Undream the Echoes

Elle
06.20.1998

Liam and I have been seeing each other for about two weeks now. After our second date in his planes, I can’t get enough of him. I feel like it’s time to turn the tables and it’s my turn to take him out. Friday rolls along, as well as our reservation to my favorite restaurant in Harvard Square that I had booked earlier in the week. But accompanying the presence of Friday is a nasty case of the flu.

“I can’t come,” I sniffle into the phone, only two hours before our he’s supposed to pick me up.

“What?” Liam asks. “Who is this?”

Oh. Maybe I should have started the conversation with, Hey, it’s Elle instead of that.

“Is that you, Elle? Holy shit you sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you all right?” I can hear the concern etched in his words and it makes me feel a little better.

“Yeah. I mean, no. I’m sick. I can’t get out of bed and everything I eat end up in the toilet in the form of puke. Oh, sorry, you probably didn’t want to know that. Long story short, I’m going to need to cancel on you tonight. Sorry.”

My only response is silence on the other end of the phone. “This isn’t some diabolical plan to dump me, is it?” Liam finally asks hesitantly. “If you don’t want to go out with me you don’t need to pretend you’re sick, you know. I knew it was too good to be true, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you got bored with me, but really, I mean, treat a guy with respect…”

It takes me a minute to realize he’s being serious and I burst out laughing. But then I realize I’m probably majorly wounding Liam’s ego so I quickly stop. “No, I’m not faking it,” I say earnestly. “Unfortunately I really am sick. And unfortunately I really did want to see you tonight.”

“Why is that unfortunate?” I can hear the coyness in his words.

“Because…” I begin and hesitate. Usually I’m not open with my feelings – at all. I’ve been the type of person who enjoys bottling everything up inside so I can act all tough and heartless. But so far I have learned that Liam is an excruciatingly honest person and he is never afraid to share his feelings with me. At first I found it cheesy and sort of a turn off, because I’ve always been into the courageous badass guys, but then I realized that Liam’s honesty with himself and others takes a lot more courage than I could ever wish to have. As soon as this realization dawned on me, I’ve been pretty much head over heels in adoration for Liam. He’s so different than all the other guys that I’ve liked before. I think I’ve always been attracting the wrong type of guy. And finally, finally I’ve attracted the right type. It’s an exciting thought, because I have no idea how this relationship is going to shape out this time, and because I have a feeling this won’t end the way my typical relationship ends (with me being dumped after a few months). It’s a scary thought, too, but I’m too happy that this is happening to me to be frightened.

“Because?” Liam asks after a moment of silence on my part, jolting me back to reality.

“Because I’ve never liked a guy as much as I’ve liked you before,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “Because I get really nervous and I don’t know say to you most of the time and I end up sounding like an idiot. Because most of the time I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you. I used to be so shallow when it comes to guys and now I’m…not. It’s not okay. And now that we’re not going out tonight I’m genuinely disappointed.” I take a deep breath. “Yeah. Um…yeah.”

“Hm,” Liam says after a minute and it’s impossible to read the emotion in his voice. “That is really unfortunate.”

My heart begins to pound, and not in a good way. “What does that mean – ”

“I’ll see you in a little bit, Elle.”

Now I’m frustrated. “I’m not faking, Liam! I was serious, I won’t be able to go out tonight – ”

But he has already hung up.

I slam the phone down on its receiver and cross my arms angrily. Stupid Liam. If he thinks I’m going out to dinner while I’m still on the verge of vomiting all over the place, he’s wrong. There’s no way in hell I’m getting out of this bed and getting dressed.

So I just sit there, watching ER and waiting patiently for Liam’s phone call asking, Where are you? I’m so excited to tell him off and inform him that I really am ill. I’ll admit I have a sick pleasure in making people feel bad.

Then the doorbell rings.

I have a feeling I know who it is already because suddenly I’ve gotten that weird feeling in my stomach that I always get when Liam’s around. Nevertheless, I’m still surprised when I open the door and see him standing there.

“What are you doing here, Liam?” I ask as he lingers in my doorway. He looks up at my from beneath his dark curls and I can see his amber eyes glinting with mischief.

“So you’re not faking it, then,” he says and walks inside, ignoring the fact that I haven’t invited him in yet.

