Flipping Coins

“Wow.”

Tentatively searching his face for some other reaction than the simply mused word, I stared at my maybe-ex-boyfriend with clear eyes. I was so sick of crying that there wasn’t a shot in hell I could construct any water to produce from behind my eye sockets. So, with that bearing in my racing mind, I continued to place my pupil upon every square centimeter of Jordan’s otherwise uninterested expression.

When a stretched, silent minute had passed, and my mind, heart, and stomach couldn’t bear any more, I finally unsuppressed my underlying curiosity and asked softly, “Jordan? Would you like to say anythi--anything else?”

His eyes rose from their absorption of the hotel room’s shaggy carpeted floor to focus on my surely anxious face. He breathed in a placid sigh before he gave a weak nod and leaned forward, straightening his posture for the words arranging themselves in his throat.

“Emie,” Jordan began, “I’m not going to lie. You’ve hurt me very badly, in ways I could never have imagined I could hurt in before. All I’ve ever done is be with and there for you, and in return you tell me…this. I don’t really know how I’m going to say this, but,” I winced, knowing the famous line was underway, “I think I still love you.”

My eyes doubled in size, and I restrained to keep from popping my jaw wide open in disbelief. Not only was he telling me that he basically didn’t care that I had committed the ultimate crime with another man or that he was willing to forgive and forget the fact that I may or may not be having a child that wasn’t his, but he was also proclaiming the horrific “L-word” for the first time in our relationship.

“Bu-but I lied and be-betrayed you, Jordan,” I babbled. “Doesn’t that---“

“Yes, it does hurt,” he replied steadily. “But I’ve grown too attached to you. And to downright admit it to me not even 24 hours later tells me you feel the same way about me too. Am I wrong?”

I considered this--did I love Jordan? Did I really regret what happened last night and want to move past Brendon? Had I moved on from the gangly, nerd of a teenage boy I had adapted to unconditionally loving from the beginning of our friendship? Was I no longer in love with Brendon?

“No,” my lips moved out of their own accord, answering the question in my mind rather than the one Jordan had placed in front of me.

But he took it as an answer to his own query, and a jubilant smile spread across Jordan’s face as he leaned forward to embrace me in his arms. And as he chuckled words into my ear and I struggled to not cough in his unnaturally strong Axe cologne fuming from his body, I thought one simple thing….

What the hell was I doing?

X………………X

“I’ll be back tomorrow night, and then we’ll be off, okay?” Jordan gave me one last hug and kiss before he ducked into the cab and drove off, to the Las Vegas airport.

The underbelly of my bare feet scorched hot against the baking, concreted sidewalk, and I hurriedly turned around to race back inside my cool apartment building’s lobby. The desert had absorbed the rain water in an instant, and now it was like the miracle downpour had never happened at all. One thing happens at night, and the next morning it's left forgotten and unnoticed. I hated that about this place--maybe that’s why I was moving away from it.

I discarded the ugly thought of hating my hometown and trotted up the last of the stairs leading to my floor. I opened the door and sighed when I saw the loads of cardboard boxes stacked high outside my ajar apartment door. In cliché fashion, I rolled up sleeves I didn’t actually have and stepped determinedly toward the heap of empty packages. Grabbing as many boxes as I could carry, I stepped inside my home with full hands.

While the mass of cardboard teetered in my arms, I cautiously stepped into my living-room. I was hoping against hope that my memory of the room’s furniture’s setup would help me avoid bumping into something since I couldn’t exactly see anything in front of me besides the mundane, creased brown of the boxes. You should know by now that I was probably the clumsiest human being since…well, I guess I was just the clumsiest person ever and that was that.

Just as I was about to carefully place the boxes one-by-one onto the floor in the most cautious way ever, an easily identified voice coming from somewhere before me said, “Going somewhere, Emie?”

As you’ve probably predicted, I jumped with fright. As you could easily assume, my jerk of movement sent the boxes flying into the air. And as you would most likely presume, the voice belonged to Ryan.

