Across the Ocean (4 page)

“I am only working a half day today, so I thought we could go for dinner together while we wait for Emilia to close shop,” Sóley tells me while placing dirty plates and coffee cups onto a tray. It all sounds good to me, and I tell her as much.

Sóley is adorable. She has very fine and curly dark-blonde hair. It’s pretty wild even though it seems almost weightless, if that means anything. She’s wearing a fancy grey tank top, with tricky crisscross straps and a loose, elegant waist. She’s got a great smile, dimples, and her eyes always seem to have a little twinkle in them.

Over the
years, I’ve learned that she has been studying fashion at the university, and is planning on moving to Italy some day in the future to better her education.

Sóley is definitely someone I could see myself being great friends with, if I lived here. I feel comfortable around her, and I really enjoy her company.

******

My day has been fun and eventful. I
’ve eaten a tasty bruschetta (I’ve never had bruschetta before!) in their little café. We end up heading down a street called Laugavegur when Sóley was finished working. I’m not so certain that it’s a real word, but I try my best to do it justice anyways. “Lay-a-vegg-ur,” or some strange mouthful. It’s apparently
the
street downtown and it is lined with tons of small tourist shops, designer clothing stores, cafés, fancy restaurants, and a ton of people.

This city is really beautiful. The streets are kind of like gray cobblestones in some places, and a lot of the buildings are very old, or even the same ones that were originally built here. There are tall, green light posts topped with bright yellow fake tulips to keep it festive in the summer
, I think. It certainly feels festive for me as a tourist.

Sóley tells me it
’s normal to have so many tourists horde to Iceland during this season because the best weather of the year is in summer. We’ve finished eating some really delicious burgers at a place called Hresso. They really know how to make a burger in this country (even though it cost me $16 due to the conversion rate, so it better be good). A term they like to use here is “sweaty burger” which implies that it is pretty much dripping all over the place with hamburger sauce. They also put red bell pepper (or they call it paprika) and cucumbers instead of pickles. It tasted so fresh like that; I think I’ll be adding cucumbers to all of my future burgers
. Yummy
.

******

Sóley and I are heading back to Vör, where Emilia and Lára are preparing to finish their shift for the evening. It’s around 7pm and we’ve just spent our time getting to know each other a bit better. We plan to head to the bar next door to meet up with Valur and apparently Ari. My stomach is beginning to roll a bit after consuming way too much burger and fries along with anxiety about meeting Ari for the first time. I know I can pull this off, but Lára is going to be here too and I’m not really sure exactly how I’m supposed to behave or interact with him when she’s around.

Everyone knows about the “almost” relationship Ari and I have had, and I wonder if they
’re at all anxious about it, too. Is Lára worried? Is she insecure and wondering if I might somehow steal him away from her?
Can I even do that
? Would he leave her for me?
Do I want him to
? It’s impossible to know the answer to those questions now. I will just have to wait and see. Anything right now is purely speculation.

Emilia, Lára, Sóley and I head next door and order our beers at the bar. There aren
’t a lot of people here at the moment, and the girls tell me it’s too early for the Icelandic nightlife to come out. I’m told that it only gets busy around midnight. They lead me through a door to an outside patio for customers who smoke and just don’t want to sit inside. We all grab a chair and surround one of the many empty tables.

Valur and Ari aren
’t here yet, and I chug quite a bit of my beer in hopes of calming my nerves. I try my best to focus on calming down.

I can barely even sit still in my chair. I
’m drumming my fingers on my thighs and my feet are tapping nervously. I’m constantly checking the door that leads back inside the bar for the guys. I’m desperately hoping that my nervousness isn’t something the girls can notice. I’m really trying as hard as possible to be smooth and cool.
Chill the fuck out, Brooke! Get it together!

The hairs on the back of my neck start to rise and I get a bit of a tingly sensation through my body.
Aiming to be as nonchalant as possible, I sit up a little straighter in my seat and try to sneak a glance at the door to see if it is opening. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try not to appear too eager. Truth be told, my palms are really sweaty and my pulse is going apeshit. This is a very important moment in my life and I’m really scared it’s not going to go anything like I want it to. I suddenly hear the door to the patio open and know that this is it.

Ari walks out on the patio wearing a red beanie that is covering his hair that goes down to mid neck. His dark denim jeans look comfortable but not too tight and his shirt has a picture of a whale fin with some crude dude statement about killing them all. He is approximately 6 foot 2 (187 cm, if you think like that), with golden-tanned skin from working in the sunny outdoors.

He has s
lightly wavy golden brown hair lightened by the sun. Large, round clear blue eyes accompany a full lower lip. The most adorable V-shaped creases next to his mouth from smiling so much. His strong cheekbones give away his Scandinavian roots, and he reminds me of a Viking with his hair like this. He used to always wear it short.

