Clueless

"Heaven has mercifully decreed that the secrets of all hearts are hidden so that we are lured on for ever to suspect something, perhaps, that does not exist." Orlando, Virginia Woolf

Friday, October 17, 2014

"I propose a toast," Erik Johnson crowed, holding up his half-full Rum and Coke and gesturing towards Ryan, who was lounging on one of the gilt couches in 24K Denver, where the team was celebrating a win over their rivals, the Detroit Red Wings. "To our captain, for leading us to victory against those old fogeys from Motor City." Ryan had scored the game winner with twenty seconds left in the third, a beautiful backhander over Jimmy Howard's glove.

He thought about his goal, now. How he had swung around behind the Detroit net, his eyes running over the crowd, his stick raised halfway in the air in triumph, thrilling to the looks of joy on the faces of the fans. His teammates had crushed him against the boards to celebrate, the plexiglass at his back vibrating as the roaring crowd beat their hands against it. And through all of the mayhem, the rush of adrenaline and the heady thrill of success, Ryan could think of only one person.

As his linemates beelined it back to the bench to bump gloves with the rest of the team, Ryan had taken the long way back, by way of center ice. His gaze ran up the stands until he found the one face whose approval he craved above all others.

And there she had been, she and Serena standing together, mouths half-open as they cheered with the rowdy crowd surrounding them. Lily looked happy, really happy, which comforted him. He had paused, waiting for her to meet his eyes, and when she did, he had pointed one of his gloved hands right at her, so that she would know exactly who the goal had been meant for.

All he had wanted to do that night was make her smile--getting the game-winner was just bonus. He had been worried about Lily ever since their troubling conversation (or lack of conversation, as it were) the day before. He could still feel the spot of heat against his chest, where she had laid her head over his heart. She had stayed in his arms for a long time, not speaking, not crying, just seeking silent comfort. The persistent, creeping cold of the rink finally seeped through her layers, though, leaving her shivering, and that's when he had gently suggested that they go home.

They hadn't mentioned what had happened, since.

He had tried, of course, both on the ride home and as they had eaten dinner, but each time a question had made its stuttering way from his lips, Lily had reached out for his free hand and quietly begged, "Please."

He didn't like to push people, unless he felt it was absolutely necessary--it was just his nature. But that didn't mean he didn't worry about them. He slept fitfully that night, plagued by nightmares of trekking through a dark underground, uncertain of his path, his only guide a ghostly, wailing cry that led him into deeper darkness. He would wake in a cold sweat, his ear catching the faintest notes of classical music that drifted to him from down the hall, a sign that he was not the only sleepless occupant in the house. That morning, when he had stumbled down the steps, on the way out the door to the morning skate, Lily had passed him on the stairs, her eyes glazed over, bags underneath her eyes. She had smiled at him wearily, told him that she'd see him later, and then continued up the stairs, a steaming cup of tea in one hand. When he had returned, the house was wrapped in a sleepy silence, Lily's bedroom door closed. He didn't see her before he left for the game, which was unusual, but as he sat in the empty bench area at the Pepsi Center, taping his sticks, she had texted him a good luck message, at which point he resolved that the least he could do was make her smile. And so he had.

"It was a good team win," he insisted, holding up his pint of beer, nevertheless.

"Oh, come on, Factor! You're not in front of the cameras, anymore! You're allowed to take all the credit!" Gabriel chided from beside him, laughing.

"If we didn't have Varly backstopping us--"

"Oh, just shut up and drink!"

"To Factor!" The guys gathered around the gold-plated table brought their glasses together with a slosh and a crash and then each took a large swig of their drink before bursting into raucous laughter, once more.

