Chapter Seven
Nick
Brian and I didn’t exactly kiss and make-up or anything, but we were at least civil the rest of the afternoon and I even found it in me somewhere deep to attempt to act more lively at the rest of the appearances we had to make after that. I dunno what made him suddenly come back and apologize, but he did, and I knew it was probably not the easiest thing in the world for him to do so I went with it. One night of a civil truce didn’t sound like a terrible idea.
If only such a thing was possible.
Since we were moderately getting along, we got a crappy pizza on the way back to the hotel and agreed, after much flipping through the channels, to watch the French-with-English-subtitles version of the fourth Harry Potter movie, which Brian seemed to be enjoying a lot more than I was. By the halfway point, I was bored and full and I sighed, rolling onto my back to look up at the ceiling, surrounded by pizza crumbs.
Brian shifted on his bed to look over at me, “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired of reading the movie,” I replied, closing my eyes. “You know my attention span.”
Brian sat up, muting the TV. “What about, like, in general?” he asked. “You seem like something’s bugging you lately.”
There’d been a lot bugging me lately, actually, I thought, not the least of which was being stuck with Brian in a foreign country. But even excluding that, there had been a lot going on. I was feeling pressured from a lot of angles and sometimes it’s easier to stay strong when you internalize that stuff, keep it private, like the fewer the people who knew about what was bothering you the less real it was.
“I’m okay in general, too,” I said.
Brian leaned against the headboard of his bed. I could feel his eyes studying me, contemplating me. He leaned forward and grabbed a slice of pizza then sat back, ripping bites from it with his hands. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? And I won’t tell anyone?”
I looked over at him. “I’m okay. Really.”
“No man is an island Nick,” he said, “That’s all I’m saying.”
“An island?” I asked, not understanding what he was saying.
“Like alone,” he clarified. “You don’t have to deal with whatever’s bothering you alone.”
“I’m not alone,” I said.
“There’s ways to be alone with people all around you,” Brian said.
I stared at him, unsure where he was going with this or if this was some reference to something in my life that was going on. Maybe it was a joke that I just didn’t get?
Maybe he thought I was lonely? Like I used to be before I met Lauren?
“I’m married, dude, remember? I ain’t alone.”
“I don’t mean like that,” he said.
I was confused.
“I mean like emotionally, like your feelings. I know it’s been awhile since we’ve talked much, but I’m here for you, regardless. You can talk to me about anything - even stuff you maybe can’t talk to Lauren about.”
I sat up. “What? I fuckin’ love Lauren, I can talk to her about anything.” I glared at him, “Don’t you be hating on her.”
“I’m not hating on her,” Brian said, “Lauren’s a great girl. And you’re the one that brought her up. I’m just saying that ---”
“Fuck you,” I said, not waiting for his explanation. “I love her and we’re happy together, whatever anyone seems to think about us, and I don’t gotta take this bullshit.” My relationship with Lauren and it’s real-ness was a hot button topic for me because of my mother and because of all the shit she’d been putting me and Lauren through. I felt like I was constantly jumping through flaming hoops like a circus dog just to prove that she and I were legit and loved each other. I’d jump through any hoop for her, though, because I loved her. And if Brian wanted to come in with his fuckin’ hoops, then so be it. I’d jump them too. My blood pressure rose like a rocket. I could literally hear my heart pounding in my ears because, while I expected this crap from my mother, I did not expect it from Brian. “I can’t believe you,” I added, standing up, “At least my woman still has all her original parts, unlike yours.”
Brian’s eyebrows almost shot off his head. “Whoa - wait, wait, wait! You are so taking this the wrong way,” he stammered, holding up his palms, “Calm down a second and listen --”
“No, I will not calm down no second,” I said, “You get so pissed off when I say anything about -- about Boobjob Barbie,” I shouted, employing the name I’d called Leighanne back in the day, “ I’m not calming down ‘cos you talk shit about my woman and you gotta answer to me just like all the times I’ve bad mouthed Leighanne and hadda answer to you. This is a two-way street baby!” I waved my hands, indicating the two directions of my metaphorical street.