He
’s so handsome. I can hardly keep my eyes off of him, but I swear I’m trying my hardest. I feel like one of those bugs that are drawn to the light that kills them. He saunters over to our table with a lazy smirk across his mouth and a twinkle in his blue eyes. He’s not looking at me though. He’s looking at everyone else.

He places his beer
onto our table, grabs a chair from the table beside us, and drags it over next to Lára. I’m not really sure he’s even seen me yet. Although, I imagine that it’s pretty difficult not to notice me, given the circumstances.

“Ari, I
’d like you to officially meet Brooke, face to face,” Emilia introduces us. I watch as his eyes swing over to me without making direct eye contact, and the grin on his face falters for just a moment before he leans over the table to shake my hand.

“It
’s so great to finally meet you in person, Brooke,” he sounds like he means it. That’s a good thing.

“You
’ve gotta be kidding me with the handshake,” I joke. I stand up to grab him in a hug and pat his back noisily to assure everyone around me (and myself) that it’s just a friendly thing. It’s totally not. I’m touching him and my brain is short-circuiting with his proximity, his warmth, and, oh god, his scent.

In all these years
I’ve never been able to smell him. I haven’t given it thought until this moment. Cologne and a clean smelling man are a huge turn on for me.
If I had known in advance that Ari was going to smell so goddamn delicious, I might have rethought this whole hug crap
.

This
embrace is terribly awkward and I immediately regret instigating it. My head is feeling a little dizzy just from his proximity, but when his eyes swoop down and connect with mine for a second that feels like eternity, warmth fills my entire body. All of this feels so very contradictory.

We quickly retreat
from each other and resume sitting in our chairs. Most of us jump into normal conversation. Well, I try for normal. I’m not really feeling very conversational, so I keep my contribution to really short sentences. After a while, I realize that Ari hasn’t really been saying much either.

Besides a quick greeting to Valur after he finally arrives too, Ari is
mostly silent. He has followed my lead and kept his talking to the basics. There is a slight smile on his face, but I can just feel that something is off somehow. He’s always been a chatterbox. Plus, he won’t look at me or in the direction of my side of the table.

Part of me wants to stand on top of the table and cause a huge scene, waving my arms and yelling at him to notice me. Sure, that sounds like something a 5 year old might do.
Like I said, just part of me wants to do it
.

Who knows
? Maybe I’m completely mistaken, since I’m too busy trying to discreetly look at him out of the corner of my eye without anyone noticing. It could seem as if I don’t want to look at him, either. I can’t even concentrate on what the conversation around me is about. I’m so busy trying to pretend like I don’t care. It’s exhausting, and this sucks.

He
’s sitting right across from me, and everything that I ever dreamed would come to pass with this guy is never going to happen. All these years of whatever it was between us that we had shared together is for naught. It all comes down to us pretending we don’t even know or like each other. What a waste.

My beer is gone and I
’m realizing that I’m really tired. All of this is too much for me, so I give Emilia a look that conveys my desire to leave. She whispers into Valur’s ear, probably to tell him it was time to get going. Then she stands up and smiles at everyone at the table.

“I think we
’re going to head home. I’m sure Brooke has some jet lag. Are you ready to go?” The expression on her face makes it clear that she understands how uncomfortable this is for me.

“Yeah, I
’m ready.” I stand up and slide my jacket on, grab my phone, and place it into my jacket pocket. I wave at Sóley, Lára, and Ari. The girls wave back while Ari grins a bit and nods at me. We walk back into the bar, out the front, and head home.

******

Early 2004

Brooke is in California.

I hear the doorbell ring and head out of my bedroom to answer the door. My dad
beats me to it, so I head towards the kitchen instead to find something to munch on.

“Wow, someone had flowers delivered to them
.” He walks into the kitchen holding a rose pink glass vase full of flowers in pink, magenta, red, and white, and sets them on the counter.

“Did you get these for Mom?” I sniff at them. They are really beautiful.

“No, they’re for you.” My dad pulls a little card from the bouquet and hands it to me.

My mom walks into the kitchen and sees the flowers.

“Are those from your stalker?” She could be teasing me, except for the fact that I actually do have a pretty harmless stalker named Davey, and they
could
be from him. Thankfully, when I open the card, I see that they’re not.

Every beautiful girl deserves to be given flowers on Valentine’s Day,

Will you be my Valentine?

Ari

I’ve never been given flowers before. Ari knows this. Valentine’s Day isn’t celebrated in Iceland, and he had to find a way to get these delivered to me by a company here in San Diego. That takes a lot of dedication. It’s a few days before Valentine’s Day, but who cares! This is literally the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. My eyes are burning with unshed tears, my throat tightening to keep them from flowing, and I sniffle a bit.

“They
’re from Ari,” I say in a small voice, a bit overwhelmed with feelings. My parents have heard of Ari, and they know how often he and I talk. They don’t mind, because what real harm can come from talking to a guy who lives in another country? Besides, I’m an adult, and they can mind their own damn business. Just kidding; love you guys.

