Finals: NYC Midnight Madness 2010 Short Story Competition

Genre: Romance
Subject: Blindness

Left Hand Circles
Synopsis: Blinded by the confusion of adolescence, three friends grow up exploring the boundaries of friendship and lust all the while in search of love.

“When it hurts at least you know you’ve loved, right?” I asked peering into the depths of his eyes, searching for his heart.

“I guess.” Brett’s response was measured and his eyes dodged mine, “There’s no easy explanation for love.”

He wrapped his strong arms around me and I melted into their warmth. His chest was already damp from my tears. I had come straight to his house after having dinner with Nate. I couldn’t call ahead like I usually did. And I would have beat on his door until it opened or my hands were bloodied and swollen, whichever came first. He had seen the headlights in his driveway and stood waiting on his stoop. I collapsed into his embrace.

“Megan.” Was all he managed, choking on his own emotion. He already knew everything. At least I wouldn’t have to explain that one of our closest friends capably played with my heart leaving it in ruins again.

******

Brett, Nate and I had grown up together in the same small town. Living in a rundown apartment complex in the armpit of Ypsilanti Michigan we quickly got acquainted and began spending hours on mischievous end together. Our parents were hard working blue collar employees and it was their absence while struggling to provide a comfortable life for us that bonded us to each other.

Things got a little odd when we hit puberty and I started developing what they called 'traitor lumps' on my chest because they betrayed my gender but I fired right back poking my own fun at their deepening and cracking voices. During those years, because of the depth of our friendship, at times we got lost in confusion. Nate once dared me to show him my budding boobs saying I would be his first.

“C’mon Megan, who cares? We’re your closest friends. It’s not like we haven’t seen you with your shirt off before!”

“Whatever Nate, we were six year olds running through sprinklers. BIG difference now.”

Brett’s cheeks burned a brilliant shade of crimson, “I don’t want to see her traitor lumps any way dude. That’s sick! You’re the one that said Bridget Fox has the biggest tits in school, why don’t you try her.”

“Ooooo Bretty has a crush on Bridget!” Nate taunted thumping Brett’s shoulder hard while winking at me.

“Shut up pervert!” he snapped.

I quickly raised my shirt over my head in an attempt to avert the escalating tension. Flashing my atrocious training bra, I turned and ran from the room. They giggled like school girls with dumb founded pubescent delight and I called over my shoulder, “I’d never let Bridget show my best friends their first set of boobs!”

It wasn’t until high school that we grew apart somewhat. Brett and Nate were on the football team and I, devoid of any competent athletic skill pursued academia and the arts. Brett always walked me to school in the mornings but once on campus never gave me a second more of his time. Often I caught his gaze across the classroom though, or in the hallways and sometimes even during his football games. I never thought much of it but rather believed it was our mutual understanding as friends.

Nate grew into a six foot something, tall, dark and handsome type, the type that makes any school girl quiver. I started getting butterflies when he was around me and I hated that my hormones were interfering with our thriving friendship. I started to avoid him at school and around our apartment complex assured he was now too popular to notice.

“Megan!” I heard a voice call after me. Turning I saw Nate trotting my direction in the dusk of the fall afternoon. “Wait up.”

“Where’s Brett?” I asked when he finally stepped in stride with me not slowing my pace for an instant.

“Uh, he’s, I have no idea.” He said disarming me with his charming smile.

“That’s a rarity.” I replied not disguising the sarcasm.

“Hey, c’mon play nice beautiful. Why don’t you seem to have time for me lately?”

“I’m making time right now.”

His pace slowed and he grabbed my shoulder to turn my body towards his. “Look I know, I mean, I want you to know…I wanted you to be the first to know –”

“What?” with his hand still resting lightly on my shoulder, despite my guarded effort, I was melting into his sincerity.

“I-I, got a scholarship to play football next year at the University of Michigan and,” his voice trailed away and his eyes darted between my chest and face.

Though I tried I couldn’t conceal the giggle that bubbled up inwardly. It slipped past my lips and spilled into the awkward stillness. “What?”

