Better Than That

six

Raising the coffee cup to my lips, I whispered back, "Nothing did."

❃

The meeting ended in the early afternoon and we were dismissed for the day. Exiting the maze-like corridors, Nick and I walked through the parking lot in silence. Gusts of northern wind howled over the highway and into the city, shaking barren trees like rattling bones in a graveyard.

Just like the old and better days, I sat shotgun with my bag by my feet. As soon as Nick started the engine, I fished out a book and read. Nick, in response, turned up the car stereo to fill the silence. After some toggling, he settled on a melancholic Jay Chou playlist, each song droning on and on about unrequited love and heartbreak. I tried to uphold a poker face despite feeling like I sat on a cushion of needles. Change the goddamn music, I thought. But Nick drove on without touching the stereo again. For the rest of the drive, we sat listening to the saddest love stories of our generation.

When Nick rolled into the parking lot, I was all ready to leap out the window. As soon as the car came to a stop, I gave him a ten-dollar bill with one hand and had the other on the car door.

He glanced at the money yet made no move to take it. "Are you going to be like this from now on?"

"Huh?"

"You're just not going to talk to me anymore?" he demanded, his eyes on me. "If that's how you want things, you should've said no to carpool."

I opened my mouth and then, unable to find the right words, closed it. Finally, I stuffed the bill into the coffee holder and said, "I still want to carpool whenever it's convenient." Feigning a smile, I said, "Message you Monday—"

He grabbed my arm before I could open the door. When I turned around, I was met with his dark eyes. "So you meant it when you said nothing's changed. Does that mean you're willing to truly let what happened go?"

I stared at him, discombobulated. It felt as if I was in the middle of a tacky movie scene, and half of me understood what Nick was implying while the other half refused to accept that meaning.

"That's the right thing to do, isn't it?" I said at last. "We had a few drinks and we had a slip-up. Shit happens, and you let it go."

"Shit happens?" Nick spat, his grip on me tightening. "I thought you liked me!"

His words made me see black for a second. "Are you out of your mind? You have a girlfriend! And I'm not that stupid—"

He let go of my arm. "I'm sick of pretending to be okay with this. I thought acting like nothing happened would be the only way to keep you around, but it's not working. When you sat there reading like I was a taxi driver, I felt like punching a window."

He watched me closely as he went on speaking. "Forget everything I said earlier. I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, I'm not okay with forgetting about 'it'. I've been trying to forget about it, but I can't. It's been replaying in my head." Letting out a long exhale, he said, "There you go. That's what I've been holding in all day."

"It?" I said.

"Yeah, it," he said. "Our kiss."

I winced. "Stop. I don't want to hear it."

"Why?"

"Are you listening to yourself?" I snapped, clutching the strap of my bag like it was the last anchor to reality. "Do you know how wrong this conversation is?"

"I do."

"Then stop it. Stop it now," I said. "Go home and sleep on it. I'm going home and sleeping on it."

"But I don't want to sleep on it," he replied. He rested a hand against the dashboard and aimed his gaze straight at me. "I've been trying to convince myself otherwise, but it's not working anymore: I like you. This feeling refuses to disappear. I think about you all the time since you've been physically gone. I really like you."

I slumped against the car seat, blood rushing through my ears like thunder. My eyes focused on the movement of the lone, quivering leaf on a maple tree outside to keep myself together.

"Please say something—anything. I can't stand this silence."

"You have a girlfriend," I said, chewing on these words. "You have a girlfriend."

"Yes. I'm aware."

"Why did you have to tell me all this? Do you know what this means?" I kept my gaze straight. I couldn't meet his eyes because I knew I was cracking, fraying. When he didn't answer, I heard myself say, "Nick, do you know what this means if I felt the same way as you?"

As soon as these words left me, he slung an arm over my shoulder and kissed me on the mouth. In his arms, I felt a mix of tension and relief. Everything was so wrong but I was slipping away, powerless to pull myself out of the vortex.

When we broke apart, we sat staring into the fall afternoon light for a long time.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered.

"I need a drink," said Nick as he turned on the ignition. He looked at me, "Do you want a drink?"

"Do you have to ask?"

He nodded, backed out of the parking spot and roared down the street. I didn't have to ask to know that he was heading to Jakes on Main, the place where it began.

❃ 

Header: Not good enough for you (我不配) - Jay Chou