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[Ouch!]

I wrote this back in October or November. It's been a while. It's shorter than the other story (Fragments) that I just posted, although still long enough that I'm sure some people will be put off. Whatever. Feedback. Constructive critism. All that good stuff would be greatly appreciated.

COMPLICATIONS

“You mean to tell me that she thought you were gay?” Roxanne asked. I shouldn’t have brought up the story; she wouldn’t forget it any time soon.

“She never made her interest a secret,” I said. “I finally told her that I wasn’t interested, and she asked if I was gay. Just like that, upfront, pointblank. I just laughed and assured her that I wasn’t. She quickly apologized. Then she launched into a short speech about how it was okay if I was gay. I agreed, of course. There’s nothing wrong with being gay, but that didn’t change the fact that I’m straight.”

I paused as the waitress set our lunches before us. We sat quietly until the waitress left, vowing to return with refills for our drinks.

Normally I would drink coffee, but I knew that the pot they had on was at least an hour old. I despised nothing more than I despised old coffee. On top of that, the coffee that this diner served had proved again and again to be cheap. Old cheap coffe--I could describe the flavor as no less than vile. I glanced back over my shoulder across the crowded diner to see that our waitress had disappeared into the kitchen again.

“Kind of pompous of her, if you ask me,” Roxanne said, recapturing my attention. “I mean, you turn her down and she automatically assumes that you’re gay. She must have a very high opinion of herself if she thinks only a gay man could turn her down.”

“A gay man or a stupid man, apparently. My friends told me I was an idiot for walking away from a situation that would have undoubtedly resulted in sex. They would have agreed with her if they didn’t already know otherwise,” I said. I was just playing along, making light of the situation. When it happened, it had been, or so I thought, rather serious. My apparent disinterest in the opposite sex had really come to bite me in the ass. My friends kept the jokes coming for months afterwards. I sighed, sobering, and continued, “Why is it that a guy always has to have getting laid as his primary objective in life?”

Roxanne giggled and shook her head. She only smiled. That contented me. Roxanne calmed me in a way no other could. That’s probably why I kept seeing her so often. We started going out a while back. After we met in the bar that night a few weeks ago, she’d made it her mission to “help me move on.” It had been uncharacteristic of me to share my feelings with a complete stranger, but I’d shared them willingly. She knew secrets that no one else did, and she found out the first night we met. The concept of confessing to a stranger wasn’t new to me; I’d been on the receiving end of such an exchange before. It bothered me that I couldn’t explain for the life of me why she insisted on dating me. That question had plagued me until recently. Now I discovered that the complications that had once held me back no longer existed. Ever since the night I met Roxanne, things had changed.

“Hey, Quinn, buddy, you need to slow down,” the bartender told me.

“You come in here with your friends all the time and never drink, but now I can tell that you’re intent on getting plastered.” I glanced up from the emptied glass to the bartender. He was standing, watching me fixedly. The lights were dimmed, as they always were in this bar, but I could still make out the concern imprinted on his countenance. The dark atmosphere of the bar fit my melancholic mood perfectly. This was the perfect place to sulk. That’s what my friends told me, anyway. I never tested the statement until this evening; I never had a reason to. Besides, my friends also said it was a great place to grab a beer, which we did far more often.

“It’s only one shot,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, that’s one more shot than you’ve had in the past couple years. Jesus, Quinn, what the hell happened? This isn’t like you at all. You’re not the kind of guy who walks into a bar looking to get wasted.” I knew that he was just concerned. I’d been coming to the little bar with my friends for over a year now, always serving as the designated driver. It worked out well for everyone else. Drinking never interested me, so I was the perfect candidate for the job. At first, I had been willing enough, but I soon learned that drunken friends aren’t much fun if you’re not drunk with them. Eventually, I started talking to the bartender, Ted. He was an interesting guy (and usually the only sober person to present whom was worth talking to), and we became quick friends.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I replied.

“You do know that by saying that you only draw more attention to the situation, right?” Ted asked. I had frustrated him now; I could tell by the way he sighed in defeat. “Whatever, Quinn. As a friend, and not as the bartender, I’m cutting you off. If you want to get wasted go do it somewhere else. I don’t want to be responsible when you drown in alcohol.”

With that, Ted turned to take the order of another customer. I remained silent for a moment, wondering if I should tell him. We’d never discussed personal matters, at least not often, and I never once mentioned my feelings for Kira. Such details didn’t escape him, though. I learned quickly of his incredible perceptivity. He could keep a secret, but nobody could keep a secret from him. Nosy didn’t properly describe him; he never pried into other peoples’ business--he just always seemed to know.

“Kira’s getting married,” I said.