His gaze lingered longer and his lips parted. With the hand resting on my shoulder he pulled me into him and our lips met. We kissed wildly in blind youthful lust. Discreetly sliding his left hand under my shirt he squeezed and caressed my breasts, tugging at the top of my bra just enough to tickle the soft pink skin with his fingertips. He eased out smirking now, “I haven’t forgotten when you showed me my first set of titties.”

“Ahem, technically you still haven’t seen them.” I teased pulling his arm from my shirt.

We walked the rest of the way hand in hand. And he kissed me again when we reached my front door, promising me he would come back from college for me someday. In confused naivety I thought what I felt for him was love, I thought he loved me. But later that year he proved me wrong by falling for the captain of the cheerleading squad, Bridget Fox.

******

The voicemail was left with his usual playful banter, “Megs, its Brett. I was just calling to see if you wanted a ride tonight to the ol’ class reunion. Give me a call back babe. Oh yeah and Nate called earlier and wants to meet up for a drink first. That won’t be awkward. Call me when you get a chance.”

In the years that followed graduation Brett and I still talked at least once a week. He was just about as unlucky in love as I had proven to be, so it seemed we routinely took turns consoling each other through heartache. I’d stage dirty romance porn movie nights during his breakups and we’d watch his favorite films, drink beer and eat McDonalds til sunrise. And when it was my turn, he’d take me to the city to wine, dine and dance.

Brett answered my call with his routine “What’s happenin’?”

“Good times I hope!” I replied.

“Yeah, should be. Oh my god what are you wearing?” he teased in a mimicking tone.

“Something totally slutty to distract everyone from the fact that I’ve made absolutely nothing of my life yet.”

He laughed, “Give yourself some credit Megs, none of us are doing what we thought we would at this point. You know I wanted to be playing or coaching ball somewhere and I’m just a gym class teacher.”

“You’re a gym class hero Brett.” I cooed like his high school posse of adoring pubescent girls. “Besides I want to make Nate regret.”

“Tisk, tisk.”

“Meow. What time are you picking me up lovey?”

“Be careful. I like you frisky and I’ll be there in an hour.”

“An hour, good god! I’ve got to go get my pretty on.”

For the remaining fifty eight and a half minutes I poured over my hair and makeup like I never had before. I knew that the black skirt coupled with stiletto sandals and red spaghetti strap tank was classic but sexy enough to accentuate my womanly shape. The thought of seeing Nate brought back the same sensation in the pit of my stomach I had felt years ago.

Brett arrived punctually to pick me up. With raised eyebrows and a look of wonder he softly muttered, “I think I may bet the luckiest guy in town tonight.” He gently kissed my bare shoulder. It was an odd gesture but in the anticipation and eagerness of the evening it sent heat through the core of my soul, calming my nerves with his confidence.

“And with any luck, maybe I’ll get lucky!”

“Lucky with who?”

I could only smile but he read it.

“Need I remind you –”

“That he’s still your best friend?” I interrupted.

“No. You claimed that title long ago.” He said flatly.

We met Nate at the only pub in our worn out town worth anything. I could see his strong broad shoulders leaning confidently on the bar the minute we walked in. He caught my gaze and smiled that seductive easy grin. I couldn’t hold the intensity and shifted my eyes to Brett.

Playfully patting my butt he whispered, “Atta girl, he already winked at you and visually undressed you.”

“What? He did not. Shut up!”

“Megan, wow, is it good to see you.” Nate said as we approached “And Brett, life seems to be treating you well. You don’t look a day over 18.” He chided.

I spent the next hour molesting my full grown man crush with my eyes, the way his lips parted revealing perfectly aligned and polished teeth. I watched his hands as they gestured during stories and imagined his fingers running through my hair, tracing over my vulnerable, naked skin. The more we drank the more the chemistry festered between us. I vaguely remember Brett scooting back his stool and saying something about not wanting to be the fifth wheel and heading to the high school for the reunion. Nate offered to pay and leaning into me asked, “Hang back and ride over with me?”

