Mixed Signals

Waiting Game

The night Gemma went to drinks with Conor McNabb, I knew I'd lost my chance with her. From behind my glass wall, I watched their relationship develop. A few months went by, September into October, October into November, and November led into December. I still saw Gemma and we spoke on occasion, but I kept my distance. As a friend, I didn't want to do anything to prevent her happiness.

Oddly enough, I kept on with the way my life was heading. Random girls here and there, restless nights of sleep, overworking myself. Things didn't change for a while. Gemma was always there in the back of my mind, the sight of her and Conor pricking my skin envy.

And so, December began.

I awoke from a chill in my flat, the kind that seeps into your bones and freezes you from the inside out. It was still dark. The time was 1:12. I put on some warm clothes and went to my living room to grab a few extra blankets.

A muffled shout drew my attention to the hall. Dropping the blankets on the couch, I went to the door to see what the commotion was. There was another shout, a female voice. I opened the door a small bit to reveal the situation.

Gemma had Conor backed against a wall, standing in front of him strongly and her finger pointed at his chest. Her back was to me. Anger read on his features and from Gemma's stance, I took it to mean she wasn't very happy either. His dangerous eyes glared down at her.

"You don't get to make judgment calls about my life like that," she growled. "This is my life, Conor. Mine. I can't believe you told my parents I couldn't come home for Christmas. They're my fucking parents, Conor, what the fuck do you think is going to happen if I go home? Nothing. I can function for a week without you. I don't need you by my side at all times. I'm a goddamn adult, and you don't get to make decisions for me."

His chest rose and fell heavily, and I felt the tension rising. In a flash of motion, he pushed her hand away and backhanded her, hard, sending her stumbling. She hit the opposing wall with a loud thud, and I flung my door open, advancing without hesitation. He moved toward her again, but I got in his way.

"The fuck you want?" He puffed his chest up at me. "This has nothing to fucking do with you. Get out of the way."

"Go, now," my tone was deep, warning him not to make any moves. "Get the fuck out of here before anything else happens."

His eyes flashed rage and he threw a punch. I saw it coming, blocking it and nailing him in the side. It only incapacitated him for a split second, before he grunted and landed a punch on my cheek. I hit him as hard as I could in the gut and he doubled over, only to ram his shoulder into me, driving me against the wall. I groaned in pain and he punched me in the jaw, splitting my lip.

"Conor, stop!" Gemma yelled, off the ground and somehow now pulling at him, trying to get him off me. He turned on her, in a fitful rage. His fist connected with her cheek and that was all I needed to snap out of my pain-laced haze.

I wrapped my arm around his neck and yanked him back so he couldn't touch her. I brought my knee sharply into his lower back causing him to jerk from pain. He writhed away from my grasp and he stumbled away. I pulled Gemma behind me and I felt her trembling hands grab the back of my shirt.

Conor threw me one final glance filled with a flame of anger until he turned around and stalked away. I led her into my flat, closing and locking the door behind us.

She didn't speak, her tear stained face turned toward the floor. She stood still, back to me. I put my hand gently on her shoulder and she spun around into my arms. Silent sobs wracked her body and I felt hot tears soak through my shirt. She started to crumble to the floor, so I tightened my grip and went down with her.

We sat for a long while, entangled on the floor. Her crying subsided eventually but we still sat. I stroked her hair comfortingly, arms wrapped around her. Her head laid on my chest, her breathing shallow and uneven. I was silent.

"I'm so sorry, Ian," her voice came as a whisper. "I am so, so sorry."

I leaned back, putting my hands on either side of her face and looking her squarely in the eye. "Never apologize for anything that isn't your fault. You did not do this, Gemma. Don't apologize, understand?"

She nodded, her bottom lip trembling. I pulled her back into my arms and the silence enveloped us yet again. She fell asleep after a while, so I picked her up and put her in my bed. I went to sleep on my couch. I was restless, fading in and out of sleep as the sun rose lazily. At about seven, I called Teddy.

"Morning, Ian," his voice was bright and chipper. "Coming in late today?"

I sighed, grinning. "You know me so well," I heard him chuckle from the other ends if the phone. "But Gemma isn't coming in today either."

"Really?" His voice took on a suggestive quality. "I thought you two had no chance?"

"It's not like that," I shook my head, knowing he couldn't see me.

"What's it like then?" I felt his curiosity through there phone.

"Teddy..."

"Ian."

I sighed exasperatedly. "You can't tell anyone, Teddy."

"Lips are sealed," his voice became giddy.

"This is serious, Teddy. You have to swear."

"We're adults, Ian, it's not like we're in primary school. Just tell me," he finally got serious.

"Conor and Gemma were fighting in the hall last night and he hit her. I got involved and fought him off. She came into my flat after that and fell asleep. I don't think it would be a good idea if either of us came in today. I don't think she's safe, not with Conor still there," I kept my voice quiet, in case Gemma were to wake up.

Teddy was quiet for a moment. "Okay, Ian. I'll take care if it today."

"Thank you. Have good one."

"You too," he hung up, leaving me standing in my living room alone and in silence.

"Hi," a voice from the doorway to my room made me jump. Gemma stood in her pajamas from last night, hair sticking up wildly and bruises on her face. Her eyes were puffy and her left one was an inky purple.

"Hey there," I said softly, smiling gently. She stepped toward me, unsure of what to do. "Do you want something to eat? I can cook, if you'd like."

She shook her head. "I, um," she cleared her throat. "I don't want to be a burden. I can go back to my flat and just stay home today. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"Believe me, you're not any burden to me," I continued to smile at her. "In any case, I don't think it's safe for you to go home. Unless your roommate knows what happened already?"

Panic flashed across her face. "Oh, shit," she groaned, putting her face in her hands. "Elle is going to kill me."

"Was she not there last night?" I moved to my kitchen to make breakfast.

"No, she was at her boyfriend's place," she patted herself down, searching for her phone. "I've got to call her, but I left my phone over at my place."

"Here, use mine," I set my cell on the counter. She asked over and picked it up tentatively. I gave her my password and she called her roommate. Their conversation was brief, Gemma obviously consoling and during her friend that she was alright.

From the kitchen, I watched her quietly, thinking about how there might be a chance now. Obviously, not yet. But there was no chance that she would go back to him, giving me an even better shot at an opportunity to be with her. To be good to her.