Crazy About My Best Friend Read online

  “I know, you don’t ever change. I got it the first time.”

  “That’s different,” he said. “Anyway, it’s cool. I just don’t care as much about career and politics.”

  “Yeah I know and that’s my life now. It’s really all I do care about, David. Making a difference in the world. And if you’re happy playing video games and listening to music…”

  “I listen to music because I work at a record store,” he said with a mean little snarling laugh. “You think my career is so pathetic? How judgmental of you.”

  “That’s not what I said, David. It was nice seeing you again.”

  “Yeah right. Hope Mister Scott gives it to you good, hon. Really good.”

  I shot him an angry face but he turned away, ignoring me. I don’t necessary regret anything I said back then, and he probably didn’t either. I really just wanted the path I was on at the time and I felt—quite frankly as I do now—he was exhibiting signs of jealousy. Jealous of what, I wasn’t sure…

  But again, when you’re under a love-lust spell, you don’t care much about the consequences. I know it sounds a bit cold-hearted, but what I was actually thinking at the time following our friendship spat was…

  Gee David if you are so jealous of my red-hot sex life maybe you should find one of your own. I could even give you some pointers on how to make your girlfriend very happy!

  Naturally, weeks turned into months and David began to realize we didn’t have much in common besides our workaholic tendencies and appetite for raw naked sex. I was a little miffed at first when I felt him wandering away from me…but as I thought it over, I realized that I didn’t really know him. And that wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t need to beg for his attention. I just needed to accept it as the experiment that it was and move on.

  I still had a “fetish” for political minded men, I admit. I saw a few more guys serious about their careers and political aspirations, though to Mister Scott’s credit, none of them were nearly as interested in bed. I think the man really did spoil me.

  But please don’t feel sorry for lonely heart David. He definitely made up for those years of awkward teenage celibacy when he decided that stewing in a jealous rage was really no fun compared to the alternative.

  Chapter 4:David

  I smiled at Amelia, totally at peace with myself…for once. I admit I was insanely jealous for a while and truth be told half of that was probably sexual repression doing most of the talking. When I found out that chasing after women and talking them into bed wasn’t THAT hard to do, I eased up on Amelia and really wanted to go back to the way things were. I missed my friend and thankfully within a year she didn’t have that air of arrogance that she carried before.

  We got together for brunch and enjoyed chatting about old times. I ordered the Hawaiian pizza and she ordered the eggplant parmesan. She was much more relaxed and so was I. It was like we were connecting…or something close to it.

  “So you don’t see pretty boy anymore?”

  “Oh Mister Scott? Nah, that ended a long time ago.”

  “You still call him that?” he laughed.

  “Yeah,” she laughed with me. “Probably because he’s like a running joke in my mind. Kind of full of himself and not really worth knowing on a first name basis.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, with squinting eyes…though this time I wasn’t clutching my fists in rage. Not after having intense office sex with Katherine, my latest crush I met in the break room. After taking a sexual pummeling from the hottest woman on Level 1, in the very same office chair I took escalated calls from, you learn to get over shit and not take rejection so personally, I tell you that.

  “And yet you gave him so much…lucky guy that man was.”

  “Oh yeah right,” she said in sarcasm. “I trust you’re getting some, David, since you seem so mellow compared to a year ago.

  “I can’t complain,” I said with a dignified but secretive smile.

  “Yeah, and funny that I won’t harass you about your arrogance or how you’re becoming a smug asshole. See how that works?”

  I laughed and wore a shit-eating grin. At least she was smiling and wasn’t actually vengeful. “I admit…being a virgin back then, did sort of warp my perspective.”

  “Uh huh. Well I’m glad you’re happier now.”

  “Yeah I am. I think good office sex really cheers a-”

  “David, don’t!” she said, furling her brow in warning. “I don’t want to hear your porno descriptions. For God’s sake, don’t men hold anything sacred anymore?”

  “You’re right, I’m too smug. Sorry…” I laughed and waited for her to smile in acceptance. “What about you? Are you happy?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a sigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’m really getting over the whole political volunteering thing.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Yes and you don’t have to rub it in.”

  “No such intention, Miss Baxter. Can I call you Miss Baxter? Or are we on first name basis?”

  “Silly, don’t ever be formal with me!”

  “Okay, Amelia it is.”

  “Yeah…I just think I’ve chased after career for so long but now that I’m getting to the top of the hill…it’s like I don’t want it. Or maybe I do want it, I don’t know. What are you doing?”

  “Actually I did a total career change. And who knows, maybe it was because of what you said.”

  “What did I say?”

  “That taunt about my job in the record store.”

  “I wasn’t taunting you, silly.”

  “I know…I just…realized I wasn’t happy. So I started getting into selling supplements and vitamins. A brand called Tranquility LTD. I started as a temp for them one day, but then sort of fell into the sales division over the first year. They really liked me a lot because I took the time to talk to the athletes. And they were a good team so I felt like I was going somewhere.”

  “And you still enjoy it?”

  “Oh yeah. Those guys make it a fun environment, you know? You can tell the boss really cares about everyone. We even have this new thing called staff vacations. We’re all seriously pitching in so we can go to Aruba.”