I waited until the harsh smack of cardboard tumbling onto the floor ceased before I took five steps forward and demanded, “How the hell did you get in here?”

A ghost of humor casted over Ryan’s usually unreadable expression as he pointed one spidery index finger to somewhere behind me. I followed its direction and saw that my apartment door was still slightly open, and I felt like an idiot for even asking.

“You should be more careful,” Ryan advised casually as he sat himself on my loveseat. “You never know in this town. Leave your door open for two minutes and come back to find that your home has been turned into a gentlemen’s club. A friend of friend of mine had it happen to his cousin once.”

“Ryan, I don’t need this right now,” I groaned, picking up one of the fallen boxes before hurrying about my apartment and stuffing things inside of it.

Ryan followed me everywhere I went. “So judging from the things I’ve heard, you more than simply found Brendon last night.”

I froze just as I was ungracefully dumping DVD’s into the box, wounding back around to gaze at Ryan with wide-eyes.

“And what little birdie told you that his time, Ry?” I questioned in a mockingly sweet tone, advancing toward him slowly but surely.

He ignored my glare and picked at his fingernails. “Oh, just a mockingbird. The little thing was doing really poor, you know. Thought I’d at least do something to help it out, so here I am--keeping watch.”

“Keeping watch?” I repeated dully, too numb to make any hostile movements or threatening remarks.

“Oh yes,” Ryan answered, peering up to meet my eyes. “I’m stationed here just in case you might return to the most obvious place to look for you. See, since you have failed to answer your phone calls or texts, we thought the best way was to scatter about Sin City and find you. Pretty much what we did last night for Brendon, except this time you’re the star of the show.”

“So all of you--all of our friends--are out looking for…me?” I asked slowly. “And you’re going to turn me into Brendon, aren’t you?”

Ryan saw that I wasn’t angry or being funny--I was damn right serious and maybe a bit upset--and the smug, comical attitude wavering about him ceased as he took his steps toward me. He took the box from my hand and set it gently on the table beside him, turning back around to look me in the eyes and place my shoulders into the care of his abnormally large hands.

“Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit,” Ryan said calmly, giving a reluctant sigh. “When I said we, I meant Brendon and me. No one else has a clue what’s going on, as far as I know.”

My stomach sunk at the thought of Trent and Jordan already knowing when Brendon had merely blabbed to Ryan, whom I probably would have told anyways as soon as I had some time on my hands. Besides, I couldn’t blame the guy. If he didn’t need to vent out on someone then that would probably be a serious sign of poor mental health.

“So you know everything?” I mumbled softly, meeting those honey brown orbs with a gentle expression gracing my features.

Ryan half-grinned. “He sparred me the gory details, but yes. I know the basics.” His face went tender again as he spoke, “Emie, I know you’re a good--great person, and you never would want to hurt a fly as long as it doesn’t land in your hair. You may not realize it, but moving out of this town to wherever your going might just be enough to kill a man. Brendon may have made some poor decisions yesterday, but he deserves a chance to explain himself without the love of his life walking out on him again.”

So I was the love of his life now? I guess sleeping with the guy twice somehow obligated me inheritance to the title.

Despite that part, I knew what Ryan was saying was right. I was just scared, and when I was scared, I split. That’s how I’ve always been, and it was a habit I couldn’t seem to break.

Earlier, I thought tears were impossible for me today, but then I felt the sleek, cool feeling of several droplets channeling down my face. They only became apparent to me when Ryan lifted his hand from my shoulder to graze his finger along my cheek, wiping away the beads in one fluent swipe.

At that moment, as he stroked my face in the most comforting gesture, I half-laughed half-sobbed, “Ryan, I might be pregnant.”

I don’t know what compelled me to say it, but I just felt like all secrets were out of the hat and why not add on another one to the brunch?

In response, Ryan did the best damn thing a man of his rare character could do: he pulled me in and hugged me.