Before We Were Strangers (11 page)

We lay in the hazy light, teetering on the brink of sleep. “My mother taught me.”

“What?” That woke me up. “Your mom taught you what?”

“Well, she’s kind of a hippie-feminist. It’s not that she showed me what to do. She was always trying to teach my brother and me how to treat women equally, and I guess this was just part of it.”

“And so . . . ?”

“She gave me a book on the female orgasm and basically said, ‘Don’t be an asshole.’ ”

I laughed so hard that my body curled into a little ball. “Wow!” I chuckled. “I really like your mom, Matt.”

“You two would get along.”

“So you read the book?” I asked.

“Every goddamn page. Many times.”

“Well, you certainly aced the practical test, although I’m sure it wasn’t the first time you’ve taken it.”

“No more talking, Gracie. Close your eyes.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet your mom sometime.”

“Yeah.” It was quiet for few minutes. “I hope.”

I woke up alone the next morning. On my nightstand sat a bagel, coffee, and a note.

G-

I had to run . Daria had bagels so I snagged one for you . Just eat it, don’t smell it first, or else you’ll catch a whiff of fish sticks.
What is wrong with her?! I have to work tonight, but you should come to the PhotoHut so we can talk and figure things out. I’m going home to California for Christmas. You want to come with? You can meet my mom and thank her for my mad skills. Peace, M

The thought of spending Christmas with him put a huge smile on my face.

GRACE

I hung out with Tati in Washington Square Park all afternoon. We were supposed to practice but we ended up smoking a joint, and I gave her the details about last night. I believe her reaction was, “I can’t believe you experienced the big O. That’s like skipping ten steps and going straight to boning- for-years status.” I blushed about ten shades of pink.

The weather quickly got cold and gloomy, and when I left Tati at the park, I felt the first drop of rain hit my cheek.
Fuck.
I had six blocks to go, no umbrella or money to spare for a cab, and an enormous cello.

In the time it took me to get to the PhotoHut, the skies opened up and I was soaked within minutes. As I ran into the store, the door jingled but Matt wasn’t behind the counter.

“Gracie, I’m in here!” he yelled from the back room.

“How’d you know it was me?” I yelled back.

I turned the corner and found him sitting at a desk with
one small desk lamp on. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “I could just tell.”

“Prove it.”

Matt laughed. “You swing the door all the way open to accommodate your cello case, even when you’re not carrying it. The bell jingles a second longer with you than the average customer.”

He looked up from his dimly lit desk and saw me. “Jesus. You’re freezing, Grace.”

He stood and hurried toward me, taking the cello from my hands. “It’s pouring,” I said, and then a visible shiver snaked through my body. My numb fingers made it impossible to unbutton my jacket. Matt quickly undid the buttons for me and pushed my peacoat off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. He wrapped his tall body around me, and within seconds I was warm.

“I was in the park with Tati and then it started raining.”

“Shh, you’re drenched, you should get out of these clothes.” He let go of me and began searching the cabinet for something while I checked to make sure my cello case wasn’t wet on the inside.

He came toward me with a towel. “I knew these were in here somewhere. Do you want to take your sweater off and I can throw it in the dryer?”

“There’s a dryer here?”

“Well, it’s a print dryer. It’s like a big hot roller, but at least you won’t be freezing while you’re here.”

“I can just go home.”

His brow furrowed.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Don’t you think we should talk?”

“I guess we should talk,” I said, hesitantly. I went to lift my sweater over my head and noticed his eyes were fixed on me. “Turn around.” I said.

“I’ve seen you really naked, Grace.”

“So what? Turn around, creeper.”

He obliged but laughed. “You’re a dork.”

I threw the sweater at the back of his head and then quickly wrapped myself in the towel. Matt went to the corner and fidgeted with the dials on the rolling dryer while I wheeled around in one of the office chairs, propelling myself in circles, faster and faster.

When he was done, he found another chair, pushed off, and came sailing at me across the linoleum floor. “Bumper cars!” he shouted, right before he knocked into me and sent us both falling to the ground.

“Is this your definition of us
talking
?” I said as he hovered over me, a mischievous grin on his face.

He leaned down, kissed the tip of my nose, and then popped up to his feet, offering a hand to help me up. I clung to the towel as I found my seat again. There was nothing clumsy about his movements, and he was always self-assured. I found that incredibly sexy.

Rolling his chair up to me so that we were face-to-face, he grinned again. “You gonna go to California with me for Christmas, or were you planning on going home to your parents?”

“I can’t really afford either one.” I looked down at my hands in my lap. Even though he knew my circumstances, it was still hard not to feel embarrassed.

“I’ll pay for your flight to go home and see your parents. I’d love for you to come with me, but I don’t want to be selfish.”

I wanted to be with him, and even though I missed my family, I felt like I was going to miss him more if we were apart for three weeks. “You really want me to meet your parents?”

“Yeah, Grace. I do.”

“It’d be awesome to see California. I’ve never been.”

“Then it’s settled. Oh, one other thing”—he gave a cocky sideways smirk—“you asked me to have sex with you last night. Do you remember?”

Instant blush. “Of course I remember. I wasn’t that drunk.”

“So . . . what does that makes us?”

“What do you think?” I came back quickly.

“Do you want to date? Or were you just looking for someone to lose your virginity to?”

I tucked the towel under my arms, leaned back, and glared. “Well, isn’t there a word for friends that mess around?”

“Yeah, it’s a called girlfriend and boyfriend.” There was a strange expression on his face, like he was waiting for me to react.

“But we should keep it casual, right?”

“Well, we both have to study a lot, plus I’m going away this summer and you’re gearing up for grad school.”