Brian’s face reddened the moment the words Boobjob Barbie fell from my mouth. “I’m not talkin’ shit about Lauren,” his voice grew louder as he spoke, “If you’d clean out your damn ears and listen to me instead of --”
I threw my pillow across the room at him, cutting him off mid-sentence. I grabbed my sneakers from by the bathroom door, tugging them on and yanking at the laces. “I hear you just fukin’ fine,” I yelled, “Judging me… thinkin’ you’re better than me… like there’s something wrong with me and you know the fuckin’ cure and oh look at you, fuckin’ Brian, his holiness… of course you know the cure, you’re a fuckin’ -- fuckin’ miracle working god...” I waved myself into a sarcastic bow and ended it with a flourished flipping up of the middle finger.
“I don’t think I’m better than you,” Brian argued, getting up and coming over to the doorway as I shrugged into my coat. “I mean you’re not great at listening, but --”
He was right… at that moment, I wasn’t listening.
I headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” I said.
“Nick, it’s 2am.”
“I don’t fuckin’ care,” I replied.
He grabbed his own coat off the hanger as I pulled the door opened and stepped into the hallway. “Wait, Nick… Wait.” Brian came rushing out behind me. “You can’t go out alone at two in the morning in a foreign country, are you insane? Nick…”
I walked faster.
“Nick, c’mon, don’t be an idiot.”
“Go the fuck away… You aren’t gonna stop me.” I shoved the door open for the stairs because I knew I could go down the stairs faster than Brian could. An elevator he’d end up in the same car as me and being closed in such a small space with him was basically the definition of hell. The stairs, I might be able to out speed him.
Brian rushed after me, “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you aren’t,” I snapped.
I was down several steps, he just caught the door as he ran after me. “Yes, I am,” he called, his voice echoing in the stairwell.
“Leave me alone!” I yelled.
“I thought you weren’t alone,” Brian’s voice was venomous.
“FUCK YOU!” I yelled, and I felt great about how it sounded as it reflected off the walls and bounced back at me, like a prism. The words surrounded us in echoing splendor. I felt like the words were more powerful in there.
But they didn’t stop him from following me, so I guess they were less powerful than I needed them to be.
I broke out the door at the bottom of the stairs into the streets of Paris, under those same zig-zaggy lights as I’d found myself the night before. This was becoming a pattern: me wandering the streets at ungodly hours. However, Paris is not New York, at least the area we were staying in wasn’t, and it is a city that sleeps. The streets were clear, silent cars belonging to residents of apartments over businesses lined the streets and the zig-zaggy lights seemed to be on a dimmer.
It was fuckin’ freezing outside. And snowing just a little bit, which was probably what made the lights seem dim. I shoved my hands as deep into my pockets as I could, and I knew that whatever fit I was throwing out here couldn’t last very long or I’d freeze to death.
Brian came out behind me as I stood there, contemplating what to do now that I knew how cold it was. I was trying to come up with some graceful way to go back inside without denting my pride too much. “Fuck it’s cold out,” Brian choked the instant he exited the stairwell.
“So go back inside,” I snarled.
“Not without you.”
I rolled my eyes and started walking.
Brian
My nostrils were frozen on the inside, I was sure of it. I would’ve given anything for a scarf. I zipped my coat up as far as it would go, trying to nest my face into the collar of it, but it was still colder than all hell outside. I trotted along behind Nick, trying desperately to keep up, but he was power walking and his legs are so long that I gotta take two steps to every one of his and it felt like I was jogging at the North Pole.
Nick kept walking resolutely, further and further from the hotel. I wanted to give up, but I didn’t want him to be able to say that I’d given up. I wasn’t even sure how we’d gotten to where we were from where we started. All I’d tried to do was talk to him and somehow it had spiraled so fast so far out of control… I hated how Nick never let me explain the things I said when he took them wrong, how he always assumed he just knew what I was saying or what I meant by things. He never took into account how different we were now that we were older, that maybe he didn’t intuitively know everything about me the way he used to, and I didn’t intuitively know everything about him the way I used to, either. I didn’t know how to walk on eggshells with him anymore.
At one point I’d been so skilled at dodging eggshells with him that it was effortless.
Now I felt like an ox in a china shop.
“Nick,” I whined because he was slowing down a little and I knew he had to be tired of walking and cold, too, we’d been out in it for ten minutes now and the frigid temperature was coming through my jacket now and the streets were starting to be dusted with snow and the only people we were passing were sketchy, with skull caps and squinty eyes. “Nick, c’mon, let’s go back to the hotel.”
“You can go back yourself if you want to,” Nick snapped.
Honestly, even if I wanted to by then there was no way I could’ve. We’d turned several times and I’d been preoccupied with thinking and trying to keep my nose warm so I hadn’t even noticed where we were going.
