I clung to Lizzie’s side as we attempted to make our way through the flock of people dancing between the entrance of King Street Lounge and the corner booth Ella had reserved for us. The music pounded through the speakers so loudly that it took over my heartbeat. Ella stood from her seat, raising a glass filled with a rainbow of pink, purple, and orange slush with a tiny umbrella hanging from the rim.
“You made it!” she called out to us as we neared the table. “I almost thought you’d bailed.” We climbed in on each side of her, my hips blocked by the frilly black tulle skirt she wore.
“What are you drinking?” Lizzie inquired, cynically eyeing the umbrella floating in Ella’s glass.
“It’s called a tropical honeymoon or something. Look,” she pulled out the umbrella, “it comes with an umbrella. It’s so dainty. Just like me!”
“How many of those have you had?” I laughed at her, reaching for the drink list. It was covered in a sticky film that blurred the text. Lizzie waved for a server, silver and rose gold bangles dangling from her wrist.
“Not enough. Maybe like three…or this is my second. I’m not sure.” Ella blushed, taking another sip, requesting a refill when the server arrived. Lizzie and I ordered some variant of Ella’s rainbow drink, and we began rehashing our week. I felt better than earlier in the month as my emptiness filled, but maybe that was my pink drink. Regardless, sharing those ridiculous drinks after a long day was such a happy moment with Ella and Lizzie.
“Oh no,” Ella grumbled. “I told Jesse this was our girls’ night.”
Lizzie glanced in Ella’s direction, chuckling at her frustration. Jesse stood at the bar, wildly animated in conversation with someone. “He doesn’t even know you’re over here,” Lizzie hollered above the music. “We’re used to him. Remember?”
“But it’s girls’ night.” Ella pouted. I sipped, ignoring them.
“We can still look at hot guys, flirt mercilessly, and not care,” Lizzie assured her, as if speaking to a child. “I promise.”
“Well…” Ella thought for a moment and reached for her recently refilled beverage.
“Whatever, Smella,” I teased as I climbed from the booth. “Let’s dance.”
I wiggled to the music, waiting for Ella and Lizzie to escape the safety of our booth. Lizzie took my hand, and we joined the crowd, dancing to the rhythm of downtown’s best mix of electronic and house music.
Ella’s tulle scratched my arm as she sprang by my side once she joined us. Lizzie spun in circles, the glass of some lemon-blueberry-vodka-something held prisoner in her hand. It was always difficult to dance in heels, so my feet throbbed by the second song. We bounced in our tripod, careless and happy.
I spun around and around, my brain already struggling to focus with the sensory overload of the music, lights, volume, and the toxicity of my pink strawberry-rum-raspberry-something to which my left hand clutched. As I spun back to face Lizzie and Ella, I noticed Ella was dancing in her own bubble, spinning like a blissful child. Lizzie was dancing with a blond guy, still holding her drink and taking sporadic sips. I’m thirsty too. I reminded myself of the bubbly pink thing in my glass and began pulling my hand toward my face when the cup was jerked from my grasp.
“Delicious,” Sean murmured as he sipped from the rim of my glass, lifting his eyebrows and grinning hopelessly. Is this real?
“Where did you come from?” I snapped. “What are you doing here?” The words fell out in accusation, but I was more surprised than anything. I stopped dancing and stared at him, tanned and gorgeous. His beard disappeared into delectable stubble. I had to stop myself from wanting to touch it, to touch him. His wavy hair was cropped, forcing my focus to his glowing emerald eyes which stared at me.
“Meeting Jesse. What are you doing here?” This creep owes me an explanation. Or does he?
“Come here.” I pulled on his wrist and walked with Sean through the gaping wall of windows that was open for the evening, blasted with heat lamps and fans. Sorry, planet. In the dim glow of the streetlights, I observed Sean was wearing all black; dress pants and shirt, of course teasingly unbuttoned at the top with his cuffs rolled over his muscular forearms. I continued sipping from my glass, eyeing him suspiciously. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to feel, or if he was actually standing there.
“I thought you were still in Miami,” I pressed, taking a sip from my drink.
“I thought you’d be spending a Saturday night with your boyfriend.” His top lip rolled from between his teeth, jaw clenched, and eyes wild.
“Girls’ night,” I reminded him, smiling coyly. “When did you get back?”
“Tuesday.”
“You waited almost a week to tell me.” I swung at his arm playfully. “I’m hurt. I’m going back inside, and you owe me a drink now that you’ve tampered with this one.”
I turned to walk back into the bar, and I felt his fingers quickly wrap around my wrist and lift the glass from my hand. “I think you’ve had enough, Ave.”
