Commit This to Memory

I’m grinning like a fucking idiot.

I can’t help it. I’m on a plane to California, thinking about what would happen once I got off the plane. I feel elated, the world is my bitch. I can’t remember a time when I last felt like this. Well, actually, I can. But that elation didn’t last very long, and I felt horrible afterwards and I was in the hospital.

Rephrase, I can’t remember the last time I felt this good sober. Stupid technicalities.

“What are so happy about?” The woman next to me asks. She looks my age, maybe a little younger, blond, and her features would have looked washed out if her makeup wasn’t so dramatic. Her eyes were framed in black, yellow, and red and her lips were painted a deep crimson. All together it made her look rather striking, but it would have looked horrible on someone else. “Did you get an acting call or something?”

“No,” I laugh. “I’m on my way to tell my ex-girlfriend and mother of my son that she did me the biggest favor by fucking up my life.” I sound crazy. I still can’t stop fucking smiling.

The lady looks confused. I don’t blame her. So I explain that because she ruined my life I now have a kick ass job doing what I love and if it hadn’t been for her nothing in my life would have happened. And as fucked up as my life has thus far been, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. (Well, maybe there are some things I wish I could do over, like not losing my temper and kicking Betty out, either time.)

To my relief after I explain, she stops looking like she’s sitting next to someone insane and unstable. “Well, I guess you do have a reason to be happy,” she says. “I’m Kaylee be the way. Spelled ‘kay’ like the jewelry company; ‘lee’ like Bruce Lee, if you ever find the need to write my name down.”

“I’m Justin, no special spelling.” We both smile.

We end up talking the whole flight. As it turns out this Kaylee person is very cool. Any other time I would have wanted her to be my girlfriend. But my eyes are set on Betty right now. It doesn’t even cross my mind that my plan wouldn’t work.

When we get off the plane she invites me to stay at her house. It’s 4 o’clock in the morning. I think that’s why I agree. I really shouldn’t have.

She tries to kiss me on her living room couch. Her lips barely touch mine when she pulls away and starts apologizing. “Shit, I’m sorry,” she mutters, blushing. “I don’t know why I did that.” Kaylee looks away a few moments then says, “Actually I do. You’re a really nice guy Justin. I haven’t really known a lot of nice guys. I just…” She trails off.

“I’m not a nice guy,” I say. “I’m actually an asshole. Did you miss my whole story on the plane?” She chuckles weakly, which was kind of what I wanted. “On the other hand though a nice guy wouldn’t let you do this, and I won’t. And an asshole would go with it. So I guess I just defeated my own argument. And I like you. I really do and if the circumstances were different I’d love to keep kissing you. I just can’t.”

I get up to go but she grabs my arm. “Stay please,” her eyes are shining with tears. “I’m sorry. I was being stupid. Don’t go.”

This all feels strangely surreal, like I stepped into a movie. There are lines and cues, and an audience filled with women. My life has become a chick flick. How the fuck did this happen?
I don’t go. She leads me to her room and asks me to hold her until we fall asleep. I do. I wonder if this is right or wrong. If I should be doing this. If I’m leading her on. I suppose I am. I’ll just have to deal with that in the morning.
_________________
When I wake up I’m sprawled across the bed. My jeans feel distorted and uncomfortable. Kaylee is hanging onto a small section of her bed and I feel guilty. I spread out and roll around when I sleep, not much I can do about that.
I try to get out of bed without waking her; maybe if I can just sneak out I won’t have to deal with it. But she starts to stir as soon as I move.
“Morning,” she mumbles sleepily.
“Mmm,” I reply settling back down. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Sleep okay?”
“Yeah it was great.”
“Good.” She sits up and stretches. “I’ll go make us some coffee.” When she’s gone I sit up and straighten my clothes. I run my hands through my messy hair. I should have left when I had the chance.

My phone rings, it’s Josh. It’s always Josh.

“Where the fuck are you?” He demands as soon as I answer it.