“Nick, c’mon,” I tried again.
He stopped short and I almost walked into him. For a second, I thought maybe we were going back, but he was only pausing, looking around us, and then he bolted forward quickly. I hurried after him, slipping on a little bit of ice under the light dusting of snow and only just catching my balance by putting my hand on some car. It’s alarm went off and I darted away, looking up only in time to see Nick ducking into what looked like a bar or a club across the street.
I sighed and, glancing back nervously at the honking/flashing car alarm, I went after him. At least it’d be warm inside, I hoped, and I hurried up the steps and followed him in.
The second I stepped through the door, though, I wished to hell that I knew the way back to the hotel. Of all the places in all of Paris that Nick could’ve ducked into he’d managed to find the seediest bar I’d ever seen. Creepy people sat at tables all around the room and there were girls dancing on tables with very predatory men standing around watching as their half-dressed bodies moved against each other, grinding. I looked around desperately for Nick, but he’d somehow managed to go in and disappear among the other patrons of the bar seamlessly and I couldn’t see him.
I dodged and ducked my way through, trying to keep my eyes averted because this was exactly the kind of place that I’d never, ever be at in my wildest nightmares. This was the kinda place a guy like me goes to if he wants to get the shit beat out of him. My throat constricted and I moved so I wouldn’t bump into this guy who was shouting loudly at another guy, about to start a fight with him. I just managed to sidestep around them as they collided and the fists started to fly. I made it to the bar itself somehow and sat numbly, my heart racing as my eyes darted around the room.
I’d given up this sort of scene for a reason. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t have the slightest clue how to even pretend that I belonged there to try to camouflage myself. So I sat there, sticking out like a sore thumb. If only it was Nick looking for me then our problems would be solved because I felt like every single person in the whole bar was staring at me, laughing, thinking I was out of place.
I knew I saw Nick come in here, but for the life of me I couldn’t see him anywhere. What if he’d ducked back out as soon as I’d come in? What if he’d gone back to the hotel without me? Would he give a damn if I didn’t show up? Would he come after me? Why didn’t we get Drew or Mike to come with us on this little excursion? There wasn’t enough time to, I reminded myself, because Nick had left so quickly, in such a huff, that there was no way I could’ve done anything but shrug my coat on and run after him.
Suddenly the big guy from the fight was by my side, trying to get at the bar, and in his process of getting closer, he pushed me and I slid right off my stool into the next guy, knocking him a bit off his stool.
The guy I’d fallen into stood up, yelling something in really low, thick French. I hadn’t a clue what he said. I stared up at him, wide eyed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I - I slipped.”
“Stupid Americans,” he spat. Literally spat, his saliva wad hitting the floor to the left of my feet. I stared at it as it oozed and spread itself out on the dirty wood floor.
I looked back up just in time to see his fist coming toward me. I closed my eyes and waited for the hit.
But it didn’t come.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Nick’s back as he caught the guy’s fist with his palm, his fingers folding around the guy’s hand. “Oy, asshole, back the fuck off, it was an accident,” he said.
I swallowed. It felt like my heart was in my throat, like if I didn’t swallow it down it would jump out of my mouth and land in the pool of that guy’s spit.
The guy didn’t apparently give a shit if it was an accident or not, though, because he just shook Nick’s grip off his fist off and swung again. This time for Nick. And this time, Nick didn’t react fast enough to stop it.
Nick
One second I was staring into this French guy’s livid face, and the next I opened my eyes and I was laying on my back a dirty bathroom, staring up at Brian’s face.
With one eye.
Because the other one was swollen shut.
The entire left side of my face hurt.
“I don’t know,” Brian was stammering, “We walked here, I don’t know.” He looked down and saw my eye was open. “He’s awake. Oh thank you Jesus. Nick, where are we? What’s this place called?”
“Fuck,” I groaned and I closed my eye again.
“Nick, Drew needs to know if he’s gonna come find us.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone. I squinted at it from my one eye. My face was throbbing. I pulled open maps and clicked on it to show my location and held it up for Brian. Brian babbled street names off to Drew and hung up. “He’s coming to find us,” he said.
I struggled to sit up, my stomach turning. I rolled onto my knees and hurled into the toilet we were sitting by. “Fuck,” I groaned.
“Are you okay?” Brian sounded terrified.
“No,” I answered, still spitting the last of the vomit out of my mouth.
