty close.

“That’s because you live in the North-East. Be brave brother, come down South every once in a while and you can experience some real culture. Next time we’ll take you to Lucky13!! Food to die for!!”

“Oh yea? How’s the food in this place Lina?” Doug nodded toward me. He looked me straight in the eyes, his blue crystal gaze adoringly searching my face. His bright white smile spread gingerly across his fuzz covered dimples. I swear the shine from his teeth reflected off his earrings, in both ears. It’s not that he was a bad looking guy, or stupid, or anything like that, but he just wasn’t what I was looking for back in those days. And he certainly is not what I need right now.

“It’s pretty good!” I answered with a smile. “Trent and I have this debate all the time: In a bar food standoff, who would prevail victorious, Lucky13 or the P.O.P.E?” I said in my best movie-trailer-voiceover voice. I avoided his eyes by staring at his thick, dirty blonde hair line peeking out from under his black cotton beany hanging dopey from the back of his head. “I lean a little more toward this here gem myself.” I gestured to the walls around us so he got my drift. I loved this bar, almost as much as I loved the Good Dog. It would be a lot better though, if it weren’t for all of the heart wrenching memories it possessed.

Immediately the conversations around me became muted. My mind drifted in and out of images and visions of Wes, Trent, Casey, and I sitting plastered to the bar, downing shots and spewing insults at the television showing cheesing and obnoxious reality TV shows. I closed my eyes as my heart began to pound in my chest and my breathing became shallow. I could feel perspiration forming on my brow and I needed to get away from this table. Like NOW!

“Will you guys excuse me for a moment? I need to use the ladies room.” I opened my eyes to see Doug looking at me worriedly. His eyes asked a very personal question I was not prepared to answer, so I turned my gaze to the amber wood floors and made my way to the basement steps.

“You want me to come with you babe?” Casey called after me. I lifted my hand and waved it from side to side, indicating that I would be okay alone. I could almost see her face in front of mine as I walked away from her. She was concerned too. They all were.

***

The P.O.P.E’s bathroom was exactly what you expected a trendy dive bar bathroom to look like. It was papered with stickers of bands, businesses, and graffitied with sharpie artwork. Another common attribute it possessed was its unrealistic size; it was tiny. Literally the size of a small shoe closet, it had one stall, one sink nudged right next to the outer wall of the stall, and a 1ft by 1ft mirror right above the sink. The hand drying machine was placed inches from the sinks edge and because of this, there was barely any room to turn around and face the door out, let alone lean against the wall and take a few quick breaths in private. Why I thought that would be a suitable escape from the claustrophobia I was developing at our table I have no idea. Once I realized my error I immediately turned around, back up the steps to the first floor. I pressed through the crowd to the bars street exit.

I made it to the moist, mildly warm air of the city without being detected by Trent, Doug, and Casey. The atmosphere still smelled of a summer storm but the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. I turned the corner away from the door way of the bar and leaned against its wall. I bent over with my head slightly above my knees and took deep breaths. Why did I allow memories of Wes to work me up so thoroughly? It had been a few months since the break up and even longer since we had been to this bar together; there was no reason why sitting at a table with friends should upset me so harshly.

I pressed my back against the stone wall and began to inhale air from the sky. My mouth slightly open and my head leaned back I silently chanted to myself, you’re okay! You’re okay!  I imagined being somewhere else, anywhere else. I created a deserted island, palm trees, a clear blue ocean and its subsequent breeze; A grass hut feet from the shore line and an endless supply of tequila and rum. I pictured myself reclining in a beach chair, the sun baking the skin of my abs and legs, an umbrella shading my face. My eyes beneath aviators I dreamt of peace within my dream. No man, no cry! The dream Lina chanted aloud. No man, no cry! My heart, both dream and reality, started to slow and the empty feeling began to pass. I continued to breath deep and imagine this tropical paradise far, far away from everything that plagued me.

“Lina?” The voice violently pulled me from my oasis and back to the damp streets of Philadelphia. The storm had passed but I was soon to find out that I was only in the eye.

I slowly lowered my chin parallel to the side walk and turned my head toward the approaching figure of a man, broad, tall, and dark haired, except for his light colored eyes. His hair had grown out since the last time I saw him. It curled under his earlobes resembling the way it looked in a baby picture I saw of him once at his mother’s.

“I thought that was you. How are you?” His smile was electric. It spread like wildfire across his face. His eyes sparked to attention as they laid gently into mine. There was something different about them though, they looked a little weary. I’m sure I was mistaken. He was never weary not even on his busiest of days. It was probably just the tears forming in mine that obstructed my vision.