Ryan tucked himself back into the corner of the couch, content to just watch the crazy revelry, instead of participating, as he usually did. The team had decided to have a guy's night out, a relatively rare thing, so all the wives and girlfriends--and Lily--had decided to go out to dinner together, instead. Ryan couldn't help his thoughts drifting to their gathering, rather than his--he couldn't quell the troubling questions surrounding Lily that remained from the day before, but he also worried about how she would fare among the WAGs. She had Serena there, he knew, but he wasn't sure how well that would buffer her from the strange place of limbo that, knowingly or unknowingly, she had fallen into. On the one hand, she possessed a very friendly rapport with the members of the team, but on the other, she had not (yet) earned herself a legitimate position next to the girlfriends and wives. Serena, at least, could claim that. Ryan worried about her feeling isolated, especially after their conversa--

"Yoohoo!" Gabriel waved a hand in front of his face, breaking his train of thought. "I know you're just zoning out, but that girl across the room thinks you're checking her out, so unless you're interested in making a new friend, I'd pay attention." Ryan's sight refocused on the room and who he had been unintentionally staring at, revealing a full-figured, lithe blonde in a curve-hugging, gold dress with a knowing smirk on her scarlet lips. At least she's hot. "I mean, unless you suddenly have a thing for blondes, then go for it," Gabriel added. Ryan dropped his eyes, then, and took a long swill of beer. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he snickered. He nudged Ryan in the side. "So, how're things with you guys, anyway?" There was an obvious, unspoken understanding that he meant Lily.

"Complicated."

"When has it not been complicated?"

"You're one to talk."

Gabriel shoved him roughly, making him spill some of his beer in his lap. "Shut up. At least I always knew where I stood with her."

Ryan gave his friend a skeptical look. "That's highly debatable."

Before Gabriel could argue his point any further, Shane O'Brien stalked over to the pair, a devilish smile lighting up his face. "O Captain, my dear Captain," he began, flopping down onto the couch beside Ryan and throwing an arm around his shoulders, "I have a proposition for you."

Ryan raised an eyebrow at him. Shane was notorious for his 'propositions'.They usually involved one or all of three things: alcohol, women, and embarrassing situations. Ryan had, so far, been able to steer well clear of some of Shane's worst dares, but once Shane had set his sights on someone, he was like a dog with a bone. Tonight, Ryan was clearly that bone. He set his drink down on the table and braced himself. "What did you have in mind?" He asked cautiously.

"Don't sound so nervous, Factor! I was just thinking we might have a friendly bet!"

"How many drinks have you had? Are you sure you've got enough money for this bet?"

"Who said the bet was about money?" This wasn't going to be good and Ryan knew it. "So, do you accept your challenge?" Shane inquired loftily, as if the bet was on par with a noble deed by a knight of the Round Table, rather than just a drunken gamble between friends.

"You haven't even told me what it is, yet!"

Shane clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You know that's not how it works, Factor. Agreement first, information later. I mean, I know you were the hero tonight, but special treatment only goes so far."

Ryan rolled his eyes, looking over to Gabriel for solidarity, but he was surprised when Gabriel only smirked at him. In fact, all of his teammates had that same look on their faces. Expectant. Watchful. Amused. All except for Jamie, who was staring at Shane, a sulky look on his face. He'd been in a terrible mood all day, not his usual jolly self at the morning skate or in the locker room. At first, Ryan had wondered if he was only behaving that way around him, but he was quickly disabused of that idea. No one could talk to him without being snapped at and, eventually, no one tried. Whatever anger he was harboring, however, had definitely fueled him during the game, leading to him scoring two goals and doling out a career-high number of hits. He even dropped the gloves. His teammates were willing to forget his moodiness in lieu of his performance during the game, but Ryan couldn't help wondering if it had anything to do with the awkward triangle between him, Ryan, and Lily that had somehow developed.

"Alright, well…," Ryan sighed, "fine. I accept."

The shiteating grins that suddenly sprouted up all around him made him instantly regret his decision. Not that he could do anything about it, now.

"You're a brave soul, Factor…" Shane paused to take a sip of his drink. "So, here it is: I'm going to ask Cassidy out."

Ryan roared with laughter. Cassidy, one of the bartenders at 24K, had been on Shane's 'Most Wanted' list for almost as long as Shane had been on the team. She was a firecracker--hot, independent, and completely intolerant of bullshit which everyone, including her, knew Shane was full of. Ryan couldn't count on his fingers and toes how many times Cassidy had turned Shane down. "Jeez, I thought your challenges were supposed to be difficult."

