The Brink of Destruction

Wynn took one look at me and shut the door. "What on earth is wrong, Gen?" she asked, sitting me down in the desk chair. "You look like you're going to faint!"

I slowly turned toward her, staring blankly. "He...he kissed me..." I murmured.

"That's wonderful!" she said excitedly. "Isn't it?" Her smile faded when she saw my dazed expression.

"I don't know, Wynn. I'm still in shock. It almost happened the night we went to the Chapel, but this was...oh, my God!"

"Gen, you're trembling! He must really have laid one on you!" she said, her voice hushed in amazement. "Did you know he felt this way about you?"

"What way is that? I have no idea what he's thinking, or how he feels. Two minutes before he kissed me, he was acting like he was mad at me!"

"Why? Did he tell you?"

"He said I'd made him look foolish by not telling him about Dustin earlier. But Wynn, I didn't think there was any reason to tell him. We weren't dating, we'd barely spent any time together, and he seemed as likely to be pissed off at me as not."

"Look, I probably shouldn't say this, partly because it isn't any of my business, and partly because it's obvious. But I think Billie may be taking your friendship a lot more seriously than you think."

"Friendship? I don't even know if we're close enough to call it that!"

She looked at my tousled hair and shaking hands. "Well, if you weren't before, you certainly are now. What about Dustin?"

Yes, that was the big question. And as I tried to fall asleep, it was the one I asked myself over and over again.

***************

Saturday dawned cool and rainy, not unusual for October, and I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and sleep. But there was a paper that needed writing, and a French assignment that required me to go to the lab for tapes, so there would be no rest today. I decided to get the miserable trek over to East Campus out of the way first, so with a bagel in my pocket, I boarded the bus and joined the rest of the sad, soggy people squishing their way around this Gothic sandbox.

Through the headphones, the lines of "Madame Bovary" seemed to whisper to my heart more that to my ears:

"Rodolphe ne parlait plus. Ils see regardaient. Un desir supreme
faisait frissonner leurs levres seches; et mollement, sans effort,
leurs doigts se confondirent."

Indeed. The story of illicit affairs of the heart, the temptation of a rogue lover and his wild, passionate life...no irony there, nosirree!

I was trying to listen intently, making notes as I went along, but it was useless. Concentration was all but impossible. After an hour of rewinds and replays, I finally threw in the towel and went back to the room.

I fared better on my English Lit paper, mainly because it was my favorite subject. Several cups of coffee and five CD's later, I was printing the final draft and cover page, and feeling rather satisfied.

The French would have to wait until another day, when my heart wasn't beating so hard.
My reward to myself was a call to Dustin (motivated not in the least by guilt, mind you.) He had gotten home late the night before, just about the time the world was swaying out of balance for me. Twice I almost worked up the courage to tell him what had happened, to interrupt the unremarkable, comfortable conversation we were having and throw a wrench into everything. But his voice was so kind, so gentle, and when he told me how much he loved me...I just couldn't bring myself to hurt him that way. Besides, I wasn't the one who had taken things a step too far. Billie was the one who had kissed me, not the other way round.

What I was feeling now was irrelevant. It was confusion, a transference from what I really wanted to what was right in front of me, that's all. Dustin was the one who understood me, who knew all the little things about me, who shared my secrets. That's what matters, isn't it? Not excitement or passion, or the thrill of something that was off-limits. Those are the things that distract and then fade away.

Why couldn't he just fade away, I thought.

Then I realized I wasn't sure who I was talking about, and cursed myself silently.

I had just slid the Lit paper into its folder when the phone rang.

"H'lo?" I said, balancing it on my shoulder as I splayed the little brass prongs.

"How'd you sleep?" The voice was all too familiar.

"Like a baby. And you?" I was determined to keep the quiver out of my own voice.

"Not worth a damn, if you want to know the truth."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"We need to talk." He was wasting no time with pleasant small talk; he sounded edgy and irritable.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I think it might be better if we took a little time to cool off and think."

"Do you, now? Well, I've done enough thinking, and I have something I want to say to you."

"We're talking now, aren't we?" I desperately didn't want to face him right now.

"Don't bullshit me, Gen. I need to see you. I'll be there in ten minutes."

I swallowed, hard. "Okay, fine, I'll meet you downstairs to let you in."

"There's no need for that, you know that."

"Billie, it's raining cats and dogs. You go climbing around on the roof in this and you'll fall and break your damn neck. Just meet me at the entrance, okay?"

Click.

I didn't even bother looking in the mirror. I did, however, help myself to another of those tequila shots. Or two. I needed all the courage I could get.

Minutes later, I opened the door, and there he stood, soaked to the skin, his car idling at the curb. He wasn't even wearing a jacket, and he looked so cold.

