The elevator ride was silent. I just stared ahead at the glossy silver doors, contemplating my own reflection. The doors finally dinged and we stepped out into the fanciest loft I have ever seen. Not only was it huge, and open and bright, everything was matched perfectly to create a bachelor pad with a sexy but comforting twist. It suited Jake perfectly.
He pointed towards an open door where a bed was visible.
“You can sleep in there. Feel free to stay as long as you want”
“Thanks” I dragged all my stuff over to the room and plopped it on the white comforter, admiring my surroundings. A large window over looked the not very impressive skyline making me miss Atlanta’s stunning skyscrapers, but at least Portland felt like home.
I made the executive decision that putting away my endless amount of clothing and shoes could definitely wait and wandered back towards the kitchen with an earl gray teabag in hand, knowing that Jake wouldn’t have the stuff on hand because he claimed it tasted like old lady.
Jake was standing at the corner, examining the back of a cereal box as he sipped on what I would assume is black coffee. Black like his soul. I’m kidding. Mostly. He looked up at me when I padded into the kitchen noiselessly, and looked around for a tea kettle or a pot to boil water. He pointed noiselessly at a stainless steel contraption in the corner of the counter. I ambled over and began staring at it, assessing the various possibilities on how the hell it worked, let alone turned on. I felt Jake’s presence behind me, and couldn’t help but notice his arm muscles which were fucking perfect just like the rest of him, apparently. He flipped a few switches and pulled a lever and voila! A cloud of steam rose and the water inside the clear glass began to boil. He gestured at a switch that I assumed was to be used to get the water out, and walked back over to his original location, this time nodding at a cup that sat on the marble island that made up the center of the more-then-big-enough kitchen. I grabbed, placed the tea bag inside and flipped the switchy thing. And low and behold, piping hot water streamed out. At this point I took matters into my own hands, marched over to the fridge that was made to blend into the cabinets and took out milk, knowing he wouldn’t have any crème on hand. Boys. So useless. Even if you have nothing, you must have crème.
When I turned around to face him once more, I was surprised to find his eyes were already trained in my direction. He glanced down at the cup I held in my hand, and I could that now that I was all situated with my little drink, the questioning would begin.
“So are goodbyes just not your thing or something?” he looked at me accusingly. I stared at him for a moment, not knowing what to say.
“Um…”
“What? Nothing to say for yourself? Typical. Typical, selfish Ari. Let me guess, you just couldn’t be bothered. It must have been so easy for you to just up and leave, no goodbye, no I’ll try and stay, in touch, and no I’ll miss you. Who doesn’t tell their best friend they are leaving town for possibly forever! WHO DOES THAT ARI?” he was yelling now, the vein in his neck popping out slightly. “YOU WERE MY FUCKING BEST FRIEND. AND YOU LEFT. YOU JUST LEFT ME!”
I watched stand there, breathing in and out. And while I felt, in that moment, like the worst person in the world, I could also feel myself getting angry.
“You have no idea how it was for me! Easy?!?! You think it was easy for me to just leave? There was nothing left for me here! NOTHING! I felt like I was suffocating! And I knew if I had gone to stay goodbye to you, you would have convinced me to stay! And I needed to go! You have understand! I had to!” in my rage I had marched around the island and now found myself looking up at him, are height difference very apparent without my heels. His bright green eyes locked with my light green eyes.
“You’re right, if you had come to say goodbye to me I would have made you stayed” he gave me a small smile and I hesitantly returned a watery one through my tears, making me realize I was crying. I turned away, embarrassed, wiping at the mess that my eyes must have been considering the amount of makeup I put on this morning to try and resemble having slept. He gently tugged at my arm, making me face him.
“I hate yelling at you, and I didn’t want to make you cry, but you hurt me. You hurt me, okay. You’re my best friend and I love you” my breath hitched at his last statement, but before I could react, he pulled me into his chest, my head resting on his white t-shirt. I remembered how much I missed this. The way he smelled, and the way his chiseled chest felt against my check, and the way I could feel his heartbeat. No one could make me feel safe like he did. Like I was finally home.
I stepped out of his grasp after a few moments, and once more looked up at him. And while I saw traces of forgiveness in his eyes, I mostly saw hurt. This certainly wasn’t going to be the last time we talked about this.
A few hours later I had finally unpacked everything in my suitcase and made it through m third cup of tea. Just as I was laying down on the softest bed I had ever come across to take a much needed nap, Jake appeared in the doorway, this time clad in jeans and a black sweatshirt instead of his sweatpants and white tee from earlier.
“Hey, I was heading to the stores, and was wondering if you wanted anything. I usually go out, you know, the whole bachelor lifestyle, and there isn’t much in the house. Cold pizza mostly…” his voice trailed off and he looked at me expectantly.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Do you mind getting some yogurt? And fruit. Anything’s fine. Oh, and maybe some chicken nuggets” he nodded his head at me.
“Yep, no problem. See you later, Ari” he turned to go.
“Oh, um, Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you get some, uh, umm…”
“Spit it out”
“Uh, beer?” I cringed, knowing I would never hear the end of it. He began to laugh loudly and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I totally forgot how you drink beer like normal people drink wine! Or water for that matter. But yeah, sure.” He turned once again, this time leaving the room, laughing his entire way out. I half heartily threw a pillow in his direction, and then plopped back onto the bed. I just think wine tastes gross. And who doesn’t love beer? (Some people, I know, but I just consider it a serious character flaw.)
I pulled the blankets up around me, shut my eyes, and before I knew it, I was fast asleep.
