I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Thirty-Four

I stared at the screen, incapacitated again by a surge of adrenaline.

The fear of her hanging up eventually jerked me from my stupor, and I jumped to my tablet to answer the call.

It took a couple of seconds for our video feeds to load together, and when I saw her face, flawless even through the delayed pixelation, it felt as if it had been years since we were last in synch.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey," Kara said.

"Hey!" I said, a little too excitedly. "What's up? How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Oh, well, I've been okay."

"Look," she said, "I'm sorry for our last conversation. And for slapping you."

"Uh, I think I should be the one apologizing. I was a downright bastard."

"Yeah, but I was kind of a bitch. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

"Wanna start over?" Kara said.

"Yeah, of course," I said, again too enthusiastically. I was loosing cool points.

She smiled. "Good. Great."

(Note: the above exchange didn't go nearly as quickly as you probably read it. It was very slow and awkward with long, nervous pauses.)

I smiled, too. And for the next hour and a half, we caught up on each other's lives (except for all the hacking stuff – I skimped on the details and fabricated some white lies about my current computer interests). As we both became increasingly sleepy, we said our goodnights, but then decided against it. Instead, we propped our tablets up next to our heads in bed and simply watched each other fall asleep.

Contentment. A good word to describe my state of being that night. I didn't need to get off. I needed connection with another.

So why did I feel so bad when I woke up the next morning?

***

It was a bit chilly as I stood on Al's porch. It was like I had been there before, then I remembered that it was just a month prior that I had been there. I had stood nervously at Al's front door before my encounter with her to finally reveal my feelings. This time was a little different, though. I had a sizable pile of apologies to dump onto her. I was prepared to beg, to grovel for her forgiveness. I also had no positive notions for our future together as a couple. I think I had missed that boat (or is it "that ship had sailed"? Whatever. Stupid clichés.). Even still, I had to make amends with her. I needed to reclaim our friendship. Between my dad and Kara and Rusty's and HD pornos and bank hacking, my need for a friendship with Al was the only thing I was sure of anymore. I would give up Colorado and computers and anything else in my life to be friends with her again.

***

I guess on a Saturday morning I had expected a disheveled Al in her PJs with puffy red eyes from a night of crying. Pretty stupid, huh? More like egotistical. Why would I think Al would have been moping around all this time over our break-up? She's a strong woman. Her self-worth and well-being didn't depend on anyone else, especially not a man. She proved that when she came to the door looking as lively ever, fully dressed and ready for life.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," she said, looking up to me.

"Can we talk?"

"Now's not a great time," she said. "I'm about to go run some errands."

I was briefly sidelined, but I didn't want to give up the ball that easily. "I can come with you."

"Eli . . ."

"I know, I know. I just . . . I really want to talk."

She pursed her lips and sighed. "Ok. Wait here a sec."

She came back with her keys, locked the front door and led me to her car.

"Where we going?" I said and regretted it immediately. My tone was too light for our unreconciled situation. I couldn't help it, though. In my eyes, her letting me come along was the first step to reconciliation.

"You'll see," she said.

***

"Well?" she said after safely merging onto the freeway.

I had clammed up and hadn't said anything yet. "Well, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am."

"For what?" she said.

"For everything," I said.

"Everything being . . ."

"Everything," I said again. "For being such a jerk to you. For not respecting you. Not respecting your decision to save yourself for marriage. For trying to take things too far when you clearly didn't want to. For not communicating my feelings about our physical relationship sooner. For being such an immature little child throwing a temper tantrum and breaking up with you." I paused and waited for her response.

A single, swollen tear materialized in the corner of her eye then fell straight down, skipping over her cheek altogether.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're my best friend. Regardless of how I feel, I have no right to treat you that way, and you don't deserve that, either."

"You're right," she said. "I deserve so much more."

"I know."

"Do you? Do you know? How valuable I am?"

"Of course I do," I said, not argumentatively, but as a confident assertion. "I lost sight of that, but you are infinitely more valuable than I am. I know that."

"You mean everything to me. I just want you to love me as much as I love you."

"I do," I said without thinking. I wanted to believe it, but it wasn't true. Yes, I loved her, but there was no way Al was seeing someone else behind my back. Guilt struck me as the thought of falling asleep with Kara the night before rushed back into my mind. Even if it were only virtual. Even if it was before Al and I had this conversation. Those things didn't matter. If I loved Al as much as she loved me – as much as I told her I did – my actions would have been different. My desires would be different, and Kara would be a non-issue. But as it stood in that moment, the fear of breaking Kara's heart again was so overwhelming that I began thinking of ways I could manage both relationships, already coming up with excuses/lies to Al if she ever found out about Kara.

And just when you thought I was becoming a better person. Sorry to disappoint, but that just doesn't happen. Not yet.

"I hope you mean that," she said.

I forced another helping of guilt down my gullet so I could make room for my next lie. "I do," I said and reached over and held her hand.