Page 96
Story: Tell Me What You Want
“OK, I’ve had sex with Fernando.”
“Here, before I arrived?”
“No, nothing ...”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I slept with him in Madrid but not here.” Eric curses, but I continue. “Since I’ve been here, there’ve only been a couple of kisses and ...”
“That guy is not the kind who’s satisfied with just kisses. I’ve seen how he looks at you, and when he talked about sharing the beer, God ... I could have bashed his face in!”
“I’ve never been with him the way I’ve been with you because he’s not you, goddamn it. And you know what? I’m leaving. I don’t want to hear any more BS from you. When you calm down, call me, and maybe I’ll forgive you for this.”
I turn around, grab my helmet and goggles, and—still lugging the trophy—I leave the house, start my bike, and take off. Who does Eric think he is, talking to me like that? Why is it that I demand nothing from him, but he feels he can make demands on me? When I get to the white gate, it opens so I can exit. I push the accelerator, but before I cross, I brake and scream in frustration. I get off the bike and kick the air a couple of times. I could kill Eric when he gets like this.
The white gate closes after an instant, and for a few minutes, I squat on the ground and just close my eyes. Eric exhausts me. His constant mood swings discombobulate me; I never know what he wants and, even less, how to proceed.
Suddenly, I hear a roaring sound. I lift my head and see Eric on his motorcycle coming toward me. He stops the bike, kicks the kickstand into place, and climbs off.
“How can you be so cold?” I ask.
“With practice.”
I sigh and get up off the ground.
“You exasperate me, Eric. I can’t deal with you. There are times I just want to murder you. You think you’re the king of the world! But you’re so stubborn, bossy, intransigent, and ...”
“You’re right.”
His response surprises me.
“Could you repeat what you just said?”
Eric smiles.
“You’re right, sweetness. I’ve crossed the line. I took out on you all my anxiety about seeing you jump on that damned bike and the stuff Fernando was saying.” When he sees I’m going to say something, he interrupts me. “I don’t want to talk about that guy anymore. What’s important here is you and me.”
His smile. He’s so handsome when he smiles. “Why do we have to argue about everything?”
“I don’t know.”
“We argue about everything except sex.”
“Mmm ... That’s a good place to start, no?”
We laugh, and Eric lifts me up. He kisses my knuckles.
“You took ten years off my life today.”
“You’re exaggerating.” But I smile anyway.
Eric nods, but his face darkens and he closes his eyes.
“Jude, my sister Hannah was killed three years ago. She was like you, full of energy and vitality. One day, she invited me to go bungee jumping with her and her friends. We had a great time until her cord ... and ... I ... I couldn’t do anything to save her life.”
My heart breaks for him.
“That’s the real reason I couldn’t stick around to see what you were doing.”
“Here, before I arrived?”
“No, nothing ...”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I slept with him in Madrid but not here.” Eric curses, but I continue. “Since I’ve been here, there’ve only been a couple of kisses and ...”
“That guy is not the kind who’s satisfied with just kisses. I’ve seen how he looks at you, and when he talked about sharing the beer, God ... I could have bashed his face in!”
“I’ve never been with him the way I’ve been with you because he’s not you, goddamn it. And you know what? I’m leaving. I don’t want to hear any more BS from you. When you calm down, call me, and maybe I’ll forgive you for this.”
I turn around, grab my helmet and goggles, and—still lugging the trophy—I leave the house, start my bike, and take off. Who does Eric think he is, talking to me like that? Why is it that I demand nothing from him, but he feels he can make demands on me? When I get to the white gate, it opens so I can exit. I push the accelerator, but before I cross, I brake and scream in frustration. I get off the bike and kick the air a couple of times. I could kill Eric when he gets like this.
The white gate closes after an instant, and for a few minutes, I squat on the ground and just close my eyes. Eric exhausts me. His constant mood swings discombobulate me; I never know what he wants and, even less, how to proceed.
Suddenly, I hear a roaring sound. I lift my head and see Eric on his motorcycle coming toward me. He stops the bike, kicks the kickstand into place, and climbs off.
“How can you be so cold?” I ask.
“With practice.”
I sigh and get up off the ground.
“You exasperate me, Eric. I can’t deal with you. There are times I just want to murder you. You think you’re the king of the world! But you’re so stubborn, bossy, intransigent, and ...”
“You’re right.”
His response surprises me.
“Could you repeat what you just said?”
Eric smiles.
“You’re right, sweetness. I’ve crossed the line. I took out on you all my anxiety about seeing you jump on that damned bike and the stuff Fernando was saying.” When he sees I’m going to say something, he interrupts me. “I don’t want to talk about that guy anymore. What’s important here is you and me.”
His smile. He’s so handsome when he smiles. “Why do we have to argue about everything?”
“I don’t know.”
“We argue about everything except sex.”
“Mmm ... That’s a good place to start, no?”
We laugh, and Eric lifts me up. He kisses my knuckles.
“You took ten years off my life today.”
“You’re exaggerating.” But I smile anyway.
Eric nods, but his face darkens and he closes his eyes.
“Jude, my sister Hannah was killed three years ago. She was like you, full of energy and vitality. One day, she invited me to go bungee jumping with her and her friends. We had a great time until her cord ... and ... I ... I couldn’t do anything to save her life.”
My heart breaks for him.
“That’s the real reason I couldn’t stick around to see what you were doing.”
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