Loved - A Novel (11 page)

              One night we were hanging out on the back patio at Ethan’s, which was a slab of cement that met a steep hill. I was curled up in an orange velvet chair that sat just outside the door and the guys were standing on the only patch of level grass, smoking cigarettes. I picked at the fuzz on my sweatpants and half-listened to their conversation about drumheads, upcoming recitals and good weed.

              “Dude, that blueberry shit was awesome.” 

              “Yeah, we’ll get some more.”

              “Anyone want to go to Guitar Center with me tomorrow?” Several of my friends were music majors and they were preparing for upcoming junior recitals.

              “I have class and then I work,” I said, even though they probably weren’t asking me. Why would I need to go to Guitar Center?

              I looked at each of the new friends that surrounded me. Kyle was protective—a big teddy bear of a guy, the one who had first reached out to me once Brian was gone. Peter was the artist, weir
d and interesting with whom I had great philosophical conversations that I mostly bullshitted my way through.
Ethan was the sexy one. He had long dark hair and played the drums and his only outfit
was jeans and a plain white t-shirt. There was this particular way he would look at me that made my heart speed up.
I watched him a little too closely sometimes.

              Though I wouldn’t commit myself to another man like I had with Brian, I still craved the attention of a man. I wasn’t getting enough from Chase. Maybe that man could be Ethan.  He was certainly someone who wasn’t looking for a commitment either.

              “Who wants beer?” 

              Ethan went inside to stock up for the group.

As Ethan went
into
the kitchen, two guys came out the neighboring door onto the patio to smoke a cigarette.

              I
was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that I was the only girl
hanging out with a group of stoner guys and I wondered what these neighbors thought of me. My days of being quiet, friendly, “country music Kim” were over. I liked what I was learning about myself but I was scared that when people looked into my eyes they could see the pain that lay behind them. Eyes are windows and the rooms inside of me were different now.

              Ethan came back out with an armful of beers. He offered one to each of the guys. In the orange chair, I tucked my feet underneath my legs and chatted a little with the neighbor guys without taking my attention fully away from the other chatter on the patio.

              Ethan never led the conversation. He interjected only when he truly had
something to say. Most of the time whatever he said made us laugh, the result of wit and excellent timing. While we were laughing he would chuckle lightly, flash a blinding white smile and run his fingers through his hair, and I would melt.

              We all chatted until the bugs began to bite and the group was dwindling.  I hadn’t realized it was one in the morning and I was disappointed that everyone was leaving.  I didn’t need sleep - I needed company.

              Ethan and I went inside. Suddenly eager to fill the silence; he began to tell me about everything he had to do the next day so I sat down next to him on the couch. He was tall, even sitting next to me. 

“Hey, just so you know.  I’m…I’m really glad you aren’t with Brian anymore. I always thought you deserved better.” Ethan said with a sudden earnestness.

“Thank you,” I said.

Then he kissed me. It was slow, not hungry but rather indulgent. This was a passion born of desire, dark and sweet.  I put my fingers in his soft hair and he put his in mine. That was the first night I stayed over at Ethan’s, my heart detached.

              September, 2002.

Chase wrote that he missed me eternally. He quoted
Counting Crows
. He made a list of things that made him happy: the middle finger he can’t give people until they walk away, the feeling he had with the only one he wanted, breaking up a wedding, seeing someone he doesn’t know and telling them they’re beautiful and having someone ache for him. He
said happiness is something that he’d never have again until he had me.
 

              A true artist, the more unhappy he was, the better his creativity. His writing was more beautiful than ever. He was getting lead roles as a freshman at school. But part of a true artist’s spirit is that he can’t believe that people could believe in him. Furthermore, he couldn’t believe in himself.

Sept 2, 2002

I miss you, can I say that? I got a lead in a play, Lysander in Midsummer Nights Dream. You should come and see it. I wish I still believed in magic. Who knows?

Cha$e

              I tried to limit my expectations of him, knowing that he had put a wall between us.  I thought it might be made of paper, but it could have been as solid as the brick wall in our apartment in my dreams.  It could have been a minefield.  I didn’t know.  Still, we spoke often.  He told me a lot about the play, the only thing he was holding onto at school.  He told me how much fun he had blocking fight scenes and how they were ahead of schedule and how the director was so pleased.

              I made plans to go see him over fall break as I had offered.  The closer we got to our visit and to the opening night of his play, the more he began to open up to me and the more optimistic he became.

Sept 11, 2002

Kit - Hello. I love you won’t you tell me your name, how are you? Are you still gorgeous? I’m sure you are.  I’m okay.  I don’t wanna sound like “the boyfriend” or anything, coz’ I know it’s not like that, but I really can’t wait to see you.  Everyone here is tired of listening to me talk about you.  They just wanna see you, but not as much as me. Even after all the drama, all the pain and hurt and loneliness, I just wanna see you and hold you and kiss you and have you.  Until you leave again.

I love you.  “Are you waking up slowly, nothing but lonely, are you waking up holding, holding your breath?”

Chase

Sept 30, 2002

Kit - Hey there sugar pop.  I’m so glad you called.  I really am.  I can’t wait to see you.  I don’t care how many times I have to say that, I will always mean it.  I went to the gym again today, but I should stop telling you I’m getting buff because you’re going to expect me to look like someone else, like 98 Degrees or something.  I’m sorry, that’s not me.  But I do love you, to the point where I wanna climb a mountain and tell the world, even if no one was listening, I would still be happy being able to say it.

I like this, this thing where we have feelings for each other, but not like, you know?  I dunno, I just love you, and I want you in the rest of my life.  Can I keep you? 

