All of Her: Chapter Eleven

It has been two weeks since the "I love you" incident. Our relationship hasn't grown cold, per say, but it certainly hasn't retained its heat. He hasn't said it again, either. Which can't be a very good sign. Not that I could say it now anymore than I could've then.

We seem to be successfully avoiding our feelings about the situation. Mostly by flying glow stick kites and watching old movies. We even go dancing at "Alice's Wonderland" once or twice. Avoiding the feelings has to end eventually. We have no choice.

Clark is older than I am. He wants to settle down. I know that he wants to get married and have kids, move into a beautiful one story house in the suburbs. He dreams about it often. I can't give that dream to him. My own failed fairy tale ending has made me bitter and skeptical of any dreams. I can't be Mrs. Samson with a baby on my hip in a three bedroom house in Suburbia Heaven. That isn't who I am. It isn't who I want to be anymore.

"Let's go out to dinner, Abra." He says. He smiles, but it seems fake somehow. This whole week has been us faking. We've been playing pretend and its time to come back to reality. I know what he is planning, but I play ignorance. By the end of this self-destructive spiral I should become an actress in Hollywood. I could win an Oscar for these kinds of performances.

"Sure." I say, faking a cheery tone. "Where shall we go?"

"Let's go to the Hob-Knob, its close and we haven't eaten there in a while."

We walk arm-in-arm and I tease him into skipping with me while we whistle "We're off to see the Wizard." We arrive at the Hob-Knob Cafe out of breath from laughing and skipping. Its the first time we've really laughed in two weeks.

Once inside we order a pot of White Cherry tea and some cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches. We order a few other things before handing off the menus and smiling, somewhat nervously, at one another.

I take a sip of my tea and glance around. Out of the corner of my eye I can see that Clark looks nervous. I, in turn, am now nervous, though I am sure I know what is about to happen. I try to appear nonchalant and clueless.

"What's wrong?" I ask, taking another sip of tea. The waiter comes up with our food and for a moment we are distracted with rearranging the table. I repeat the question once the waiter has disappeared and wait, resigned to what I know is coming.

"I want to ask you something. I am just unsure of how you will react." He takes a sip of his tea. My stomach is in knots, bracing for the question.

"The best way to find out," I say. "is just to ask."

He takes a deep breath, as if he was getting ready to plunge into an icy pool. I mimic his deep breath and hold it.

"I am wanting a more serious commitment. I want us to be more than sex partners. I want to get married, eventually. Have children. I really care about you, Abra, but I have to know if this is something you want too. I am wanting something more out of this relationship. Do you want that too?"

Slowly, I let out the breath I was holding and set my cup back on its saucer. He wants an answer I am not willing to give. I can't force myself to love him. Even though I'd like to. He looks reservedly expectant. I have paused too long, he knows my answer. He sighs and takes another sip of tea.

"I care about you too, Clark," he holds up a hand, silencing me.

"But not enough to continue on the path I suggested. I knew that you didn't want more. It was apparent when I told you I loved you. I meant it then. I mean it now. I can't force you to have feelings for me that you don't want to have, but I can't continue trying when I know we're not going to go any further than this."

I tear up a little. This isn't quite how I saw "us" ending, though I knew it would end. I do care about him. I have enjoyed our time together and, in my mind, I carefully begin to place all of my lovely memories in a box labeled "Clark."

"Can we still be friends?" I ask, quietly. My tea looks cloudy with a chance of loneliness.

"Of course, darling." He takes my hand and looks at me with those beautiful eyes. "This is why I was nervous. I was afraid you would be upset and not want to talk to my anymore. I would hate to lose a friend on top of losing a lover."

I manage a water smile. We finish our tea and our dinner. He drives me home and we kiss goodnight, our last kiss as a couple. He then kisses my cheek and I watch him leave. I sigh heavily as I unlock my door and kick off my shoes. I pick up Snuggles and nuzzle him for a little while.

I am not sure how to go about being friends with an ex. That didn't happen with David. I suppose it couldn't, though. We'd been together too long and the betrayal had cut too deep. This break-up with Clark was sweeter, more gentle. No betrayal, no deep wounds. Just a gentle parting of ways, just like I wanted.

I listen to music for a little while and finish editing my final paper before graduation. It is due tomorrow and the practices for commencement are next week. While I am not graduating valedictorian, I am still graduating with honors and my speech is also due tomorrow.

I am nervous for graduation, sad for my break-up with Clark and eager for the next chapter in my life to unfold. Maybe, once I've graduated, I'll go to "Alice's Wonderland" and dance with somebody who will want to come home with me. Maybe I'll try to date a woman this time around. Or maybe I'll just skip dating altogether and just sleep around. Isn't that more self-destructive in the long run?

I wonder if Clark will still go glow stick kite flying with me. Is it acceptable for friends to do things they did as a couple?