My breathing began to shallow again. The edges of his smile slowly started to turn downward as my response grew further and further away. Suddenly I snapped out of whatever trance I was in, put on a smile and answered him.

“Wes! Hey! Wow! I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you?” I tried intently to cover the shaking in my voice. I didn’t want him to know that at any moment my legs were going to turn to mush and I was going to collapse to the pavement.

“I’m great!” he said not very convincingly I noticed. “You?”

The shaking in my chest was harder to mask. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to throw my arms around his broad shoulders and press my lips against his thick lips. I wanted his hands tangled in my hair. I wanted his breath against my neck. I needed him inside me sooner rather than later. I needed to feel his chest heaving heavy against mine in exasperation. My mind raced with all these desires when I realized I hadn’t answered him again.

“Fine,” I managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.” He chuckled softly to himself. He always loved when I squeaked. He said it made him feel like a lion dating a mouse, which was the sweetest of contradictions.

The friends who had been following him had made their way inside. He looked after them approvingly. I took that moment to collect myself as I stepped toward him in a brief and unprecedented moment of courage.

“Wes I want you back!” I blurted out. He turned to me with an awe struck look on his face. In his expression I could see his longing. I could see he wanted to comply. I could tell from the way his bottom lip hung open and then moments later snapped against the top that he was conflicted and confused.

“Adelina, don’t do this to me.” His eyes pleaded with mine. I pressed closer to him and he did what I feared most, he stepped back.

“C’mon, it will be better I promise. I’ll be better I swear.” I pleaded with him. I didn’t care who could hear. I wanted him back so badly I craved it. “Please.”

His face was apologetic. He knew he could end my torture by simply taking me in his arms and whispering in my ear the three words I wanted, yes of course. But he wouldn’t do it. When he left he told me this had to be. That he was doing this for us and I would be better off when it was all said and done. I didn’t believe him then and I don’t believe this memory of it now. I needed him like air. This was a cruel punishment.

“Adelina, you know we can’t be together. We’re just not right. I’m not right. I need this time to figure out what to do with myself. I’m all over the place and confused. You deserve so much more than that. You’re a beautiful and intelligent woman and you’re going to find someone who treats you like a goddess. Trust me. You don’t want me back.” He didn’t wait for my reply. Even if I could say anything it would have caught in my throat and choked me to death.

He pressed a sweet, soft kiss to my forehead and disappeared into the bar. I stood, frozen on the sidewalk outside the P.O.P.E. lost and confused as to what to do next. I was in physical pain fighting off the tears threatening to run down my face. My chest was at my feet and my vision was blurry. I inadvertently put my arm in the air as a taxi splashed down the street.

“320 Fawn St. please. Washington square.”

I didn’t think the whole way to the house. All I could manage was to pull my phone from my purse and text Trent, letting him know that I had caught a cab back to the house and not to bother me when they came home. I tried to go back to my tropic getaway in my head, but every time I closed my eyes all I saw were Wes and his apologetic eyes. I couldn’t hear the ocean. All I could manage was the faint sound of his voice telling me it was better this way. I tried to breath deep but my chest wouldn’t allow it.

Finally in the house, and finally in my room, I dropped my purse to the ground, where it landed was anybody’s guess. I pulled my shirt over my head and let my jeans drop to my feet. I was in total darkness aside from the moon beaming through my window. I slipped my shoes off and left them underneath my jeans and shirt on the floor. I unlatched my bra and let that fall as well.

I caught my reflection in the mirror over my dresser as I walked robotically to my bed. I meant to hide there until Wes changed his mind or the Apocalypse ensued. I held my breath for neither. My heart did skip a beat though, when I saw how unnaturally pale I looked. My golden skin was faded and my green eyes looked sickly. The only things that indicated I was alive were my breast, perky and round, nipples erect, and pointed toward my reflection, their typical response to Wes being in close proximity. My eyes traveled down my lean abs and toward my panties, they weren’t soaked but if that conversation was any longer, regardless of the topic, that would have been next; A tell-tale response to his voice. I pulled them off as well revealing the short trimmed fuzz covering my mound of sexual desire throbbing painfully for his touch.

I made my way to my bed. I could no longer stand the look of me and I just wanted to be done with this evening. I covered myself up with my blanket and tried again to go back to that tropical escape I created earlier. I finally fell asleep an hour or so later, still ignoring the buzzing of my cell phone coming persistently from my purse strewn carelessly on the floor. It had been ringing out to me since I walked over the threshold of our home. Don’t bother me!  I said in a low and exhausted voice over and over until I was no longer conscious.