I sat juxtaposed to Elliot on his imitation-suede teal couch; a quite obvious hand-me-down from his older brother whom I’ve only heard of a few times. By now, a month or so into our meeting, he’s spoken of him several times and I’ve become acquainted with the imaginable characters of his family members. We do this quite often, lay on his couch on a calm afternoon and watch movies we’re obsessed with.
Today there’s a Back To The Future Marathon showing in Elliot’s living room. His roommate, Chuggs, has incidentally gone out with his girlfriend and left Elliot to rule over their sloppy yet robust domain. “Doc, you’re tellin’ me that this sucker is nuclear?!” We recreate the classic line simultaneously as it is said in the film.
“You’re a freakin’ geek.” He turns to me and states quite maliciously.
“I am…a total geek.” I shrug, satisfied with the assumption. “I’m not a geek. I’m a badass.” I then state to recover from my admitted mortification – that meant absolutely nothing to me actually.
“If you didn’t live with your parents when you were 11, you’re a badass. I’ll give you that.” He said.
“Not necessarily. You can live with your parents and be down-right rotten.” I replied, insisting on the topic actually because I didn’t necessarily feel like running through Michael J. Fox’s, as sexually attractive as he may be to a geek like myself, lines another time.
“I don’t know. Parents stop you from doing a lot. I didn’t smoke or drink or anything like that when I finished high school.” Elliot said.
“Wow really? That’s crazy. When did you? Were you a virgin?” I asked humorously, nudging his shoulder the joking way I do.
He grinned, blushed a slight amount and responded, “No.” Elliot laughed, red in the face. “I wasn’t that bad. I don’t even think I smoked a cigarette until I was, like, 18.”
“I smoked the first time when I was 12.” I grinned, slightly embarrassed by my jagged past.
“What? That’s so freakin’ bad, Dude.” Elliot cackled at my expense and I laughed along with him. I was done being ashamed with everything I’ve done. Even at that time, I was just a little girl. I was given an offer and I took it, no question. It happens to a lot of people.
“I know. I lost my virginity when I was 14. That’s almost worse.” I smiled modestly.
“I lost mine when I was…” Elliot halted for a moment, probably calculating a ‘cool’ response, “16 – but the girl was 14.”
“Eww!” I snorted in immature humor. “You fucked a 14 year old? You pedophile!” He laughed along with me only because he knew I was kidding.
“You were 14! Did you lose your virginity to another 14 year old?” He threw his hands up defeatedly, hopping off the couch and trekking to the kitchen where he would acquire several beers.
“No! He was like 17. I lost my virginity to a guy named Tim and I was too fucked up to even remember what happened.”
“That’s crazy. That must suck ass. You really didn’t remember?”
“Yeah, the only parts of it I remember are what he told said when he bragged to fucking everybody!”
We laughed. It was funny I suppose but by the end of each breath I felt a wind of shame. A shame I was not yet ready to bare and had been trying to deal with for many years since.
“I’m sorry.” He finally said as the room grew silent and he sat back down, placing a cold and wet Heineken in my palm. I groped the bottle nervously as I stared at the fabric of the couch. Of course, Elliot stared right at my lowered face.
“It’s okay.” I sighed. “My brother beat him up for it after, then a year later my boyfriend beat him up for it too.”
“If I knew you then, I’d beat him up too.” He nodded.
“Sometimes it’s like; I chock my luck up to everything I’ve done, even things that were out of my control. Like, I know I was too drunk and way too young to stop whatever happened that night – not to mention I was all strung out on acid – which is my fault too. Still I think that, like, everything that’s happened to me since then has been because of the stuff I do. Like, it’s God’s revenge on me for that one time that I didn’t mean. Like, I had sex with someone I didn’t love and that was my first time, my only first time.”
“God forgives you if you repent.” He spoke to me, quite softly as he had brought his body closer to my leaning posture.
“I know.” I sighed. “I fix it with alcohol.” I smirked half-heartedly as I normally do. I always fix my problems with stale humor and Bacardi.
“Fix it with me.” I half-expected to look up and have my eyes meet a delicate smile and lively green eyes. I glanced up to show him the same but I froze, as his face was quite serious, quite surreal. Not so serious actually, just more matter-of-factly than jokingly. He looked at me as if to say, ‘You may as well.”
“You’re full of shit.” I laughed, only to escape the statement. I don’t know why. I could fall asleep in his arms right that moment and be the happiest woman alive. He’s been the only man to meet my mind since we met. I just wasn’t prepared for that moment. I didn’t want that to happen so soon. And I know that I was over thinking the situation entirely. He probably didn’t mean it that way. It is very possible that he meant something sexual or something platonic. It didn’t have to be romantic. Well, it couldn’t have been platonic since that would mean there’s no sexual desire between us – and since we’ve already had sex, I don’t find it likely.
Nevertheless, he smiled as well and even laughed a little. I think we both had a moment to think, one million thoughts ran through our heads and we recovered nicely. We silently agreed that at this point, there is nothing. There is no love, no like, no nothing. Not here, not now. Maybe not ever now because that damned remark probably ruined any chances I’ve ever had of being with Elliot the way I see in my dreams.