I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Thirty-Two

Remember that time I told you that a lack of communication in a relationship is bad? Sure you do – it was in the last chapter. Anyway, I'm about to exemplify this theory.

Al and I were just chilling one day. Listening to music and not really talking, but just soaking each other in. After some time, however, it wasn't enough for me. I moved in to kiss her. She let me, so I rounded first and made my way to second base.

I grasped her waist and then moved my hands up and down her back. When my hands would reach the top of her back, I did this tricky move where I brought them toward her chest before moving back down. Each time, I got closer and closer to her breasts. Finally, I just went for it.

It was a timid touch, but I was there, nonetheless. But not for long. Al grabbed my hand and pulled away from me.

"Eli, you're being a bad boy," she said.

It sounded as if she were being playful, naughty even. But now I see that wasn't the case. She wanted me to stop, but was afraid to tell me straightforward to spare my feelings.

I began working on her lips some more, and she worked back. Soon enough, I returned to her chest. She let me stay there, but I felt a change in her. She wasn't kissing me as enthusiastically. Her shoulders tensed up.

I will say, at least, that I knew when to stop. What I can't say, however, is that I knew how to handle myself and my emotions in that type of situation.

"What's going on?" I said.

"I just . . . just––"

"Just what?" (Take note of how many mistakes I make here. How many times I could have gone without saying certain things. You counting? I'll start you off – this was number one.)

"I don't want to be like that."

"Like what?" I said.

"Like you groping me," she said.

"I wasn't groping you."

"Eli––"

"What? I wasn't. And at what point will you want to be like that?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't feel right. We haven't been going out that long and––"

"We've known each other for four and a half years. How long do you want to wait? We've said that we love each other, so what's the problem?"

"Eli, why are you being like this?"

"Like what? I'm just trying to express my feelings."

"You're being a jerk. Your tone says it all."

"What kind of tone do you want? I'm frustrated – I'm supposed to sound this way."

"If you felt this way, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I could say the same about you," I said.

"Uh, I think my actions have spoken loud enough. Every time you've made a move on me, I turn you away. What does that tell you?"

I was stumped, but I didn't want to lose the argument. New tactic: "So will you ever be ready?"

"Actually, Eli," she began timidly, "I want to save myself."

"Save yourself?"

"Until marriage," she said with more confidence.

"Why? That's ridiculous," I said.

She paused a moment, then, "I think it's time for you to leave," she said, now with authority.

I stood there with my mouth halfway open. She stared me down with her arms crossed. "Fine," I said and, without another word or even looking at her, I turned and left.

Now, two things: 1.) What was your final tally of stupid things I said? I lost count. 2.) If I had communicated to her my feelings before it got to the violent boiling over onto the oven point, we could have avoided that whole situation, and we probably would not have broken up. I was stubborn, too stubborn to see her side.

So I did the logical and reasonable thing: I ended it with her. What a shame, too. We loved each other. But she just couldn't see and acknowledge my feelings and my needs. (Detect anything?)

***

This is the part of the story where things go a little dark. Losing Al at a time when I had nothing to fall back on except my emotionally inept hacker friends meant losing my way. My moral compass, again, not what you would want to take with you on a trek through the woods of life, became even less trustworthy.

My first order of business after breaking up with Al was to get back together with Kara. Don't be so surprised. I've warned you already that I wasn't that great of a guy. I do get your reaction to my actions, though. If I were reading a book where the main character broke his soulmate's heart and pursued sexual fulfillment straightaway, I would be quite disappointed, too. I would be embarrassed, really. You know, kind of like when you go to a play, and one of the actors is messing up his lines. You just cringe. Not because it's a horrible performance, but because you don't want them to fail. You feel their embarrassment. Even though you don't know them, you still root for them. What I'm getting at is that I hope you cringe for me. That when you see me screwing up, you aren't so much disgusted, but you are more embarrassed because you are rooting for me. Now, if you aren't rooting for me at this point, then that sucks for me. Even though it's not my job to make you like me, I would still like for you to root for me.

Now, back to the dark and gloomy. I started to make my moves on Kara. But, like any self-respecting woman would do, she rejected my advances. Our last face-to-face encounter went something like this:

(Scene opens outside of Philosophy lecture hall. Characters are walking toward the Student Activities Center)

Kara: What do you want, Eli?

Eli: I just want to talk. You know, hang out.

Kara: I thought you were done hanging out with me. Traded me in for a newer, shinier model. Or in this case, you traded down.

Eli: I didn't trade you in, I just needed to settle some things with Al before I could really be with you.

Kara: Don't bull-shit me.

Eli: I'm not. I'm––

(Kara stops walking and turns to face Eli)

Kara: Looking for a good fuck? Too bad – I don't give one.

Eli: That's not it. I want to start over with you.

Kara: Wow. You're thick aren't you? I opened up to you physically and emotionally – not an easy thing to do – and––

Eli: Oh, please. You were just trying to get me off, probably like every other guy you've been with. Practically spreading your legs every time we were together.

(Kara slaps Eli in the face and exits stage left)

Pretty messed up, right? I mean me, of course. Kara was in line, while I was out.

***

Second order of business: hacking a bank. The dorm reservation deadline for CU was in a week, so I had some work to do. "But didn't you hack a bank when you were like 12 or something like that?" You may ask. True, but technology aged better than I did. Just think about it (if you can remember this far back): from my childhood to the present action of this story, we went from using the 3 1/2 Floppy disk containing kilobytes(!) of data, to thumb drives holding several gigs – over a million times more data. And so it went with our local banks. Their security systems were a million times more advanced. And I could't just hack a non-existent program controlling the bank like I did in my initiation into 14:21. I could use some of the techniques I found on Google, but I was better than that. Surely I could find my own way.

***

Third order of business, a new quest: lose my virginity.