Then, Now, Me

Chapter 12: Then

"Beth, really? Chris Brady?" my friend, Jen, asks incredulously. "You do know he is crazy, right?"

I sigh. I always get this response. "I don"t know, Jen," I say and thoughtfully add, "there"s just something about him. He really has potential, you know? And he"s really sweet with me."

A hard, sarcastic laugh explodes out of her mouth, but she still manages to say, "Oh, Beth. Always looking for the good in people." Then she quiets down and says with more seriousness, "Just be careful, okay? You"re too nice for your own good."

"I think it"s important to expect the best instead of the worst," I say with youthful wisdom, "I think it"s really sad when people expect the worst to happen. It makes me wonder what"s happened in their life to believe that."

OOOOO

"Chris!" I shout loudly, "Chris, stop! Seriously. I didn"t know where you were!" I continue to yell over the thumping beat of the music. "I shouldn"t even be here. You know that. I"m on call in the dorm tonight and I have my stats class early tomorrow." Grad school is proving to be incredibly demanding, between Resident Director responsibilities and intense coursework.

Chris barks out a laugh and stumbles over to me, "Yeah, yeah. I just wanted to come over for a few...and have a few," and apparently, he thinks his almost pun is hysterical because his laughter borders on hyena-like. A couple of - what looks to be - freshmen girls give him a wide berth. Understandable, I think sarcastically to myself.

"Well, just come home," I say, trying to be more calm in order to, maybe, calm Chris down. "You don"t live here anymore, remember?" In all honesty, I just want to get him out of this damn fraternity house. It"ll be the death of him one day, I swear.

"Well, of course I remember, the Bethie!" he says in his cartoon character voice that is cute when sober - drunk, not so much. He"s always been belligerent when he drinks, which seems to be all-too-often these days.

I move closer to try to make contact and when I do, to my utter shock and dismay, he suddenly shoves me roughly into the side wall and lumbers past me.

"Dude!" Chris yells down the hall, whipping his can of cheap beer dangerously close to a group of students trying to pass that look awfully familiar. Leaning against the wall, still trying to grapple for some sense of sanity in the chaos, I come back to reality and realize my role.

I can"t do this anymore, I conclude in my mind.

Turning and walking down the maze-like hallway without a glance back, I release all attachment to Chris - and subsequently, my hope that perhaps he"ll grow into the man I alone seem to think he can become.

OOOOO

Laying face-down on my bed in only my sorority sweatpants and an old gymnastics t-shirt, I barely feel Chris stroking my back lightly. Silent tears streak down my face and soak the pillow. Lately it seems all I"m good at is crying.

"Beth," Chris says with surprisingly gentleness, "why would you ever go for that guy? I may be a d**k, but that guy is a royal weasel."

With a long breath out, I turn my head to the side and say just above a whisper, "I don"t know. He seemed to really care about me."

Chris says nothing in response - another shocker. Usually it"s a constant stream of verbal diarrhea, for better or for worse.

"Listen, I just got tested," he says carefully. "It definitely wasn"t me that passed this on to you, I"ll tell you that. And I"m going to talk to my mom about this... thing," he says, not able to say the specific words. "Maybe there"s something she can do. I know it"s pretty common and it goes dormant after - "

"Don"t bother," I interrupt, not wanting to hear anymore. "It"s embarrassing. I won"t tell my parents, so why would it be okay to tell yours?"

Chris laughs and says with his familiar abrasive tone, "Easy," and ticking off his fingers, he lists, "One, your parents blow. Two, my mom is a nurse and three," he finishes in his trademark I-can"t-handle-intimacy-so-I"m-gonna-make-it-sound-like-a-joke voice, "she pretty much rules all."

I release another deep sigh.

"So...how did he convince you to hop into bed with him?" he continues, bordering on accusatory.

And at that, I finally feel a fire burn in the pit of my stomach and twist my body to sit up. Looking him in the face, I say intensely, "Let"s review. You were you my first. He was my second. How was I supposed to know that the psychotic asshole carried it and was also sleeping with his infected ex the whole time we were together?" Tears again cloud my vision, "In what f****d up world does a girl who"s a virgin until nearly 23 years old get an incurable STD?"

What I don"t say out loud is: Why didn"t I just wait until marriage, like I planned?

I put my head in my hands and sob. I feel Chris wrap his arms around me and pull me in close.

Knowing it"s a horrifically bad idea, I still ask into his shoulder, "Can you stay tonight?"

And, to my surprise, Chris doesn"t hesitate before responding, "Sure, the Bethie."

OOOOO

"Look, I don"t know what to say," Chris says standing guiltily in front of his computer. "It just doesn"t feel right."

Shaking my head with wonder, I ask knowingly, "You want that girl, don"t you?"

Chris doesn"t say anything.

"Okay, I get it," I say, and I look down before uttering, finally, "Thank you for helping me these past few months. You didn"t have to. Despite it all, you actually were a good friend."

I don"t wait to hear what he has to say and throw open the storm door to his mom"s house, knowing that there"s a 50/50 chance he"ll say something offensive or hurtful. What I don"t consider is that he"ll choose to do something even worse; he doesn"t chase after me or call out for me to stop.

