Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (15 page)

"You know what my Shakespeare professor told me? Humor is cruel."

"That doesn't mean I want to be the butt of the joke."

"I think she thought she was being funny. But... the joke went too far. I saw that last week. So now it's over."

Jeni's distraught face filled his mind. If she was crying over Amy, why would she go to Stephen of all people? Had she just broken down in the middle of the Center? Stephen was the sort of person who would comfort a clearly heartbroken girl. Or maybe... had she gone to him? If she wanted to save her relationship with Amy, it would make sense to go to Stephen for advice. And Stephen would naturally tell her to apologize and Jay had naturally shoved that apology back down her throat and told her to choke on it.

He considered himself to be a kindhearted, reasonable, intelligent,
good
person. Those were just the four words he'd use to describe himself. But a good person didn't withhold forgiveness out of a petty need for revenge--even if the bitterness was justified. And Jay felt it was. It didn't matter to him if she just thought she was being funny, but much to his shame, for the first time he realized that Jeni actually did have a life fully separate and independent of him. She wasn't his arch nemesis, or the obsessed villain whose sole reason for living came down to tormenting him.

The waitress appeared then and they both ordered the dishes they always ordered, though Jay didn't have much of an appetite.

"When I left the Center, Stephen was talking to a girl named Regan."

"Oh? Who is she? The name doesn't sound familiar."

"She's a freshman. She'd never been there before, but her family found out she was gay, and her parents kicked her out of the house. She said they still had all her stuff, and she couldn't go back for it."

"Jesus. That's terrible."

"Yeah. Stephen's going to find a place for her to stay and try to get some mediation for her and her parents. Or at least help her arrange it so she can get her stuff. But... she didn't have anywhere else to go. She just had to hope that we could help her. A bunch of strangers. And really, there's no guarantee that Stephen can help."

Amy sighed. "It makes you realize how lucky we are, doesn't it? At least we've got each other."

"Yeah."

"For whatever that's worth, I guess."

"It's worth a lot to me. I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I should have... I should have tried harder to understand."

"It's not your fault. I should have talked to you about it. I should have talked to
her
about it. But when I was with her, everything seemed easy. And I really wanted things to be easy."

"Has the semester been hard on you? You never said anything."

"I don't know. My classes aren't too difficult individually, but my workload has been heavier. I'm going to be done with my degree soon, and I'm going to have to figure out what to do, and... I don't fucking know. I can't even imagine what it's like to know. Does
anybody
have it all figured out by the time they graduate?"

"Not in my experience, no."

"Jeni should have just been another distraction, but when we were together, none of that other stuff seemed to matter as much. It all seemed more bearable. God, I've been so caught up in my own little drama that I feel like I've been treating you like just a roommate."

"I've missed talking to you," Jay admitted. "I've been going through so much stuff with Stephen, and I haven't had the chance to tell you anything."

Amy cupped her chin on her hand. "Tell me now. I'm all ears."

"What do you want to hear about?"

"All of it. Is he amazing as he seems?"

"Honestly? He's more amazing than you can probably even imagine."

Amy seemed to brighten at that, looking more engaged than she had all evening. "Now you do need to tell me everything. Don't leave out a single detail."

Jay happily filled her in, trying to push the memory of Jeni's apology out of his mind as he spoke, but the image wouldn't fade.

Given the choice, Jay would never speak to Jeni again. But he was becoming accustomed to gritting his teeth and dealing with tasks he wanted nothing to do with. If he could spend forty-five minutes lifting weights three days a week, not to mention the pain that was the stationary bike, and the true torture of the locker room, then he could take an hour out of his life to track down and talk to Jeni. Plus, it was the right thing to do. He repeated that mantra again and again as he climbed the steps that led to Jeni's apartment. He was doing the right thing, and sometimes people had to sacrifice their own personal comfort for the greater good. But somehow, when it happened in Dickens, it seemed much more noble, heroic, and romantic. This errand really wasn't any of those things. He wasn't even losing anything by coming over, except a bit of time.

When he found out Jeni lived downtown, he imagined one of the big buildings behind the capital building, or something old and imposing in the Avenues. But it wasn't anything like that. She lived on the third floor of a squat, square building, like a saltine box cut in half. It was surrounded on all sides by larger, newer structures, and he had to squeeze between two buildings to get to the broken gate that marked the building's entrance. As soon as he opened the front door, he was assaulted with the smell of weed and tobacco, and something sharper and far more unpleasant just beneath it. He hoped it was just cat urine.

Naturally, none of the doors were marked with numbers or letters, though they did bear the faded shapes of digits long since fallen away. Jay avoided breathing as much as he could and went up the flight of stairs, which creaked ominously with each step. He couldn't blame Amy for bringing Jeni over to their apartment all the time if this was their only other option. They didn't exactly have the nicest place in the world, but compared to this, they lived like royalty.

By the time he reached the third floor, he was a little winded, but there was none of the tightness he'd become so accustomed to. He supposed compared to that goddamned bike, the stairs weren't much at all. The thought cheered him considerably, buoying his confidence as he debated which one of the doors belonged to Jeni. If they started numbering directly to his right, then the third door down would be hers.

Well, if it wasn't, he'd keep trying until he found her. It wasn't like he was overwhelmed by options in the short, narrow corridor.

Jeni answered his knock within seconds. "Jay? What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Amy. I thought it would be best if we talked face to face."

"Oh, well, come in."

Jeni's apartment was such an improvement over the rest of the building that Jay couldn't quite believe his eyes. No amount of cleaning and organizing could rid the small apartment of the stench that seemed to permeate the entire building, but her carpet and paint looked new, she had a cozy setup with her couch, television, and computer, and the whole thing was spotless, including what he could see of the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm good. I won't be staying long. I... uh... I heard about what happened between you and Amy. "

"Yeah, so what? Did you come over to gloat? You won."