"Come in, you'll freeze!" I said, handing him the towel I knew he'd need. "God, it's pouring!"

"No, I want you to come with me. Lock up and meet me in the car."

I wasn't used to being ordered around like this. His expression was as stormy as the sky, and he almost crackled with nerves as he spoke. He handed the towel back to me and ran his fingers through his hair absently, looking up at me as if he were doing battle inside his head.

"Please?" he whispered.

I ran upstairs, tossed the towel in the closet, and locked the door. My sneakers splashed as I flew down the sidewalk and dove into the car beside him. His fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, keeping double time with the wipers.

"Where did you want to go?" I asked him.

He didn't answer me. He just put the car in gear and headed it out toward the highway. For a long time he was silent, not even looking at me. I listened to the rain beating down on the car and watched the trees slide by as we covered mile after mile.

Finally, he signaled a left turn and swung the Fairlane onto a dirt road that was barely visible. The car passed like a shadow under a canopy of low-hanging trees, and emerged in a clearing beside a lake surrounded by spruces and pines. It was here that he finally stopped and turned off the ignition.

He sat there, head in his hand, struggling to find the words he was so determined to say. I waited quietly, not knowing what was going through his mind or what was about to happen.
Finally, he turned to face me. His eyes pierced directly into mine, and his lips were tight.

"I need to know where I stand with you, Gen. I need to know what you were feeling last night. Because that kiss felt pretty goddamned real to me, and if you're just playing around, you need to tell me. It's not fair to me, and it's not fair to--to whatshisface."

"Dustin."

"Yeah."

"I don't know what to say, Billie." I felt so lost, so tangled in my feelings that I might trip over them any second. And words were just making it worse. "I've been with Dustin for a long time, and I..."

He waited, but I had run it off in the ditch.

"You what?" he prodded. "Say it, Gen. Do you love him?"

There it was, naked and exposed for the world to see. Dustin was sweet, and smart, and steady. He was wonderful, and devoted to me in a way I didn't deserve. I knew he'd be there, ready and waiting for me to marry him when we graduated.

And he was boring me to tears.

I didn't realize I'd curled my hands into fists until Billie's hands covered them, stroking my fingers and coaxing them open.

"I'm not here to make things hard for you, Gen. But I'm not easy to be around, and I'm not safe. I play rough, you know that about me already. What I don't do is play games. I'm not the kind of man who sneaks in under another guy's radar, and I won't be a toy for anyone. Either we're straight up, or we're not."

"Are you asking me to break up with him?" I said in disbelief. "Why would I do that for someone I hardly know?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything except tell me how you feel about me. Can you do that?"

I was afraid my pounding heart was going to do that for me. But I couldn't pretend he wasn't burning into my brain, my heart, my mind. Even as we sat there with the rain beating down on the roof of the car, turning everything outside into a blurry watercolor, I couldn't say that I loved Dustin, and it was because of Billie.

My thoughts were muddled, but my heart wanted nothing more than to be close to him. I wanted so much to feel the way I had last night, to be swept away by the storm. Gathering my nerves, I took his unshaved face in my hands, closing my eyes and leaning toward him to taste his soft lips once again. It was all I needed to be sure, and then I could know what it was I felt, for him and for Dustin.

His hands circled my wrists and he pushed me away gently. My eyes flew open in surprise.
Was he rejecting me now? What the fuck was going on?

"No, Gen. As much as I would love to kiss you, that's not the answer I need from you. You have to dig a little deeper than that."

Fuck him. Fuck him!! I jerked my wrists away from him, my cheeks flaming. I was beyond humiliated. To open myself up to him that way, and then be pushed away...

"Gen, it isn't right. You know it." I held my hand up to him, holding back the words I didn't want to hear. But they came anyway. "You have to decide. If you want him, then this can't happen. Not now, not later. And if you don't, then you need to tell him. But I won't be your guilty secret."

"Take me home, Billie," I said between my teeth. "I'm tired of this. You make me feel like a fucking paddle ball, pulling me in and then smacking me away. I can't deal with this."

"You don't have to. You can do whatever you want," he said coldly. The car fishtailed in the wet grass as he stepped on the accelerator. I sat with my arms folded, staring out the window as we made our way back to campus, and when we reached the dorm, I jerked the door open as soon as the car stopped moving. The rain was still beating down, plastering my hair to my face and sticking my clothes to me as I stood on the sidewalk.

Billie leaned across the seat and looked up at me intently. "Think about this, Gen. Think about it hard."

I shut the door and ran up the sidewalk. "I will," I muttered under my breath. "I sure as hell can't think about anything else."