"What do you think, Snuggles?" I lift him up and look in his eyes. He meows at me to put him down. I smile and set him down. I guess I'll just have to find out on my own.

I do cry a little. I think that is to be expected with any relationship ending. Of course, I don't know for sure since this is only the second relationship I've ever had, let alone end. I wish I hadn't wasted so much time on David. He took so much from me. I let him take so much from me. I practically shoved it into his greedy hands.

I call Noah and invite him over to watch movies with me. I don't want to be alone tonight. I am not completely broken up over Clark, but there is an uncomfortable ache in-between my ribs.

He brings ice cream and we watch a Cary Grant movie, Snuggles curled up in my lap.

"Want to talk about it?" He asks after a little while.

I shake my head and eat another spoonful of ice cream. If I talk about it I may actually cry. I keep thinking that I could've been happy with Clark. I could've fallen in love with him, but I am too stubborn. I hurt him. Not intentionally, but he loved me and wanted to build something with me. I am an idiot for acting like this, but I'm too stubborn and stupid to give it up.

So we don't say a word, just eat ice cream and watch movies. Eventually, Noah leaves and I go to bed. I miss Clark already. It was nice, not sleeping alone. It was nice having someone to wake up to. Its over now, though. No point in dwelling on it.

The next day I go to class feeling hung-over. I have dark circles under my eyes that I don't try to hide. My hair is in a messy bun. I am practically wearing my pajamas. I am a mess. I didn't think I would take this so hard. After all, I was the one who was planning it all along.

Jahan's eyes widen when she sees me. I slump in my seat next to her.

"What happened?" she asks. She sounds alarmed.

"My boyfriend and I broke up last night. I guess I'm not taking it as well as I thought."

She hesitantly pats my arm and we don't speak again until class is over. We walk out of class together and she links her arm with mine. We go to the outdoor commons and sit on the grass under a shady tree.

"You can't let one man ruin your whole outlook on life." she says. Again she pats my arm reassuringly. I find that I am not thinking about Clark now. Instead I am thinking about Jahan and her hand on my arm. I am thinking some very interesting thoughts about her. I blush a little, from my audacity.

"I won't let it ruin my outlook." I say, trying to hide my blush. "I just don't know what to do with myself for a little while."

"Would you like to get a drink?" she asks. I am stunned. From our few conversations regarding religion she has made it clear that alcohol is forbidden.

"You mean, like alcohol? Isn't that against your religion?"

"We don't have to drink in public. We could just go back to your apartment. Then no one but us will know." She seems very eager and to be honest, I'm not disinterested myself. I wonder what it would be like to have Jahan at my place, drinking. However, is it wrong of me to feed her rebellious feelings? She has mentioned, once or twice, that she wants to break away from tradition, break away from Islam.

"Why not?" I say. We stand up, brush ourselves off and go to my car. It is only two in the afternoon and I am going home to drink.

We stop by a liquor store and I buy some Bailey's. The clerk shakes his head as he checks me out. I must really look like I'm in dire straits. When I get back to the car, Jahan asks me to stop by the grocery store.

"I'm a little hungry," she says. We go in and I am stunned into silence when she puts ham salad and lobster spread in the cart. She does it so quickly it looks as if the items flew off the shelf and into the basket of their own free will. I grab some oatmeal cookies and a loaf of wheat bread before heading toward the check out counter. She goes out to the car before me. I can only guess that it is so she isn't seen with me when I purchase the pork and shellfish products.

When we get to my apartment she asks me where the toaster is. She toasts a few slice of bread before slathering lobster spread on one and ham salad on another. While she does this I get two glasses and some ice cubes. We sit on the purple plaid couch and I sit in shock as she pours the Bailey's into the glasses.

"Now, why did you and your boyfriend break-up?" she asks. She lifts her veil slightly to take a drink. I have to shake myself to answer her.

"He wants to get married eventually and I don't. I recently had a very bad break-up with my fiance of ten years. I just can't imagine marrying anyone but him. I just couldn't give him what he needs so we decided to end it." I take a gulp of my drink and try to suppress a sigh of relief as it warms me.

"Typical man, not understanding your wants and needs." she says, haughtily. "I am engaged to a man my parents have picked out. I can't stand him. He doesn't care about my needs or wants at all. He keeps asking me to leave school so that we can marry and begin having children."

"Clark is a nice guy, but I can't fall in love with him." I say, lamely. I don't really know what else to say to her. She takes another drink and then takes a bite of the ham salad on toast. I follow her lead and take a bite out of the lobster spread.

"I don't want to get married." she confides.

"No? Marriage is a beautiful thing. Or so I'm told." I take another sip of my drink.

"You mean eternal slavery to a man who will fuck you and treat you like a servant? No thanks. I'd rather die, to be honest. I would hate to be stifled. That's what would happen you know. I'd be chained and continually stifled. Intellectually, physically, et cetera."

I hold my tongue. Jahan takes another sip of her drink under her veil. I've never seen her face or even the hint of her face. She is so angry at the thought of being stifled, but she continues to wear her veil. She astounds me sometimes.