Once Ted was done serving drink, he turned his attention to me. He approached me and leaned against the counter. “Damn it, Quinn,” he said. “It’s long past time that you give up on her. She’s getting married--good for her. I think it’s a little early to be getting engaged, but if it’s what she wants, then more power to her. You should be happy about it, not mourning it. She’s your best friend, Quinn. When the hell are you going to accept that’s all you’ll ever be to her?”

“I accepted it a long time ago,” I grumbled, “It came to me in a realization, ‘Once a girl starts talking to you about her love life, you haven’t got a chance in hell.’ I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” I groaned. “Lucas asked me to be his best man at the wedding, too. I accepted, what else could I do? I mean, they’re not getting married until after they graduate, but still. They’re already planning it out. When they told me the news, they didn’t hesitate to thank me for introducing them to each other. As if I wasn’t already aware. I’d like to forget that lapse of masochism.”

“A little melodramatic for you, don’t you think?” Ted said. I grunted in response. I didn’t really know what to say. He was right; I acted like a little kid who didn’t get his way. It bothered me so much because she replaced me. Sure, Lucas had taken my place a long time ago. Kira didn’t come over to hang out at my apartment anymore. When she came over, she always came with Lucas. I realized that I wasn’t the most important male in her life anymore, and that made me jealous beyond belief. Now, the marriage proposal sealed everything.

“You know what you need?” Ted asked.

“If you tell me I need to get laid, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” I said. Ted only laughed and continued, undeterred by my warning.

“Not quite. You need to find a girl. Kira’s not the only woman on the face of this planet. I’m sure you’ve been able to pick up on that detail,” Ted said. I growled. “Kira’s not the one for you. She’s a great friend, Quinn, but she’s just a friend.”

“That’s what girls have told me in the past. ‘Quinn, you’re a great friend. I can’t see you in any other way.’ It basically meant that I wasn’t boyfriend material. Apparently I make a pretty good effeminate male friend,” I said.

“The only reason girls keep turning you down is because they realize you’re not interested. How many girls have you gone on a single date with and then never see again?” Ted asked.

“Too many,” I replied.

“Exactly.” Ted scrutinized me with what I could only describe as a discomforting gaze. He was getting a good look at my disheveled appearance. My unkempt hair stuck up in strange places (I’d run my fingers through my hair one too many times) and my clothes were soaked from the rain (which had started on my way back home from the café where Kira and Lucas had told me the news), though they were drying now.

“You look like :skull::skull::skull::skull:,” Ted said. He paused, listening to me grumble in response. There was no use in refuting his words. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I could do something to help, Quinn, I really do, but you’ll have to deal with this one on your own. You’ve let this go on for too long. It’s pathetic, Quinn.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I replied. At least, I noted, my sarcasm remained intact, though my tone lacked the enthusiasm it usually held. If only I could find my wit, I might be able to end this conversation on a good note. I paused for a moment to try and compose a humorous retort. No dice. It’s back to moping like a hopeless loser, I guess. “Look, if you’re not going to serve me alcohol, can you at least let me sulk in peace?”
Ted threw his arms up in the air in defeat, muttering a quiet “Whatever,” before turning back to his job. He seemed to pay no attention to me after that, as I’d requested, but after a while, he set down a glass of coke in front of me and left without a word. Even if he refused to speak to me, he still worried. He cared enough to serve me what I always got whenever I came here with my friends. He was a good guy; I shouldn’t have treated him the way I did.

“You look like you could use some cheering up.” I turned to my left to see who had spoken to me. I hadn’t been paying much attention to my surroundings, so I hadn’t noticed when someone sat down next to me. When I turned, I saw a young woman smiling at me. She appeared about my age, maybe a year or two older. I couldn’t ignore how beautiful she was, though I definitely held no interest in my current mood, or so I forced myself to believe. She surprised me, but I did my best not to let it show. After glancing at her for a moment I turned back to my drink and resumed my sulking. I considered not responding, but then decided I couldn’t be that much of a jerk to someone who was just trying to be nice.

“I suppose I do,” I replied.

“Well, let’s get out of here then,” she said.
“What?” I sputtered, almost choking on my drink. She couldn’t possibly mean what I thought she did. Apparently, she was unaware of my interpretation of her words. It was probably just my dirty mind at work.
“You agreed that you need cheering up,” she said. “Come on, let’s do something fun.”

“But I don’--" I trailed off, feeling utterly hopeless. I never expected to run into this type of situation.

“What? Oh, wow, I must have come off as pretty cheap,” she said, realizing what she had said, clearly unconcerned about it. “Well, good for you for not walking out of a bar with a strange woman whose name you don’t even know. I’m Roxanne, by the way.” She held out her hand for me to shake. I took it hesitantly. “And your name is…?” she prompted.