“Obviously,” I say. I have to admit I’m glad to see him but I’m not going to act very happy since he did sort of show up uninvited. “I doubt I look any better than when we first met in the grocery store.”

He looks me up and down, not bothering to be discreet. “You look a little better,” he says with a smirk. “But only a little.”

I scoff. I’m currently wearing my most tattered pair of sweats, my hair is uncombed, and I haven’t bothered to put on any makeup. Like hell I look a little better.

“You have a nice place,” he adds, looking around my small two room apartment, and it’s then I realize that this is the first time he’s ever been to my apartment. “It reminds me of your café.” Which is true. I have decorated the place similarly to the way I have decorated the coffee shop, with antique furnishing and delicate trinkets. Only my apartment is different than my café because I don’t need to worry about keeping things clean and organized all the time to please the customers, thus making my apartment more cozy and welcoming.

The walls are painted dark colors but I lighten the room with lace and small pretty things and weird things, like dream catchers and lost-and-found jewelry dangling from hooks. What can I say, I’m a collector of forgotten things and freaky things and stupid things. It’s all thrown together randomly with the decorations carelessly woven together on my walls. But it fits. I just like the way it looks, the way everything seems old but still enticing. I’ve always loved vintage: its eternal beauty has always left me mystified, and have always left me wondering how humans can be mortal and yet the things we create can be immortal.

“Yeah,” I agree shortly.

“It’s a good thing,” he says.

“I know. Thanks.”

And then an uncomfortable silence fills the room. Although I’ve gotten past my initial stubbornness and finally admitted to liking Liam, and although it’s obvious he likes me too, we’re still somehow in the excruciatingly awkward stage. I know why it’s this way: we haven’t kissed yet.

I thought it was going to happen on our second date – since it was so freaking awesome and I was in such a good mood and so was he – but I don’t know, it just didn’t happen. After taking a ride in his plane we went out to breakfast for three hours. We literally talked the entire time. I filled him about my life and he did the same. We talked about our favorite pastimes, our jobs, our craziest stories from college, anything, everything. But we didn’t kiss.

I am afraid that it will never happen. Liam and I click so well that I am starting to think that maybe we are just meant to be best friends. I mean, we have been seeing each other for almost two weeks now but we are perfectly comfortable when we speak to one another – on the phone, at least. But it is when we were physically together, like on a date or out even just standing next to each other, when our hormones are raging and it’s obvious he wants me and I want him (in a sense that isn’t exactly innocent), well, that’s when things get uncomfortable.

It bothers me that we can spend an entire night talking on the phone but when it comes to anything…ahem, sexual, we will both freeze and change the subject immediately. It is as if we are afraid of the thought of having sex with one another. As if it is taboo. And that’s how it is for two friends, not two people who are dating. Just the thought gives me chills. SEX. Ugh. No. It just isn’t right.

Maybe the reason for this is because I like Liam too much. I am afraid to do anything with him because I don’t want to mess it up. And this freaks me out because I have never been the sort of person to take things slow. Liam has really fucked me up.

Suddenly I notice Liam has a brown paper bag in his hands and I’m grateful to break the silence. “Um, what’s that?” I lamely ask and nod towards the bag.

“Oh,” Liam says and looks down. He smiles, also clearly happy that we’ve found some random topic to have a conversation about. We both hate it when we’re quiet around each other. It’s as if the silence is proof that we have nothing in common and we’re just not meant to be. “I brought you something.”

He puts the bag on the counter and pulls out several things: a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Phood and a pint of New York Super Fudge Chunk; DVDs of Jurassic Park, Titanic, and Flubber; two bags of microwavable popcorn; a can of unopened chicken soup; and boxed chocolates. I eye Liam critically.

“Are you trying to get me fat?” I accuse.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “I’m trying to cheer you up. Lots of unhealthy food and good movies have always made me get better. And if I remember correctly, Phish Phood is your favorite flavor of ice cream.”

“How can you possibly remember such small details about me?” I ask, feeling rather flattered.

“Because you said it was your favorite because of the band it was named after, not because of the taste. After you said that I decided that you were officially an extremely weird person. So of course I remembered that. But Phish is a great band so I have to respect your choice,” he replies smoothly and hands me the ice cream. I assume the New York Super Fudge Chunk is his, considering he loves chocolate almost as much as he loves flying. “The movies are for us to watch, and the popcorn is to help us watch them,” he continues to explain. “And the boxed chocolates are for you to eat after I leave so that you can remember me with each bite.” He smirks. He pulls open a random drawer in the kitchen and hands me a spoon. “For the ice cream,” he says.