"I love alcohol." she says. "Why is it forbidden? Pork and shellfish are delicious as well. You know, a friend of mine has been buying these things for me on the sly and I really don't understand why they are wrong. Of course, my father and brothers would kill me if they found out I was drinking and eating these things."

"Why?" I ask.

"Why would they kill me? I thought that was obvious enough."

"Why are you doing this? Why break all the rules? Why be here with me?"

"To say I did it, I suppose. I am an atheist, I think. I don't believe in God or Allah. The Prophet was a man. Jesus was a man. How is he different from any other mythological half-mortal?"

"But you still pray towards Mecca. You still cover yourself in a burqa and niqab. You still celebrate holy days with your family."

"I know. I am the worst kind of atheist. A hypocritical one. I wish I could give it up. Truth be told I am afraid. My family would disown me. I would lose everyone I love. Quietly, I disobey and I do what I want. But I would never do something they could find out about and disown me for."

Again, I hold my tongue. I think Jahan senses my uneasiness. She scoots closer to me.

"Do you know the real reason I am with you right now? Why I suggested, out of the blue, that we should come here and drink?"

"Why?" I look into her gray eyes.

"Because I want you. I have been daydreaming about this moment for quite some time now. I don't want to get married to the man my parents want me to because I'm a lesbian. I spend so much time with you because you are a beautiful woman. I've known for a time, but had not found someone I was comfortable with until you."

I don't know what to say. Without a word she begins to undo her niqab. At first, I look away. This is really fast. Clark and I just broke up yesterday and now I'm in my apartment with a rebellious young woman who is attracted to me. Who I'm attracted to as well. If I am going to sleep around, I might as well do it one after another right?

I feel a little like a postulate whose Goddess is about to be revealed. Is that weird? I feel like I shouldn't be the first person to see her unveiled, like I'm unworthy of it. I sense her stop more than I see it.

"Do you not want this? Should I leave?" She sounds like she may cry at whatever my answer may be. Is it the alcohol talking? Or is this what she truly wants? There is no going back from this.

I look at her. Afraid for her, slightly aroused by her impulsiveness and intrigued by the woman underneath all the cloth.

"Are you ready for the consequences?" I ask. I sound a little like Noah just now.

Her answer is a meek nod. She unwinds and detaches the niqab. Just as I suspected she is beautiful. Her hair is black and curly. A raven cascade of curls reaching to the middle of her back. Her skin is creamy in complexion and she has a small smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She has a pierced nose and a tiny beauty mark on her left cheek. She smiles at me nervously.

"You're beautiful." I whisper. I don't know why, but I feel a little awed.

"Do you want me too?" she whispers, following my vocal lead.

"Yes and no." I restrain myself from reaching out to touch her face.

"Let's make it only yes." She touches my lips and then kisses me. I kiss her back, finding myself more aroused than I thought I was. All thoughts of Clark or David or how fast everything is moving evaporate. My fingers tangle in her curls. She explores not only my mouth, but my body as well. She is tender though she is slightly frenzied. I find I am in a bit of a frenzy too.

A thought bubbles up. This is probably her first sexual experience with anyone but herself. I will be her first, like David was my first. I find that I don't want to pause for this thought. Instead I kiss her down and along her jawline to her throat. We practically tear off her burqa in our haste. Underneath she is wearing a long sleeve black shirt and long black yoga pants. those are quickly removed to reveal a lacy pink thong with snowflakes on it and a white lace bra.

She stops a moment, breathless. I moan in frustration. Not just because of the sexual heat building up between us, but because my mind returns to the thought of me being her first. She smiles, a sweet dimpled smile, and kisses me lightly on the mouth.

"Are you okay?" I ask. As miserable as I would be I don't want her to do something she doesn't want to. And the longer she hesitates the more I think that I don't want to be her first and then leave her. Because I will leave her. At some point it will end. Just like with Clark, I can't fall in love with her. The sexual feelings come up again, entangled with my thoughts. Can a woman experience blue balls? If so, I am feeling it right now.

"Yes," she breathes. We stand up together and I begin to unhook her bra. The guilt that has been warring with my libido begins to get the best of me. Before I reveal her complete nakedness, I stop.

"What's the matter?" she asks. She looks concerned.

"I can't do this right now. Not like this." I pick up her clothes off of the floor.

"What do you mean you can't? Is there something wrong with me?"

"No! There is nothing wrong with you! Nothing at all. I just... I don't know. I want you. I've been attracted to you for a while now. I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me? Hurt me how?" We sit down again and I look at her beautiful face.

"I only just broke up with my boyfriend. Give me a few days, okay? We'll try all of this again in a few days."

She looks frustrated, confused and a little hurt. It is so beautiful to be able to see the emotions, if only they were happier emotions.

"I promise." I say, kissing her. "It will be worth the wait."