“Who the fuck knocks?” a male voice called out.  “E, did you order a fucking pizza or something?”

I heard some mumbled replies and then laughter, but no one came to the door.  I stood there, unaware that I was biting my lip, and I considered turning around and leaving, but I couldn’t.  I had to see him.  I had to talk to him.

I reached up to knock again just as the door flew open, and an imposing blonde woman with blue eye shadow and a voluptuous figure looked down at me and narrowed her eyes.  She wore faded sweatpants and a button down shirt that didn’t quite fit her figure.  Behind her was tall man wearing jeans and a T-shirt.  He had broad shoulders and a dark, scraggly beard, and I thought he looked vaguely familiar.  He might have been one of the guys on the street corner where I had first met Ethan.

“I don’t know you,” the blonde woman stated.  She looked down at my shoes and then slowly up to my face again.  “You are definitely not from around here.”

“No, I’m not,” I said, feeling flustered by her directness.  “I was just looking for Ethan.”

“I told him you would be ugly on the inside,” the big guy said with a sneer.  He glared at me.  “E always thinks he has a point to prove.”

I remembered the man then.  Ethan had pointed him out on the street corner when we first met.

“Holy shit,” the tall blonde said.  “Is she the bitch who—”

“Andi.” I heard Ethan’s soft voice before I saw him step out from around the door.  “Don’t do that.”

“What?  Call her what she is?”

“Stop it,” he said, not taking his eyes from me.  “Hey, Ashlyn.”

“Hey,” I replied, nervous and self-conscious.  “Can we talk?”

“I guess,” he said.  “I’m not really sure what we need to say though.”

“I need to explain,” I replied.

“I get it,” Ethan said with a shrug.  “I embarrass you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her, Ethan,” the blonde said.  Andi, he had called her.  She had to be the Andrea he mentioned before—the one he said liked to play mom for him.

“I know,” he replied.  “It’s okay, Andi—really.”

The big guy grabbed Ethan’s arm and silently raised an eyebrow at him.  Ethan just shrugged his right shoulder up and down, and the big guy let go of his arm.  Andrea huffed and stepped to one side as Ethan walked past her, quietly shutting the door behind him so we were standing in the musty hallway alone.

“Ethan, I’m sorry,” I blurted out quickly.  I looked up into his bright green eyes and hoped he would say something because I hadn’t really planned much of a speech.  Though I had spent days looking for him just so I could talk to him, I couldn’t come up with the words.  I didn’t know what to say.  I only knew I didn’t want him to disappear from my life like this.  Unfortunately, he just looked at me without responding, forcing me to come up with something.  I took a deep breath, and dove into the realm of complete honesty.

“I didn’t want her to see me with you,” I said softly.  I felt the pressure of tears building behind my eyes.  “I know that’s stupid, and it’s not you at all—it’s her.  No, it’s not her—it’s me.”

“I got it,” Ethan said.  “You don’t want to be seen with me.”

“I want to see you,” I told him.

“What?”  He barked out a laugh.  “As long as it’s behind closed doors?  Seriously?”

“No!”  The tears were flowing now.  “There’s just so much pressure from everyone.  My friends, my father—they all have a lot of expectations, and I wasn’t prepared to try to explain you just yet.”

“Explain me?”  Ethan huffed and grabbed the handle of the door.  “I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, and I don’t know if I want to find out.”

“Please…don’t,” I said, quite willing to beg if I needed to.  “You said before you didn’t want to say the wrong thing and fuck this up.  I didn’t want to either, but I have.  Please, let me try to fix it.  Give me a chance, please, Ethan.”

He halted and dropped his hand from the doorknob but didn’t look back at me.

“I know I shouldn’t care what people think,” I said, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.  “But I always have.  Everyone I know is so focused on what people look like, what they’re wearing, where they bought their shoes.  Who you are with is a big part of that—the right person, the right family.  I’ve never known anyone like you before.  I mean, the first things people see are the piercings and the tattoos.  I’m afraid I just won’t know how to cope with their reactions to you.  I’ve had at least fifteen phone calls from people since Presley saw you, and I haven’t even answered them because I don’t know what to say!”

“Do they bother you?” he asked.  “The tattoos and the piercings?”

“When I first saw you, yes,” I answered.  I wanted to be as truthful as possible.  “Not bother, necessarily, but your appearance is very different from what I’m used to.  I was so flustered when you came up to talk to me, I didn’t know how to react.”

“What about now?  You still don’t like them?”

“Now I like them,” I said.  “They took a little getting used to, and I think I was kind of intimidated by them at first.  But you were so…sweet.  You caught me off guard, and I’m glad you did.”

“Why?”

“Because I really like you, Ethan.  I wanted to get to know you better, and I still do, but I don’t know how to deal with everyone else in my life.  Appearances have always been very important, and I don’t know any other way.”

Ethan finally looked back up to me, his eyes narrowed.

“When I realized you were upset because I hugged you in front of your friend, it really hurt,” he said.  His voice was frighteningly deadpan, considering his words.  “I know I tend to get a little overly emotional about stupid shit, but that wasn’t stupid to me.  I didn’t know what to think.  I thought you liked me and accepted me the way I was.  When I realized you really didn’t…”

“But I do!” I cried.  “It doesn’t matter to me now, and I would never want you to change anything.  I just don’t…I don’t…”

“Want anyone else to know?” He raised his eyebrow and nodded his head.  “Yeah, I got that idea.  I can’t be that way, Ashlyn.  When you left my place Sunday, I came over here and told everyone about you.  I told them how great you were and how much I liked you.  I told them about you reading to me—and that part even made Faith cry.  All I could think about was how much I wanted them to meet you and for you to be included in things we do as a group.  I didn’t realize I was going to be an embarrassment to you or that you wouldn’t even tell anyone about me.  I thought…I thought you felt what I felt.  I thought when we made love…shit, Ashlyn.”

