Diving In (10 page)

“Yeah, dude,” I shrug. “Why are you getting
weird about it?”

“I … I’m not,” she replies, stumbling a
little bit. She shuts up after that and then goes to sit down at
the breakfast bar that looks over the counter.

“Eggs are almost ready and I got some turkey
bacon for you, since I know you don’t like the real thing,” I
smile, motioning to the stove.

“Ok,” she says, but her voice is all
deflated.

“Lo, what’s going on?” I ask her, stopping
what I’m doing to come around the counter and stand in front of
her.

She pauses and I can see her brow starting to
furrow. She’s still pissed. “Did you at least change your fucking
sheets before you had me in your bed? I’d hate to think I slept on
the same sheets where you fucked those nasty-ass bitches.”

“Whoa! What?” I say, stepping back.
Where
the fuck did that come from?
“You’re pissed about Lexi and
Tara?”

“No,” she says, clearly meaning yes.

“Why would you be mad about that?” I ask her.
“You know what my job is, you know that I do that shit all the
time. Fuck, I’ve told you about almost every chick I’ve banged and
you’ve never once flipped out like this. What’s the deal, kid?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, but she won’t look me
in the eye.

“Nah, I’m not gonna let you just shut it down
like that,” I say, taking her face in my hands and making her look
at me. “Why are you pissed?”

“You make me feel like a jealous girlfriend,”
she murmurs. “I don’t like feeling like I’m some whiney girl who
bitches when you fuck somebody else, but that’s how this makes me
feel.”

“Well don’t feel like that,” I shrug
.
Isn’t this perfectly obvious?
“You’re getting all crazy like I
cheated on you or something. Fucking them isn’t cheating. How the
fuck could I cheat? I’m not your boyfriend.”

Her lip shakes and I can tell that really
hurt her feelings. I feel like an asshole.

“Wait, that sounded mean. I’m sorry,” I
immediately apologize. “I just—that’s not how I meant to say
that.”

“It’s ok,” she shrugs and hops off the
barstool. “You’re right.”

She starts shuffling back to the bedroom, but
I catch her elbow and turn her around. “I’m sorry, baby,” I say to
her. “I really am, ok? I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh. I
just meant that we’re best friends and that you never usually get
all weird about me and other girls. Talk to me. Tell me what’s
going on here.”

“I don’t know,” she says and her voice
trembles a little.

“It’s ‘cause of what we did, isn’t it?” I
nod, putting my arms around her to comfort her. That’s what
happened. She let loose and shit got real, so now she’s all jumbled
up inside about how she feels. She likes me, and I mean “like”
likes me.

“It’s not that,” she says, totally lying.
“I’m just bummed about having to go back to school.”

“No you’re not,” I cut right to it. “You’re
bummed because you felt something for me. You’re freaked out
because something happened and now you don’t know how you feel
about me.”

“How would you know that?” she timidly
responds.

“Because I feel that way about you all the
time,” I say.

“What?” she looks up at me with
confusion.

“Yeah, dude,” I smile. “I like you so much,
Lola, and it makes me get all weird when I think about you being
with other dudes—even just being friends with other guys. I told
you, you’re my treasure, kid, and I don’t want you to open yourself
up to anybody else.”

“Yet you can still do it whenever you want
to?” she pouts.

“I just … I can separate it out, I guess,” I
reply. “I can take how I feel about you and put it someplace else,
someplace away from the girls I want to fuck or the girls I work
with.”

“I can’t,” she whispers so quietly I can
barely hear it.

“I know,” I say, pulling her into my chest
and holding her close. “I was worried about this. You’re a romance
kind of girl and you can’t randomly fuck around with somebody
without feeling something deeper.”

“That’s probably true,” she says with a
resigned sigh.

“I shouldn’t have even started it, really,
because I was worried this would happen and I’d end up hurting your
feelings. I just started thinking about it and I wanted it so bad.
I’ve never done anything like that with you and I got so obsessed
with the idea that I didn’t think about the consequences. I just …
I’m really sorry,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

She takes a deep breath and I feel her relax
a bit. “This is your fault,” she says with a little smile. “You’re
so good that it made me lose my mind. It’s like Ghostbusters. You
crossed the streams and now I’m all fucked up and confused.”