“I can’t believe you took that punch,” Brian commented. He pulled several squares of toilet paper off the roll and folded them neatly, reaching over and swiping it across my face, cleaning my mouth. It hurt when he got to the left side and I twitched, pulling away. “Sorry,” he said.
“I can’t believe I took it either,” I mumbled.
Brian’s voice was quiet, “Why did you?”
I stared into the bowl, at the remnants of pizza floating around in swirling patterns that if it hadn’t been puke might have been pretty. I wondered if this was how disgusting art trends started, like the guy that pisses into jars and sells them for millions of dollars.
“Nick?”
I glanced over at him, every motion I made felt huge, like there was an ocean in my head rushing side to side. “I might wanna stab you with a spork shive but nobody else is allowed to fuckin’ hurt you,” I muttered.
Brian sighed and shifted so he was squatting, leaning against the wall of the bathroom. “A spork shive, huh?” he asked.
“Man’s most feared weapon,” I muttered, “Available only at participating KFC restaurant locations.”
Brian laughed, shaking his head. “Guy knocked all the sense out of your brains,” he said quietly, but the way he said it I knew he didn’t mean it. Quite the opposite, it was almost a thank you.
“Didn’t have much to knock out,” I replied, but the way I said it was almost a you’re welcome.
Brian
Drew and Mike both came and they got us out of the bathroom and led us past Nick’s assailant out into the street where a taxi was waiting for us. The car whose alarm I’d set off was now silent and dusted with snow once more.
“What were you two thinking? Going out at two in the morning to a place like that without us?” Drew asked.
Mike just shook his head like he was somewhat used to things like this from Nick.
“Just needed to blow off steam,” I said, looking at Nick.
His face was already discoloring. It was going to be the color of a ripe eggplant by the time that bruise finished rising. I felt a lump in my throat. That could’ve been my face, my jaw that hurt, my eye swollen shut.
I felt grateful and guilty at the same time.
Nick leaned back in his seat miserably.
Back at the hotel, Drew and Mike helped us upstairs to our rooms, where we realized that neither Nick nor I had remembered our room keys and Drew went down to get a new one for us. Mike stood there, basically holding Nick up. “So how’d the fight go?” Mike asked. I could tell it’d been killing him not to ask before now, but Drew was sensible and more interested in the facts of why we were there than the gory details of what happened.
Nick replied, “He looks worse than I do.”
This wasn’t true, of course, since Nick hadn’t even gotten a swing in before the guy laid him out cold, but I didn’t say anything.
The guy had been ugly enough that it was true anyways. Even with a bruised face, Nick could’ve beat him in any beauty pageant.
When Drew came back up, the two of them got us into the room and Drew went on a long winded tirade about not leaving the hotel without them at two in the morning and then they left to go back to their own room.
Nick lay on his bed on his back like a slug.
I sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at my hands. “I’m sorry,” I said for the second time in twenty-four hours. “I don’t know how that fight we had got so far out of hand so quickly. I swear to you I didn’t mean any of the things you thought I said. I know that what I was trying to say was coming out wrong. I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you, like the old days.” I paused. “I didn’t mean to get you punched.”
Nick looked at me through his one eye. “You mean you didn’t hire that guy to be there to try to punch you so I’d step in and get punched myself?” he joked. He smiled with half his mouth. “Dawg, that would be a really involved way to get back at me for being an asshole. ‘Cos that’s what I was being.” He sighed. “I thought my balls were gonna freeze off when I was walking.”
“Oh man, me, too. It’s like five degrees outside according to the phone,” I said.
“No wonder,” Nick laughed.
I laughed, too, and it felt good for us both to be laughing again together. As it faded, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at him for a long moment. “Whatever happened to us?” I asked.
Nick shrugged. “I dunno.”
“It used to be easy, didn’t it? You and me?”
Nick nodded.
“I miss being your best friend,” I confessed.
Nick’s half smile returned, “You still are.”
My heart strings tugged inside me. “Even though I’m a dick?” I asked, smirking a little.
“Yeah, even though you’re a dick,” Nick said.
I laughed. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“No I mean for whatever I did back then that made you pull away,” I told him.
Nick stared at me.
“I always wondered what it was,” I said. “I knew you wouldn’t have pulled away on your own. I know it was my fault, whatever it was, and I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to say that for years, but… I’ve never…” I stopped talking.
Because I realized Nick was crying.
There's Us by Pengi