My mind is going crazy at the implications of this gesture. The effort he had to put into it
and the thoughtfulness of doing something so romantic is astounding. Surely this has to mean that he feels more strongly for me than just flirty friends, right? Have we crossed into a higher relationship without realizing it?

We are really close. I tell him all of my secrets. I trust him. I can count on him to talk with me multiple times a week and I kind of plan my life around those times. Why the hell do I have to be so far away from him? Why does it feel like the best thing that could ever happen to me isn
’t within my reach? I’m never going to forget this. I think I kind of love him.

******

Present time

2007

While r
elaxing in my bed after we get home from the bar, I turn on my laptop and log into MSN chat. I can see that Ari is online, so I stare at his screen name, willing him to message me. I’m scared to initiate conversation. I can’t fully comprehend what happened earlier. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave right now. I’m not exactly sure what I expected to happen. Obviously, I had hoped that he and I could interact on a normal, friendly level without tension or awkwardness. I didn’t realize that it was too much to ask for.

If I
’m honest with myself, I secretly wanted him to look at me, talk to me, and flirt with me. I wanted him to jump the table and tell Lára to fuck off because he was mine now. I wanted him to want me so much after seeing me for the first time that he just had to have me, and to hell with the consequences. I think a small fanciful spot in my mind hoped that it might be a possibility.

I
’ve come to learn that there are always two parts of the mind: the dark, dirty part that always thinks of the things you would never admit to anyone, because you know they’d judge you and the mean, spiteful, selfish things you think about. They’re all there.

Then there is the realistic, moral side. This is the side that comes out in the open for most people, where they say the right things, want the right things, and
are selfless and giving. We all have both sides. Make no mistake in thinking that you don’t. Sometimes, I think my dark side isn’t so far under the surface. It burns for Ari and craves for him to crave me. I’m almost desperate to claim back a piece of what we had online over the years. I’m kind of frightened by its intensity and how difficult it is for me to control this part.

My realistic, moral side helps talk me down. She reminds me that I feel guilty for thinking these thoughts and that Lára doesn
’t deserve for me to come between the two of them. It doesn’t matter what I will be missing out on and sacrificing to keep it that way.

The hardest knowledge is that I cannot kiss him. I can
never
kiss him. After everything is said and done, I’m going to leave this country and probably never return. I press the palm of my hand over my heart. A sense of loss is filling me as I’m realizing that I can never behave with him the way I used to, lighthearted and carefree. I can never flirt with him or be the person I’ve always been with him. I will have to monitor everything I do and say around him with everyone because they all know about the history between Ari and me, including Lára.

Are they feeling weird too? Do they think I
’m going to try something or that I would come between the two of them? A huge weight is starting to press on my shoulders while I think of all of this. I’m really hoping that my time here doesn’t get ruined by stupid drama. I’ll just have to be on my best behavior. Give no one any reason to question or suspect me.

My dark side isn
’t very happy at all.

I hear a beep from my computer telling me I have a new message.

marxist:
Are you up?

I blink a bit. I wonder if his ears are burning. I know I can do this whole just friends thing, or at least try my very best.

salemsme:
Yeah, I’m here. It was really nice to finally meet you today. :)

marxist:
It was great. You’re just as beautiful in person. I always wondered if you would be when I saw you.

I
’m a little shocked and really flattered. I didn’t realize we could still talk like this to each other.
Isn’t this considered flirting
? Is every nice thing a non-single guy says to a single female considered flirting? I feel like everything between us is unsteady, uncertain, and ready to fall over with the slightest touch. I don’t know where I stand, and now that I don’t have the safety of the oceans that separated us, I don’t know what is or isn’t okay. When I was far away, I probably would have flirted a bit even if he was seeing someone. That’s just the way we’ve grown to communicate.

salemsme:
I thought the same thing about you. You’re a mega babe!

Maybe he
’ll think I’m joking. I see that he’s typing back, and hope I didn’t just cross the line somehow.

marxist:
I was hoping that I could show you around a bit tomorrow, do the whole tourist thing, except more awesome. I know a lot about Icelandic history, and I can give you a better tour than someone who’s paid for it.

A whole day with Ari showing me the city, with no one supervising us? Where do I sign up?

salemsme:
Wow, that’d be great. You don’t have any other plans? I won’t be getting in your way?

marxist:
No, I think I’m the perfect guy for the job. I don’t have work tomorrow, and the girls are working until after dinner.

You
’re the perfect guy to
get in my pants
. I roll my eyes at myself and decide to cut the conversation short before I start typing what I’m thinking.

salemsme:
I look forward to it. I’m heading to bed. See you tomorrow.

marxist:
Sweet dreams.

******

My next afternoon is kind of uneventful, as I’m practically staring the clock down in anticipation of some alone time with Ari. I probably shouldn’t look at it that way, but once we can get away from everyone else, I think we can both relax and just be ourselves.