One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (10 page)

If he gave in to Brad’s preferred method of
conflict resolution, how would Marisa react?

Would she would rush over to Brad (after
all, he was her date tonight) and console him, while admonishing
Alexander for pummeling him? On the other hand, if Brad won, would
Marisa be angry at him? It seemed that, no matter how he responded,
he couldn’t win.

Brad, however, wouldn’t face such dubious
distinction, unless he started the fight, which explained why he
baited Alexander to throw the first punch. After all, battling a
smaller opponent wouldn’t win Marisa over. But if Alexander engaged
him in conflict, Brad could justify his actions by saying that he
needed to protect himself. So no matter what Alexander did, he
would come out looking like a loser.

Brad smirked as he stepped closer. “You
think you’re man enough? Huh?”

CHAPTER SIX

“I didn’t expect to see that,” Lauren said,
shock registering on her face.

Marisa followed her gaze. And saw Brad
staring down at Alexander, pulling back his right arm, preparing to
launch it. “My God.” Without a second thought, she hurried in their
direction.

“Wait,” Lauren said, grasping her arm and
pulling her to a stop. “You can’t get in the middle of that.”

Marisa couldn’t keep her eyes off the
standoff 60 feet away. “But…” She tried to throw off Lauren’s hand,
but her friend’s vice-like grip thwarted that outcome. She pounded
on Lauren’s wrist, but she still couldn’t unclamp her hand. “Let
go.”

Lauren tugged like a person holding a dog
leash, only to have her pet chase after a squirrel without warning.
She regained her footing a couple seconds later and stomped her
feet into the ground, holding Marisa stable.

Seven or eight women at a few nearby tables
noticed the altercation and perked up.

“Alexander will never forgive you,” Lauren
said, “if you get in between them.”

That statement cut through the anxiety in
Marisa’s mind, convincing her to halt all movement. Lauren’s
argument made sense: if she got in between both men, Alexander
would accuse her of coming to his rescue, in essence calling him a
coward.

Seven or eight women at a table nearby
directed their attention in the direction Marisa had headed. One of
them, a woman with radiant hair the color of a summer sunset,
grasped the long silver necklace lying against bosoms that
threatened to bust loose from her tight sweater. “A fight. So cool.
I’m betting on the dude with the cool ink.” Her red lips grinned as
she turned to her three friends. “Any takers.”

Marisa also presumed that Brad would pound
Alexander into a pulp, but she felt the need to stick up for her
best friend. She strode toward the big-chested woman. “I’ll take
that bet. Fifty bucks says you’re wrong.”

“Really? Done.” She turned to Brad and
Alexander. “Oh, wait,” she said, annoyed. “Is this just a staring
contest? To see who blinks first? How pathetic. Two grown men. One
daring the other to throw the first punch. The other too afraid to
do anything.” She turned to Marisa. “My bet is void if they fight
dirty. Agreed? I mean that’s the only way your little guy is going
to win.”

Marisa, no longer eager to simply prove this
woman wrong, took umbrage to the woman calling Alexander her
“little guy.” She closed the distance between them. “You’re going
to get hurt if you keep running your mouth.” She glanced at the
three women at the table beside her, who looked like they’d pull
hair and gouge eyeballs if the situation called for it. For
whatever reason, Marisa actually sought to relieve her tension by
getting violent. But why? Because Alexander would have done the
same thing for her? Or because best friends demanded full-support
without question? The reason didn’t matter. All that mattered was
that she had his back. And she always would.

“Come on,” Lauren said. “This is just a
friendly wager. No physical contact, ladies.”

“Hello stranger!” said a buxom blond in the
group, obviously distracted by something other than the potential
fight. “Who’s Mr. Yummy?”

A handsome man who seemed too smooth, as if
he had studied how to walk and how to cast a severe look from a
book, walked toward Brad with a dangerous glare, giving Marisa the
impression that he would somehow end the quarrel before it even
began. And while she hoped for that outcome, she sensed that this
man wasn’t a bouncer, which only left one other possibility,
considering that he came straight from the restroom and didn’t
gesture to anyone on his way toward Brad: he was Alexander’s
friend. For that reason alone, she lowered her defenses, curious at
how the situation before her would play out.

