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“What’s up, Ruby?” he says eventually, rolling up onto his side.
“I think,” I reply, “that I’m going to need that drink. I’m a little too sober for what just happened.” There is that awkward honesty again.
“Yeah, okay,” he says laughing. “What do you want?”
“Hard liquor,” I tell him. “Like a whole cup is fine.”
“Okay,” he says. “You’re funny. I like you.”
He leaves the room, apparently still totally fine just strolling around naked, but I can’t really blame him. He looks like a fucking statue. I scramble to get my shirt and underwear back on before he returns to the room, and I’m successful. Jake, a man of his word, hands me a whole cup of liquor. I wonder if I should go home, or when, but then we’re watching some kind of a paranormal TV marathon—the kind that is always on late at night in October—and falling asleep together in that same apartment that, just a few days ago, had scared me shitless. In the morning, we have that coffee and shower sex that we didn’t have the last time. I don’t flee and barely make it onto my bus, instead, he drops me off at my apartment in his fancy car and kisses me goodbye before heading off to work. I sit down at my computer, like usual, and get started on all the things I’m close to falling too far behind on, like usual, but nothing feels like usual at all.
I wonder for a minute who the fuck I think I am.
Later that evening, I’m getting ready for work when I hear a knock at my door. I didn’t buzz anyone in, so I assume that it’s Alex, and I’m right. He doesn’t look well, but he gets like this sometimes. I wonder what caused it, but again, that isn’t one of the things that I would just come right out and ask. Sometimes, I’m the sick, lost looking person and I don’t want to be asked about it either. I wonder if he will tell me, if he knows that he can tell me and it wouldn’t change anything.
“Hi,” I tell him when I open the door.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he says. “I didn’t like it. It was weird. I thought I’d come down here and check on you. Make sure you weren’t dead or something.”
“Definitely not dead,” I say. Just preoccupied with my newly found, maybe dysfunctional romance with Jake and our nonstop adorable texting. It is really fucking cute. Even though I just saw him, I miss him. What is this? “I just kind of…met someone, actually.”
“Have you talked to Cori lately?” he asks. He seems panicked. Did he not hear what I said, or does he not care? I tell him that I haven’t; I say that we were work friends but don’t really talk outside of when I see her with him now. I realize after I say this that I may have missed a couple of calls from her because I think I deleted her number one night when I was feeling like texting her things that I probably shouldn’t. I don’t tell him this because the look on his face is something new, and it’s making me uncomfortable. It’s something like panic, followed by relief and something else behind both, but I can’t quite place it.
“Okay, good,” he says. “We umm…we kind of broke up. I tried for a while to fix it, I really did, but I think she’s completely lost it.”
“How do you mean?” I ask.
“She’s kind of stalking me. She was going through my phone and my things, tearing up my apartment. The works.” I’m completely shocked. This does not sound at all like the chill, go-with-the-flow girl I know, but then again, I’ve never dated her. People have secrets; love and pain have a way of making people feel crazy and desperate, and crazy, desperate people can do things that they would never have thought themselves capable of before its onset.
“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry. I never would have seen that coming. You guys seemed so great together.” Whether I’d liked it or not at the time, it was true.
“I know, me too. If you could just do me a favor and not talk to her and let me know if she says anything to you, I’d really appreciate it. I’m really spiraling here.”
What did this girl do to him?
“Yeah, I doubt I’ll hear from her, but I’ll let you know. I mean, that’s awful. You look terrible.” I can say this now, because I know why he looks terrible. He just kind of throws his arms up and gives me this look that saysit is what it is.I’m relieved that I hadn’t thrown my Jake saga into this shitshow. I’m sure that would have made it worse. But then he doubles back to what I had said, anyway.
“So, who’s the guy?” he asks.
“Umm…his name is Jake Turner. It’s not like a big deal or anything, we just met last weekend. But…I like him.” He looks at me like I’ve said something wrong, gets his phone out, and starts typing. He doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. He’s looking for something, I guess. Maybe Cori texted him. Work maybe? Regardless, he’s checked out. I wonder if I should just close the door and go back inside.
“Anyway, I need to finish getting ready. I’ve got to go to work soon, but we can talk later.” I wait for his response for a few seconds and when I don’t get one, start to close the door. He stops it with his hand, turns his phone around, and it’s a picture of Jake. It looks like it’s from his company website.
“Is this the guy you’re talking about? Tell me it’s not.”
But I can’t tell him that, because it is. It’s a goofy corporate website photo, so it’s not Jake as I know him, but it’s undoubtedly him. I don't reply.
“Ruby, no. Not this guy.”
“How do you know him?” I ask.
“His firm…or his dad’s firm…handles some business for my company. He’s in there all the time. He’s rude as fuck—thinks he’s better than everyone. He’s hooked up with half of the girls in the office. You’re not seriously falling for this guy’s shit, are you?”
I didn’t think I was falling for his shit. I liked him, but I barely knew him, too. This was, however, a second negative review, and I’m not necessarily the best judge of character. But what would the casual observer have to say about me? About any of us for that matter? And why do they always have something to say at all?
“I’ve only known him for a week, Alex. I appreciate your concern, but I can make up my own mind about him. The worst-case scenario is he’s a…conceited douchebag, right? I think I’ll be fine.” Casual, nonaggressive, and to the point: a feat I rarely manage under pressure.
“Alright, fine. But I warned you, Ruby. I’m just looking out for you. People like him just don't see people like us, you know? They can’t even begin to fathom what we’ve been through, or how we get through the day.” I start to feel bad now for being upset. I can see that his heart is in the right place, and he is being genuine. In a world where I had no one, where I had to find my people, I always felt so fucking lucky to have found Alex, even if it could never be what I had wanted it to. He’s been a constant for me. He does see me, missing pieces and all.
