The silk of my robe glides over smooth legs. A faint wind blows through the palm trees. The sun is so bright, it's almost unbearable without sunglasses. As I squint through lazy eyes, I watch a silhouette of tanned muscles carry a tray over to me. A caipirinha. The glowing green of the drink mixes with the sunlight and the two are hard to tell apart. Its stinging taste on my tongue, however, is easy to distinguish. I lounge; a lizard perched on a rock in the desert. My skin pulsates with the sun it's taking in. When the soft melodies waft in from my home's sound system, I grin to myself and relax more deeply into my chair. I hear a distant ringing. When another tanned body appears at my side, I know it must be the phone.
"Just bring the phone to me out here," I say, not wanting to get up.
"I'm sorry, madam. Someone's at the door for you. His name is Trawlen." Shock courses through my previously limp body. What the fuck is Trawlen doing here? How could he have found me? I rise stiffly from my lounge chair and walk, in my precarious heels, towards the foyer. What greets me there, shocks me even more. Trawlen isn't Trawlen. Or at least, he doesn't look like Trawlen. It's Kyle.
"Kyle..." It comes out as a whisper, but the room is so huge that my whisper echoes. Kyle comes striding towards me and I freeze in place, unable to turn away from him. He comes up very close to my face, a furious gaze in his eyes.
"How dare you!" His mouth is quivering with anger. I've never seen him like this before.
"Kyle, why are you here?" My mind is screaming at me to run away, but my feet are as heavy as cement blocks.
"Excuse me, madam." His voice dripping with disdain. "I thought you wouldn't mind another one of your toys to come calling." His eyes bore into mine, making my chest start to ache. It's getting harder to breathe.
"Kyle..." I want to ask so many questions. What is he talking about? Why is he here? Why is he so angry?
"Stop saying my name, you bitch!" His eyes now not only angry, but sad. Light tears begin to form along the bottom rims of his eyes. The chandelier's light reflecting in them.
"Why are you so angry? What happened?" I reach out to touch his cheek, but he bats it away. My hand stings and my anger flares. "What was that for? Kyle, answer me!"
"I hate you. You know exactly why I'm here. You brought me to this place. You played me, made a fool of me. You betrayed me. And now you stand here... in complete denial of what you did to me." His tears, once stagnant, now slip down his cheek. My face of anger turns to compassion. My chest begins to hurt even more. I can barely catch my breath and my legs feel weak. But he continues.
"I used to love you. I can't remember what I ever saw in you. You robbed me of my love. My heart. I can never get that back. And it's all your fault." Now, he's sobbing. His voice cracking under all his pain. As he cries, his tears begin to blur my vision. His face becomes colors and shapes, the room closing into darkness. I can hear the distant sound of beeping.
Before I open my eyes, I realize it was a dream. I'm sleeping in my comfy bed, the covers protecting me from the morning. My alarm is sounding. I pull the covers even further over me, only to bump into someone's stomach. Kyle. He reacts to my movement by cuddling closer to me.
Dear God! I had forgotten he was here. My dream had cut me off from reality. My mind is whirling now with what I should do. I need to vomit. I want to pull myself away and run into the bathroom to hide. But the warmth of his body pulls at me. His safe embrace convinces me to tough it out. He deserves better than that. As soon as I've decided against moving I curl away from him, my body betraying me. Kyle's arm hits the empty space between us and I feel him roll over. He's obviously not awake yet and I've gotten away with it. I shouldn't have.
I gently open my eyes and hit the alarm clock, 6:15am. I don't want to get up, but it's better than facing Kyle beside me. I drag myself to a sitting position, where I stretch out my aching shoulders. The window is dark still, the sunrise awaiting its cue. The floor is cold under my bare feet. I glide my cold feet into my slippers and turn my hotplate on. The sound of the water boiling wakes Kyle up.
"Morning beautiful..." He moans. I turn to see him sitting up on the edge of the bed, his hair ruffled from sleep. He looks at me from beneath half-open eyes and grins. I grin back. He's always so happy.
"Morning, " I reply. I pour, offering him a mug of black tea. He takes it gratefully, although I know he prefers coffee. After taking a short sip, Kyle looks at me concerned.
"You look exhausted. Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah... I guess." I crack a small grin, but he looks a bit perplexed.
"You sure?" He rubs his eyes open and pats his hand on the bed, asking me to sit by him.
"I'm fine. Nothing tea won't cure." I can feel the ends of my lips becoming one with my cheekbones as I try to smile. The morning's cold becomes painfully apparent. I relinquish my frozen lips, licking them. Suddenly, they're chapped and rigid. I take a sip of tea.
Kyle peers at me, curiously watching me drink. "What's wrong?"
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong." My lips fall.
"Yeah... yeah, there is. You just seem really uncomfortable." He puts his mug on my side table, the steam from the tea still rising.
I keep drinking my tea, turning away from him. I walk to the window and sit, noting how the sky seems to be moving quickly. I hear nothing of him behind me. No footsteps, no rustling of bed sheets, no loud click of the bathroom door. I finish my mug, but I don't get up just yet. My body is transfixed to the spot. I force my mind to set my body in motion, but I can feel my muscles tense up in protest.
Finally, I hear a footstep. Kyle is close, his presence dominating my space. The hair on the back of my neck pricks up. His hands on my shoulders are light. I barely register that they're there, until I feel the skin on my arms growing colder. I stand and put my mug on the nearby table. Inside me, I feel a running begin. My nerves are alight with energy. I've moved away from Kyle so slightly, but his hands are no longer touching my skin. For a moment, I can't breathe. My eyes see nothing but bright yellow streaks and flashes of purple.