He turned away for a second, his right hand moving up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I did feel that,” I whispered.

“If you had felt what I felt, you would have…fuck, it doesn’t matter.”  Ethan shook his head, ran his hands through his hair, and yanked a cigarette out of his pocket with his right hand, quickly grasped it out of his fingers with his left hand, and then put the cigarette back in his shirt pocket.

“I just need some time, Ethan,” I said.  “I need to…process some of this.  I need to figure out what to tell my friends and…”

“I’m not going to be in a relationship like that,” Ethan said.  His eyes were dark, and his nostrils flared a little as he spoke.  “I don’t want to be explained to the people in your life before I meet them.  If I can’t just…be me with you…shit.  Forget it.  I really don’t have anything else to say.”

He spun to his right, and his right hand grasped the doorknob and started to turn it.  At the same time, his left hand reached out and tightened securely, though not painfully, around my wrist.

“Ethan?”  I looked down at his fingers gripping my wrist as he turned and started to twist the handle.

“No, Ashlyn,” he said sharply, and then his voice went back to calm and cold.  “I’m done here.  I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Ethan continued to open the door, but at the same time, the fingers of his left hand strengthened their grip and pulled on my arm sharply.  I stumbled forward, lost my balance, and bumped into him, almost falling over.  Ethan turned his head back, his eyes scowling and his brows drawn in anger or confusion; I wasn’t sure which.  His fingers didn’t release their grip.

Suddenly, the door opened up all the way, and a tiny woman, barely five feet tall and the complete opposite of Andrea in appearance, peeked out from the edge of the door, eyeing first Ethan and then me.  I heard her exhale sharply through her nose before her gaze left mine and went back to Ethan’s.

“Ethan—” she said.

“Faith, I want her gone,” Ethan said, his voice still calm and emotionless.

Faith looked at his face, and then I watched her eyes travel down his arm and to my wrist.  She glanced up at me, but I couldn’t understand her expression.

“Ethan,” the little brunette said quietly.  “I’m not so sure you want that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Look at your hand, Ethan.”

Ethan glanced down at the fingers of his left hand and grimaced.

“What’s going on?” I asked.  The feeling in the pit of my stomach was growing.  Ethan was looking at his left hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

“Maybe you should talk some more.”  Faith suggested.

“I don’t want to,” Ethan said, his voice was still oddly calm.

“Part of you does,” Faith said as she nodded towards his left hand.  He opened his fingers and slid them down my wrist, across my palm, and entwined them with my fingers.  I watched Ethan look at his hand as if he weren’t sure whose it was, shake his head, and glance back at me.  He slowly winked his right eye, leaving it closed while he looked at me with his left.  His thumb started stroking the outside of my hand.

“What’s going on?” I asked timidly.  I was about as confused as I could get and didn’t really know what I should do or say, so I just stood there like a moron.  I watched Ethan’s throat bob as he swallowed hard.  He seemed as though he was going to say something, but he shook his head again instead, closing both eyes and looking away from me.

“He’s conflicted,” Faith said.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“Part of me wants you to leave,” Ethan said, his tone still flat and emotionless.  “I know, logically, that this isn’t going to work.  Logical thought is in the left side of your brain, the same place as language, which is why I’m telling you to leave.”

“But you feel for her, Ethan.”  Faith took his right hand off the doorknob and held it.  “Otherwise, your right brain wouldn’t be showing you that you want to hold on to her.  You need to talk to her, Ethan.  That’s what you are telling yourself.”

My stomach knotted up.  Did I understand this correctly?  Half of Ethan wanted me to go, but the other half wanted me to stay?  He seemed so torn, and it ate me up inside.  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and do whatever I could to help him resolve the conflict that lay inside, but I didn’t know if I should.  I was the reason for his conflict.  It was my fault he was so confused.  I didn’t understand what Faith was trying to say though.  Part of him wanted me to leave—that was obvious—but some other side apparently didn’t want me to go.  I didn’t know what to make of it.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said.  “I don’t understand…”

“Faith, I don’t think I can do this.”  Ethan looked over to her, and I saw tears in his eyes.  “I want to say…but I don’t…I don’t know how to say it…”

“I know, Ethan.  It’s okay.”  Faith ran her fingers up his arm and back down again.  It was a gentle, sisterly touch, which didn’t evoke any of the jealousy I had felt when Sheila had touched him on our first date.  Faith turned to look at me.  “Ashlyn, you understand that Ethan’s brain doesn’t work the same as everyone else’s, right?”

“He told me,” I said with a nod.  “The right and left sides don’t talk to each other.”

“Exactly,” Faith said.  “Sometimes, the logical parts of our brains don’t agree with the emotional parts.  For you and me, we work it out on the inside and come to a conclusion that involves both logic and emotion.  Ethan can’t do that on the inside.  The only way his emotional side can communicate with his logical side is through the left side of his body.  His left hand is holding on to you because he has an emotional attachment to you, but the logical part doesn’t agree.  Language is in the left side of the brain—so whatever his logical side thinks is what he says.”

“Faith, you don’t have to explain all of this to her,” Ethan said.  “I’m too fucked up for this.  It was the same last time.  I just can’t be with anyone, obviously.  I’m damaged and embarrassing.”