The Life List (The List Trilogy) (42 page)

And by that he meant buying me drink after drink and repeatedly trying to kiss me. Once I had enough of his machine gun style kissing tactics, Slutty Co-worker and I excused ourselves to go to the bathroom and never returned. That was the last time I ever saw Mark. But sadly, it wasn’t the last time I attempted a skanky unfamiliar kiss.

About a month after the Viper Room incident, Slutty Co-worker and I were back at Buckley’s searching for a way for me to get back at Leo. And boy, did we find one. Well actually, we found five. Five guys from the Cal football team. Amazingly, I managed to hook up with a guy
even
younger than Leo. This, if my memory serves me, means the next most unlikely event to occur is that the Oakland Raiders will go to the playoffs.

My guy, who was the quarterback, invited Slutty Co-worker and me back to his parent’s house (yeah, you read that correctly) for a late night BBQ and make-out extravaganza. Apparently he was “house sitting,”  but truth be told, I wouldn’t have cared if his mom were standing in the kitchen with milk and cookies. I wanted pay back for what my mind had convinced me Leo was doing. I no longer cared about the all-important emotional connection, and I was willing to suffer the day-after repercussions of my actions and get dirty with the guy.

“Hey, let’s go in your old bedroom.”

“Uhhhhh, my mom turned it into a scrapbooking room.”

“God, that’s gay. All right then, let’s go to her room.”

About half way down the hall, I grab QB’s belt loop, yank him towards me, and mack on him hard. I
think
he’s cute. Pull away, get another look of the face, good enough, dive back in. Damn it, if Leo’s doing it, why shouldn’t I? This isn’t about pleasure, it’s about retribution!

I grab at his pants and pull him to the floor, and the kisses are flying everywhere as the dry humping commences. Wowie, his stomach is as rock hard as a twenty-one –year- old football player’s…oh wait!

“Are you sure we should do this?  How about if we go out tomorrow night and get to know each other better?”

“Dude, isn’t that what a girl would say?”

“I know, but I don’t want to blow it. You’re just so pretty and stuff.

I’d like to get to know you and…”

“How about we do this first and get to know each other later?”

“Are you serious, you wanna have sex?”

“No, you’re right, let’s just cuddle.”

“Wait, are you being serious about that?”

“No, dumbass, I’m not being serious about cuddling! Come on, let’s just have some fun, can you do that?”

“Hell yeah, but…you just seem so nice. Why don’t we hang out and talk for a while.”

“Man, you’re about as gay as your mom’s scrapbooking room.”

All I want to do is have sex to get back at Leo, and this guy wants to snuggle! I can’t catch a break. I grab my clothes that are strewn down the hallway and yank Slutty Co-worker off of the wide receiver’s lap. As we make our way to the car, the quarterback comes running out with his pants unzipped.

“Hey, I was serious! Will you go out with me?”

“Sure. I’ll call ya.”

As we drive off, I hear him yell out, “But you don’t have my
numberrrrrrrrrrrr
.”

Yesterday, after I got done telling Dr. Maria about the sexual shenanigans of Chrissy Anderson, she surprisingly had a smile on her face.

“Dr. Maria, I swear when I look in the mirror I don’t even recognize myself. I’m spinning in a million different directions at a million miles an hour, trying to escape my thoughts. But seriously…a college quarterback!? I’m making everything worse.”

“You know what the best thing about you is, Chrissy?”

“My ability to repeatedly make an ass out of myself?”

“That you
know
when you’re making an ass out of yourself and you
know
when to get help with your destructive behavior. Look, what you’re doing is perfectly normal. You just have some kinks you need to work out of your system. But you might want to cut back on the drinking and go back to the yoga. You found a lot of answers with the meditation. It’s hard to meditate when you’re drunk.”

She was right. Last night I went to yoga class, and instead of drinking a bottle of wine, I drank a bottle of water, and I slept better than I had in a long time. In the morning, I’m jolted out of my deep slumber by the pounding on my door.
Leo
?! Just in case, I quickly check myself in the mirror before I open the door. Deep breathe in and…

“Hi there, sign here please.”