My body warmed with his hand along the middle of my back as Sean guided me back to the booth. I was only on my second drink and resentful he thought it was his place to tell me I had enough. I had enough of his stupid, handsome face, that was for sure. I had enough of him the last time I saw him, when he left me alone. Shudder. I didn’t have enough then. Seeing him next to me, feeling his skin on my back, his eyes burning into mine, reminded me of how much not enough I had of Sean.
Ella and Lizzie were still dancing in the middle of the floor, leaving our booth empty. I noticed Jesse turn from the bar and gaze in our direction, his mouth spreading into a playful smile. It was one twisted reunion, and I couldn’t stop myself from attending.
“Sit down with me,” Sean pressed as we approached the booth. “Please?”
“What’s wrong with you?” I grumbled, climbing back in. I adjusted my skirt when I reached my final spot across from Sean. I observed him as he placed a finger into the collar of his black shirt and briefly lifted it away from his chest. Is he uncomfortable? I sure am. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and exhaled deeply. I couldn’t hear the sound, but any adept observer in the human condition could feel the strain in his sigh.
In his silence, I focused on the sounds around us, realizing how quickly the pink bubbles tormented my bloodstream.
“I get dizzy when I close my eyes.” I hummed, a giggle escaping my mouth, and rested my head against the wall of our booth, rolling it sideways to glance at Sean.
“Then don’t.” Sean’s roguish tone sang so melodically I felt as though I were dreaming. I wanted to fight the dizziness and close my eyes. I wanted to see Sean in the memory my mind held of him, but it was fighting me right now. He was fragile, so delicate to me, despite my opinion of his character substantially altering after I last saw him. He spoke from behind his fingers as they rested against his mouth. My smile faded while he continued to gawk at me.
“What?”
“Avery, do you have any idea how senseless you can be?” Ouch. Even on my second pink drink, I was aware of the nasty tinge lining his question.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” His gaze momentarily avoided mine. “I do. I have been the epitome of careless and senseless. I’m—” I felt the words in my heart like a dagger, repeatedly stabbing me. Sean’s hands lowered back to the table and began to reach toward the hand I had possessively wrapped around my glass when his words were cut off.
“Hey!” Kelly pecked Sean’s cheek. Oh, right. The undergraduates flocking to Sean like ants to sugar. Sean’s eyes burned into me as Kelly continued her greeting, his gaze unflinching. I watched him lift a hand to her ear and whisper, Kelly’s eyes flicker back and forth, before Kelly sat down next to me. It was evident in his brooding stare, the tension in his tightly closed jaw, that our conversation wasn’t done. Lord knows I have plenty to say to him. What did he tell Kelly?
“Excuse me,” I told her, already shifting my weight as I attempted to climb from the booth. She didn’t pick up on my social cue, instead continuing to pout at Sean. I tried the other side. Maybe he will let me out. Where the heck are Lizzie and Ella?
Sean noticed I’d crept closer to him, sliding along the seat in my attempt to exit my social prison. “Are you okay?” he asked as I was nearly in his lap.
“I’m trying to get out. I need to use the bathroom,” I lied. I needed to get the heck out of there!
Sean stood and waited for me to climb out. The sweet smell of freedom! As I headed toward the bathroom, I remembered I didn’t need it; I just needed to leave Kelly and Sean. I saw Lizzie dancing with the same guy as before. Her hands flailed in delight as she spun around in circles with her partner. I fought to get through the mob of twenty-somethings hovering around the bar but eventually broke free onto the cold, damp sidewalk. I rested against the brick exterior to catch my breath and rattled nerves.
“Avery,” Sean called to me, startling me with his hand grabbing my shoulder.
“Jesus!” I shouted, feeling my heart fly into my throat. My immediate reaction was laughter, but I didn’t find actual humor in any of it.
He slowly dropped his hand, probably waiting to see if I’d run, and licked his lips in thought. I stared at his mouth when he began to speak. “I thought you left.”
“So what if I had?” His expression tightened, and I knew my challenge took him by surprise. He stepped closer to me, the fabric of our shirts grazing and our breaths meeting. Sean cautiously lifted his palms to cup my face, softly tightening his hold as I pressed into it.
“You can’t pretend anymore, Ave.” About us? About him?
“Neither should you.” I tried to avoid his eyes, looking anywhere I could. I studied the graffiti on the parking garage across the street, the spider webs dangling from the streetlamp a few feet away from us, but my periphery was tortured with Sean.
His body moved closer to mine, my mouth inches from the loose fabric of his shirt exposing his collarbone. “You’re heartless, Sean.”