He lets me go.

And finally, I put Chris - my first lover and borderline alcoholic - away, far back in the recesses of my increasingly disturbed mind.

OOOOO

Taking another bite of swordfish in my mouth, I look up at my date.

"So you"re from New Jersey? I have family there," I say conversationally. This is going pretty well, I allow myself to think.

"Yeah, you know Montclair?" Tim asks with a smile. "My mom lives there. I actually wanted to visit for Thanksgiving."

Nodding my head, I respond, "Me too. I have the long weekend off from teaching. I"m going to my uncle"s house in Westfield. My grandparents and other relatives will be around, too."

"We should go together," Tim says, putting his fork down. "I need a navigator to get there from here anyway."

Laughing, I admit, "Well, company you"ll get, but navigator? Not so much. We may be get lost, oh, a couple dozen times."

He winks at me and says, "No worries. Literally, captain of my own ship here. I think I can manage a simple road trip."

OOOOO

Tim,

I don"t know what to write. I haven"t heard from you since our trip to New Jersey, and you don"t take my calls. It"s like you"ve disappeared, which I know not to be true.

I can"t believe after everything, you would actually just stop communicating with me. I didn"t think any sane or reasonable person would do that in real life to another human being. Obviously my belief that things were going well was totally off, but I actually thought that as someone in the military, you might have a sense of integrity and at least be honest with me. Clearly, I was wrong. Someone who simply cuts another off with no explanation after months of getting to know another person - and even meeting each other"s families! - is not anyone I wish to keep around in my life.

I guess I should say... thanks?

What I will say with certainty is this: You are a coward... and maybe married? Maybe it"s because of what I admitted to you just before our trip... it wouldn"t be the first time a guy ran off on me early on, thinking I"m "damaged goods." By the way, thanks for reinforcing this, and not even having the common decency to treat me with an ounce of respect. I hope you can sleep at night, knowing what unnecessary cruelty you"re capable of.

I know you won"t respond, which means everything I"ve written here is more or less the truth. I guess I"ll never fully know. Thanks, again, for that.

That"s it.

Beth

OOOOO

Amanda sets down her soup bowl-like glass of red wine, and laughs loudly, "Beth, you"re in trouble."

I smile. "Am I?"

"You have that goofy "I think I"m in love" look," Amanda points at me with a smirk. "Disgusting, if you ask me."

Chuckling to myself, I spike another piece of chicken with my fork, "I don"t know what you"re talking about."

"Oh, come on!" she says, gesturing her hands wide. "You"re smiling for no damn reason every few minutes. I"m not a complete moron, you know."

Reaching my hand out to grab hers across the table, I say with genuine affection, "I know, Amanda. Thanks for being such a good friend. Seriously."

She nods, squeezes my hand before taking it back, and says, "No problem, Sister. You deserve it, you know."

Not saying anything, I barely allow myself to consider the possibilities of this new guy. We may have had a decent first date, but from experience, I know that could mean absolutely zip.

"Honestly, I"m trying not to think about it," I say, dismissing all thought of what could happen. "I will not be the one to contact him, and I"m not getting my hopes up." I"m done putting myself out there, I silently add.

As usual, Amanda reads my mind and says, "Look, I get that you"ve been hurt and you don"t want to put yourself out there. But you never know unless you try." She adds with her go-to humor, "Besides, if it doesn"t work out, you"ve still got me, Lady."

"I know," I respond, and despite my mood, smile.

"Well," she prompts, "will you at least tell me this guy"s name?"

I clear my throat and allow her one bit of information:

"Scott."

OOOOO

With my whole body shaking, I work up my nerve.

Here goes nothing, I think before opening the bathroom door.

Scott sits patiently on the living room couch, and shoots up to his feet when I enter the room.

"What were you going to tell me?" he says quickly, walking up with a borderline manic stride.

Wringing my hands and trying to calm my growing anxiety, I begin, "So, I have something I need to tell you before this gets any further..."

Sharing the details of my - at best - rocky romantic past and physically quivering the whole time, I brace myself for impact.

He takes it all in, looking as though thinking hard. I have not allowed myself to hope this guy will be any different from the others since grad school, when everything changed. Every time I decide to be honest, the guy performs a disappearing act. I prepare myself for yet another heartbreaking reaction, and anticipating the usual response, already begin the process of emotional shut-down.

Finally, he breathes in slowly and says, "Well," he begins, "The way I figure it is, if we are together and you pass this onto me, we just can"t break up."

My eyes shoot up to his, at first unable to take in his nothing-short-of-a-miracle statement. With pure gratitude and a shudder of relief, a laugh escapes my lips and I manage to breathe out, "Thank you."

His hand covers mine and he shakes his head, "No... thank you for sharing that. It must have been incredibly hard for you."

With tears leaking out of my eyes, I nod, the adrenaline slowly leaching from my body, "You have no idea."

Sitting back on the low couch, he smiles and asks, "So... you hungry?"