Don't Forget to Be the Way You Are
Five
Conversation was minimal on the drive to Brian's place. It wasn't that he didn't wish to talk to Amelie, but finding something to say was proving impossible. He thought about asking if she lived local now, but the thought upset him too much. He was reminded of when she moved to America. When he thought he'd never see her again. He was almost right, had it not been for Stefan pulling her out of a hat as he had.
They were almost on his street; the small talk provided by his directions helped to ease his nerves just a little but in the back of his mind was a serious question.
Did she want him to ask her to stay?
Not all night, obviously, but Brian imagined she might like a coffee and that by the time she was settled into his couch, they’d both have warmed up to one another a little more. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous around her. He wanted to tell himself that it was obvious she wanted to come inside, because she’d said she’d wanted to talk to him but then… why hadn’t she just talked to him in the car? She wasn’t to know for sure that he’d invite her inside, and then she’d have lost her chance. Or maybe she was just as nervous as he was.
A frightening thought tore its way through Brian’s head as she pulled the car into a spot not too far from his apartment building. What if she got the wrong idea? He didn’t mean to flatter himself, but it had happened in the past with a few people. Once he felt so awkward explaining that by coffee he’d actually meant coffee that he went half-way through with it before he got up the courage to explain himself.
And then… he thought, much sadder this time… what if she didn’t want to stay? What if she’d only dropped him off to save Stefan the trouble? What if he was ruining her night? What if she wanted to say no but out of common courtesy, told him yes? He didn’t want her to feel obliged to spend any time with him.
“Brian?”
“Hmm?”
“I said do you mind if I come up for a coffee?” Brian visibly relaxed as the question was taken from his care and placed with someone else, someone who knew exactly how to word it.
Brian watched Amelie tentatively from his place in the kitchen as she wandered around his apartment a little, swinging her handbag gently around her legs as she stood with her feet crossed and on the sides of her shoes.
"You have a nice place, Brian. Your record collection is looking much better these days. I remember one night when all we could find was ABBA.”
“And that was Stefan's record I’d stolen.” They both let out a giggle before she returned to him in the kitchen just as the coffee was done.
"Tw-"
"Two and a half sugars with a splash of milk," Brian said, beating her to it. "Did you forget how much coffee we used to drink together?" She smirked, taking the mug from Brian and having a sip.
"You always make it a little too sweet." Brian smiled. He recalled that she never seemed to mind.
Amelie walked back into Brian’s lounge room but passed the couch to take a seat on the rug in front of the radiator. Brian joined her down on the floor, not wanting to seem so far away up on the couch, and figured he’d worry about any sore joints later.
"You never called me." Just like that, it was the worst possible outcome. He couldn’t very well get up now and put some distance between them, laugh it off and tell her how long a day it had been. She was right there, in agonising detail, staring across at him as she gripped her mug so tight the corners of her nail varnish were beginning to chip. She was coming on too heavy. He didn't have the heart to have this conversation with her tonight.
“Amelie…” Brian warned, his eyes leaving hers. He was worried of what might come out of him. Not the truth, no, certainly not the truth of it all. It hardly mattered anymore, anyway.
"I gave you my number before I left and you promised you'd call. You never did. Not once. Not even to leave a message." An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Brian licked his lips, trying to find the right set of excuses to give her. Though she deserved more than excuses... he simply couldn't let her in like that. Not then, not now… not ever. No one had to know, least of all her. He’d only embarrass himself. It was like the fish that loved a bird.
"I lost it." That felt so much easier to say than to admit he'd thrown it away. He'd gone looking for it the next day, of course, once the regret set in. But in the end, it had been the best thing for them. He had been falling in love, and she had not. He often wondered if she knew.
"Bullshit." She wasn't angry... more hurt, beyond what seemed Brian’s comprehension. She’d wanted him to simply acknowledge how stupid it seemed to sever ties with someone because you cared about them so much so that it hurt to think about having to let them go. She’d been in the same situation, after all. It hadn’t been easy, getting on that plane. She recalled all the encouragement Brian had given her and how sick she’d made herself thinking that he’d simply wanted her out of his life.
"I can't do this right now," Brian admitted, putting his coffee down before he spilt it everywhere with his shaking hands. Amelie's cup was soon beside his on the coffee table and she was getting up to leave. She looked at Brian for a moment, unashamed of the tears welling in her eyes as he wouldn't acknowledge her feelings, or even look her in the eye. Perhaps he'd changed more than she first thought. She remembered how he’d look right into her, reaching to the very corners of her mind and understanding her in ways she wasn’t sure she understood herself. But everyone changes. She couldn’t be so naïve.