“I know. I’m a disgusting human being.”
“Disgusting,” I repeated. “You really shouldn’t be drinking.” A low chuckle escaped his throat before Sean’s palms left my face to brace his cage around me against the wall, locking me in his prison of longing.
“It’s about damn time,” Lizzie hollered from the sidewalk, her voice filled with inebriated laughter.
“Shit,” Sean groaned, his head hanging in front of my face. My cage disappeared, his hands slinking back into the pockets of his black pants as Lizzie meandered toward us. Her dance partner wasn’t far behind, stumbling from the bar in search of her.
“You have an admirer,” Sean attempted to distract her, nodding toward the newcomer.
Lizzie looked in his direction and then at us. “That’s Josh.” She sighed, looking between us. “He is a friend of…oh…Declan’s…well, this is weird.”
“Lizzie!” Josh called to her, a warm smile spread along his face as he approached. Lizzie slowly pointed a finger at me and then stabbed it into Sean’s chest right at the opening of his shirt.
“We,” she poked him, “have a lot to talk about.” Her words were full of promise, and I felt sick thinking about the topic of our future conversation. She blew us a sloppy kiss before walking along the sidewalk toward the Capitol.
With my head hanging in embarrassment and guilt, my bouncy feelings of happiness quickly erased, I peered up at Sean. His narrowed eyes squinted in the direction of Lizzie and Josh while they walked away. Through his groomed stubble, I could clearly see the tightening of his jaw.
“I’m going to take Kelly home,” he informed me, his tone low and serious, “and then I’m coming over.”
“What? No.”
His eyes were back on mine. “Twenty minutes.”
Sean clutched my hand, scanning my face with wide eyes, and left me standing against the wall where I originally hoped to get a clear head. Now all I wanted was to crawl under the covers and avoid contact with everyone I knew. I squeezed through the crowd again to find Ella. Fortunately for Miss Dancy Pants, Jesse found her, and they were nuzzling each other’s faces in our booth. So much for girls’ night.
Kelly was no longer sitting at the booth, so I assumed Sean was on step one of his promise. Crap. I didn’t want to deal with this. I’d forced myself to stop thinking about how used I felt, about how much I wanted, missed, and despised him all at the same time. I didn’t know if it was Sean making me feel that way or my inability to move the heck forward. Either way, he was expecting me to answer my door in fifteen minutes. I decided to leave Jesse and Ella in their moment of intimacy and text her later.
I started the five-minute walk back to my apartment, planning how I would spend the subsequent ten minutes while I waited for Sean to arrive. Sean, alone in my house, with me. After that night, his health, his silence…
I tore off my dress, yanked out my earrings, and covered myself in my oversized pajama pants and Jesse’s shirt. I was not going to allow Sean to see me at my best when I had no escape. And besides, why should he have that opportunity? I started boiling water for my French press to sober up when I heard the doorbell. I froze, the anticipation of him coming over finally colliding with reality, and swallowed the lump in my throat, debating whether or not to buzz him in.
I pressed my finger to the call button. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” Of course it is. My phone started to vibrate from the turquoise shelf. Declan. It was half past ten, early enough for visitors and text messages, but too late for my brain to cope with Sean’s return. Hence, my French press. Carrying my phone into the kitchen, I read Declan’s message.
Declan: I’d like to see you soon. Are you free this weekend?
I didn’t know. Was Sean planning on leaving me again? Would I need to sit in my chair, reflecting on life and refusing to go outside? Stop this nonsense already. I remembered Sean was waiting downstairs to be let in, probably fuming mad that I hadn’t buzzed him in yet. He can wait. I replied to Declan’s message.
Me: I don’t know yet. I’ll call you.
And then there was a knock at my door. I turned off the burner, letting the kettle calm its whistling while cautiously opening the door.
“Your neighbor let me in,” Sean whispered in the doorway, waiting for my permission for him to enter further into my small palace. I irreverently waved toward the inside of my apartment and returned to the kitchen for my coffee. I need to meet this neighbor and punch them in the face.
“Sorry I left you waiting. My kettle was going off,” I called from the kitchen, “but you’re familiar with that.”
“With what?” He was leaning against the small table just outside of my kitchen doorway, crossing his arms defensively. I carried two cups in my right hand and the French press and a small carton of cream in my left as I stepped out of the kitchen.
“Leaving people waiting.” I bit my tongue.
“Avery.” There was something sensual about his voice, the tone blurred between a warning scold and desperate plea.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure. Thank you.” He took the cups from my hand and placed them on the table, pouring them to the brim once I had set down the French press. I laughed to myself, entertaining the hope that Sean might burn his tongue. I mixed far too much cream into my coffee, watching him settle into the chair across from me. He placed his fingers under the collar of his shirt, rubbing his neck before sipping his coffee.