“California.”

“You’re where?”

“California, I told you I was coming here.”
“No you didn’t.”

“Yeah I did!” I’m angry that he always is so quick to find my flaws. Especially when I didn’t deserve it.

“No you said you were going home. Last time I checked you lived in Minnesota, not California.”

“Well the thing I said I had to do ended up being over here.”

“You’re not talking about who I think you’re talking about are you?” He sounds worried.

“I’m just going to apologize to her and thank her for it all.”

“Why do you do this?” Josh sighs. I feel bad for him, trying to take care of someone like me and trying to keep up with my brain. He really shouldn’t have to.

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I just can’t seem to let her go. I can’t let her go on thinking she fucked up when she really did me a favor.”

“What favor was that?”

“She introduced me to you, not directly of course. But remember that gig we met at? I wouldn’t have gone if she hadn’t convinced me. She’s pretty much the whole reason this happened.”

“I think it’s a little much to call her the whole reason,” Josh says slowly. “We probably would have met at one point or another, but I do see what you’re getting at.” He sighs again.

“Last time I’ll do this I promise.”

“You’ve promised a lot of things over the years Justin.”

“This time I mean it!” And I want to mean it so bad. “Don’t give up on me completely yet.”

We hang up just as Kaylee comes back holding to steaming mugs of coffee. “So you never said the name of this girl you’re looking for,” she says.

“Bethany Evans,” I mutter. The name is bittersweet on my tongue.

She drops the mugs, ignoring both the mess and the scalding liquid on her feet. “You’re looking for Bethany? The artist right?” I nod slowly. “Holy shit! You must be that guy then! Oh my god!” She’s pacing the room now. “Holy fuck.”

“Is this a big deal?” I’m lost as to what she’s rambling about.

“Well it sure explains a lot, like Charlie-” I wince at the mention of my son. “And why she won’t talk about Minnesota.”

“So wait you know her?”

“Yeah I’m her assistant.”

What a small fucking world.

“Your last name would happen to start with a ‘P’ would it?” She asks suddenly. I nod again. “Thought so, you’ve got a painting dedicated to you. An interesting one to say the least, no one has actually seen the original, we just sell the prints.” She then goes on to describe the painting.

“Oh,” I say. “That’s in my living room.”

Kaylee stares at me in shock for a moment and then says, “Well I guess that makes sense.”

“What was that crash?” A voice calls from outside the room. It sounds familiar to me but I don’t know why.

“I just dropped something Tony. Come here you have to meet this guy.”

“Antonia!” I gasp as she enters the room.

Her eyes narrow dangerously and she coolly says, “Justin.”

“You two know each other?” Kaylee asks obviously confused.

“You could say that,” Antonia answers. I flush; this is probably the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in. “Be careful with this boy Kay, he’s been known to fuck and run.”

“We didn’t,” I say indignantly. “And I didn’t run. You broke up with me. My leaving was entirely justified.”

“We broke up because you couldn’t commit to anything and were never around.”

“I’m in a band, forgive me if we have to tour sometimes! You never let me anyway. I couldn’t get close to you at all.”

“You didn’t even fucking try to get close. I was just someone you could hide behind.”

That part is true. But in my defense she made it very easy for me to hide.

Kaylee clears her throat to remind us that she is in fact still in the room.

“Whatever,” Antonia mutters. “Just stay the fuck away from me.”

“I was,” I call as she leaves. I glance over at Kaylee and say “Surprise” because I can’t think of anything else to say.

“That was a little awkward,” she says. Like she needs to tell me.

“Maybe I should just go. It’s only going to get more awkward the longer I stay," I say. I almost want her to tell me to stay that it’s fine but she nods in agreement.

“I’ll give you Beth’s address and let her know you’re coming,” she mutters.

“No,” I say. “Don’t let her know I’m coming, she probably doesn’t want to talk to me.” I stare at the bedroom door Antonia stormed through. “Story of my life.”