The rest of the guys joined Ryan in laughter, but Shane seemed undaunted. In fact, he leaned back against the couch, relaxed and smiling, either from his innate cockiness or the liquid courage in his hand. "Well, you don't even know your side of it, yet." The guys quieted to low chuckles, their gazes shifting back to Ryan.

"Okay, let's have it, then."

"If Cassidy rejects me--"

"Again," Ryan interjected quickly.

"--I buy everyone's drinks for the whole night, the next time we're out." A low rumble of laughter and murmurs rippled across the group and Ryan smiled. "But if she accepts…you have to go on a date with that hot little blonde over there."

Ryan laughed, but he could feel the elusive taste of doubt at the back of his throat stinging like bile. Shane just seemed so confident--too confident--and the rest of the guys were looking at each other conspiratorially, as though they were all in on some joke that Ryan was unaware of. Only Jamie seemed just as unenthused as Ryan felt. He gave Ryan a dark look before abruptly getting up and heading to the bar, the drink in his hand only half-finished.

Shane was holding out one hand, now, waiting for Ryan to shake it and seal their deal. And even as he reached out to meet him halfway, Ryan couldn't help thinking: I'm going to regret this.

~

Ryan tugged at his blazer for the eighth time, his expression in the mirror grim. He sighed, then, running his hands through his curly hair, spoiling any neatness he had achieved with gel just a few minutes before. He glanced down at his wristwatch, groaned, gave himself a last once-over, and then left his room.

Once downstairs, he went right to the kitchen to grab his car keys. His steps slowed as he stared into the dining room, where Lily had installed herself at the dining room table with her laptop, leather-bound notebook, and a small stack of papers. She had thrown her hair up in a bun at the top of her head, which Ryan had often seen her do when she was concentrated on something. She seemed to hate anything extraneous or restraining when she was trying to focus: her long hair went up, she rolled up her sleeves, and the only item allowed in her work space besides her writing materials was a cup of green tea. Ryan liked watching her work, often looking out for the subtle reactions she had to whatever she was reading. A raised eyebrow, a sigh, the tiniest smile. He liked that when she was 'in the zone' nothing could make her deviate from that. They were alike in that way.

She glanced up, for a moment, catching him looking at her, but clearly thinking nothing of it. She gave him a tired smile. "Hello."

"Hey. Looks like you've got a lot on your plate, eh?"

She glanced down at the pile of papers next to her laptop, looking aggrieved. "We were tasked with writing a 15 page short story. My editing partner decided to give me the first chapter of his epic fantasy novel."

"Uh oh."

"Thirty-five pages. Double-sided. And the plot is just…" She sighed. "He needs to do a lot of work." She grabbed her teacup, glancing into it to confirm that it was empty, and then got up to join Ryan in the kitchen. As she passed him, she did a double take, looking from him, to the wall clock, and back again. "Are you going out?"

Ryan shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah. Just this dinner…thing."

"You look nice!" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she filled the tea kettle with water. She wondered who his tailor was. They were doing a good job. "Where are you going?"

He started fiddling with the car keys in his hand. "This placed called NoRTH."

"Oh, Jamie showed it to me last week! It's supposed to be very good!" The keys in Ryan's hand stilled for a moment and then resumed their anxious dance. "Is this a team dinner?" She put the kettle on the stove and turned it on.

"Umm, no."

She looked over at him, then, her tone vaguely curious. "Are you going to be dining alone?"

He didn't even have the heart to be amused by the fact that she thought he didn't have friends who weren't on the team. Shit, shit, shit. The jangling of the keys almost drowned out his response. "Er, no." Now, she just looked outright confused. He sighed. Just say it and get it over with. "I lost a bet to O'Brien," he prefaced carefully, "and got roped into going on a date."

Lily's mouth fell open, slightly. "Oh." The awkward moment that he had been dreading for an entire week settled over them like a cloud of toxic gas. He cringed internally as Lily's cheeks bloomed a bright pink. "I didn't mean to pry," she finally said. She didn't seem to know where to look, her eyes darting between him, the floor, and the ceiling, before she finally turned around and started fiddling with her teacup and teabag.