“How did you know where I keep my spoons you freak?”

“I’m secretly a psychic.”

“Riiight,” I say slowly and make my way over to him. “So let me get this straight,” I say, stepping very close to him. I can hear his breath catch and I’m pleased. I figure if I put him under stress I can force the truth out of him. I mean, come on, what sort of a guy gets all of these things just to make a girl feel better? Not the sort of guys I used to date, that’s for sure. “You brought me ice cream, popcorn, chocolate, and all of these movies with the intention of making me feel better?” He nods. “And you’re going to watch them all with me?” He nods again.

“I was initially going to force you out of the house to go on the date with me,” he concedes, “but when I realized that maybe you weren’t faking sick, I figured that maybe I should bring this bag just in case. And I’m glad I did it. Because now this can be our date. Now, which one do you want to watch first?” he asks, holding up the movies and waving them around.

I eye the movie selection. Jurassic Park is great, but I’ve seen it hundreds of times. Titanic is great too but it's just overrated now. “Flubber,” I reply.

“Really?” he asks and makes a face. It is obvious he was leaning towards one of the other two.

“What? You’re the one who brought it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the only upbeat movie I own and I figured I should bring it. Even though it's meant for six year olds.”

“Well why do you own it in the first place?” I counter.

“That’s highly classified,” he retorts.

“Fine,” I snort. “I still want to watch it though.”

“All right, fine,” he sighs. “We’ll watch it. Where’s your DVD player?”

“Not so fast,” I stop him before he can flee the kitchen. I give him a skeptical look. “Are you really doing all of this? You’re actually going to spend your Friday night hanging out with a sick girl who can very possibly throw up all over you at any time?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” he shrugs. “I wasn’t going to spend this Friday without you.” He makes it sound like doing this was the natural thing to do, as if not being with me was simply not an option.

“And let me guess, you’re doing this out of charity,” I say slyly. “I bet you’re not expecting anything in return.”

“What do you – oh. Ha ha. No. Honestly, Elle, you’ve got to stop thinking that my head is in the gutter all of the time. It’s only most of the time.”

Suddenly I feel embarrassed for assuming something like that. But then the fact hits me that Liam is honestly doing all of this just for me, and I huge smile erupts across my face. “Well,” I say softly and take one step closer to him. “Thank you, then. That’s really kind of you.” And without even thinking about it, I get on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his.

I feel him freeze and I freeze too. And then I realize what I’m doing: I’m kissing him. I pull away quickly. How did that happen? I was expecting our first kiss to be dramatic and romantic and way over-the-top. With all of the tension between us, I would assume it would be so much more difficult to initiate something like that. But I didn’t even think about it. I forgot about the awkwardness and I just went ahead and did it, as if we had been doing this thing since forever ago, and as if we would be doing this for the rest of our lives.

“Sorry – ” I mutter quickly but I am interrupted by Liam crashing his lips against mine. This time it is dramatic. And this time it isn’t so soft. He pushes me against the counter and suddenly my hands are in his hair and his hands are on my neck, on my back, on my thigh, everywhere. We can’t breathe and we keep on having to gasp for air but we keep going. The ice cream is knocked to the floor and it’s melting a little bit on the tiles but I don’t care. I’m sitting on the counter now with my legs wrapped around his waist and he’s still kissing me, moving from my lips to my jaw to my neck and then back to my lips. And then we finally pull away, both panting, and stare at each other for a long minute. I know what we’re both thinking. It’s a mix of Holy shit, that just happened and Let’s do it again.

“Apology accepted,” Liam breathes and I let out a burst of laughter.

But then suddenly I stop and turn serious. “Oh fuck,” I say.

“What?” He looks crestfallen. Obviously saying ‘oh fuck’ after something like that is not exactly what he had wanted to hear.

“I just…” I respond, “I just realized you’re going to get sick too now. That was really stupid of me.”

And then he laughs. He sounds relieved. “Nah,” he smirks and kisses me again and I let out a really embarrassing squeak. “It just means we don’t have to worry about sharing germs anymore and now we can do it whenever we want.” And he kisses me again and again and I know I will never be able to get enough.