*

“What’s going on?” Damon asked, stepping
between both men to grab a fistful of peanuts from a bowl on the
countertop of the bar. He remained where he stood and met Brad eye
to eye as he popped a few peanuts in his mouth. Then his face
twisted in disgust. “I hate Macadamia nuts.” He lifted his eyebrows
at Brad. “I suggest you move. Before I spit these in your
face.”

Alexander removed his fists from his
pockets.

Brad, unwilling to take his eyes off
Alexander, held his gaze for a few more seconds then stepped aside.
Something on the floor caught his attention and he knelt down to
inspect it before rising and walking back towards Marisa.

Alexander felt fortunate not to have gotten
into a physical altercation; he remembered all too clearly that
fight he was involved in so many years ago. He had stood up to a
bully and handed him a one-sided punishment, and no one had ever
threatened him again. But in doing so he had ostracized
himself.

Suspecting that others might fear him enough
to avoid him altogether, Alexander developed a quick-wit to
encourage others to include him in conversations. But it didn’t
work. Because so many people had heard about the fight and how he’d
hospitalized another kid with a broken nose and a cracked rib, they
regarded his self-admonishing behavior as an act.

Although he tried out for the football team,
after a few brutal hits on teammates during try-outs, his coach
didn’t go with conventional wisdom by making him a star defensive
player but cut him. He’d considered him a liability since his
brutality might injure fellow teammates during daily practices.

Dispirited, Alexander didn’t bother trying
out for wrestling, assuming that the coach would respond the same
way. And baseball, basketball, band, theater, debate, and other
like-minded groups never interested him. It resulted in a loner
mentality that allowed him to focus on his studies, which turned
him into an honor student. He hoped this accomplishment would
persuade other kids to put aside their prejudices. But since he
didn’t really fit into any category, which could have increased his
popularity among different cliques, he soon found himself without
any specific group to identify with.

To pass the time, Alexander lifted weights
and built up his body to become more attractive to girls, but it
only reinforced his image as mean and troublesome, even though no
one took the chance to find out if he really did personify that
reputation. He turned to books to pass the time and read
voraciously from all genres. The library felt like the only “safe”
environment to spend his time: a place where no one would judge
him, where no one would talk about him behind his back.

Before long, library staff members began
recommending titles for him to read and began discussing life and
literature with him. Because of these close relationships, they
recommended that he apply for a Page position, which entailed
shelving books, setting up meeting rooms for programs, and other
simple tasks. A year later, he got promoted to Circulation Clerk,
which allowed him to interact with the public, thereby increasing
his comfort level with others. The job helped him pay his way
through college, and since the library felt like a second home,
Alexander decided to move up in the field by getting his Masters in
Library Science degree.

Soon enough, he got a librarian position at
the very library he started at. But a few years later, seeking a
new challenge, he applied for the Adult Services Department Head
position at the Bedford Falls Public Library and got the job. He’d
always counted himself as lucky to have succeeded in his career
without many obstacles. But it came at a price. His career
accomplishments had undermined his love life, or as Damon put it,
his close working relationship with women at work had depleted his
manhood. And this couldn’t be more perfectly exemplified than by
the scene now unfolding before him.

“Dude,” Damon said, following him, “who was
that?”

“Marisa’s…” He couldn’t…no, he wouldn’t let
the truth cross his lips. Brad’s comment echoed in his mind:
A
few years from now, I’ll be married to Marisa
. Alexander
couldn’t imagine going to their wedding, stepping on his own pride
as he shook Brad’s hand outside the church. He couldn’t imagine
going to their home during the holidays, only to watch Brad slide
up behind Marisa and curl his arm around her shoulders before
giving him that arrogant sneer.