"It's fine!" He rushed to assure her. "It's really not a big deal. I'm only calling it a date, because OB did, although…I mean, I guess it's technically a date, but…" He trailed off, mid-thought, noticing how still she was, her back still turned to him. "It's just a casual thing--" At least, for me, it is. "--I'm not looking for anything serious." He ruminated on his statement for a moment, before adding quickly, "With her, at least."

Lily turned back to face him, then, looking amused, of all things. "That's a very poor attitude to adopt before the first date has even happened."

He covered his shock with laughter. "You're right. I guess I'm just a little less than thrilled about being forced to go on a date."

She leaned back against the counter, cocking her head to one side. "Are you not interested in dating, at all, then?"

He put a hand on the kitchen island to steady himself. Of all the damn questions… "I mean, I don't plan on being single my whole life, if that's what you're asking," he replied, faintly amused.

"Well," the kettle started to whistle and she flicked off the burner, turning to attend to her tea, "I suppose once you get a steady girlfriend, I'll have to move out. So, perhaps I should be glad that you aren't so interested in dating. It gives me more time to plan my future," she chuckled to herself.

"I…" There were so many ridiculous and upsetting things in that one statement, that he didn't even know how to respond. "First of all, I would never kick you out. You're free to stay here as long as you'd like." Forever would be nice.

Lily laughed. "Something tells me that your girlfriend would not be of the same opinion."

"The girlfriend issue aside--" Since it is completely moot, unless we're talking about you… "Are you really planning to move out so soon?" He tried to make it sound playful and not wounded, although he wasn't quite sure if he succeeded.

She had finished making her tea and she turned to face him, giving him a contemplative look. "Well, not necessarily soon. I think I should find a way to support myself, first, don't you?" He just nodded. "And it isn't as though I'd move very far away…I quite like it here in Denver."

"You don't wanna move around like your parents do, huh?"

She frowned, slightly. "When I was young, I often thought about what it would be like. It seemed so romantic: a new city, a new country every few months. New people and ideas, languages and cultures." She paused for a moment, staring down into her teacup. "A fresh start." With her hair pulled back, Ryan could see that vulnerable expression that had revealed itself that first day at the rink. It was times like these that he wished he could read her mind. The expression passed, but his curiosity did not. "But as I grew older, I realized that I craved roots somewhere. Maybe not forever, but for longer than a few months, certainly. That was the most exciting part about going to college, for me. Choosing a home. Choosing my own roots."

"Do you miss Boston?"

She smiled sadly down into her cup. "Oh, very much. I thought I would stay there past graduation, perhaps even apply to BU's creative writing program, but… Well, I became friends with Serena and then I met--" Her eyes flicked up to meet his, the last word of her thought dying in her throat.

The air seemed to pulse to its own beat, or maybe it was the sound of their pounding hearts falling into rhythm as they stared each other down. Both remained stock-still, waiting for the other to make a move, utter a word, release the breath that they were both holding.

Ryan's phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, unceremoniously shattering whatever moment had just passed between them. Frustrated, he pulled the untimely interruption out of his pocket, almost dropping it in his haste.

Brianne-->let me know when you're on your way :)
Ryan-->leaving now

He suppressed a grimace. Try to be positive. Actually, just try not to be an asshole.

"Duty calls?" Lily was watching him over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of her tea.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'll see you later, though, right?"

"Mmhmm. Have a good time!"

"I'll try," he sighed, still standing in place, staring at her, until he remembered that he had a date. That he had to go pick up another girl, take her out to dinner, talk and laugh with her, and pretend that he was not thinking of someone else the whole time. Someone with ink dark hair and indigo eyes and ivory skin. Someone with an amazing mind and a golden soul and steel ramparts surrounding both. Someone that he wanted to unravel from beginning to end and then surround himself with. Oh, Lily. You're going to be my undoing.

She listened to him tread down the stairs, the steady beat much slower than her racing heart. She took a sip of her tea to try to rinse away the bitter taste in her mouth. She felt strangely unsettled, all of a sudden, as though her mind was a table with one leg shorter than the rest. Every time she tried to balance it, her thoughts shifted out of her grasp, sending the table wobbling, once more. Rubbing her fingers against her temple, Lily made her way back to the dining room table.