“Hey,” I chuckle, “I’m confused too. I’ve
known you since you were six years old and you were just naked on
top of me. You’re not supposed to get a hard-on thinking of your
best friend, but you turn me on all the time and I could have blown
a load in my fuckin’ boxers when I watched you come this
morning.”

She giggles and shakes her head.

“This shit confuses the shit out of me
because I shouldn’t want it as bad as I do—and I really fuckin’ do.
I should not get this horny for my best friend, but you do that to
me and I have no idea why, how or what to do about it, so I just
let it slide,” I elaborate.

“So, it’s not just me who felt it?” she shyly
smiles.

“Hell no!” I laugh. “I wasn’t lying when I
told you I wanted to do all kinds of nasty shit with you. You don’t
think it fucks my head up to want to bang my best friend? I’ve
practically, like, sworn an oath not to let anybody fuck you who
doesn’t deserve you and then what the fuck happens when I’m the one
who’s trying to fuck you? I’ve, like, violated everything I stood
for, for fuck’s sake!”

She laughs and wraps her arms around my hips,
resting her cheek on my chest. “We really shook shit up, didn’t
we?” she giggles.

“Yes, yes we did,” I nod.

“So this should be the beginning and end of
all this,” she says. “Probably need to put the breaks on any
further sex stuff or else we’ll be royally fucked up for years to
come.”

“I totally don’t want to do that—because
you’re sexy as fuck and I love getting to do sexual shit with
you—but you’re right,” I smile at her as I hold her face in my
hands.

“Ok,” she sighs. “Best friends, from now on,
then?”

“Word,” I grin, holding out my pinky for her
to pinky swear me.

She hooks her finger in mine and gives me a
nod.

“Now let’s eat some fuckin’ breakfast. I’m
super hungry.”

“Me too,” she says, going with it when I take
her hand and lead her back to the kitchen.

James and I are standing just outside the
security screening area at LAX. My bag is checked, my boarding pass
is printed and all my liquids over 3 oz. have been packed away with
my toiletries bag. I’m departing in just under a half hour for the
long trip back to my dorm all the way on the other side of the
country. My heart hurts already from how far I’ll be from
James.

“I hate this,” I say, trying my very hardest
not to cry.

I know it would be stupid to cry. I’ll
probably see him again in the next three months or less, so I
shouldn’t be sniveling about leaving. Still, parting ways with him
this time will be a lot harder because of what we did. I feel
closer to him now, almost attached to him, and it’s like ripping
off a bandaid to head back to reality like this.

“I’m gonna miss you like crazy,” he
smiles.

“Oh, dude, you have no idea how much I’m
gonna miss you!” I grin. “You’re here with sun and palm trees. I’m
going to the east coast. In winter. To go write thesis papers and
take exams and shit.”

He laughs and tucks my hair behind my ear.
“You ever thought about going to school out here? UCLA can be very
nice, I hear.”

“After this trip, I might consider it,” I
say, only half joking. I’d love to be closer to him, but I got into
a great school and I’m sure a bunch of my credits wouldn’t
transfer, so everything would be complicated.

“Alright,” he smiles, “well, needless to say,
I love you and I’m crazy about you and I’m gonna think about you
constantly and count down the days until I can cuddle you in my bed
again.”

“That better be soon, either at your place or
out at my school. I’d love to see how my roommate, Rachael, reacts
when there’s a big, burly hunk sleeping in my little-ass dorm bed
with me wrapped up around him like a fucking Burmese python.”

He grins and gives me a wink. “I’ll show you
a python,” he jokes.

I laugh loudly and give him a playful smack
on the shoulder.

I should go. The security line is long and
those people can fuck up your whole day if they decide you’re
worthy of a random screening. I hike my computer back up on my
shoulder and gaze longingly into James’ eyes.

“Wait,” he says softly, “before you go, I
have to do something.”

“Ok.”

“Close your eyes,” he smiles.

“Why?”

“Do you trust me, Lola?”

“Yes.”

“Then close your fuckin’ eyes,” he
chuckles.

