Fossil Soup

To everyone else, it was just another night of spades, poker, or some other assortment of throwing cards around a table. As soon as she excuses herself for a bathroom break, it'll become my opportunity.

I am going to call her out.

Why? Well, first things first, to get to the master bathroom, one has to cut directly through my clutter of a bedroom, my sanctuary, my temple. If I had her cornered, she'd be vulnerable. I'd have her where I wanted her.

This isn't going to be any sort of rape situation. I can control myself, and I can even control my anger, which meant I am not going to raise a finger to her. I am going to do something far worse.

She'd lied to me. After laying everything out in the open, stripping myself bare, letting her know why I felt the way that I did, she lied to me. Sure, she had come up with this bogus excuse involving our age gap, but I bought it that night to save the other party guests from even more drama than the host allowed us earlier by kicking out an undesired presence.

This was hardly the same situation. I want her around all the time; I want her to want me around all the time. I want what everyone else seems to have.

Someone to hold on to.

I can tell she wants it, too. I just have to make all the right moves.

There she goes. Here's my chance.

I see her shut the door to the bath, and then the lights flicker a bit before reaching their full brightness in the space at the bottom of the door. The darkness in my bedroom hides the uncertainties, the stuff that isn't meant to be seen.

How am I going to explain this to the other players? She heads toward the bedroom, and I subtly follow suit? What will they think?

I don't say a word. I just do it. I get blank stares, forcing me to crack an uneasy grin to break the silence. Subtle. I slip right past the bedroom door, and I turn on the light.

She takes a step back after her exit, startled at my presenting an obstacle between her and her safety net. She talks first. Perfect. And she says exactly what I was expecting.

"What are you doing..."

"You know what this is about," I replied.

"No, what? What are you talking about?"

The alcohol. I should've remembered! We've never had a sober conversation on both ends. Drat!

"Why have you gone out of your way to hurt me?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I told you I didn't mean for you to take offense. I don't have feelings for you. That's it. Now get out of my way."

"It's not about that. Ok, well, yes it is. But I just have one problem with the crap you tried to feed me last Saturday."

"Just, get out--"

She grabs me by the shoulders, trying to move past me, but I stand still as a stone. Firm. She's every bit as strong as she looks, but with such an athletic background, that's to be expected. I'm no pushover. Not anymore. I'm smelling desperation! With a bit of retaliation, I shove back, and she gathers herself before me, beginning to seethe with anger.

"You KNEW how I felt about you. I told you. And still you saw fit to go after MY TWO BEST FRIENDS."

Did I just raise my voice? I was yelling.

"THEY'VE EVEN GONE OUT OF THEIR WAY TO MAKE IT CLEAR THEY DON'T WANT YOU. AND YOU STILL... UGH, I CAN'T PUT THIS INTO WORDS."

"Shut up, just shut up--"

"No! I have to figure this out right now. What I don't understand is all three of us work the SAME FUCKING JOB, do the same thing in life, and they're all just as young as I am. YOU said that I just don't do it for you. What is it they have that I don't? Huh?"

"I--"

"You what? Come on, you can tell me! They all know what's going on out there now. What are you afraid of?"

Her voice breaks as she starts what I hope is an explanation.

"...Fuck you, I'm not scared of anything."

"You're scared. And I think I know what you're scared of, too."

"You don't know anything about me."

"You're afraid that I just might make you feel. What's the matter? A little too much emotion? TOUGH SHIT! I make it a point in my life that people feel. You can't just escape all the time by drinking yourself to sleep every night instead of crying. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having a heart, and you seem to have made it your sole mission to stomp mine into the ground JUST because I put it out there."

"That's not true--"

"IT IS TRUE. I have feelings, and you disregarded them. Tell me I'm wrong."

"Th--"

"Tell me I'm wrong. FUCKING TELL ME."

"LET ME FINISH, DAMN IT."

She was in tears, bawling her eyes out. In a perfect world, we'd have talked about this rationally, probably parted ways because we didn't see eye to eye, but we'd realized we're human. We'd had an argument, and we weren't even in a relationship. We weren't even dating. But the energy level in the room seemed to drain us, and she dropped to her knees.

I followed suit. Time to ease up a bit. I lower my voice to a whisper, and I put my hand on her shoulder. That long flowing curly brown hair of hers almost distracts me from my point.

"Look, I know you're a lonely person. It takes one to know one."

"You're a bastard. Leave me alone, let me go."

"You don't want to be alone. Don't torture yourself."

"I am not alone..."

I lean towards her a bit, and I wrap my arms around her. She follows suit. My shoulder gets a little damp from the tears, but I don't mind. The high horse had galloped away without a rider for the first time since I'd met her.