Shine

              Seeing each other while I was home that fall would be a chance for us to decide what was still there after all of our back-and-forth and if it was enough to save. The pressure built higher and higher as we neared that anticipated week in October.

              I had plans to see
Counting Crows
play at The University of Pittsburgh, stay with Meredith and then drive to see Chase at his school.
The concert was amazing; it was even better, probably, than when I had seen them in Nashville.  The set was very dark and romantic with lights behind the backdrop that resembled stars in the night sky and giant candelabras
on the stage. Adam Duritz sat at the piano or stood at center stage throwing his arms out
emotionally as he sang, and I felt more alive than I had in a long, long time.

              I heard that the band would sometimes meet fans by their tour bus after shows so Meredith and I circled the arena on foot but we couldn’t see the bus. I knew it had to be close by. Then, we spotted an alley blocked off by wooden police barriers and a guard standing on watch.

              “Can we go back there?” we asked.

              He nodded. 

That was it. We were in. A few steps past the barrier, the bus came into view with a small crowd of people hanging out around it. There were maybe twenty or thirty people in the crowd and in the middle, a guy with spiky dreadlocks.  My knees began to shake. 

I could not believe it.
This man had been singing straight to my heart for months now. His words were my feelings. He had led me back to Chase when I had been lost.  He spoke for my inner voice when I was silent. I had him to thank for teaching me how deep love could be and that no matter how lost it seems or far away it feels, love is worth it.  How could I say that all to him in a moment?

              He signed my concert ticket and took a picture with me. Meredith was smiling ear to ear, knowing the importance of the moment she had just captured on my camera.

              I said, “You’re my hero and I like your coat.” It was brown with shearing trim. 

              He said, “Thanks and I like yours too.” I was wearing a gold fur Betsey Johnson coat, one of my first real designer clothing items. 

When we got in the car, I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

              The next day was Saturday. I drove to Chase’s college where I found him outside of his dorm building. He hugged me. We were both smiling ear to ear but we were hesitant with each other. It was like someone had handed us each a treasured object that we’d been coveting but that we were afraid might break.

              It drizzled all day and the brick buildings looked sad against the gray sky. Chase walked me around the campus introducing me to anyone he knew. “This is Kit, the love of my life.”

              I saw the school’s production of
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
that night. Chase played Lysander, one of the main roles. He had to kiss a girl twice, which was hard for me to watch but I was blown away by his acting. Shakespeare isn’t easy and he pulled it off with so much charm and so much life.

              That night, I showed Chase pictures from school. He loved a Polaroid of me taken at an art benefit in Nashville.  The theme had been Moulin Rouge. My dress was black and red with spaghetti straps and a fishtail hemline, and my long blonde hair was wavy, the way he liked it. I wore smoky makeup on my eyes. He liked the picture so much that he wouldn’t let me take it home with me. I wrote on the back “Love, your Kitten. Purr.”

              We kissed each other until we were too tired to keep going. I could still feel him holding back. It was my penance for what I had done to him. All I could do was hope the walls would fall and that I could have all of him again, but I was always leaving and he was tired of watching me walk away.  We both knew that I couldn’t stay and that he couldn’t come with me, but still, we couldn’t let go.

              It didn’t turn out like I’d expected. That love that had remained so strong and waiting under the surface was a mirage. Or maybe we had just done more damage that I’d realized. Once I was back in Nashville, Chase stopped calling or emailing very much, and when I did hear from him, he was extremely distant. I finally confronted him, asking what was going on.

Oct 21, 2002 “Playing with Uranium”

Truth? I don’t know how I feel.  When you were here, it was good, but I realized that I’ve changed since we’ve been together. I don’t know what it is, but the spark really isn’t there for me any more.  I’m sorry.  I don’t know what that means, but I feel like I should say something.  I don’t know what any of this means, but yet, I am seeing someone here.  I’m sorry, Kit, I’m a dick, but you want the truth so I’m giving it to you.  I dunno.

Chase

I love you.

              Push, pull, look away.

              Could I move on from Chase? I didn’t know. It was impossible to say,
oh well, that’s that
, and move on. Only time would tell if I really would be able to let go, and for the time being, seeing Ethan suited me fine. It was okay with me that we only hung out late at night and there was usually alcohol involved. Even in the day, even sober, we were cloaked in desire. We didn’t tell the guys about us and we were never affectionate in front of them but they all knew it. We had this chemistry that set the air on fire between us. He would look at me from across the room and everyone could feel the heat
.

              I suspected that he was dating other girls when he would come home late to find me drinking with our friends, his friends. He wouldn’t mention where he’d been but he would give me a look that said
don’t leave,
and I would stay until everyone else had gone and he would take my hand and lead me back to his bedroom.

              I didn’t want another boyfriend who wasn’t Chase but I wanted love, and I really wanted Ethan. I knew how to enjoy every moment with him; the soft curls of his hair, the darkness in his room, the heat of the alcohol in my blood, his lips on my throat and the pulse of the music on the stereo. 
Bat your eyes girl, be otherworldly. Count your blessings. Seduce a stranger. What’s so wrong with being happy…?
An Incubus song played while I fell asleep in Ethan’s arms.

              Incubus had played in Nashville the week before. I went with some of the girls from Betsey Johnson, where I had started working. True to form, I met the tour manager, talked with him about his job and explained that I wanted to be a tour manager too. We exchanged email addresses to keep in touch as I was still pursuing my dream, though I was beginning to forget why.

              One cold afternoon, I was slowly making my way home from class. It was dark, though it wasn’t even 5 o’clock.  I was thinking about how much I hated the lifelessness of winter and that’s when my cell phone rang.
It was a Westville number that I didn’t know.