"I didn't know it was a competition."

"You didn't? How could she not feel like she had to choose one of us?"

Jay stared at her. "That's your fault. Do you think I go around chasing away all of Amy's girlfriends? You've been insulting me since you started dating her. Shit, you've been insulting me since we were kids. And now you're going to act like this is all
my
fault. Fuck. I don't even know why I'm trying."

"Trying to do what?"

"Talk to you and save your relationship with my best friend, even though I don't think you're good enough for her."

"Oh, so the truth finally comes out."

"Finally comes out? It's not a big secret that you're a jerk, Jeni. That's been your defining feature since we were kids."

"I'm not a jerk. And you know, maybe if you didn't go around thinking you're so much better than everybody else, I never would have said anything."

"You think
I
go around acting like I'm better than everybody else?"

"You always have. Your parents are rich, you're smart, you were always the teacher's pet. I couldn't do any fucking thing without hearing about how you did it first, how you did it better. You even won that fucking scholarship that you didn't even
need.
I had to work two jobs to get my degree."

"Oh, wow, that's the most tragic story I ever heard. You should try to sell your story to Lifetime, get a movie made."

"Screw you, Jay."

"No, screw
you.
I came here to try to let bygones be bygones because, for some reason I can't understand, Amy really likes you. And Amy's my best friend, and I want her to be happy. But instead of any sort of real apology for fucking
years
of torment, I get to hear about how I ruined your life because I'm smarter than you? Because my parents had more money than yours? Maybe bad things happen to you because you're a bad person. Have you ever thought of that?"

Jeni blinked rapidly, and her lower lip started to quiver.

"Don't start with the tears. What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?"

"I didn't know I was tormenting you," Jeni protested.

"So through the systematic torture and abuse, you were what? Blacking out?"

"What are you talking about? Systematic torture? I never tortured you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The endless digs about how fat and worthless I am were all in good humor, and like any great comedian, you need to be cruel. You're the second coming of Noel Coward. A genius misunderstood in her own time."

"There were jokes, yeah, but... "

"They weren't jokes to me," Jay said quietly. "Jokes are supposed to be funny, or at least good-natured. Walking behind me and mooing isn't funny."

Jeni's face screwed up in confusion. "What? I never did that."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I remember it like it happened yesterday, Jeni."

"I don't remember it at all. I don't think I did that, but if I did, I
am
sorry. Kids do shitty things sometimes."

"You're still doing shitty things."

"I'm sorry, Jay. I don't know what else you want from me. Blood?"

"I want to know why."

"I... I don't know why. Because I thought I was being funny. I clearly wasn't, and I'm sorry. But whatever you thought I was doing to you... torturing you... hurting you, I didn't realize it. I didn't mean it."

If Jay really didn't care about her anymore, as he'd claimed at the Center, it would be easy to simply accept that and move on with his life. The various hurts and insults he'd acquired from her over the years still ached dully in his chest, flaring to life with each rapid clench of his heart. The pain was familiar, and he wanted to hold on to it as tightly as he could. He wanted to guard each sliver, grasp it so tightly nothing could pull it away. It wasn't just something experienced. The broken shards and jagged edges had worked into the material of his person, becoming such an ingrained part of him that he didn't know how he could ever be himself without it.

But that meant Jeni would always be with him, her voice overpowering Stephen's, overwhelming reason, making him miserable. He didn't like her well enough to carry her around for the rest of his life. Whether she hooked up with Amy or whether he never saw her again, the final result would be the same. He had to forgive her--
really
forgive her--for himself as much as for Amy.

"I believe you," Jay said slowly, meaning it more with each word. "I forgive you, and I think you should call Amy."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Jay swallowed and extended his hand. "I do."

She studied him for a moment, doubt in her expression. Finally, she reached out tentatively and clasped his fingers. He wrapped his hand around hers, somewhat surprised by how soft her skin was.

"Thank you."

They released each other at the same time, and the weight he'd been carrying on his shoulders and over his heart began to loosen, disappearing like nothing more substantial than bubbles.

"You sure you don't want a drink or something?"

"I'm sure. Thanks though." He smiled a little and nodded at her, then pulled the door open behind him and backed out of the small apartment. That was the right thing to do, and now he wasn't just telling himself that. He felt it.

He supposed this was what they called closure. That made sense. It felt like something had closed behind him, a door cut out of stone, shut and locked for good.

Once Jay left Jeni, he only wanted one thing. It felt like weeks since he'd last seen Stephen, though it'd only been a day and a half. But it was only three o'clock, and Stephen would be at the Center until at least five, and probably later than that as they got closer to Pride Week. Which meant Jay had to be patient. He couldn't go racing up to campus and lock himself in Stephen's office, like he wanted. But he could let Stephen know that his company was very much desired.

He could send Stephen a message that was impossible to interpret. Something that marked the day as something special and indicated Jay's readiness to turn over a new leaf. He knew that the conversation with Jeni wasn't going to change everything about him. He'd still be the same person with the same fears and insecurities, but he wasn't going to be a slave to those feelings anymore.

Ninety minutes later, Jay understood why epiphanies rarely led to permanent changes. He stood naked in front of the mirror, his phone in one hand, his thumb hovering over the button to snap a photo. He'd been locked in that position for a good five minutes, gaze anxiously shifting between the image in the mirror and the image on the phone's tiny screen. All he needed to do was move his thumb a few centimeters, and the deed would be done, but even reassuring himself that he wouldn't have to
send
the picture couldn't unfreeze him.