  She laughed respectfully. “That’s kinda’ neat.”

  “Yeah,” I said, studying her face and finally detecting a glimmer of jealousy. Although it hurt to me to realize she wasn’t jealous of my body or my sex life…just my career. She envied my career. That was kind of an ego kick right there.

  Of course, there was still a part of me that was unwholesomely dreaming of Amelia—if for no other reason than because she was single. Maybe I was obsessing over it, but she seemed to be single and unhappy. I think, quite literally, what happened was that my salesperson personality kicked in and I wanted to “fulfill her needs” however I could. But she was smart enough to know that we were definitely not in the same “market”.

  “Well…I heard you’re single again.”

  “Single and confused, yeah. The story of my life,” Amelia said with a soft laugh.

  “Well you know, Amelia, if you ever need…”

  “No thanks,” she said spitefully but still with a smile. “But thanks for the offer.”

  I laughed. “I wasn’t saying that.”

  “Uh huh, sure. I know what you’re thinking. I always have had that uncanny ability.”

  “I was just going to say I deal with vitamins and supplements. But I also give natural doses of oxytocin and endorphins. Great for headache relief.”

  “How generous of you!” she said with a laugh. “And what is the delivery method of that, David? Capsules? ”

  “Well…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  Oral, topicalsolution or manual insertion, your choice. Oh, don’t say it. She already left my eyes and is uncomfortable talking about it. Damn, that might have gotten a laugh…I have really bad timing sometimes.

  I stared at her, losing my smile and s
ensing her inner dissatisfaction. My natural instinct was to heal her, help her in some way. But what did I have to offer her, assuming of course, she didn’t want a one night stand with her old friend—that kind of thing could ruin the one valuable asset we had together. Trust.

  “I don’t think happiness is a real thing,” she said, changing the subject quickly. “I think it’s more like a condition we make ourselves feel. We convince ourselves we’re happy with our decisions.”

  “You think so?” I said, still eying her lips and feeling forbidden feelings. Maybe the fact that I was more sexually experienced only fueled my curiosity. Or maybe simply seeing Amelia in a state of unhappiness triggered something in me.

  “Yeah I think I do. I mean do these jobs and date these guys…but they always seem to be the types that I convince myself I want. Office jobs, political or city jobs. The truth is I just want some stability in life. Is that so wrong to ask for?”

  “No, not really.”

  “You might not understand,” she said with a squint. “You seem to enjoy the wild gypsy life lately.”

  “No…I mean…”

  “But all I want is someone that…”

  “Yeah? Go on.”

  “Someone who’s honest,” she said with a smile. “Fun…but not too crazy. Happy. Motivated in their career. And maybe even…a little prickly on the edges.”

  I laughed in uncertainty. She seemed to be describing me. I bit my tongue, short of saying So why don’t I qualify again?

  “Well Amelia…”

  “I guess that’s too many qualities to ask for though, right?”

  “No, not at all. But I guess looks are a big requirement too. Right?”

  I figured maybe she wanted someone like me, but someone cuter or with a different body type. Maybe it was this weird displacement thing where she was looking for my personality in a more handsome man’s body. I mean, it’s not like she just said, “I want a man opposite of you, David. She seemed to be describing me. Could she had been sending that as a hidden message? To test if I was interested in her?”

  “Well Amelia…”

  She interrupted. “I’m just glad I have you as a friend, David. It’s nice to have someone I can spend time with and not have to worry about him trying to get into my pants.”

  “Oh. Right, of course, buddy.” Damn, I just friend-zoned her.

  I didn’t even mean to say it, but the way she smiled at me seemed to communicate the feeling Thank You. As in, Thank you for not being like all the other guys. Thank you for staying a friend and nothing more.

  It was kind of a lousy feeling but one I had to bite down on. It seemed that whenever I got bold enough to say something she would send me all these missiles of doubt, making sure I got the point that I don’t want to embarrass myself.

  I don’t know, but at that moment, as I hugged her in a feeling of pure platonic love for all the years we had suffered, I knew what was most important. Giving her what she needed. And friendship was what Amelia needed.

  Chapter 5:Amelia

  David certainly got over his fear of women quickly into his late twenties and for a time even got his own wingman in his moronic friend Jake, who had the greasiest haircut I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen a man who overcompensated being Italian. The only other thing he could possibly do to convince people he was Italian was to surround himself with guys in suits and munch on a calzone!

  Which he did one night, ironically enough. He went to the newest Italian restaurant and bar, Adolfo’s, and this time he brought along with him everyone’s favorite non-threatening and jocular white guy, David.

  It was quite the surreal scene to see these two boys clubbing…but an even stranger sight to imagine me there as some sort of backup girl. It wasn’t just David or Jake. They brought along three other friends, one other girl, and myself, and went to a rather long table shoot the breeze. At first, I admit I was on guard, and thinking something was up. But the only reason I went was because I trusted David. With all we had been through I knew that he would be the last guy in the world to try anything sleazy. The man had a great deal of respect for me and that’s what kept me coming to him year in and year out.

  Jake on the other hand, was a ridiculous sight for sore eyes.