She settled into her seat, taking a soothing sip of tea before pulling her classmate's manuscript towards her, once more. "The king stroked at his beard, as he looked out over his bowing court contemplatively…" Ryan hadn't shaved for his date. He didn't shave often, if at all. She liked that. She liked that he could be slightly undone and still look put together. Like Serena's perennially mussed hair, it was that one messy detail that made both their looks effortless. But presentability had been ingrained in Lily at a very young age and she had never wavered from carefully tucked corners and meticulously ironed clothes. She could tell that Ryan always ironed his clothes. She wondered if his mother had taught him how to do that--he often talked of her, with much fondness.

The realization suddenly dawned on her that she had been reading the same line of the story over and over again. She sighed and pushed the stack of papers away from her. I can finish it tomorrow. She pulled her notebook to her, instead, smiling down at it as though it were a child and not an inanimate object. She rubbed at the worn cover absentmindedly, listening to the fragmented poetry swimming through her brain. She tried to catch bits and pieces as they flew by, string them into a coherent whole, but unity of subject was lacking in everything she tried. Annoyed, but undaunted, she flipped the notebook open to a fresh page and positioned her pen at the top, ready to let her thoughts spill out onto the blank space.

But nothing came to her.

She had blue on the brain. Azure, beryl, cerulean, cobalt, indigo, navy, sapphire, turquoise. Ryan had worn a pale blue shirt under a grey suit, tonight, and it had brought out the color in his intelligent, searching eyes. She wondered if his date would notice. She wondered if his date had blue eyes. In fact, she just couldn't help wondering what his date looked like, overall.

She pushed the chair back from the table, abruptly, lava coursing through her blood, thick and viscous. Notebook in hand, she paced from the kitchen, to the living room, and back again, hoping for inspiration or, at the very least, relief from the buzzing thoughts in her head. She had never just written as a hobby, or for pleasure. It had always been necessary, a purging of the mind and soul, without which she struggled to concentrate on daily life. If she went a long time without writing, she developed terrible headaches and had trouble sleeping. The ghost words that floated just behind her eyelids were like clouds blocking the sun.

She dropped the notebook on the couch, suddenly, and then flopped down beside it. She turned the T.V. on, flipped to the Game Show Network, and settled back against the cushions. A re-run of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire was on and she began calling out the answers, clutching a pillow to her chest whenever the contestant wavered over their response.

"C! Dhaka!"

"Alexander Pope!"

"Snooki--no, you fool, it's Snooki!" She almost didn't hear her cell phone ringing over herself and the noise from the T.V. She tumbled off the couch, mumbling to herself as she hurried to where her purse lay on the dining room floor, "Who doesn't know who Snooki is?" She plucked her phone from her bag. "Hello?"

"Hey, you."

A smile flitted across her face and, for a moment, the table settled into balance. "Jamie! How have you been?" She strolled back into the living room and fell upon the couch, muting the T.V.

"Okay, I guess. Tough week we just had." The Avalanche had gone on a five day, three game road trip through the Eastern Conference, managing to obtain 3 of the available 6 points. Not exactly ideal. But now they were home for a stretch, where they were known to play better. "It'll be nice to stay close to home for awhile."

"Yes, its been nice having a roommate, again," she chuckled.

Jamie was silent, for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it gets pretty lonely for ya, huh?"

"Not necessarily lonely. I like to be alone. But sometimes, it's nice to know that someone else is alone with you--do you know what I mean?"

Jamie laughed. "I think I do."

"Philophobia!" She blurted out, her eyes on the T.V.

"Um, what?"

She blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm watching this television show and I just can't help myself--"

"Oh! Well, I don't wanna bother you--"

"You're not bothering me at all! It was just on in the background. I'm trying to pass the time." She squinted her eyes to see the clock in the kitchen. 7:00. She exhaled loudly. Ryan had only been gone an hour.

"Alright, well, I was just calling to ask if you wanted to go on another not-date with me sometime?"

