Tempting Fate

I knew it wouldn't work, not with her. There was no obvious reason, and I think that's why I pursued her, I had to find out why. And I did all the chasing, altho she never ran, never hid, never made any effort to deny me, in fact she encouraged me.

i

The first time I saw her was at a coffee shop, something melodic and 80's was playing. I'd been reading through abstracts on the web, nursing an iced tea as an excuse to use the wi-fi. She came in and I barely looked up, catching a flash of ginger hair and a white tank.
A few moments later, she was standing outside, taking off her backpack. The movement caught my and I looked up, our eyes met and she flashed a smile. She looked so young and innocent, I decided no to acknowledge her, instead diving back into my reading.

Or rather, I tried to. She was in my peripheral vision, bright red hair, ivory shoulders and the way we were sitting, I got an eyeful of cleavage. It was tempting to step out, introduce myself. Scenarios were playing out in my head, visions of short lived passion alternating with lifelong commitment. I knew she was mine for the taking but that was undermined by the certainty that it wouldn't work.

Something rhythmic and fast came on and I became aware of the fact I wasn't making progress on my reading. I packed my laptop, slurped the last of my iced tea, tho for all the melted ice it tasted like a homeopathic remedy. Then headed out.

ii

Almost a month passed before I saw her again. In that time, I became a regular at the coffee shop, hoping she'd be there. One day, as I was preparing to head to the coffee shop, in one of those little ironies of life, the type that give believers faith and tempt the rest of us to agnosticism, she knocked on my door.

I panicked, looking through the peep hole, holding my blue jeans in my left hand, “Just a moment!” scrambling to pull my pants on.

I was zipping up my fly with my left, opening the door with my right as she knocked again. “Hello?” I said. She didn't pay me any mind, looking up at the ceiling, clearly bored.

“Hello, I'm Alex, from troop 13” said a boy with bright orange hair and a freckle of a face with the odd patch of spectral white peaking through. “We're selling tickets to our annual scout show,” he had that slightly cherubic look and voice a boy takes on just before puberty strikes.

“Tell him about the candy and the coupons, do I need to remind you everytime?”

“Oh, right. I'm also selling candy bars and there's coupons on the tickets.”

“Coupons for?” she and I asked in unison, altho her tone was leading.

“Different places around town. The subshop and the sporting goods store. A bunch of other places too.”

“Hmm, could I see one.” He handed over a ticket, a number of the coupons might actually be useful. “How much”

“Candy bars are 1.50 each or 2 for 2 dollars, and the each come with a ticket. Or you can buy just the ticket for a buck,” he said, while she stood behind him, giving the impression she'd rather be anywhere else right now.

“How about I take 2 candy bars then. Just let me grab my wallet.”

“Alright”

I grabbed my wallet off the coffee table, pulled two dollars out and handed it over. He had the candybars ready, the tickets glued to them. “Thanks!” he chimed as they turned to walk away.

I was frustrated by that she hadn't acknowledged me, while I'd been so affect by her smile, intoxicated by the fantasies it had implanted in my mind. My less rational self reminded me it couldn't be chance she knocked on my door today, moments before I was leaving, so I asked “Would you like to come in and take a break? There's cola in the fridge and icedtea or I can make some coffee.”

She turned around and smiling said “Thanks, that would be nice.”

I was excited as she made eye-contact with me, then her expression flickered, flashing to worry, then to something unreadable as she said “Actually, we better not. We've got a lot of these to sell and I have plans later. Maybe some other time.”

“uh sure,” and my ego was deflated. Then she smiled, winked and the pair of them knocked on the door across the hall, as I closed mine. A damned, lousy coincidence had brought her to me again. I stopped going to the coffee shop, but she'd planted a seed of hope and I looked for her everywhere I went.

iii

2 years later, we met again. I'd come watch a friend defend her thesis and to celebrate that while drinking away the most recent ex.

We started the evening at a small pub across from campus, the type of place that the professors and post-doc students commingled as friends and soon to be colleagues. Everyone that had attended the defense stayed through happy hour. Then the professors returned home to their families and the rest of us began a pub crawl, revisiting the best and worst nights of our time as students.

The night finished at an upstairs bar a block down from where it began, with 75 cent shots of tequila (they'd been 50 cents when I got my masters and a quarter when I first turned 21). I'd managed to pace myself fairly well, just keeping up a heavy buzz. Everyone else in our group was pretty well gone, dancing to the bootleg clips of live shows that played on the projector.