“Oh, uh, I’m Quinn,” I said.

“Alright then, Quinn,” Roxanne said, “Let’s go now, shall we?”

“I’ll put this on your tab,” Ted said, indicating to the half emptied glass of coke. He appeared suddenly, ready to ship me off at any opportunity he could. “You’re good for it, I think.” Ted had suddenly turned into a traitor. He encouraged this woman, a stranger (knowing a person’s name does not suddenly make her an acquaintance, much less a friend). If I hadn’t known Ted the way I did, I might have suspected that he had put Roxanne up to this. He wasn’t that sneaky, though.

My eyes darted back and forth between them as I searched for words. I felt utterly hopeless, and, at the same time, I realized that I hadn’t expressed disinterest. Despite my complaints to myself, I didn’t seem to make any outward protests. Before I knew it, Roxanne was leading me away from my seat and out of the bar.


Roxanne glanced down at her watch. “Well, I’ve got class soon,” she said. I nodded. I didn’t have any classes today, so I decided I’d just go back to the apartment I shared with my friend Bill and write. Sometimes I would hole up in my apartment just to write for a few days when I didn’t have classes to go to (or when I didn’t feel like attending them). Bill knew better than to try to intervene at such times. Kira used to be the one who came to drag me out of my seclusion. She stopped doing that a long time ago, though. Roxanne had taken up that mantle. She came to my front door and forced me outside.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said.

“Right, meet me outside the dorm at seven,” she said. We left the small diner. Roxanne wandered towards campus, and I began my trek back to my apartment. When I was nearing home, I remembered that I’d ignored a phone call while I had lunch with Roxanne. Reaching into my pocket, I dug out my cell phone. As expected, a message awaited me. Hearing Kira’s distraught voice over the cell phone surprised me. I didn’t catch the entire message; she was almost unintelligible through all the sobbing. I knew that something was wrong, and I heard the end of the message when she finally managed to calm herself.

“I-I’ve still got a spare key for your apartment. I know Bill is out of town. I’ll just let myself in and wait for you.” I began to hurry home. I had caught Lucas’s name amongst the hysterical crying, and I knew that he’d done something to hurt her. I felt furious. Anger consumed me to the point that I didn’t even realize I had reached my apartment door until I fished the keys out of my pocket. I tried to calm myself as I slipped the key into the lock. I wouldn’t do Kira any good if my anger prevented me from consoling her.

I stepped inside the house, quietly. I couldn’t hear her crying, which was a good sign. The only sound in the apartment was the soft humming of the air conditioner. The door closed quietly behind me, with a barely audible thump. I took off my shoes, setting them to the side of the door, and made my way into the apartment. The kitchen was empty, as was Bill’s bedroom. The door to my room was closed as it had been when I’d left, so she wasn’t in there. I headed into the only other room in the apartment--the living room. On any other day, the room would have been spotless. Bill was a bit of a neat freak, which was perfectly okay with me, and he made sure to keep everything in order. Currently, the room was a little messy, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t fix with a quick clean up before Bill got home.

I found her asleep on the couch. Tears had stained her cheeks red, but otherwise she looked calm sleeping. She awakened when I sat down in the oversized chair in the corner of the room. She looked around, startled for a moment. She looked straight at me, and I felt horrible. I’d never seen her look so hopelessly lost before.

“What happened, Kira?” I kept my voice even and calm. I wanted to demand her to tell me what he’d done so I could go return her pain to him with my fists, but I knew that I couldn’t say anything to upset her. She was already in a fragile state.

“I came home from work during my lunch break to pick up something I’d left at our apartment. When I got there I saw him,” she trailed off into a string of sobs. I didn’t need her to say anything else, though. I knew exactly what had happened. I was able to mask my anger, although I couldn’t say that I was surprised. I’d known the guy for years, and he had always been a horrible flirt. I never thought he’d take it farther than meaningless flirting, though. It seemed that I was way off the mark on that one.

“You’ll stay here tonight, Kira,” I said firmly. She just nodded. “You’ll stay here as long as you need to. I’ll take you over there to get your things tomorrow. For now, we’re going to sit tight and do what we always used to.” She nodded again. She used to come over to my apartment all the time to watch a movie or just hang out. That had stopped a while after she started dating Lucas. When she’d stopped coming, I realized that Lucas had filled my role as best friend.

If this had happened a few weeks ago, I would have been filled with false hope. I’d begin to believe that Lucas and Kira would never be able to reconcile. I was fairly sure, even now, that Kira would end things with him. Even though they were engaged, and their wedding was only a few weeks away, I knew that Kira would never be able to forgive Lucas for what he’d done. She wouldn’t be able to trust him again. I’m sure he knew that she wasn’t capable of trusting him after such an offense.

