Julian

I. January, Ch. 9

     Roger turned his paper bag upside down over the lunch table. Hard candies landed on the surface, making a clatter as they fell. He shepherded the candies into a pile and popped the tab on his can of Coke. "Would you stop making a fuss over it? Marlo won't know."

     Calvin twisted up his face at Roger's lunch. It was another thing robbing him of his appetite. Friday evening was weighing on his conscience. "I don't like keeping secrets from family."

     "You could have taken the opportunity to meet women."

     "I want nothing to do with the company that woman keeps. I lost sight of my goal, but I'm one-hundred percent dedicated to Marlo now."

     Roger stuffed his mouth with candies. "Whatever you say."

     Calvin opened his thermos and took a gulp of Tang. "I mean, I can tolerate extroverts, but you have to be a bully, too? I can't go for that."

     "For crying out loud, no one's asking you to marry her."

     Calvin raised his voice. "Marry her? Don't get me started. She has these bizarre ideas about marriage. You should have heard her talk about it like it was some new religion."

     Roger adjusted his neck. "Cal, we only get an hour for lunch. Can we not spend it talking about someone you barely know?"

     Calvin rubbed his forehead. Even he didn't know where all his anger came from. "You're right. I shouldn't let her get to me."

     "Yes, now let's eat."

     Calvin brought one of his sandwich halves to his mouth. He opened his mouth to take a bite, but stopped halfway. "I just wonder if anyone's called her out on her garbage."

     Roger groaned.

     He ate the rest of his lunch ignoring Calvin as he ranted.

     After a few minutes of white-nose ranting, Roger perked up like a deer picking up on human footsteps. "What day is it?"

     "Monday. Why?"

     Roger checked his watch. "Damn. I have a one-on-one with Bruce."

     "Bruce?"

     Roger jammed his trash into the paper bag, grabbed his coat, and finished the rest of his soda standing up. "Bruce Cassles, my protégé. I have to go."

     By the time Calvin looked up from his ham and cheese, Roger was gone.

     Calvin couldn't figure out where his anger came from. He dealt with women like Genevieve at UCLA, the type who were enthusiastic about asking for favors, which often went unreciprocated. The more attractive they were, the higher the chances this would happen.

     He was regaining his hunger when the sound of high heels walking into the teacher's lounge got his attention.

     Genevieve entered the room with a thin stack of folders under her arm and a bundle of keys in her hand. 

     Calvin's eyes drank her in. Why was she making his mission so difficult?

     No. Ignore her and she'll be gone. He looked down at his sandwich, pretending not to have noticed her arrival.

     Calvin felt a presence in the chair next to him. He didn't have to look up to know who it was.

     Genevieve set her things down on Calvin's table. She rested her chin on her hand, watching Calvin like a child. "Hi, Tang."

     Go away. "Can I help you?"

     Genevieve reached for the other half of Calvin's sandwich and took a generous bite. "I asked around about that bottle of Sauvignon Blanc you brought over. Where did you get it?"

     He couldn't believe what he saw from the corner of his eye. You're almost forty. Stop acting like a kid.

     "Are you a wine connoisseur? I could use a man like you in my circle."

     Use.

     "Tang?"

     Calvin's nostrils flared. His jaw stuck out as he tried to adjust it. He blinked slowly and exhaled. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene.

     She grabbed his thermos and peaked inside. "I should have known. Why don't you drink coffee like the rest of us?"

     It was the last straw. Years of bullying and let's-just-be-friends's pressure-cooked until they exploded. He dropped his sandwich and looked into her femme fatale eyes. "Why don't you get your own?"

     She pulled herself back a bit. "Woah, easy, tiger. Don't get ticked at me for your taste in baby food."

     Calvin felt his muscles on his neck contracting. "So this is why you're single? Because there isn't a man on this planet who wants to put up with your smart mouth?"

     Genevieve's smile evaporated. That chipper spark she carried herself with was gone with it. "What did you say?"

     Calvin found leftover bravery underneath his patience. He wasn't going to be a pushover any longer. "Is this how you treat gentlemen who stand up for you against little boys who take your coffee or is that exclusive to women of your lifestyle?"

     "Women of my lifestyle?"

     "Yes, women of your lifestyle. Women who think it's okay to push around men they find weak. That is how you think of me, don't you?"

     She said nothing.

     "That's what I thought," said Calvin.

     Genevieve wiped her mouth and leaned across the table, darting her wicked glare at Calvin. "You're wrong."

     "Oh, am I?" 

     Am I?

     "I only invite close friends to my home, the same one that cost me my blood, sweat, and tears. And you were one of them."

     He crossed his arms over the table and looked away.

     "I suppose you think I got fired from my sales job for being a lesbian, right?"

     Calvin was out of bravery, but found more embarrassment than he knew what to do with. He wanted the ground under him to open and swallow him whole.

     "I lost my job because a so-called 'gentleman' couldn't stand to see me make money. That, and I turned down his advances. Is that how men usually behave or is it just these 'gentlemen' that you speak of?"

     Genevieve stood from her chair, looking down at Calvin with the same sadness she wore the day he met her. "You know, if I ever misbehaved with you, it's because I thought we were friends."

     Wait, you're leaving?

     "Enjoy your lunch," she said.

     She gathered her things and marched out of the room. 

     Calvin did nothing except look down at the red lipstick marks she left on the white bread.

     Her words taunted Calvin's phony bravado. He ran his hand down his humiliated face, ordering his emotions to return to their proper places. This is why you're alone, Calvin Leblanc.

     He was sure of two things: She'd tell Marlo about his misbehaving, and he'd never have those electrifying blue eyes stare at him the same way again. It was the former that worried him, and the latter that broke his heart.