A bean and cheese burrito was delivered to our table, the waiter was gone before I could say thank you. I took a bite, it was cold and somehow greasy. I wasn't drunk enough to eat it, so it sat in front of me. I waved at my friends, none of whom payed me any mind. I couldn't take being alone in a crowded room like this, I was considering closing out my tab and taking off, when she dropped in my lap.

“I was wondering when I'd find you again.” Her hair was cropped short and dyed purple, I didn't recognize her and she was clearly drunk. “Don't you recognize me?”

“Nope,” I replied bashfully and with a uncomfortably sober feeling descending on me. “Should I?”

“Oh, come on, it's only been a few months.” She kissed me after that, then looked me in the eyes and in embarrassment said “Oh, it's not you. But that's a good thing, it's never good to hook up with exes, sends the wrong message. Besides, he wasn't that good and...” she indicated size with her index finger and thumb, then giggled.

“Well no wonder,” I smirked.

“So, whose lap am I sitting in then?”

“Mine,” I said in a wry tone that surprised myself.

“uh-huh and who are you?”

“Ben.”

“Oh, that's good, I haven't had a Ben yet. And I'm Alicia, that's what my parent's call me anyway. I've been trying out new names, trying to find something not so... girly-girl.”

“So, what should I call you then?”

“Oh, good boy! Thank you for asking, but before I tell you, what name do you think fits me?”

“It's hard to say, we've only just met.”

“But first impression.”

“Well, not Alicia, I wouldn't pick that for you even if not knowing it was your name and you didn't like it. Something with a J sound, maybe Jules?” she smiled wide at that.

“One of my favorite authors, let's try that and see if it sticks. Nothing else has, friends and family are so stuck in their ways. I might have to move to get something new to stick. I want to anyway.” Then the burrito drew her attention and she looked me in the eyes, “Do you mind?”

“No, go for it,” I shuffled out from under her, to the inside of the booth as she ravenously ate the burrito. There was something endearing about seeing a girl eat uninhibitedly.

She managed to down about half of it, then leaned back, “I was starving, thanks. What do you want, I'm buying.” I asked for a red ale, she came back a few moments later with the beer and a tray full of shots. I only remember flashes of the evening from there.

The next morning, woke up happy without knowing why. I opened my eyes trying to figure out where I was, eventually surmising I was in my hotel room. Movement caught my attention, then I recognized her; she was getting dressed and I caught a glimpse of ginger below.

“Hey,” I said.

“Good morning,” she was cheery. “”My brother Alex is on the way.”

“You don't want to get breakfast?”

“No. For one, it's almost time for lunch, you probably should get dressed and checked out. And I don't need another ex. Better to leave this here.” She threw my clothes at me.

I pulled my wallet out, handing her a card “my contact info, if you change your mind or need a friend in Portland, just call.”

“Thanks Ben,” she kissed me on the forehead and left.

iv

Not even a month later I got a text:
  It's Jules, remember me? I can't take it here anymore, can
  I borrow your couch while I look for a place up there.

The next weekend, she was sleeping on my couch, her stuff filled up dining room blocked off access to my washer & dryer. She took a job as a barrista. From there, everything was just sort of easy. Her stuff found it's place with mine and after a few drunken mistakes, she started sleeping in my bed, instead of the couch.

It felt right. Unlike anything that came before it, mellow and real, built on trust and mutual understanding instead of fleeting lust and the naïve belief that love can overcome a thousand points of disagreement and conflict.

And then it ended abruptly almost 2 years in, on valentine's day.

“I've been cheating on you?” she said as I walked through the door. I set the red roses on the counter and sat next to her on the couch.

“What?! With whom?”

“Kelly, at work. The entire time I've been living here, I was fucking her. Look, neither of us are happy, there's no point in keeping it up.”

“Okay, what makes you think I'm unhappy.”

"We never fight and you never called me on it. Right now, you should be pissed, or begging for a threesome, or something. But, you're not. You're not affected by me, you're not anything.”

“I love you and I trust you.”

“I'd like to believe that, but you don't act like it. I thought maybe you were naïve, then maybe you were stupid. But, you're just you. I'm not happy with you and you're not happy. I've already moved my stuff and that's it.” With that she stood, added “sometimes it takes conflict” and walked out.

I thought about chasing after her, emotions and counterarguments forming then that still haunt me on sleepless nights. Instead, I slipped back into solipsism and misery, because that's what I was without her. She never knew that, never could know it and having realized that, I sat on the couch and cried altho if she read this, she'd never believe it.