I do as he says, trying to attune my other
senses to what he’s trying to do. I smell his shampoo mixed with
his trademark virile, masculine scent—a combo that makes me
inwardly swoon. Just so male. And so hot.

I keep my eyes closed when I feel is lips
brush against mine in the most tender, sweet, soft little peck I’ve
ever experienced.

My eyes slowly open and he’s staring down at
me with this reverential, appreciative, loving gaze that makes my
heart swell.

“I just wanted to do that before we stopped
the sex stuff for good,” he says.

My God!
How I’d like to throw my arms
around him and lock him in a kiss like something out of a movie.
He’s stunningly beautiful, standing in front of me in jeans and an
olive green t-shirt that does wonders for his tan skin and clings
to his spectacular pecs. His long hair falls in perfect waves at
his shoulders, he’s got a little bit of stubble that brings out the
delicious shape of his pouty lips and his hazel eyes practically
sparkle as he looks at me.

He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my
boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend.
It’s probably good that I’m
leaving because I’d never be able to focus on that mantra with him
standing in front of me. I’ve got functioning eyes and no amount of
mental willpower could overtake what I see: a gorgeous,
breathtaking, stunningly beautiful man who just gave me a little
kiss. A man who’s just as confused as I am about what our little
escapade meant. A man who cares about me, who wants to protect me,
who cooks for me and makes me laugh and has all the makings of a
perfect boyfriend. But also a man who’s not my boyfriend and could
never really be my boyfriend—or anyone’s boyfriend, for that
matter. James has everything a girl could ever want, except that
monogamy gene that tells him to keep his dick out of slutty porn
stars. A sad fact of life, I guess.

“Bye, kid,” he says softly to me, his
fingertips caressing the side of my face.

I turn to go to security, but I snap back
around and grab his hand. “Wait!” I say. “One more.”

I stand on my tiptoes and he bends down so I
can place an affectionate, close-lipped kiss on his mouth.

“Ok,” I say feeling my cheeks flush, “now I
can go.”

“You’re the greatest ever, Lola,” he smiles
and gives me a wink.

“Right back at you, stud,” I smile, blowing
him a kiss and heading off to the TSA line.

When I finally get to my window seat on the
plane, I think back on the weekend and on my friendship with James.
He means more to me than anyone I know, but I should never combine
that with how attractive I find him because it’ll make me fall
madly in love with him and that can only lead to disappointment.
He’s never disappointed me as a friend, always been loyal and
caring, so I shouldn’t fuck that up by expecting more from him.

The way I freaked out in the kitchen this
morning was wrong. I know James. I know what he is. Finding those
panties should have come as no shock to me. In the words of Liza
Minnelli in Cabaret, “A tiger is a tiger, not a lamb.” James
practically radiates sexuality and women lose their minds over him
like they’re OD’ing on pheromones or something. The fact that he
had a three-way with two porn stars a few days before I arrived
isn’t even news. It’s nothing I wouldn’t have already guessed, so
it was dumb to have a shit fit over it. He didn’t do anything wrong
because I’m not his girlfriend and I don’t hold dominion over who
he screws in his free time. I need to accept that and move past it,
because I love him so much and he’s my best friend. I can’t harbor
any resentment towards him for doing what he always does: getting
laid.

I have class to look forward to, a new
school, new friends, new opportunities. My future’s ahead of me and
I know James will always be a big part of it, but it might be nice
to do some growing up. Maybe flirting with some other guys will
give me a chance to stop wistfully dreaming of a relationship with
my best friend, who just so happens to be incapable of monogamy.
James is in my heart forever, but I need to do what he said; I need
to separate it out and put the part of me that adores him far away
from the part of me that’s so sexually drawn to him. Never the two
shall meet. They never can. It would end in a fucking disaster.

When the flight attendant announces we’re at
cruising altitude, I recline my chair back and decide to catch some
sleep. Though James and I may be far apart, we’re always together.
As long as I don’t let my lingering emotions get in the way, we can
be together forever, the very best and tightest of friends. Sure,
maybe we won’t get to fool around anymore, but being best friends
is definitely good enough for me.