“Why are you here, Sean?” Not just Madison, not the bar, but at my table.
“We need to talk about us.” There is an us? Could’ve fooled me. My eyes tightened, hopeful that he’d disappear when they opened. Crap.
“To start,” I disputed, “there stopped being an us in any form weeks ago. You remember leaving for Miami in the middle of the night, don’t you? When you had one of your closest friends in your bed, assuming you were next to her? After you two slept together. And now you have the audacity to reprimand me for being senseless?” This is good coffee. I’ll have to get more in the morning. I’m almost out. Sean’s expression fell, his eyes tight with anxiety. After my words, in the dim light of my home, Sean looked helpless and weak, nothing like the billboard. Yet, beautiful.
“You told me you missed me.” His voice was barely audible.
I closed my eyes tightly, releasing the hurt and being honest. “I did. I still do…”
“You have no idea how guilty I feel,” he murmured. I sipped my coffee, relaxing into the chair and lifting my feet up to the seat. I thought I’d let him stew for a moment, eyeing him without reply.
“I had to go because what happened was a mistake and I didn’t know what you would say to me or want from me in the morning. I was so confused about myself and this disease, confused about you…I had to go.”
“You can go now,” I urged him, calmly placing my cup on the table. Sean’s hands wrapped around my free left hand, lacing his fingers with mine. It was hard to resist the penetrating stare oozing from his green eyes. They glowed a darker hue, looking almost brown or black in the dim light.
“I’m not leaving,” he affirmed, “not this time.”
“Go to your girlfriend’s house. Talk to her. I don’t want to hear this.”
“What about your relationship, Avery?” Sean snapped. I pulled my hand free from his hold and anxiously tapped my fingernails along the edge of my floral coffee cup.
“Declan and I aren’t in a relationship, Sean. We’ve been on dates. That’s usually the social norm for getting to know someone intimately.”
“Jesus Christ, Avery! Would you just listen to me and stop this insolence? I am trying to be serious here, trying to tell you how I feel and just…apologize.”
“You’re being arrogant and assumptive, Sean. You’re assuming I’m okay with you being here, that I want to hear what you have to say.”
He looked dazed, as though he hadn’t planned on my assertion. “But you were fine at the bar earlier…”
“I was shocked to see you again. I hadn’t prepared myself for that.”
“I’m sorry, Avery. Listen to me.” His plea fell on deaf ears as I continued to sip my coffee, eyeing my bed behind him and wondering how long it would be before I could curl into it.
“Apology never accepted, but thanks for telling me the truth.”
“Never?” Sean looked at me, his eyes gleaming with a sense of charm or humor in the way they were irresistible to his undergraduate groupies.
“Sean,” I shook my head, erasing the thought of his persuasive eyes, “you told me you were sick, you kissed me, you decide to leave after sleeping with me, and you’re gone. Just like that. You left. It was safe to assume you died. I almost started to grieve your loss because I didn’t think I’d see you again. I wondered if I even wanted to, for that matter, after how it all made me feel.”
I noticed his lips part with a sharp intake of air. A small piece of me felt horrible for being so blunt when he was sick, but I waited a month to defend myself and he wasn’t getting off the hook.
“I’m abysmal,” he uttered. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You’re right, Ave.”
I chewed on my lip, fighting the tears brewing in my eyes. Sean stood from the table, carrying his chair to my side. I stared at my knees while he sat, resting his elbows on his thighs and reaching for my free hand. As he leaned forward, I couldn’t help but stare at the space between his sagging shirt and his chest. His skin was tan, but the muscles I remembered clawing and holding had thinned. He’s sick.
“I was—am—terrified, Avery.” Sean’s words were laced with a plea, a longing, or an attempt at honesty and persuasion. “I’m twenty-six years old. I was given a death sentence unless I have surgery or chemotherapy. I could die. I was terrified. But you, Avery, you brought it all into context and brought it home for me. You were the first person I told because you’re the only one I trust. I knew that telling you would make it more real, but you wouldn’t pity me. You are always so courageous, and I needed that from you. I craved it. That’s why I kissed you…because I thought I would be cured by you alone.”
I tightened my jaw, trying to focus on him and not my nostrils, which flared to defend against my impending tears.
“And the next time?” I waited for him to continue. He was a blur behind my tears, but I recognized his lips twitch into a smile that quickly faded as his face washed with concern.
