The Way We Talk

I always thought that having a Valentine would be different.

I dated a bit in middle school and high school - not a lot, but enough to say that I did. The only boyfriend I had on a Valentine's Day was Dave, and we'd agreed to skip the holiday altogether. I hate buying gifts and he's perpetually broke, so we decided that the whole thing just wasn't worth all the hassle.

Chris is goofy and talkative and gorgeous and not a cheapskate. He's easily the best guy I've ever dated, even if I'm only going on dates with him.

But he's off tonight. He's uncharacteristically quiet during dinner, and when he holds my hand during the movie, I can tell his heart isn't in it.

His head is somewhere far away, and I can't figure out what's wrong.

He drops me off at the entrance to Potomac, as usual. I lean in to kiss him goodbye, and he leans away with the same apologetic look that he's had on all night.

"Erica, you're awesome, really, but I'm not sure this is really working out for me," he says, messing up then fixing his straightened hair before sticking his hands in his pockets, "This entire day I've been rehashing memories of when I was with Deeanna, and that's not fair to you. You deserve a lot more than some guy who still hasn't gotten over the girl he broke up with months ago."

I'm stuck between saying that I saw this coming and that I didn't. I knew that "The Ex" being back in the picture would cause problems, but not make this over.

Deeanna and Chris are still on bad terms; that much hasn't changed. But until the party, he hadn't had to think much about her. As much as what she did to him hurt him, it's pretty obvious that Chris still loves her on some level, and he's not going to let go of that easily.

I shrug, staring at my feet somewhat embarrassed. "We gave it a shot."

"Yeah," he responds, squeezing my shoulder. I turn my head and sigh, shrugging again. "I feel like such a shit dumping you on Valentine's Day, but you deserve an explanation for why I've been somewhere else all of today."

I nod. It surprises me that this hurts. It's just a dull throb in my chest, but painful nonetheless. I paste the best fake smile on my face and ask, "Does that mean that we need to break up on Facebook?"

He chuckles at my sad attempt to lighten the mood, shaking his head. "Nope. You're going to be my Facebook wife; I just need to plan the wedding first."

"Deal," I say, then he pecks me on the forehead goodbye.

Once he's out of earshot, I hit four on my phone. A voice answers on the first ring. "Hey, I'm a...a little busy. Call back later?" I hear someone in the background yell about "NOT answering the phone in the middle of sex".

I would manage to call Christian in the middle of him fucking his girlfriend. I hang up an scroll through my contacts until I find one that seems perfect and hit call.

---

"I must say, Saunders, you have shit for luck today," Jay says, opening the door to his apartment and throwing the key on the counter, "First dealing with Chris o'Dickus then a little bit of Maria and Christian Interruptus."

I laugh a little at that, dabbing under my eyes. Somewhere between Potomac and Farragut West Metro Stop, I burst into tears, and I bawled my brains out on the ride to Tenleytown/AU. Jay met me there, look of concern evident on his features. It was actually surprising; we barely know each other (our only long conversation being the drunken incident at Christian's party), but he literally dropped whatever plans he had for tonight to keep me company.

He opens up the freezer and pulls out a carton of ice cream. He removes the plastic wrapping and offers it to me, asking, "You like Rocky Road, right?" I nod and he hands me a spoon.

"Thank you so much, Jay," I respond, digging in. The smooth chocolate ice cream melts on my tongue and I sigh. Why does this stuff always taste so fucking good when you're depressed?

Jay shrugs, digging his own spoon into the ice cream and popping it into his mouth. He hops up to sit on the counter. "No problem. One member of this band has to be not a dick today."

"Neither Chris nor Christian are dicks," I snort, joining him on top of the counter.

Jay raises an eyebrow at me. "You're going to defend the guy that dumped you on Valentine's Day and the guy who is supposed to be your best friend but is spending this time boning the girl who would kill you the second murder became legal?"

"Well, Chris and I were technically never together."

"It was implied to all hell," Jay inserts quickly, "He gave you his TKE sweatshirt. In frat boy, that means girlfriend."

I ignore his claim and continue after the interruption, "And it's Valentine's Day, which means Christian's going to get laid pretty hard. After all, if you date someone with that shitty of a personality, you better be getting some."

Jay sniggers. "You know, in all of your attempts to seem like you're so cool about Christian and Maria, you end up sounding pretty fucking bitter."

I take this opportunity to shove a large spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, much like a human trash compactor. Attractive. "Am I really that transparent?"

He shrugs. "You certainly fool Christian, but he's rather naive in that respect."