Damn. But maybe the flowers are from him. My hands are shaking as I open the card.

Happy Birthday, Chrissy.  We hope you find what you’re looking for this year.

Love, Court, Nic & Kel

Holy crap, today’s my 30th birthday. Where’s that bottle of wine I didn’t drink last night?

I know your life is empty

And you hate to face this world alone

So you’re searching for an angel

Someone who can make you whole

I cannot save you

I can’t even save myself… I am just as fucked as you

So just save yourself

(Safe Yourself, Stabbing Westward)

Reunited

October, 1999

Slutty Co-worker’s been seeing the wide receiver she met on the night of my quarterback catastrophe. I don’t think the relationship will go anywhere, but she sure is having a great time playing in his end zone. Suffice it to say, she hasn’t been as available to help me deal with my emotional mini-breakdowns as she has been in the past. And lately I’ve grown tired and
broke
from spending my evenings on Dr. Maria’s couch. So, per my therapist’s suggestion, I do what I should’ve done a long time ago- call my best friends. I decided to make up for being absent for so long by taking them to lunch. We hit up a restaurant in Danville because for some reason I can’t help being a masochistic freak who tortures herself by going back to her old neighborhood that reminds her of just how little progress she’s made in her pathetic life.

“Wow, how long has it been, guys?”

“Long enough for most of us to turn thirty, you…you…you friend abandoner!”

“I know, Nic, I suck. Honestly though, it was for the better. I needed to sort through everything alone.”

“
Well
…did you?”

“I think so.”

“And how do you feel? I mean, you look good…does that mean you feel good?”

“I feel okay. All the work with the attorney is done. Now all we have to do is just sign the papers, sell the house and split up the stuff. Of course, he still thinks I’m throwing him away and I’m a big fat quitter and all that. I swear, it’s like he’ll never really…God, I’m so sick of
everything
being about me! Tell me, how are
you
guys doing?”

Nicole and Courtney give me a quick re-cap of what I missed out on over the last nine months. Their stories are interchangeable and boring and they make me think I don’t fit in anywhere anymore. Then I realize Kelly’s paying about as much attention to the two doctors as I am. Actually, considerably less. I think she’s falling asleep.

“Kell…everything okay?”

“Oh, I’m alright, just a little tired these days. I’m starting to think I have a thyroid problem. I have an appointment with my doctor in a few weeks. Hopefully he’ll give me some pills and it’ll just go away.”

“Why haven’t you talked to me or Nic about any of this?”

“It’s no big deal, Courtney, that’s why I didn’t bother you with it.”

“What are your symptoms?”

“For crying out loud, I’m telling you, it’s no big deal.”

“Then you should be able to tell me.”

“Fine. Some abdominal pain that never really goes away, and I guess I don’t have much of an appetite. Really, I’m sure it’s nothing a pill or a really long nap won’t take care of.”

“So the abdominal pain is chronic?” Kelly looks
wayyyy
perturbed.

“I guess you could say that.”

Just as Kelly bends over to grab her purse, I catch Nicole give Courtney what looks like a worried look.

“Why’d you just look at each other like that? Is she okay?”

Kelly glances up and rolls her eyes while Nicole chastises me.

“Calm down, sensitive Susie! There was no look. I’m sure it is just a thyroid problem or maybe it’s hormonal. I’m not concerned, are you, Court?”

“Nope, no concern here. Don’t let Chrissy’s paranoia worry you, Kelly, you’re fine.”

Without lifting her head from her purse Kelly says, “You guys are freaks.”

During lunch, the four of us make long overdue plans to celebrate our thirtieth birthdays. We’re going to Arizona in December, the weekend Courtney officially becomes as old as us. Other than talk of our trip, the meal is tedious and uneventful. The two doctors talk about their typical confusing doctor stuff, which is usually fine, because Kelly and I spend the time gossiping about every single person we know. But this time Kelly was in no mood to talk, and it made the lunch completely blah. Finally, we hug goodbye.