Her focus on the T.V. wavered, her mind fully concentrating on the conversation, now. The silence of bated breath was easy to catch over the phone. She thought of Ryan and his date. A 'not-date', bless him. "A not-date sounds wonderful, Jamie. What did you have in mind?"

She could hear his stifled sigh of relief. "Dinner and a movie? The new Hunger Games flick just came out…"

"That sounds lovely."

"Awesome," he said, clearly enthused. "So, what are you up to, tonight?"

"Oh, just…" Lily twisted a corner of her pillow between two fingers, gnawing on her bottom lip. "…relaxing. Ryan, um--he had a date tonight. Apparently. So, I'm just here…erm…relaxing."

Again, Jamie paused before speaking. "Oh, right. The bet. I almost forgot about that."

"Yes, this bet…what was it about, exactly?"

"It was just another one of OB's stupid, drunk wagers. He saw some blonde checking Ryan out and decided to try and capitalize on it, mess with him a little bit. It certainly wasn't Factor's idea."

So, the mystery girl was blonde--and obviously interested in Ryan. Poor thing. She felt bad, knowing that Ryan had been less than thrilled to go on the date, in the first place. But knowing him, he's probably acting the consummate gentleman… And still, her fingers twisted and untwisted the fabric of the pillow. "I was rather surprised that he didn't say anything about it to me. In fact, I don't think he was planning on telling me, at all--it was only when I happened to ask where he was going that he said anything. I mean, it isn't as though I expect to be informed of every detail of his life, but…he usually tells me all the little goings-on with the team, including all of the shenanigans that Shane gets himself into, so I suppose I'm just a bit baffled as to why he wouldn't tell me about this. I understand that dates might not be considered such a big deal for a man, but…" Heat radiated from her face in powerful waves and she was glad that Jamie couldn't see it.

There was another long pause. Jamie always seemed to choose his words so carefully when the subject of Ryan was brought up. "Maybe…maybe he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. I mean, you've only been rooming together for, what, two months? Maybe he just didn't know how to approach the subject with you. He probably just didn't want you to feel weird about the whole thing."

"Weird?" She repeated sharply. "Why should I feel weird? Him deciding to date someone is not weird."

"Well, I mean, it kinda is, since he hasn't gone on a date in ages--"

She plowed on, barely heeding his statement. "I only feel weird, because he failed to inform me of this somewhat important event, even though we are roommates and--and friends."

"So, this isn't about him going out with another girl?"

His question stunned her, for a moment. "Not at all! He can fraternize with whomever he pleases. I don't care."

"Really? Because it sounds like you do."

She threw the pillow across the room. "I do NOT." She could feel her pulse pounding in her temple, a headache forming behind it.

There was a long beat of silence. "You know…back when I played for San Jose and I roomed with Couture--you know Logan Couture?--anyway, he was one of my best friends--still is--but there was a time where he was dating this chick and as weird as this sounds, I was pretty jealous of her. Well, maybe not so much jealous as bitter that she was taking my best friend away from me. He changed a bit because of her, too, and that was freaking me out… What it comes down to is that it's easy--and normal--to feel possessive over the people we're close to. And it's not weird to care. Or to feel weird about caring."

She had tucked her knees underneath her chin, hugging her calves to her chest with one arm. "I can't understand why I care, though."

"Well, I mean, you guys have your whole living situation mapped out, you're probably set in your ways, you know how to act around each other… Adding someone else to the equation is obviously going to mess with that system and maybe, deep down, you know that and it freaks you out a bit. It's no big deal! It's normal. It's just that, if Ryan and this chick get serious, you guys are gonna have to make some adjustments, that's all."

She didn't want to make adjustments. She liked how things were. She liked their dinners together, the hours at the rink, waiting for him after a home game, win or lose. All of that would cease if he started dating this or any other girl. Dinners would be for three, she would be skating at the rink alone, and she would drive herself home from games, while another woman waited for Ryan, alongside Serena and the other WAGs. Anger, white hot, seared through her like lightning. "But you must understand how it's different for me, as a woman. I shouldn't care. I'm not supposed to care. We're only roommates. We aren't…we're not… People are so quick to assume--"

"Fuck what everyone assumes!" He burst out. "Fuck what they think! God, all that matters is how you feel."