  “I’m just saying, in the zombie apocalypse,” Jake said, buzzed after four beers. “I would be a valuable asset. Because I can cook, I can fight and I can lead.”

  “I don’t think people need leaders in the apocalypse, they need land and weapons,” said a friend.

  “Yeah, but leadership and poise is the greatest weapon of all.”

  “No way! You need lots of guns and preferably lots of bombs. I mean, how many zombies are we talking about?”

  “Come on, David, back me up on this. Who is more valuable to a group in a doomsdays apocalypse? A wise leader or a guy with lots of land and guns?”

  David laughed and paused, actually giving Jake’s ridiculous question serious thought. “I tend to agree leadership is more important. The weapons are nothing if the leader doesn’t take the right road. The group wants peace, they need someone to lead.”

  Within a few minutes of debate, eventually the group asked me—the resident “girl” I guess they thought of me—and probably hoped I would back up Jake’s thesis. However, if they were asking me honestly…

  “I think the entire question is flawed. Leadership and commodity mean nothing if they are both squandered by people who don’t know the first thing about survivalism.”

  Some of the guys booed and Jake kept cracking jokes, but since I was already this far, I figured I might as well elaborate on why the entire conversation was stupid and flawed from the start. Jake did, after all, ask for my token opinion.

  “I think seriously none of you would last beyond a week.” More boos and laughter. “None of you have any concept of survivalist skills. None of you have a high threshold of pain.”

  Just as I said that I caught David looking at me. He was smiling a bit softly, staring into my eyes. He had the opposite of every other guy’s expression at the table. One of pride and joy. He wasn’t teasing me or arguing but just listening, as if my words were the only thing making the conversation interesting.

  “What do you think, David?” I asked him with a smile. By now we had both finished three beers and were feeling a little buzzed. We both seemed doubly calm and slightly bored with the conversation.

  “What do I think about the end of the world?” He shrugged. “You’re right. None of these guys would make it. I think you and I would make it though.”

  I laughed. “Oh really? Why us?”

  “Because…we both have high thresholds of pain.”

  I giggled again. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because we’ve both felt the pain of love not turning out the way we thought it would.”

  I gradually lost my smile but I kept staring at him.

  “That’s huge emotional pain. Hell, if I can accept losing a girl I loved…” he said drunkenly, not really looking at me, “I can survive zombie invasion, no problem.”

  “Uh huh…” I said, still meeting his face and wondering for just a moment. Who was he talking about? I almost wondered for a moment if he was talking about…not about…me?

  By now the rest of the guys were joking and laughing it up and not paying attention to us anymore. Jake was rambling on about zombie boobs or something like that. But my attention was focused on David who seemed uncharacteristically vacant. Almost nostalgic or sad.

  “And this girl that you loved and lost…” I said with a defensive smile, not trying to embarrass him by implying I thought it was me. “Did she break your heart completely?”

  “No, of course not,” he said losing my eyes and finishing off another bottle. “It’s never too late. Amelia.”

  He met my eyes again and the thought stung me harshly. I almost felt like crying. Almost felt like kissing him. Almost felt like saying, Can you please clarify what the fuck you’re talking about and stop sp
eaking in code?

  He looked at me and half-smiled, but wasn’t saying anything. What was he thinking? It was a strange moment that I can’t explain. But at that moment it felt like we were looking at each other for the first time. Feeling each other’s pain. Thinking back to the past, every moment of the past, trying to determine if we missed something.

  What did I miss, David? When did you ever tell me that you loved me, when did you ever imply it?

  I looked away from him and took another drink. The cheerful mood suddenly changed. We both knew it and we couldn’t even look at each other. To look into each other’s eyes again would require revisiting those thoughts—those maddening thoughts of Do you love me or not?

  What are you trying to say? If you were in love with this girl who broke your heart why didn’t you tell me about her? Why am I under the impression you’re this guy who is on top of the world and happy dating all these other women? Correct me if I’m wrong!

  I kept rolodexing various topics, hoping to change the subject, but nothing felt worthy of speaking out loud. I hated casual conversation, especially if that’s not what either of us were thinking. I even looked at him again, trying to force myself into saying something—anything! I was caught in a trance of uncertainty.

  He looked at me and shrugged. And smiled.

  What the fuck did that mean? He didn’t seem to know either and he took another (huge) drink probably to avoid looking at me again. But damn him, he owed me an explanation.

  Then, just as I was ready to say something, Jake, that dimwit ruined the moment.

  “Hey, David! Come on with me, you fucking greaseball! I got some family business to discuss with you.”

  “Jake, for the last time you’re not true blood Italian.”

  “Fuck you, how’s that for my Italian?”

  Jake laughed and dragged David away from the table, heading towards the restroom. Was Jake really that drunk? He was so hammered he needed a guide so he wouldn’t fall on the floor and piss all over himself? What a douchebag.

  By now I was majorly pissed and sending scowls to all the other guys at the table who saw my “Don’t You Dare!” face and stayed a good five feet away from me at all times. This was not a fun night at all. David really hurt me and I really didn’t want to believe he would do that kind of thing just for fun.