Without hesitation, I sat down on the couch next to Kira and pulled her into my arms. I felt responsible, at least partially, although I knew it was ridiculous to blame myself. It was true, I had introduced them, but this wasn’t my fault. Yet, I felt guilty. I thought that, perhaps, I would feel guilty because I was happy that it had ended between them. No such perverse joy existed, though. Over the past few weeks, I’d finally begun to really, truly feel happy for them. The marriage made Kira happy, so it made me happy, just as Ted had said it always should have been. Jealousy had always prevented me from understanding that.

“God, Quinn,” Kira said, burying her face into my chest. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. I knew it. I always knew it, but I didn’t do anything about it.” I was thoroughly confused. Was she saying she knew that Lucas had been cheating on her, yet she’d done nothing? That didn’t make sense; she would have dropped him as soon as she found out. I asked the only question that I could.

“What are you talking about, Kira?” I tried to sound supportive, but I couldn’t hide my confusion.

“You’re the only one who’s ever treated me right, Quinn. You’ve always been there for me. I knew that I would be happy with you, but I said nothing. You’re the only one who’s always been there for me.” My body stiffened. Those were the words that I’d been dying to hear for years, but now I didn’t want to hear them. It wasn’t the confession that I thought it would be. It didn’t bring me happiness. Her words were just more complications. Even if she honestly meant those words, they weren’t words that I wanted to hear--not anymore.

I understood Kira’s sudden plea, though. She had always been a little insecure, had always needed to know that someone wanted her, needed her. Lucas had filled that role for her, or so she had believed. Now he had shattered that belief, and Kira was left craving the attachment of others. It was a little childish, but it was the way she was. Now she turned to me because I was there, because she thought I would jump at the chance she offered me.

“Kira, don’t say that,” I said. My voice wavered. What could I possibly say that wouldn’t break her further? I wouldn’t lie to her. Even if she had confessed under different conditions, I couldn’t act on it, and I wouldn’t lead her on now.

“Why not, Quinn? It’s what you’ve been waiting for, right? It’s what you’ve always wanted. You can’t honestly believe in all this time I never noticed how you felt? You’re horrible at hiding your feelings. I’m offering you everything that--”

Perhaps I wasn’t good at hiding my emotions because I never really tried to. My feelings for Kira had never been my dirty little secret. Everyone knew. It would have surprised me if Kira didn’t. It wasn’t a secret; it was just one of those things that we never talked about. Even though it would occasionally become blaringly obvious, we pushed it aside, filing it away for, well, now.

“I don’t want that anymore, Kira,” I said. Her voice hitched. “You’re right, for years I would have loved to hear those words, but things have changed. I can’t be what you’re asking for.” ‘I can’t be what you’re asking for because I want to be that for someone else,’ is what I wanted to say, but I stopped myself short. She understood without me needing to say it.

“I will be your friend,” I continued. “No matter what, I’ll always be your friend. We made a promise, remember? I’ll always be there for you, whenever you need me. That’s what I can offer you.”

“This must be how you felt for the past few years, huh?” she asked, chuckling bitterly. I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to. “I’m sorry, Quinn.” My intention had not been to hurt her. I harbored no desire for revenge. I’d only been honest, but my honesty had been wounding.
We remained quiet for a while, before I stood up and excused myself for a moment. I headed into my bedroom and reached for the phone and dialed the number which had become so natural that it was almost automatic. As the phone rang, I heard Kira turn on the television.

“Quinn?” Roxanne’s voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Roxy, I need to cancel for tonight,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder, back into the other room where Kira waited. “I have an old promise I made to a friend that I need to keep.”

“I understand,” Roxanne said. She knew which promise I spoke of, it was the only promise I had told her that I’d always hold to. It didn’t change anything. It was a promise between two friends; she knew that.

“How about tomorrow night?” I suggested.

“Of course,” she replied. She smiled; I could hear it in her tone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I said. We exchanged our goodbyes and I hung up. When I walked back into the sitting room, Kira was staring at the television intently. She looked forward blankly, not really watching what flickered across the screen. She turned to face me when I stepped into the room.

“She’s lucky,” she said. “Thank you, for keeping our promise.” I nodded and smiled at her. I jerked my head in the direction of the cabinet against the wall. When she began to browse through the DVDs I kept in there, I went into the kitchen and took out the tub of vanilla ice cream that I always kept. I opened the lid to make sure it wasn’t freezer burnt. Even though she’d stopped coming over, I’d never been able to stop stocking the stuff at all times.

Somewhat based on personal experiences with notable (and probably obvious) fabrications. I'll leave you all to think about that or not.