And how do you feel about him? It was the obvious question hanging in the air after Jamie's outburst, but, to his credit, he refrained from asking it aloud. Lily closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against her knees. "You're right," she said quietly. "I know that you're right. But it's hard not to look to others for guidance when--when I don't even know what I'm feeling." The silence following went on for so long that she checked her phone to see if he had hung up. "Jamie?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm still here." He sighed. "Just…look, Lily. If you're that unsure about…things…at least make sure you're looking to the right people for help. People that care about you. People like--"

"Serena."

"Yeah, or--"

"Ryan?"

He cleared his throat again. "Yeah, and me." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I know we haven't known each other very long and, yeah, I might have a crush on you or whatever--" She shook her head, blushing, but smiling. "--but at the end of the day, I consider you a friend more than anything else and…and I'd never try and steer you wrong, okay?"

"You're a wonderful person, Jamie."

"Eh. I have my moments."

"I should have come to Denver much sooner than I did."

Jamie laughed, the sound only holding the barest trace of bitterness. "I think you came at just the right time."

~

"So, this went better than I thought it would."

Ryan glanced over at the girl sitting in his passenger seat, smiling bemusedly. I was thinking the same thing. "What exactly were you expecting?"

"A Shane O'Brien debacle." For a second, Ryan stopped breathing. Shane?!? What about him? He was going to kill his teammate if he had deliberately sent him off on a date with a girl he had already gotten his hands on. Because Shane never did the drop-you-home-and-kiss-you-at-your-front-door. He went for the home run, every time. "My friend went out with him, once, and let's just say that he clearly couldn't wait to get to dessert." Her voice was laced with heavy sarcasm and he laughed, feeling very relieved.

"Why am I not surprised? For what it's worth, I apologize on his behalf."

"It's okay. She enjoyed herself. And it seems that that's just his style, so…"

"Doesn't mean it isn't stupid."

She laughed, her green eyes sparkling. Brianne David, part-time model, full-time graduate student at the University of Denver. Their date had gone surprisingly well and Ryan liked her--a lot. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, and hadn't shown any signs of clinginess. It had been nice to feel like a normal person, for once…even though both of them could tell that people were staring at them while they were at the restaurant. It came with the territory, of course, but Brianne had handled it with aplomb, which made sense, because most of her living came from being in front of a camera. "My building's right here," she said, pointing through the windshield. As Ryan pulled around to the front of the apartment complex, he could feel Brianne staring at him. "You know, you're welcome to come up for awhile. If you want."

He slowed the car to a stop in front of the main doors and looked over at Brianne. She tucked a piece of blonde hair behind one ear, smiling hesitantly at him. She was so pretty. And it had been so long since he had thought about anyone else besides Lily. And no matter how much he liked Lily, the fact remained that she still only viewed him as a friend…

"Yeah," he said, the car rolling into motion once more, "I'd like that."

~

The entire first floor of the townhouse was bathed in shadow, save for the blue flickering light that emanated from the T.V. and splashed itself across Lily's emotionless face. She was staring into space without seeing anything. All of her conscious thought was bent on the slow drip of time through her veins, each drop burning like acid. She was being eaten away from the inside out by some lurking, nameless monster that seemed to have taken up residence in her very bones. She felt heavy, too heavy to move or even cry, which would have been a welcome release. Her head weighed the most of all, throbbing with painful words and poisonous poetry.

With a dull thud, she was jarred from her apathetic stupor. She glanced down at the floor, where her cell phone had fallen after sliding out of her hand. Staring down at the fallen device, Lily wished that she had taken Jamie up on his offer to come over and keep her company. He could have kept these shadows out of her heart with his easy, joking attitude and charmingly flirtatious manner. For his obvious crush on her didn't both her as much as such things usually did, if only because Jamie expected nothing from her in return. He had, so far, never once tried to make a serious move on her, restricting any flirtatious behavior to purely verbal exchanges and the occasional wink or nudge. Jamie, unlike so many others before him, didn't make her feel imprisoned by his admiration. She could still exist freely beneath his stare.

