Friday, April 30, 2010

A Poor Decision, A Saga (Part 3)

Once again, I think that this is the last I’ll hear from him. Once again, I’m proven wrong as I’m hanging out with a friend after working in the box office. We're sitting on the couch. I had told her the story and gotten sympathy, which was what I needed at the time. Then, my phone starts vibrating. I look at the screen. The boy is calling.

Wait. What?

I answer, and he asks me what I’m doing.
“I just got done with work.” My mind is racing-why is he calling me now? Does he have STDs? I thought I would never see him again after last week. What does he want? Does he want to see me? Do I want to see him? What’s going on?
My friend takes one look at my face, and takes my hand.
“Oh, well I bought some good beer, do you want to hang out?” His Irish accent is back, is he drunk right now? Does he want to get me drunk and have sex again? Because that’s not going to happen. Do I want to see him?
I keep talking to him, keeping my answers as short as possible. My mind is still racing. He tells me that I should call him.
“Okay. Yes. I will do that.”
I hang up the phone, and look at my friend. She immediately gives me a big hug, reassuring me that everything’s okay.
I get a text from him. ‘call me when you on your own and there arn retarded motherfuckers laughing in the background.’
My response ‘Um, okay.’

Yes, I send grammatically correct text messages.

He replies ‘I bought a case of good beer if you would like to hang out.’

'Would like to'? So polite! My inner chivalry whore is impressed.

I look at my friend, and tell her that I need to leave. My mind is going crazy, and I need to be on my own for a while. She tells me to call her, and that she’ll come over after the show. We hug goodbye, and I walk slowly back to my room. Some things become clear. Yes. I do want to see him again, even if it’s just to ream him out for lying to me. Yes, I am unbelievably, ferociously attracted to him, even though I shouldn’t be.

What if he wants to kiss me? I think I’ll let him? What if he wants to have sex? No. Not tonight. What’s going on? I have no fucking idea.

I get to my room, say hi to my fish Neville and Dumbledore, and call him. He again asks if I want him to come over and says that he has good beer.
“Well, I don’t think that I’ll drink, but I’d like to see you.”
“Maybe I can change your mind?”
“Well, you are good at that.”

He and I agree to meet by the bear statue on the Oval.
I see him walking towards me, with that gorgeous smile, and beautiful gray coat and blue scarf and handsome face. And for some stupid, stupid reason, all the anger flies out of my head. He kisses me hello and tells me “You taste delicious. Like lemonade.” He takes my hand and we start walking towards my dorm. He lights a cigarette, and he puts my arm through his. Seriously, it’s period romance time again.

I ask him how he’s doing and he says “I’m angry.”
“Why?”
“I’m angry all the time, the world is shit! Why aren’t you angry?”
“Well, I agree that some things in the world are awful, but I don’t see the use or reason in getting really pissed off.”
“Why the hell not?”
“You know why, I’m so cheerful it’s a little absurd and I’d rather not screw that up.”

We get to the dorm, and he’s still smoking. After he talks with a friend for a bit, I playfully ask “Can you smoke that faster? I’m cold.” He tells me to go inside and he’ll be in soon. I head upstairs and as I’m walking down the hallway, I hear a whistle. I turn around and see the boy.

I ask him “Isn’t that how you whistle to a dog? Because that might be a little offensive.”
He smiles his rakish grin and says “No, it’s my bird call” as he puts his arm around me.

Cute? How British?

When we get to my room I tell him “I’m surprised you called, I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Well, the way you left last time was weird and uncomfortable, and I was confused and I cried.”
He gives me a long hug. “I’m so sorry, I was freaked out. That’s part of why I called you, I wanted to apologize. I’m really sorry.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I’m sorry.”
“Well, I might use a stronger word than jerk.”
“Why?”
“Um, you left me with a pregnancy scare and an STD scare.”
“Hey, that’s not my fault.”

Suddenly, I turn British for no discernible reason.
“It bloody well is your fault! It’s all your fucking fault! I’ve only slept with two guys before you, and both of them were clean.”
He hugs me again and starts rubbing my back and kissing my hair.
“Look, I’m really sorry.”
“Have you been tested for STDs?”
“No.”

Shit. 

“Do you use a condom with every girl that you sleep with?”
“90 percent of the time.”

Merde.

“Oh yeah? When’s that?”
“When I’m sober.”
“Okay, I’m telling you this both as a concerned friend and concerned party in this situation. You should get yourself tested.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Um….so when you sleep with someone, you can tell them honestly that you don’t have any STDs? For your own peace of mind?”
“Oh. Maybe I will.”
“Yeah. Um, how many girls have you slept with?”
“I don’t keep track of that.”

Merde again.

“Well, how about the last two months?”
“I don’t count.”
“Well in that case, you really need to get tested.”
“I’ll think about it, I promise.”
He slings his backpack on my bed and pulls out some Montana-made beer. I decline, and give him my bottle opener.

He sits down at my desk and I perch on my bed. He turns around.
“Why are you sitting all the way over there?” he asks.
“Um. I’m afraid that if I get too close to you, you’ll convince me that we should have sex again and I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
He laughs a little, and shakes his head. “Why would you think that?”
“Um, because you’re really incredibly good at convincing me to do things, and it would be a mistake. A huge mistake. ”

Matt stands up and comes over. “Hey, move over a little.”
I scoot over and he asks “What do you want right now?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
I think for a little bit, and carefully say “I want someone who won’t lie to me, and I want guys to respect me and…I don’t want to be the 24 hour girl.”
He puts his arms around me and says “Well, I’ll just hold you for now and you can know that I’m going to do everything I can to never hurt you again. I really like you a lot, and I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

After a bit, he says “Hey, are your roommates here?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“Let’s go see if they want to drink!”
“Um, I’m pretty sure they don’t.”
“Well, you should go ask. Please?”
“Um…alright.”

I go to my roommate's door, and see that she’s in the room with a friend. I ask them if they want some beer, and the boy comes and puts his arm around me. He invites them to drink, and they both decline. He then asks “Hey, do either of you have a car?” Thankfully, they both lie and tell him no. Earlier in the night, he had suggested getting really drunk and then “seeing what kind of trouble we can get in” all over Missoula. I told him that sounded like an awful idea.

We go back into my room, and he mutters under his breath “Bitch.”
“Um, what did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay, you either called me, my roommate, or my friend a bitch, and that’s not cool.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m a little angry right now. I think that you should leave.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I know. Right now, that’s not really what I need.”

He kisses me again. And out of my mouth, the stupid words come stupidly tumbling out. “Am I going to see you again?”
“I hope so, I’d like to see you again.”
“I’d like to see you again too. But I think we should take this break and spend it apart and see what happens when we both come back in January.”
He agrees. “That sounds fair. But I’m getting a new phone in January.”
“Well, you’ll still have my phone number. I’m sure we’ll get ahold of each other somehow.”
“Okay.”

He puts his coat and backpack on. He still has his unfinished beer in hand as he starts walking towards the door.
I ask him practically “Do you want to finish your beer before you leave?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Well, I hope you don’t get caught.”
“I never do.”
“Okay, have a good break. Try to stay safe?”
He makes a face. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“Okay, what do you want to hear?”
“Fuck yeah!”
Laughingly, I tell him “Have a stellar break.”

The next time I saw him was in March. We did the awkward hello, and went our separate ways.

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