A wave of self-loathing slammed into him,
triggering an even more overwhelming sense of powerlessness, of
failure. But these feelings had an unforeseen side effect: anger
whipped through him, making it clear that he could never endure
another experience like this one.

Something had to change. He had to change.
He didn’t like giving in (or backing down, depending on your
perspective) to someone who deserved a beating. He burst through
the door and turned left, heading for his car.

“What the hell was that about?” Damon asked
a few moments later, following him.

Alexander kept walking.

“Hey, man,” Damon said, catching his arm,
stopping him. His expression held the same concern that Marisa’s
had. “Was that Marisa’s boyfriend?”

“You know at the Oscars when a starlet goes
to the bathroom, she has someone take her seat? Well, that’s what
Brad is. A replacement.” Even if it wasn’t a serious relationship
now, the idea that it might one day lead to that set off another
spark of anger inside him.

“Sounds like it’s a perpetual thing. She
dumps a guy then hooks up with Brad.”

“She’s not hooking up with him.”

“Oh, really? What do you think they do when
they get home? Get out the cards and play
Go Fish
? No,
they’re snuggling up on the couch watching a movie. They’re making
out. They’re—”

Alexander rushed his friend, grabbed the
shirt under his chin, and drove him into the concrete wall behind
him.

Notching his chin high, Damon met his
intense glare with a smirk, letting it be known that he had no idea
what Marisa and Brad did in their spare time. He’d simply implied
possibilities to get under Alexander’s skin. “What are you going to
do, Alexander? You going to take a shot at me? Last I looked, I’m
not your enemy. It’s the guy slipping it to the one you love.”

“He’s not.”

Damon raised both hands and slammed down on
Alexander’s wrists, breaking his hold. He adjusted his shirt and
circled his friend. “Neither of us knows what’s going on with them.
So why don’t you do something about it and find out?”

Alexander couldn’t take it anymore. He felt
helpless, weak.

“Answer me this: why do you think Marisa
keeps going back to this guy?” Damon asked.

“She likes him.”

“Correction: she likes one or more aspects
of his personality. If she liked everything about him, she wouldn’t
let him go. And keep coming back to him. You know her best. What
about this bum does she like so much?”

He didn’t want to respond because doing so
was an admission that Marisa liked Brad in ways that Alexander
obviously couldn’t replicate. Otherwise, as Damon had said, she’d
be with him. But he decided to trust his friend and follow through
with this exercise. “He’s spontaneous. He likes fast cars, heavy
metal, taking things to the edge. He acts like a goofball, he’s
kind of perverted.” He looked up at Damon. “Man, I don’t know—”

“So…” he asked, expecting Alexander to draw
some conclusions.

“She likes someone who doesn’t take himself
too seriously, someone who can laugh at himself. But I do that. I’m
just not a pervert or anything.”

“You’re missing what she’s telling you. This
dude’s a pervert, you say? Maybe or maybe not. If he’s talking
about sex though, he’s saying he doesn’t mind talking about it with
Marisa. And that tells her that he’s not always thinking about it,
or when he does think about it, he doesn’t necessarily think about
having sex with her. Which makes her wonder why. It makes her
actually think of having sex with him.

“Women know guys think about sex. There’s no
denying that. Why not be upfront about it? Like it’s a fact of
life. That it can be fun. And if you don’t talk about it, she may
automatically assume that you’re thinking about it but are too
ashamed or scared to talk about it. It makes her feel like you’re
hiding something or that you’re trying to manipulate her into
having sex with you.”

“So I should tell her I want to have sex
with her?”

Damon smacked him upside the head. “That’s
for being a dumbass. What you failed to do with Marisa is encourage
her to find you attractive. You didn’t build any sexual tension.
Practically every woman wants her best male friend as her lover. So
she wants to find you attractive. I guarantee it.

“But you’ve failed. Big time. So she ends up
going to that moron, Brad. Focus on why Marisa called him tonight.
Because we know she did. She broke it off with some guy and she
needs something Brad can give her. And it doesn’t have anything to
do with sex.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”