I pull my arms closer to my chest for warmth. Kyle moves closer. I can only turn around and enter his presence. He rubs his hands down my back. My arms slide down from their protective stance. He pulls me in closer to him, my breath bouncing off his skin and back into my mouth. A million thoughts are jumbled in my mind and I'm starting to feel light-headed. I sway on my feet, but Kyle just holds me tighter. My body feels overly alive. Walking faster, talking faster throughout the day, nothing seems to deter its strength.
Rocky's cafe isn't much to look at from the outside. But it's eclectic on the inside. This place always makes me think of a careless painter's palette; colors falling everywhere, almost abstract art.
Gossiping with Bobby and Jasmine helps me remember why I keep friends like them: so they don't gossip about me to others. Bobby is currently ripping into Veronica, a girl who reportedly stole his boy toy away during fall break. Apparently, Bobby's boy toy Paul, hadn't mentioned that he's not yet out. I guess Paul and Veronica had been dating on and off for a long time. They broke it off last spring, but something happened a couple weekends ago and now it's a big mess.
"She's even got a song for them. They have a song. Of course, it's her idea. Paul would never have a song with her, right?" Now it was our job to reassure Bobby that Paul was his match made in heaven and no woman or man would ever take that from him.
"Oh, absolutely," Jasmine replies. Bobby looks to me for the same answer. I stumble.
"Oh, uh... yeah. Completely." Bobby's eyes widen a bit and his mouth drops open.
"Ok, dish." Bobby sits back.
"Huh?"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, missy! There's something dancing around in your head.... TALK!" Jasmine sits forward in her chair, eyes aglow.
"There's really nothing to...."
"Is it Kyle?" I stop and look up at Jasmine. Her voice and the mention of his name cutting off my plan of denial.
"Who's Kyle?" Bobby's eyes darting between me and Jasmine.
"A guy. He's sweet actually. But she's keeping him hidden. I only ever see him in the hallway. I've never had a proper intro." Jasmine turns to look at me, a disappointed face.
"Shameful," Bobby says, turning to look at me too. We all sit there, silent. Jasmine and Bobby's eyes imploring me for an explanation. For a few moments, I actually think I can sit silent with them and not say anything.
"Ok..." They both let out sighs of relief and curiosity.
"Kyle's a friend. It's not anything big, but we've been seeing each other."
"Seeing each other naked? Because he's over there quite often..." Jasmine used to make me laugh at such comments, but today I'm not amused.
"That's none of your business."
"Oh, she's testy today. Feisty... I like it." Bobby grins, but for some reason I can't grin back.
"Can we change the subject? I'm sure Jasmine has something to talk about." Bobby squints his eyes at me before Jasmine can share her detailed story about how her last sex was nice and rough. I can barely drink my tea when she gets to the part about the bruises she left on his ass. Bobby pulls me aside after we leave the cafe and links arms, walking with me.
"So, what's up?" He smiles at me and I smile back, a weak smile.
"Nothing. I'm fine. I just want to go home and sleep. I haven't been sleeping well lately." I turn my head and look at the fields of wildflowers, now dormant for winter. The ground is hard and dark, littered with failing weeds and tall grasses.
"You were always such a bad liar, Ang." We walk a little further without me saying anything. "Are you ok, though? I mean, I don't have to kick someone's ass do I?"
"No, no nothing like that. It's all mental."
"So, tell me. You can tell me, right?"
"Bobby.... it's difficult."
"What... what are you scared of?" The words spill out of me before I can think about what I'm saying.
"I'm scared that if I start talking about things that I'll just break down and cry. Or... or... I don't know."
"And what's so bad about crying? People do it everyday. There's someone right now in the middle of New York City... crying. A little girl who didn't get the toy she wanted for her birthday because her parents are broke, or an old man at his sister's funeral, or even a college student who has a lot on her mind and needs to break free. Ang, it's ok to cry." With those words alone, I can feel the tears building up behind my eyes. I stop walking and Bobby turns to look at me. "Ang, just talk to me." Something in his voice pushes at my skin and I shiver.
"I nearly cried in front of Kyle. It was terrible and wonderful at the same time. He held me, said that everything was going to be ok. But it's not. I just know. He's going to end up hurt and betrayed, just like in my dream. I can't do that to him. But I'm going to, right? Right?" Bobby looks confused for a second, but instead of asking questions or hugging me, he pulls my chin up, looking directly into my eyes.
"You are a bad person." He pauses, as I try to understand why he would say something like that. "But you're also a good person. Angela, you're not perfect. Am I perfect? No. Is Jasmine? Of course not. But if you look into a person and see why they are the way they are, we can understand them." My tears have stopped. Bobby's eyes are wide and somehow cold. I expected him to understand that there's so much more to it than that. But is it better than having someone comfort you and not understand that nothing's ever alright? Bobby is telling the truth. Nobody's perfect. I wipe my cheeks, even though no tears have fallen and take a deep breath.
"Ok?" Bobby's holding my elbows and the pressure is calming.
"Yeah... I'm ok."
"So, do you want to keep talking?" I shake my head. "You sure? I'm willing to shut up and listen." He raises his hand to swear, but I grab it back down.
"Bobby, thank you. But maybe I need to think first. Or paint. Or something. I'll call you tomorrow?" I smile at him, willing him to understand.
"Yeah, cool. Take care of yourself, ok? I can't have my best friend going nutty. Especially with Thanksgiving around the corner. You're invited." The comment makes me smile. Last year, Bobby's family took me in for the holiday. I've never met such warm and generous people. But then I remember that my project needs to be finished before then. My smile fades slightly and I turn away and wave goodbye.