I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Twenty

You see, my problem was that I had never had anyone interested in me. So when two girls vied for my attention and affection, I didn't know how to handle myself and my situation. Some of you might be reading this and thinking, "Uh, that's a no-brainer, dude – go for the hot blonde who obviously wants to get down with the get-down with you." While others of you will no doubt be screaming in your head, "What are you thinking? Why is this even a discussion? Al, you idiot!" And there are, of course, those of you who would have no problem with me holding a steady relationship with Al while getting a little somethin-somethin on the side with Kara.

So how did I deal? Well, let's start with the night Al and I made up and officially began our bf/gf relationship.

We didn't kiss that night, like I had originally hoped. But I was more than okay with that. Al put on some jazz, and we lay on her bed just staring at each other, memorizing every line, every freckle on our faces and every hue of our eyes until we fell asleep.

In the morning, Renea, after some convincing by Al that we had not done anything that could be described in baseball terms, fixed us breakfast while playing The Police. It was the kind of morning you could remember for the rest of your life.

I wanted to stay with her all day and do it all over again that night, but I had to go to work. I planned on heading back over after going home and showering. My plans changed, however, when I saw on my phone that Kara had emailed me. An email with an attachment. A video attachment.

I sat on the end of my bed and stared at the words "Open in private" in the body of the email and "Thinking of You" as the video's title. My thumb hovered over the blue triangle play button that was the gatekeeper to something forbidden. She had sexted me the one time before, but those were just words. A certain kind of energy was in those words, for sure, but this was something else altogether. It was dangerous, really. And I think I knew that.

I wish I could say that it was a slow fade, that Al's eyes eased themselves out of my memory, going down fighting. But I can't. As soon as my thumb pressed against the screen, there was no more Al. Only Kara.

***

I returned to Al's that night, but not as the same man. I tried my best to hide my guilt and anxiety – I faked the funk. After a few hours, I made some excuse to leave. I could tell Al was a little hurt, but what else was I supposed to do? I was leaving her for her, really. She deserved much more than I was giving her at the time. Better to take the batteries out before they completely die, recharge, and try again the next day.

Alone in the dark of my room, I questioned whether or not I should respond to Kara. I didn't want to be rude, of course, so said my people-pleasing self. So the question then morphed into how I should respond. Should I use this opportunity to break it off? (No mollycoddling, just nipping it in the bud ––Barney Fife) Or should I play it out, see how far I can go? It's funny how guilt can sometimes leave you alone when you're alone.

Call me whatever hateful, spiteful names you can think up from your judgement seat, but I'm telling you, I couldn't "Just say no" – it wasn't that easy. Am I trying to rationalize or explain away my decisions? No. I know what I did was wrong. I'm merely attempting to turn on your empathetic switch while showing you this predicament. Yes – I don't care what you say – it was a predicament.

And I only made it worse.

"Oh, baby" was my response to Kara. I know it's not much, and it wasn't really a sext (how are guys supposed to sext anyway?), but it was a green light for her, for us. After pressing "send", though, my immediate thought was school. How was I going to pull it off? How can I walk hand-in-hand with Al when Kara and I had our own somewhat of a relationship? Would Kara say anything if she saw us? Would she be hurt? Would she tell Al about our email correspondence? Hell – what had I done?

***

School on Monday was a sort-of success. As I feared, Kara passed me and Al (holding hands) walking in front of the School of Pharmacy building. Instead of a confrontation, however, I received a devilish wink as Kara walked by. Thankfully, Al had not seen. Did I wink back? No, but perhaps I would have if my reflexes were a little quicker.

Philosophy was a breeze since Kara skipped. But Communications? That's a different story. I could probably write a short story or even a novella about what happened in class.

Okay, so Al didn't have the class with us, which was good because I didn't have to deal with any awkwardness or confrontation. But how I wish she were there.

I sat in my usual seat in the back, you know, trying to play it cool by not seeming too eager or desperate for Kara. She wasn't put off by that, though. She just joined me.

She took advantage of our semi-private seating area, and took advantage of me. She rubbed her hand up and down my thigh. Slowly. She came so close to me and squeezed and scratched at my thigh, just teasing me.

I then made my own move. I mimicked her, gently kneading her thigh closer to her knee. She was wearing a mini-skirt, and I wasn't sure how high I could go up her leg. My hand shook – actually shook – as it moved up her smooth, bare leg, closer.

Then she decided how close I could go.

She clutched my hand and thrusted it upwards under her skirt.

Ok, I didn't go all the way up. But close. Very close.

Then my nervousness turned to desire. To lust. I wanted her. To touch her. Feel her.

But she didn't let me. She held my hand where it was, and she helped me rub, her nails digging into the back of my hand.

Then class was over.