“That,” he paused to reach for my cheek, cupping my face in his palm, “was because I love you.”
“But you left…”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to fall in love with your best friend? How intimidating that can be?” I wrote the damn book on this, Sean. I gazed into his eyes, the green washed into darkness and white turning red. I lifted my hands to the forearm extending to my face as he held me. His skin was warm, and I could feel the way he smelled through my touch.
“You need to talk to a professional about your issues with fear,” I directed. His eyes squinted for a moment, a short glimpse only I could recognize.
“I’ve always known, Avery, but it hit me that night,” he continued, his voice softer. “I realized how much you mean to me and what I’d done to you and thought of how confused you’d be. Did I hurt you? Probably. I felt like a creep. There in my bed was the most stunning, lovable, and remarkable woman and I had just…ruined her.”
“I’m not ruined, Sean.” My protest went ignored.
“I know I left you damaged, Ave. I ruined our friendship. I just…”
I dropped my hands from his arm, shaking my head and inhaling a breath to steady myself. “It’s not my job to forgive your sins, Sean. This is just one more act of depravity you’ll need to discuss with a higher power. Not me. You what…you just what?”
“I needed you. I need you.” Sean’s fingers tore across his cropped hair, clinging to his scalp as he slowly and tiresomely ran is his hands through it. Trying to read Sean, to listen to him, to cope was exhausting. I pulled my feet onto my chair once more, tightening my grasp.
“I thought of you the whole time I was gone,” he persisted. “Do you have any idea how much you mean to me, Avery? How much you’ve always meant to me? What torture it is to see you with or hear about Declan?”
“What about Kelly?” I quipped, shooting him a glare. “You need to be the better guy.” I closed my eyes as I forced out the words. “You can’t hurt two people, Sean. You can’t be that guy.”
We sat in silence, coffee cooling between our heated hearts, stubbornly brooding at each other. And for what? I finished the last of my cold coffee and exhaled a breath so deep that I imagined my ribs touching. We were getting nowhere. I hurt, I ached, but I also needed to be the better guy.
I cleared my throat, wiping the hem of my shirt under my sodden eyes, and moved us forward. “What’s your treatment plan, Sean? What are your options?”
Sean’s head lifted, his eyes foggy while looking inquisitively at me. He swallowed, adjusting his posture at the table, and began discussing what he could of his cancer and his options. I listened with a desperate attention, greedily hanging on to every syllable.
He spoke of the tumors located in his lung and the fluid found around his heart. He discussed it so matter-of-factly that it was hard to imagine the illness was inside of him, breeding and expanding as we sat there. It was an evil interloper, bringing us together in a fervor while threatening to separate us just as hastily.
Radiation, chemotherapy, surgery, and immunotherapy…my mind went numb. What is he waiting for? Has he already started these treatments? I started feeling a peculiar combination of fury and despondency toward Sean. He was wasting his time, his life.
I rinsed our cups and left them in the sink. Returning to the table, I considered Sean. His eyes were drained of color and his caramelized skin faded, as though he was actually withering away right then and there. I studied his form. Sean really was sick. My stomach twisted, and I had to battle my reflexive urge to cry, throw up, or hold him—I couldn’t decide.
“You can stay if you need to,” I offered, walking to my chair by the window and grabbing a blanket from the arm. I buried myself in its warmth and false security. The soft wool fibers tickled my skin. I wanted to warn him that I didn’t have a revolving door policy and that once he left, he was gone, but it was Sean…my captivating, gloriously handsome friend now on the cusp of life or death…I couldn’t be as crass as him. It was different this time. He needed a friend; he needed me.
The squirrels were at it again early in the morning. This time, there was one bouncing between the windowsill and his naked branch. My eyes felt like enormous, lethargic weights that I had to force open with my fingers. I was depleted and felt like the only cure would be my caffeine addiction. I climbed from the chair, my bones aching like they were crushed. Nope, just my heart. As I crossed the room toward the kitchen, I peeked at my bed, my perfectly unorganized and uncoordinated bed with turquoise sheets and a watercolor duvet of purples and orange. In my perfectly unorganized bed rested my imperfectly perfect friend, bound in the layers of fabric. He looked strangely peaceful while he slept. As his eyelids stirred with dreaming movement, a smile spread across his face. I took my clothes into the bathroom to dress when, midway through my mascara, my door buzzed. I answered the intercom as soon as my eyes matched.
“It’s Lizzie. Let me up.”
“I’m coming down.” I turned to the bed, calmed with Sean still adrift in the peaceful sea of his dreams. I was tempted to leave a note but didn’t know what to say. Just go. Move on with life now, and move on with your day.