"You know," I note, gesturing with my spoon, "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Jay doesn't say anything to that, simply licking his spoon clean. "So, not trying to be an inconsiderate dick, but I'm curious to know what happened with Kamrada."

I shrug, putting the ice cream on the counter. I lace my fingers together, then sigh, letting them go. "He was weird all night. Like he wasn't all there or something. Quiet at as hell."

"That doesn't sound like Chris at all."

"It's how I knew something was up," I continue, looking at Jay, who then thorws an arm around my shoulders. He gives me a warm squeeze. "Thought maybe he was just nervous about making it official or something. After all, it was Valentine's Day and so many girls have high expectations and shit. But then he doesn't let me kiss him goodbye and talks about how all he thought about tonight was Dee."

I feel the tears gather in the corner of my eyes and I blink them back. I'm not going to cry again. Why am I so upset about this?

"I probably should have expected that, I'm sorry," Jay responds with a chuckle, wiping away a tear with his thumb, "Deeanna Moore's the only girl that has made Chris cry in his entire life, barring his Ma. But after Deeanna told him, he locked himself up in his room for a week an refused to talk to anyone. It was scary."

If that was supposed to help, it didn't. The tears start falling faster. God, I'm such a bitch. I've all but completely ignored that this girl - my friend - broke his heart into a lot of little pieces, and I expect that everything just gunna work out.

"Aw, Erica, it's okay. It's okay. Honestly, none of this is your fault. You're the first girl he's dated post-Deeanna. And we all thought it was going to work out. But at the end of the day, Kamrada's gunna puss out beause he doesn't want to trust women like that for awhile."

Jay squeezes my hand then puts the ice cream back into the freezer. He then tugs on my hand and leads to me to his couch. He sits down, then motions for me to lie down and rest with my head on his lap. "Come on, Erica," he begs upon seeing my skeptical expression, "It's what my Momma used to do for me when I was sad."

"You're twenty-three-years-old and you still call her Momma?" I snort, but oblige him all the same.

"Don't hate, Ric," he responds, playing with my messy ponytail, "You have such pretty hair."

I open my mouth to thank him, but am cut off by his ringtone. He grins widely, then apologizes quickly before answering the call. "Hey, baby. How's your party?" I grin; I almost forgot that Jay has a girlfriend. Not because I desperately want him or something, but because she's a first year grad student at UCF. "Yeah, I'm with a friend Erica right now, and I'm just having a lazy night in with her. She's pretty upset...Babe, go back to your party. Seriously. But thanks for calling. I miss you so much...I love you too. And I'm definitely counting the days...Bye."

I beam up at him as he hangs up. "Tell me about Clarke."

"Where do I start with Clarke McWilliams?" He chuckles, grinning stupidly, "She's literally been my best friend since pre-school. So, like, almost twenty years. Like, we'd always swap sandwiches and she'd always give me her pudding cup because her mom always forgot that she's the kid who doesn't like chocolate. She has like seven brothers and sisters; their house is like a jungle. But it feels more like my home than my own house. I asked her to Winter Formal junior year of high school and we've been together ever since. So, just over six years now."

I shake my head. "That's insane. She's the one, isn't she?"

Jay nods, running a hand through his cropped dark hair. "Yeah. It's like, I know I'm in college. I should want to be this raging bachelor, right? But I don't." He chuckles to himself before asking me, "Erica, can you keep a secret?"

I nod, and he gestures me to lift my head so that he can get up. He disappears into his bedroom, only to reappear two minutes later. His hand emerges from behind his back, and he hands me a tiny box. I gasp as I open it. The ring is a small, solitary diamond, set in what I assume is white gold. It shimmers as I tilt it back and forth, then grin widely at Jay. "It's perfect. Do the guys know?"

"Yeah, and I have the bruises to prove it." My expression is obviously puzzled, as Jay elaborates, "Three congratulations slaps all at the same time. Chris doesn't hurt, but Maika's trained in martial arts and Christian's the muscle of us."

"When are you going to ask her?" I ask as my eye catches on a picture frame. A beautiful dark-skinned girl is behind Jay, resting her head on top of his, her arms draped over his shoulders. They're beaming in the way that there is no doubt in my mind that she's Clarke. I grab the frame and gesture with it, and Jay nods.

"Cancun," he responds, taking the picture and beaming back at it, "Like, I have no effing clue how I'm going to do it. But I've got a month to get a plan down, right?"

I lean my head on Jay's shoulder. "Yeah, and when you've got it figured out, I can be your dummy."

He thanks me, pecking my forehead, and we start brainstorming ideas.