Everything froze. “You’re going away?”
How the hell did I not know that?

“Yeah.” He stood and walked to the counter to retrieve a piece of paper and handed it to me. It was a letter from
National Geographic
informing Matt that he had been chosen for an internship.

I reread it twice and looked up to see him wearing a huge, proud smile. Even though my eyes were selfishly tearing up, I stood and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you! Congratulations, Matt, I can’t believe it. I mean, I can because you’re
amazing, but this is such an opportunity. Gosh . . . to be the only undergrad student they picked.”

“I know, I was shocked. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner; I was just nervous about jinxing it.”

I kept looking down at the letter. “It’s so great! I’m really proud of you.”

“I’ll be gone this summer, and when I come back you’ll be in grad school. Hopefully I’ll have a job, if everything goes as planned.”

I couldn’t believe Matt was leaving. I had such mixed feelings, but I knew it was the best option for him. “So for now . . . we just keep it casual?”

“I don’t want to date anyone else and I don’t want to find you getting accosted in the hallway either, but we can call it casual if you want,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Okay what, Grace?”

“I don’t want anyone else either.”
Ever.

An odd smell wafted into the room just then. I sniffed the air and my eyes widened. Burnt wool. “My sweater!”

“Shit!” Matt jumped up and ran over to the dryer. He hit a button and then pulled out what was left of my favorite article of clothing. “Oh, man, guess you’ll have to stay here naked.” He tried to hold back the laughter.

“That’s not funny, Matt. That was my favorite sweater.”

He threw it onto the desk and pulled me up into his arms. “You don’t need this.” Tossing the towel aside, he began kissing my shoulder and neck. I tilted my head, giving him full access, just as the bells on the front door jingled.

“Crap!” I jumped out of his arms and grabbed the towel off the
floor while he made his way to the storefront. I heard a familiar voice. It was Dan.

I stood by the wall and listened to the conversation.

“Hi, Matthew.”

“It’s Matt.”

“Hi, Matt. Tatiana told me I could find Grace here.”

“Yeah, um . . . she’s kind of busy at the moment.”

“I just need to talk to her for a minute.”

I couldn’t tell what Matt’s face looked like, but if I had to guess, I’d bet he was amused.

“Dude, she’s in the back room half naked.”

“Um . . . what . . .” Dan fumbled for words.

Matt took pity on him. “She came in here drenched from the rain so she’s sitting in the back in a towel until her clothes dry.”

I raised a brow.
Never mind that we were about to make out.

“Oh.”

“Hi, Dan!” I yelled.

“Hi, Grace. I think we should talk.”

“Can it wait until class on Friday?”

“Yeah, I guess.” There was long pause. I wondered if Matt was staring him down. “Let’s do that. See ya.”

They said good-bye to each other very kindly and then I heard the door jingle once again. A minute later Matt was back and I was still standing in my damp jeans with a white towel wrapped around my shoulders like a spiffy shawl.

“I have to close up in a few.” He clapped his hands once. “So what did we decide again?”

“I think we decided that we’re just going to do what feels right.” He nodded as I spoke. “Just with each other . . . until you leave.”

All the sounds from the machines stopped. It was completely silent and still.

“Friends forever, though, right?” He studied my face carefully, and it looked as if he were cataloging the memory.

It was impossible to look away from him.

Friends forever might have been a tired expression, but when he asked, it was like music or poetry. I knew it meant something else. I knew it meant
I need you in my life
. I tried to detect some humor in his voice, but there was nothing . . . just a request. We stood there, so young and so sure about each other. The cold, dank room suddenly filled with light. Matt’s eyes twinkled and I felt dizzy as warmth spread from my head to my toes. His hands were open, reaching out to me, inviting me in for a hug, but I couldn’t move; I had been reduced to a puddle of emotions just from the look on his face.

You can’t re-create the first time you promise to love someone or the first time you feel loved by another. You cannot relive the sensation of fear, admiration, self-consciousness, passion, and desire all mixed into one because it never happens twice. You chase it like the first high for the rest of your life. It doesn’t mean you can’t love another or move on; it just means that the one spontaneous moment, the split second that you took the leap, when your heart was racing and your mind was muddled with
What ifs?
—that moment—will never happen the same way again. It will never feel as intense as the first time. At least, that’s the way I remember it. That’s why my mother always said we memorialize our past. Everything seems better in a memory.

“Yes, forever,” I said, finally.

GRACE

Two weeks later, we were packing to go to California for Christmas break. We had seen little of each other since the night at the PhotoHut, with both of us totally drowning during finals and Matt working overtime to pay for my flight to California.

“Where are we staying when we get there?”

“We’ll stay at my mom’s. She has a tiny house in Pasadena, but there’s a spare bedroom. It’s better than my dad’s; they actually have staff there. It’s ridiculous.” He was sitting on a big purple beanbag in the corner of my room, flipping through
National Geographic
, his jean-clad legs spread wide and his shoes kicked off. He looked comfortable and relaxed in his Sonic Youth T-shirt and paperboy hat.

“What do you mean by ‘staff’?”

He waved his hand around vaguely. “Like maids and shit.”

“Oh.” I suddenly felt nervous. Even if we weren’t staying
there, I knew we were going to have to meet his dad, brother, and stepmom at some point, and I wondered what they would think of me. Poor, pathetic Grace in her piecemeal, thrift-store wardrobe.

“Don’t freak out Grace, it’s all an act with them. Just be yourself. You’re perfect.” He put down the magazine and looked up at me. “By the way, what did Pornsake want the other day when he came looking for you at the store?”