Friendly Affections

It might have helped if she had been completely unappealing, but she wasn't. The woman Cam had set me up with was beautiful. Her eyes shimmered blue, her hair shined gold and her peaches and crème face consisted of twists and turns that melded together perfectly. Her teeth where bright white and flawless, showing from behind her small, pink, heart-shaped mouth that always seemed to be laughing. She was unbelievably pretty, but most importantly she looked and acted nothing like Jodie.
Her name was Melanie, she was new to Columbus and starting a job the following Monday as a kindergarden teacher. She was gregarious, endearing and laughed at all I said, humorous or not. She was the sort of girl I knew I could fall in love with. But I had already tossed my heart at another woman, a dark haired, sarcastic one, who always told me when my jokes were terrible, and it had been reviled and rejected. Where it fell after that, I don't know. Probably a muddy dirt road somewhere in Finland, to be tread on daily.
I had toyed with the concept of seeing Melanie again. She was pretty. She was sweet. She was naïve to point of being vapid at times, but that was a flaw I could handle. She would be good for me, but I knew I would not be good for her. To date her while I was still mooning over Jodie would be as bad as what Jodie had done me. Maybe worse, since I at least had been fully aware of what I was getting into.
“Jack, this was fun! Thanks for the dinner.” Melanie told me earnestly at the end of the night when we stood outside her door.
I wasn't going to kiss her. On a list of bad ideas, that was number two, right after asking her out on a second date. I knew kisses could be friendly and passed between people with no interest in one another but I wasn't going to risk her interpretation of it. Unaware of my silent precautions, she leaned forward and left a light flutter of a peck on my cheek.
“Yeah it was fun. I'm glad we did it. But I don't –”
“Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. It's okay.” She put a hand on my forearm. “Cam warned me that you were getting over someone and that you might be a total drag tonight – which you weren't, you were actually a blast – but I just don't want to see someone who isn't over another woman. That's something someone has to deal with on their own.”
I'm going to kill him. I thought savagely.
No, you're not. The more reasonable side of my mind retorted.
Fine, how about castrate with a hockey skate?
That sounds more humane. I can provide the skate.
“Oh, you look shocked! I'm sorry!” Melanie said, aghast. “Cam told me about Jodie and you just to make sure I didn't fall madly in love with you tonight! I'm sorry!”
I laughed it off. “No, it's fine. He was smart to do so. It leaves us from having the awkward I'm-in-love-with-someone-else-so-we-can't-date conversation I was dreading.”
“Aw.” She said, titling her head like a puppy. “You're in love with her?”
I hadn't meant to say it that way, but the clever remark had left my lips before I could staunch it. I had admitted it to myself, but not anyone else. Not even Jodie. “I, uh. Don't mention that to Cam.” I pretended to joke, but intended it to be serious. He didn't know too deeply what had happened with Jodie and I preferred to keep it that way. We were guys, and when you're two guys crying about your feelings together is only alright if your names are Ponyboy and Johnnycake and you're characters in a best-selling novel.
“Okay!” She chirped. “It'll be our secret! I hope we can be friends though, because you really are great! And I can't wait to meet the rest of your teammates when this pesky lock-out ends, because Cam promised me one of you nineteen guys would be available.”
“There are plenty who are ready and willing for a pretty women.” I answered. “But sure, being friends sounds great. By the way, how do you know Cam? He never mentioned it.”
“Ha, well I think I know why. We actually dated for a while when we were kids! Little weird, but we were lucky enough to have strong friendship that could survive.” She answered, smiling and unfazed by my question.
“So,” I was a little more surprised by the answer than I thought I would be. “No hard feelings there?”
“Nope, none!” She replied.
I silently wished that could be the case with Jodie and me. But I knew that being in her presence and not being able to touch her would be far to tough to endure. I bid Melanie goodnight, received a tight, but entirely innocent hug from her and left.
I called Cam on the way back to my apartment. “You fucker.”
“Jack!” He said cheerfully and I wondered if that was a characteristic he had picked up from Melanie. “What's up, dude?”
“A few things. Like that you told Melanie about Jodie and that you didn't tell me Melanie is you ex?” I drove haphazardly with one hand on the wheel, as the streetlights dancing reflections across the dark hood my truck.
“One, she deserved a fair warning. Though I should of know she would be dumb to mention it to you. And B, it's not a big deal. It was a long time ago, like high-school-long-time-ago. Our families are friends so we stayed close.” Cam explained cooly, as though the answers were obvious.
“Cam, you're an idiot.” I relaxed a little though. He hadn't done anything wrong, I was just being sensitive over Jodie.
“Thank you!” And with the chipper response, it struck me that Melanie and Cam could've been twins.
We discussed the CBA negotiations for a few minutes before hanging up and when I got home I decided to do the most pathetic thing I possibly could – outside of calling someone and hanging up four times, like someone did – I checked Jodie's Facebook. It would be a lie to say it was the first time I had checked it since she had left four months prior. It would've been a lie to say it was the tenth time, or even the hundredth time, although thousandth might have been a bit closer to the truth.
It looked the same as the last time. Her profile picture was her holding a puppy in her arms at a pet store three blocks from her apartment – which I knew, because I had taken the picture. It was old, from the summer. Her tanned face was scrunched up with laughter as the puppy licked at her face and her arms curled around it like she never wanted to let go. Her hair was down and was longer and lighter than usual because of how often she spent outside. Her body was adorn with jean shorts and a tank top I knew was sitting somewhere in my bedroom, because I distinctly remembered peeling it off her later that night.
I studied the picture for a moment, a dull ache settling in me. So, I thought I had exaggerated her in my imagination. No such luck. I read a few status updates and was happy to see none involved Mark or any other men for that matter. Well, one did, but it was a fictional character from a television show I knew she was obsessed with. There was one status, from only an hour before, stating: movie night with my favorite sister, Kate Pearson!!!!
The comments below dictated a rude banter between Kate and Jodie which made me smile. They always fought like sisters but laughed together like best friends.
I continued my pathetic venture down her Facebook page by clicking through her multiple tagged photos. I had done this before and thought I had seen them all, but there was one new. It was posted by Kate and only minutes old, showing Jodie stretched out on her couch, toasting the camera with a wine glass. She was dressed in sweat pants I hope I had correctly identified as a pair of my old King's ones, a stretchy ribbed tank top and her glasses which I hardly ever saw her wear. From her face I could tell she was drunk, or at least pleasantly buzzed. That drew a smile to my face, because she was always was a blast with a little alcohol in her. The caption on it was: I hope her boss sees this and fires her drunken ass hahahha, which I think all three of us and anyone else who saw it knew was unlikely, since her boss adored her. As most people did. I nearly liked the photo out of habit but stopped just in time to kick myself. I couldn't tell her not to call me anymore and then plaster my name all over her Facebook notifications. That would be heartless.
While my gaze got lost in the photo once again, a comment showed up at the bottom of it. It was from RJ and read: wonder where she got those sweatpants? And it made me want to laugh and kill him all in the same moment.
The comment was instantly liked by both sisters, but no reply was posted. So, knowing neither Jodie nor Kate would receive a notification because of it, I liked the comment too. Next to liking the photo, it was second best—just like I was in Jodie’s life.