“Yeah, okay.” I answered Nate softly. “We’ll meet you there.” I said searching Brett’s eyes and finding something in them I had failed to see before but in my intoxication couldn’t comprehend.

“Yeah.” Brett shrugged and I watched as his shoulders slumped slightly when he turned to leave.

“We’re finally alone.” Nate smiled. “I wasn’t sure that was going to happen or if you two were, I don’t know, together or something?”

“Oh my god, no, no, no.” I could hear my words slurring and made a poised effort to articulate,

“Brett and I are super close but not like that.” I giggled nervously and continued rambling about how unique and amazing our relationship was. After a minute Nate put his hand on my thigh and the warmth of his palm silenced my chatter.

Bringing his lips to mine he whispered, “I’ve never forgotten our first kiss.”

“You mean our only kiss?”

When we got to his car he pinned my body between the car and his own. We kissed just as we had that night in our youth. I felt like I was an 18 year old virgin all over again.

“Come home with me.” I whispered through our passion. “I want to show you something.”

His eyes glinted in the streetlight and a sly half smile spread across his dampened lips. There was an overwhelming sense of unsurity between us but at the same time I felt more alive than I ever remembered. He guided me easily into the passenger side of the car and reclined the chair. Straddling over me he closed the door and locked it.

“Show me” he heaved.

I slowly lifted the bottom of my tank top up exposing my stomach before I felt the brisk night air slide over my breasts followed by the warmth of his tongue and mouth over my nipple, his free hand cupped the other. As he slipped his zipper down and lifted my skirt, I felt a smooth metal band brush my thigh. How had I failed to remember? God, why hadn’t I noticed? Placing my hand on top of his as it moved back to massage my exposed breast, I confirmed the band was indeed on his ring finger. He slid inside me the rush of pleasure overtook any logic that had started to form.

When we finished his experienced hands replaced my disheveled clothing and he blurted out with arrogant liquid courage, “I never leave business unfinished Megan, especially when it looks as good as you.”

“Unfinished business? That’s all this is, that’s all I am to you?” I floundered to understand, my senses also dulled by alcohol.

“I’ve got a life of my own. But this, we can do this anytime I’m in town or you’re in the city. I mean, it’s not that I don’t care about you but,” he sighed combing his left hand through the side of his unkempt hair. I grabbed it and held it mid air.

“It’s complicated.” I said cocking my head and studying the wedding band.

“Yes.”

“I thought you and Britt split up a year or more ago?”

“It’s complicated.” He used my words against me now, “I mean when you have kids and all.”

“Right. So why isn’t she here with you?”

“At the class reunion? Um, the kids had stuff going on so she chose to stay.”

“Oh. Yeah, makes sense. Uh, can you take me home now?”

“I thought you already showed me what you were taking me home to see?” he callously flirted.

“You know, actually, just drop me off at Brett’s.”

“Okay. That won’t be awkward at all.” His voice laden with sarcasm.

“Yeah, interesting, he shared that sentiment earlier tonight.”

When the headlights flashed in Brett’s window he came to the front door looking confused. Relieved that he had chosen to skip the reunion I bolted from the car without so much as a good bye and collapsed in Brett’s sturdy embrace.

“Megan, what happened?”

With my vision blurred by tears I finally knew what I had seen concealed deeply in his green eyes. “There is a very fine line between loving someone and being in love. You know?”

“No, not really.” He said sweeping my hair with the back of his fingers over my shoulder.

“That line is guarded by blindness. How could I miss it all these years and you were right in front of me?”

“I’m not following you.” His eyes moistened.

“Brett, I’ve always loved you –”

“Just not been in love with me?” He forced a smile.

“I didn’t know what I was looking for, what love even looked like. I was going in circles, the kind that distinguish those that love this,” I motioned over my trembling body, “And the one that loves this.” I said resting my hand on my heart.

Laying his hand on top of mine he said “I would willingly spend the rest of my life waiting for this, for your heart. Yours is the only one I’ve ever wanted.”