Before I head back to my cottage, I make an impulsive detour and head to my old house to say a quick hello to the dog. As I drive, I wonder if Courtney and Nicole noticed what I did, that underneath Kelly’s baggy sweater was nothing but skin and bones. It looked to me like she lost about ten or fifteen pounds since the last time I saw her. She did mention that she took up jogging…I’m sure that’s what did it, the jogging! Jesus, I’ve got to stop finding things to worry about and start enjoying my life a little bit more. Lord knows Leo’s having fun. And only the Lord would know, because soon after he left for New York, the voicemail account was shut off. The minute I realized the phone had been disconnected, I drove to his apartment and parked out front like a total stalker. I wanted to rehash the past, to pretend I was showing up unexpectedly just like I used to, to hope some miracle would happen and Leo would come bouncing out of his front door when he noticed my car. But, all of my assumptions about Leo leaving me behind to start a new life were confirmed when I saw a couple of overly pierced white trash losers stumble out of what was once my love palace.

Speaking of contaminated former love palaces…ten minutes after leaving the restaurant, I pull up to my house. Hmmmm…there’s Kurt’s truck, but whose piece of crap Audi is that?

I take a mental note of the Stanford University parking permit, the tennis racket and the bathing suit on the passenger side seat, and after almost permanently flattening my nose onto the car window, I can make out the name Kay something or other on a term paper.
Kayla
?
The chick eho emailed him
?! But this couldn’t possibly be…he wouldn’t bring a girl into our house would he?!

“Do I go in?”

Hell yeah, I go in!

“Hellooooo? Kurt…you home?”

No answer. Hold on! God, I’m so stupid! It’s not like we’re the only people who live on the street. That car must be one of our neighbor’s friends or something. Sure the marriage is as good as done, but he would
never
disrespect what we once shared by bringing another woman into our home. For God sakes, some of my clothes are still hanging in the closet. Our wedding picture is on the mantle, and my doggie lives here. Bringing a woman here would go against everything…
HOLY
HELL
,
IS THAT A BRA
?

All of a sudden my eyes adjust to what I really see in my house and not what I wanted to see. My once beautifully decorated family room looks like the Sigma Chi frat house. There’s beer bottles strewn everywhere, take-out food containers spilling onto my carpet, an ashtray filled with pot, and right next to that are some blankets and pillows that should be on
MY
bed. Then I really focus in on the carnage! Hanging off of the corner of my wedding picture that’s perched atop the fireplace mantle, is the bra. I can’t resist. I walk over to it…34D. Bitch!

To stabilize myself from the nausea that just set in, I rest my hand on the kitchen table, but it slips on the small stack of papers sitting on the edge of it, and I fall flat on my ass. I watch for an eternity as the tiny strips of paper that caused the commotion fly into the air, then float down and rest around me.

“God, could this day get any worse?” I reach out and grab the closest strip of paper. “What the hell is this?” I grab another and another and another until it starts to make sense to me. Airline tickets to Mexico! “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Kurt’s going to Mexico with some girl named Kayla, and they leave tomorrow. Is this some kind of sick payback?

I’ve got to get out of here! Just as I’m about to get in my car, I see the two of them with
my
dog riding their
stupid
bikes back to
my
house. As they get closer, Kurt and I lock eyes. There are no words to describe the look on his face. It’s like grief and terror all crammed together. It’s grerror.

“Chrissy, what are you doing here?”

Without taking my eyes off of the girl, who by the way isn’t as impressive looking as her bra, I answer him. “It’s my house too, Kurt.”

“You have your apartment, and you asked me to stay away from it. This is my space now, and you can’t just pop into it whenever you feel like it.”

“It’s a cottage!”

“Whatever.”

“God Kurt, why don’t you have the guts to say what you want to say?!”

“What’s that?”

“That you’re mortified you got caught because now you don’t look like the victim you wanted everyone to think you were. That you’d give anything in the world for me to be the one on the bike next to you instead of
that
girl. That you wish you could go back in time and do and say everything you know you should’ve to have prevented me from leaving you. That you know I’m strong, you know I’m beautiful, and DESPITE what you wanted me to believe for all of these years, you need me more than I need you. But
nooooooooo
, you can’t say any of that because your pride or your fear or your WHATEVER is
soooooooo
fucked up that it’s easier for you to lose everything than expose your heart.”