Almost Easy

Brian was quiet on the drive back to my apartment. He didn’t even let the stereo fill the void; he was very clearly trying to make a point to me and it was received loud and clear, even in my drunken state.
“Are you angry?” I asked to break the tension.
Brian grunted, “Nope.”
“You seem kind of angry,” I tried lightly.
He looked at me quickly and then back to the road.
“You know, I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said flatly.
“I know,” he murmured.
I was hardly the type to give or receive the silent treatment. I was far too aggressive for that kind of nonsense. By my logic, there was no point in extending a fight—why not just talk about it, or fight about it, and get it over with? How do you get passed something if you don’t verbalize it?
Tyler loved the silent treatment. Maybe that’s why I hated it so much.
However, in my drunken state--and still in shock from the whole Jimmy situation--I was struggling to find the words to express what was going on in my stupid head.
“You know I don’t like Jimmy that way, right?” I squinted at him, trying to read his face. “Just seems like I need to remind you that I didn’t kiss him.”
“You sure?” Brian asked. “Sometimes with Jimmy it’s hard to tell. He operates on a totally different level—I can’t always tell if it’s him being friendly or him being friendly.”
“That sounds like a problem between the two of you,” I noted. “I have nothing to do with that. But, from where I stand, we’re friends. Nothing more.”
Brian looked at me again, this time more softly. I tried to look sober.
“I’m being a dick,” he sighed finally. “You’re right, it isn’t your problem.”
“I’m sorry that it happened,” I pouted. “That really wasn’t my goal for tonight—you know, to stir up drama.”
“It’s fine,” Brian said. “I’ll punch him in the lip about it later.”
I couldn’t help but laugh; this seemed to relax Brian’s tensed shoulders.
“So,” I cooed, twirling at my dark hair with my tingling fingers, “You called me your girlfriend.”
Brian smirked, throwing me a quick glance, “Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I mused thoughtfully. “Didn’t think that had been established.”
Brian laughed, “What are we, sixteen? I need to ask you to go steady, or what? Are we in the 1950’s?”
I chuckled, “Maybe. But then I need your letterman jacket or no deal.”
“Do I look like a fucking athlete to you?” Brian snickered.
Eying him over, eyebrows raised, I said, “Yes.”
“Get out of here,” Brian smiled. “I just thought…you know, we’ve been hanging out…we talk all the time…”
I nodded as he talked. He seemed oddly defensive—it dawned on me that it might have been a slip on his part to refer to me with an actual title. But maybe he was right, maybe I was dumb for not realizing what we were. There was, in all seriousness, no real reason to actually discuss it.
I’d never been good at the whole adult thing.
“We fucked on our first date,” he laughed awkwardly. “Actually, that kind of was the whole date. This all spelled out relationship to me.”
He looked over to me again before turning onto my street. I wasn’t sure what to say, my mind was dampened by the alcohol so I needed some extra time to digest. I still felt like I was missing something.
He pulled over and switched off the ignition. We fell back into the California night’s silence.
“Look,” he sighed, turning his body to better face me, “I know you said we should keep it casual because of the tour.”
“Because I’m leaving for four months,” I corrected.
He nodded, “Right, and I said to see where it goes.”
“Yeah,” I replied, still thinking.
It wasn’t like the prospect of a relationship bothered me. I really wasn’t sure what my problem was. Maybe it was guilt—maybe I didn’t feel right moving into something so soon after Tyler chose to end his life. Maybe I figured it was dismissing the whole thing…and dismissing it too quickly.
But I really liked Brian. The sound of his voice soothed all of my pain. He made the weight of the grief almost bearable. And he wanted to commit—he didn’t want to fuck me over like Tyler had suggested he would.
“I won’t call you that again if it isn’t what you want,” Brian shrugged. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said it at all.”
I bit at my lip, “That’s not really what I’m getting at.”
“Then what are you getting at, Blair?” he quipped.
He was obviously becoming frustrated with me—or feeling rejected. Either way, it wasn’t good. And it was my fault.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I blurted out before I even knew what I was saying.
He looked at me with a funny look.
“Why would you lose me?” he half-laughed. “How drunk are you?”
“Probably too drunk to be having this conversation,” I grinned. “But for the sake of honesty, I’m just sort of afraid of you. It’s like what I said on the beach, what if I really fall for you—and then I have to leave?”
Brian moved a tiny inch closer to me, “Is that not sort of already an issue?”
I didn’t want to answer him. Of course it was.
“It is for me,” he said, his voice nervous and shaky. “I think we’re past that hypothetical situation.”
I nodded.
“I understand what your life is going to be like,” he continued, his eyes reassuring mine, “I get it. I live it, too. But I’m a big boy and I can handle some distance—it isn’t like I can’t come out and catch a show or two.”
“Fair,” I sighed.
“What I would hate is for you to go off on tour and meet some fucking roady or something,” he smirked. “If you come back madly in love with someone that isn’t me, I’m going to be pissed.”
I smiled, “I would also be pissed—if you…you know what I’m saying.”
I was too drunk for this conversation.
“Do you want this or not?” Brian said then, his face now inches from mine.
He had an unfair advantage—he knew I couldn’t resist him.
“We can be friends if that’s all you want this to be,” he assured me. “But I want you.”
I bit at my lip harder, taking a big breath.
He had a valid point. If I left, there was no reason for him not to find company with somebody else—though, even with a ‘relationship’, I supposed he still could. I wasn’t sure he was the type to do that, though. But I’d been wrong about people before.
Beyond that, he was willing to fight for me. If roles were reversed, I would have given up out of pure humiliation and high-tailed it with my tail ducked between my legs. Instead, he was willing to talk it out—he was willing to listen to my crazy reasons not to date.
What was wrong with me?
“Please don’t fuck me over,” I said then, the alcohol persuading my words. “I can’t take any more shit in my life.”
He pressed his lips to mine for only a second, pulling away with a look of…sorrow. That wasn’t necessarily the look that I hoped to inspire from men.
“I won’t if you won’t,” he smirked.
I studied him for a second, trying to pick out even a shred of insincerity.
“Are you coming in?” I asked then, pulling apart the space between us.
He shifted his weight, trying to figure out how my brain worked.
“That’s what boyfriends do, isn’t it?” I smirked, tugging at the collar of his leather jacket.
He laughed and nodded.
We made our way up to my apartment to begin the first relationship I’d had in five years. While I still wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea to start up a relationship so soon before I was departing, if I was going to date anybody ever, it made the most sense to have it be Brian. After all, he inspired something deep inside of me that I’d never experienced before. No man had ever had me so wrapped up in them that I couldn’t shake them from my thoughts.
No man but Brian.

Notes

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