Brian didn’t bother getting up as he heard the door to his apartment close with a slight thud, not that she’d been trying to slam it, but more that she’d needed to get out of there almost as fast as Brian had needed her gone. He curled up on the rug where he sat, holding his knees gently against his chest as he let a few tears slip from his eyes. Their coffee was still warm.
They were almost on his street; the small talk provided by his directions helped to ease his nerves just a little but in the back of his mind was a serious question.
Did she want him to ask her to stay?
Not all night, obviously, but Brian imagined she might like a coffee and that by the time she was settled into his couch, they’d both have warmed up to one another a little more. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous around her. He wanted to tell himself that it was obvious she wanted to come inside, because she’d said she’d wanted to talk to him but then… why hadn’t she just talked to him in the car? She wasn’t to know for sure that he’d invite her inside, and then she’d have lost her chance. Or maybe she was just as nervous as he was.
A frightening thought tore its way through Brian’s head as she pulled the car into a spot not too far from his apartment building. What if she got the wrong idea? He didn’t mean to flatter himself, but it had happened in the past with a few people. Once he felt so awkward explaining that by coffee he’d actually meant coffee that he went half-way through with it before he got up the courage to explain himself.
And then… he thought, much sadder this time… what if she didn’t want to stay? What if she’d only dropped him off to save Stefan the trouble? What if he was ruining her night? What if she wanted to say no but out of common courtesy, told him yes? He didn’t want her to feel obliged to spend any time with him.
“Brian?”
“Hmm?”
“I said do you mind if I come up for a coffee?” Brian visibly relaxed as the question was taken from his care and placed with someone else, someone who knew exactly how to word it.
Brian watched Amelie tentatively from his place in the kitchen as she wandered around his apartment a little, swinging her handbag gently around her legs as she stood with her feet crossed and on the sides of her shoes.
"You have a nice place, Brian. Your record collection is looking much better these days. I remember one night when all we could find was ABBA.”
“And that was Stefan's record I’d stolen.” They both let out a giggle before she returned to him in the kitchen just as the coffee was done.
"Tw-"
"Two and a half sugars with a splash of milk," Brian said, beating her to it. "Did you forget how much coffee we used to drink together?" She smirked, taking the mug from Brian and having a sip.
"You always make it a little too sweet." Brian smiled. He recalled that she never seemed to mind.
Amelie walked back into Brian’s lounge room but passed the couch to take a seat on the rug in front of the radiator. Brian joined her down on the floor, not wanting to seem so far away up on the couch, and figured he’d worry about any sore joints later.
"You never called me." Just like that, it was the worst possible outcome. He couldn’t very well get up now and put some distance between them, laugh it off and tell her how long a day it had been. She was right there, in agonising detail, staring across at him as she gripped her mug so tight the corners of her nail varnish were beginning to chip. She was coming on too heavy. He didn't have the heart to have this conversation with her tonight.
“Amelie…” Brian warned, his eyes leaving hers. He was worried of what might come out of him. Not the truth, no, certainly not the truth of it all. It hardly mattered anymore, anyway.
"I gave you my number before I left and you promised you'd call. You never did. Not once. Not even to leave a message." An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Brian licked his lips, trying to find the right set of excuses to give her. Though she deserved more than excuses... he simply couldn't let her in like that. Not then, not now… not ever. No one had to know, least of all her. He’d only embarrass himself. It was like the fish that loved a bird.
"I lost it." That felt so much easier to say than to admit he'd thrown it away. He'd gone looking for it the next day, of course, once the regret set in. But in the end, it had been the best thing for them. He had been falling in love, and she had not. He often wondered if she knew.
"Bullshit." She wasn't angry... more hurt, beyond what seemed Brian’s comprehension. She’d wanted him to simply acknowledge how stupid it seemed to sever ties with someone because you cared about them so much so that it hurt to think about having to let them go. She’d been in the same situation, after all. It hadn’t been easy, getting on that plane. She recalled all the encouragement Brian had given her and how sick she’d made herself thinking that he’d simply wanted her out of his life.
"I can't do this right now," Brian admitted, putting his coffee down before he spilt it everywhere with his shaking hands. Amelie's cup was soon beside his on the coffee table and she was getting up to leave. She looked at Brian for a moment, unashamed of the tears welling in her eyes as he wouldn't acknowledge her feelings, or even look her in the eye. Perhaps he'd changed more than she first thought. She remembered how he’d look right into her, reaching to the very corners of her mind and understanding her in ways she wasn’t sure she understood herself. But everyone changes. She couldn’t be so naïve.
Brian didn’t bother getting up as he heard the door to his apartment close with a slight thud, not that she’d been trying to slam it, but more that she’d needed to get out of there almost as fast as Brian had needed her gone. He curled up on the rug where he sat, holding his knees gently against his chest as he let a few tears slip from his eyes. Their coffee was still warm.