She leaned down to pick up the phone, passing it between her hands, once or twice, before sighing and standing up. She was tired of trying to distract herself from everything that she was feeling. It could have its way with her until she fell asleep. If she fell asleep.

She made her stumbling way up the darkened stairs, flicking on the hall light when she reached the top. The sudden brightness hurt her eyes. Once in her bathroom, she avoided looking in the mirror until the last possible moment. But as she finished washing her face, she caught a glimpse of herself as she gently patted her face dry with a towel. Reading books had always been easy for her--reading her own heart, however, much less so. Yet, lately, the language in her eyes was becoming more and more clear, as though she had unknowingly picked up the key to the code and was in the process of decrypting all of the feelings that had once been so foreign to her. But what was she supposed to do with them once they were acknowledged?

Looking into her own eyes, she felt the cobra coiled in the pit of her stomach raise its head, anger rippling through her nerves as it hissed its disapproval. And then, quite suddenly, she realized what it was.

"I'm jealous."

~

The adrenaline rush hadn't quite burned off as Ryan drove home, the taste of Brianne lingering on his lips. It had been so long since he had kissed someone, since he had thought of kissing anyone besides Lily. He had forgotten how great it felt.

As he pulled into the driveway, however, his excitement dimmed slightly. The house was almost pitch black, only a single windowpane glowing gold. He glanced at his dashboard clock, noting that it was only 9:30. Is Lily already asleep? It was certainly out of character for her--she was often up until all hours of the night, scribbling away at her desk, Bach and Mozart and Chopin her only companions. She can't possibly be asleep…

~

She didn't know how long she had been laying there, her thoughts a whirlwind, a hurricane that was keeping her wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

Will he go home with her? That's what people do, isn't it? Former roommates of hers had sometimes brought their 'dates' home after a night out at the bar, only sparing a passing hello before pulling the lucky stranger into their bedroom, relegating their roommate to the common room couch for the night. Sometimes--Serena, especially, in order to avoid judgment--they stayed out the whole night, only stumbling through the door in the morning, still in their clothes from the previous evening, accepting the catcalls of "stride of pride!" with a wink. Lily stiffened, suddenly, at this thought. What if he brings her back here? What if they… She felt nauseous. He wouldn't do that, would he?

And that's when she heard the faint sound of the door opening.

"Lily?"

She froze. She felt as though she had been engulfed in flame and swiftly reduced to ash. She didn't dare answer his call. Indeed, she couldn't have spoken if she tried. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Ryan's footsteps on the stairs. Was there another pair alongside his? Her raucous, racing heart was giving her a headache as she strained to hear past its insistent beat.

"Lily?" The call was softer, now, hesitant. She managed to turn on her side, her eyes burning with the glowing strip of light at the bottom of her door. Her heart stopped when a shadow moved to block part of that light.

He was right there. He was standing right in front of her door. And in that moment, she had never wanted anything as much as she wanted him to open the door that very second and walk into her room. She wanted to see him. She wanted…

~

There was no reason for him to open her door, right now, but he hadn't felt such a powerful urge in a long time. You're crazy, he thought to himself as he jerked his hand away from the doorknob that mocked him with a glint. He turned on his heel and walked down the hallway to his room, still listening for any signs of life from behind the door that he had just walked away from. I can't believe she's asleep, already.

But a strange uncertainty nagged at him as he got ready for bed and climbed underneath the sheets. He stared up at his ceiling, one hand behind his head, trying to figure out the source of his discomfort. He had been having such a good night, but as soon as he had come home he had felt, well, guilty. Which was insane, since he hadn't done anything wrong. Right…?

His phone buzzed its way across his bedside table.

Brianne--> just wanted to thank you again for tonight. i had a really good time. :)
Ryan--> me too :) maybe we can do it again soon?
Brianne--> yeah! that'd be fun! keep in touch ;)

After promising he would and wishing her a good night, he put his phone on silent and placed it back on the table.

He had a lot of thinking to do.