Distance

Danica was taking the college tour far too seriously. She'd even dressed up, looked damn good, respectable. She trailed the tour guide with serious eyes, her purse banging against her hip as she evaluated the buildings surrounding us.

Me, Mike, and Tre, well. We were making complete asses of ourselves in the back of the group. And it was pissing off everyone, including Danica.

When the guide was finished, she stalked off towards the car before we'd even realized we could leave.

If I'd been a photographer, I'd probably have taken a picture of her just then. Head held high, white skirt rippling in the slight breeze, long dark hair tumbling over her shoulders as she marched away. Would have made for a fetching photo, if I do say so myself.

But I just had to spoil it.

She'd been acting all high and mighty all day, so adult and accomplished. And I was fucking sick of it.

I chased after her silently, matching her strides easily. I grabbed her hips. She shrieked as I pulled her off balance, and we tumbled to the ground. I angled the fall so that she'd land on top of me, so that I'd take the impact and protect her precious white skirt from the evil grass stains that lay in wait.

She was less than amused.

We landed well, all things considered. Her solid weight struck me hard in the stomach, and I grunted. We nearly banged heads.

"Billie, what the fuck!" She snapped, trying to pull out of my arms.

I reached upwards for a kiss, and I was sadly disappointed. She shoved me away, glaring.

"You could at least pretend to give a shit about this. I've been excited about seeing colleges for weeks."
"It's too early to be excited."
"It's nearly noon."
"Too damn early." I repeated, staring up at her from the grass.

Her eyes sparked fire. Tre and Mike swept around us, muttering, "We'll get the car" even though we all knew the keys were in my left jacket pocket.

Cowards.

"Danie, I'm sorry, but you know I don't give a shit about college. Hell, I haven't even attempted to finish high school. You've known forever that I'm going to be a musician."
"Yeah, well." She bit her lip, then looked away.

All of a sudden, things were too serious. Or I finally stopped pretending they weren't. Danica's voice was quiet and deadly.

"You know, I think I liked it better when you weren't playing shows. At least you were sober and awake for shit like this, instead of half-cocked."

Too much emphasis on the word 'cock'. She suspected something, and that's what was getting her angry. It had much less to do with my shenanigans than the fact that she thought I was still seeing Jordan.

"If you've got something to say, Danie, then say it." I challenged, brushing the seat of my jeans off. I couldn't help but remember the day I was released from the hospital, and Jordan and I had laid on the grass, wrapped up in each other's jackets, kissing in full view of the world.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd kissed Danica in public.

"All I can say is that you'd better not be fucking around, Billie. Because I think I'll probably kill you...and him."
"Who says it's a him?"
"Those bite marks on your cock." She shot back.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe if you learned how to give a damn blowjob, there wouldn't be bite marks all over my cock."

The college students were scandalized. I don't think they could make up their minds which one of us was the victim of an abusive relationship, and no one was willing to venture a guess. They stood in an awed circle, gaping first at me, and then at Danica, as our insults grew increasingly nasty.

And then, right in the middle of telling Danica exactly what she could stick into her nether regions, it hit me. We'd become one of those couples. The kind of couple who have loud, nasty arguments, air their dirty laundry in public, scream and slap and bitch at each other, because they've got nothing else. They love has come and gone, and all that's left is two angry people who try to make each other cry in front of the world.

I couldn't even finish my sentance. I turned, and walked away.

***

"Billie, I don't think-"
"Can you just shut up and keep kissing me?"

Jordan sighed, and his lips moved ravenously against mine. I moaned, grinding my hips against his. A couple drunks whistled at us.

"I really don't think this is the place-"
"Touch me?"

I'd shocked him, and he wasn't sure whether or not to be pleased about it. The fact is, I needed sex. I was sick to the fucking death of sleeping with Danica, and Jordan, well. Jordan was something new and fresh and entirely, entirely different.

"You know we're in a public place, right? You know people can see us? Or are you too drunk to figure that out?"
"Jordan, can you please just...you know?"

He was grinning, and pulled me inside his overcoat.

His hand was on my cock and I'd never felt anything so good. We were still kissing, and his hand was moving smoothly, just the way I needed it, and the best part was that all these people were watching, and they had no idea what was really going on.

To them, we were just two hot gay guys kissing.

People see what they want to see, which is funny. Because if any of them had looked closely, they'd notice my belt was undone, or that Jordan's arm was moving rhytmically up and down. Just like Danica would have noticed that we never made love anymore, just fucked. That we never talked, just yelled, or that when we weren't yelling we were silent.

We were sick of each other, and we were both just too proud to admit it.

***

"I want to take a break."

She didn't even bat an eyelid.

"Sure."
"Somehow, I expected more of a battle."
"Bah." She slipped her arms around my neck. "When you didn't come home..."
"You're not even pissed?"
"Not as long as I can still crash here."

I shrugged, turned away.

"You're on the couch." She told my back, as she walked into the bedroom.
"It's my apartment!"

She was motionless for a fraction of a second, then shrugged and said, "You like screwing on the floor best anyways."

I couldn't help but chuckle. Her lips quirked into my favorite little half smile. I hadn't seen that smile in ages.

There was a short pause, and I sighed.

"Goddamnit, Danie. Why is it that we get along so much better when we're not a fucking couple?"

Her eyes were sad, but she turned away silently. I felt a sharp pang in my chest, where my heart would be, if my heart hadn't died so many years ago.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." I whispered, so softly even I could barely hear. Somehow, I knew she was tired of hearing it.