The Split (5 page)

              “Twenty-four.”  I respond.  “So how the fuck is it that a twenty-five year old comes to be driving a car like this?  I’m sorry, but I get the feeling it’s not due to any work of your own.  Where are your parents.”

              Derek stops spinning his coin around his finger and pushes it into a crack in his dashboard, where it stays perfectly.  “Dead.”  He tells me.

              “Oh my god.”  I stammer.  “I’m so sorry.”

              “No, it’s fine.”  Derek responds, “I mean, it’s been over a decade now.  They weren’t wealthy though, if that’s what you’re thinking.  All of this I earned on my own.”

              I’m shocked.  “Really?  That’s incredible.”

              Derek cracks a smile.  “Although, you’re right about one thing, it wasn’t really work.”

              “What do you mean?”  I ask.

              Derek sighs.  “I’m a gambler.”  He stops and corrects himself.  “
Was
a gambler, I should say.  Blackjack, slots, but mostly poker, that’s where I made all of my money.”

              “Damn.”  I say.  “Well, what happened?”

              He laughs.  “You’re nosy!”

              I recoil a bit.

              “I’m sorry.”  Derek tells me.  “I mean, I’m gonna have to talk about all of this at a meeting one of these days anyway, might as well do it now.  I had to give up the gambling when things started getting out of control.”

              I nod, completely understanding.

              “The sex, the drugs, the whole lifestyle really.  I was living in Vegas and playing in the high roller cash games, more money than I knew what to do with, but I wasn’t happy.”  Derek takes out the coin and starts flipping it through his fingers again, some kind of coping mechanism.

              I watch Derek’s eyes as the memories seem to flood back to him.

              “One night I took a guy for about five million dollars in one game of poker, which he didn’t really seem to care about all that much.  When I took his girlfriend later, though, that’s when things got ugly.”

              Derek lifts up his shirt to reveal three large scars in his side, as well as a glimpse at his utterly impeccable abs.  He’s toned beyond belief under there.

              “I was stabbed three times, head smashed, broken legs.”  Derek tells me.  “I should be dead but an old woman found me lying out behind the Casino when she used the wrong exit door, thinking it was the way to the cashier.  She was trying to cash in a token that she’d found on the floor.”

              Derek hands me the token.  On one side there is an ancient Aztec woman’s face, and on the other is the image of temple with some words etched below it. 

              I carefully read the inscription outloud.  “The Grand Mayan Casino, One Dollar.  She was trying to cash a one dollar token?”  I ask.

              Derek laughs.  “Actually, she thought it was for a hundred.  Really bad eyesight on the poor woman, but lucky for me.”

              “Whoa.”  I say.  “You seem so calm and collected, I can’t even imagine you being out of control of yourself.”

              “Well, you’re kinda right.”  Derek sighs.  “I mean, that’s why I was so good at poker.  I can keep my feelings locked up pretty well, but when you do that they have a tendency to get sneaky and turn into bad habits.  That’s what the coins for, to remind me that there are two sides to everyone, even myself.”

              I nod.  “You’re right.”

              Derek glances over at me again, something flickering behind his eyes.  “This is crazy, I’ve never talked about this stuff with anyone before.”

              I blush slightly.  “Glad I could help to open up the floodgates.”

              The two of us are silent for a moment.  I can tell that Derek is thinking long and hard about something important, weighing the pros and cons in his head.  “Hey, are you hungry?”  He finally asks.

              I smile.  “Sure, let’s grab something.”

              The din of the restaurant feels good within my ears, a pleasant hum to momentarily block out all of the anxiety I’ve been swimming in over the last few days.  The place is inviting, a classic kind of late night diner where the waitresses never forget to come back and refill your coffee.

              Derek sits across from me in his usual confident relaxed state, leaning back against the booth with one arm draped lazily behind him.  He has the incredible ability to fit in anywhere, from a cheap burger joint to a five star restaurant.  I can’t imagine the guy being anything but comfortable in his own skin, the exact thing that I’m not these days.

              There lies an intensity behind his eyes, however, that’s unmistakable.  Derek is interested in me, and not just as a sexual being (although, that’s certainly in there as well). He’s curious; excited.

              “Remember the first meeting?”  Derek asks.  “When I asked you about your job?”

              “Yeah, I do.”  I tell him, taking a sip from my coffee.  I crack a smile.  “Why?  You want to know about my job now?”

              Derek laughs.  “No.  I just want to know about you.”

              I can feel a slight tugging within my heart, a tiny chill that runs down my spine.  “What do you want to know?”

              Derek is silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing a bit as he sizes me up.  He’s trying to determine my tolerance for his prodding, but it doesn’t take him long to make up his mind and dive in; a true risk taker.

              “Tell me about why you’ve been going to meetings for two years.”  He says.

              I look down instinctively, my identity exposed and dragged up onto the chopping block.  You’d think after all of this time, all of this sharing, I would finally be about to express myself about what brought me to this sad, lonely place in my life.

              “I was married once.”  I tell Derek. 

              He seems slightly confused, but does his best not to show it.

              “I know,” I laugh.  “We we’re only eighteen years old, high school sweethearts, actually.”

              “Sounds kinda nice.”  Derek says.  “Settling down that early and not having to worry about all of this bullshit.”

              I nod.  “I was, at first.  But the thing about getting married to someone that early in life is that you really don’t know them, and people can change a lot.  Even the sweetest men can get dark and bitter, especially when they come from a family of alcoholics.”

              “Don’t I know it.”  Derek tells me.  “My father was the perfect American man until he had a couple of beers in him.”

              “There’s two sides to everyone.”  I say, throwing his own line back at him.

              Derek continues listening, but instinctively pulls out his coin as I speak, and then starts flipping it across his fingers quietly.

              “Anyway, as we got older, my husband, Chet, started to change.  In our youth his petty jealousy just came off as childish, something that would eventually blow over as he matured and started to figure himself out, but it only got worse as time went on and the liquor kept flowing.”

              Derek is listening intently, hanging on every word that comes out of my mouth.  There’s something incredibly charming about his attention, and I suddenly can’t remember the last time a man truly listened to me like this.

              “It wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t cheating on me, as well.”  I continue, my hands literally starting to shake as I recall the way that I was treated by my ex.  “I mean, the fucking nerve of that guy.”

              Derek reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine, which instantly calms me like a beautiful wave of medicine for my soul.  The shaking stops and I immediately return to reality.

              “It’s okay.”  Derek tells me.  “You don’t need to get into it like that.  I understand.”

              “No.”  I tell him.  “It’s good to get it out.”

              Derek nods, but keeps his warm strong hands over mine.

              “One day when Chet was out seeing one of his regular hook ups, I left the house and went to the store.  I ran into an old friend from high school who I hadn’t seen in years.  He was always such a nice guy back then.”  I stop for a moment and stare off out the diner window.  “I was so sad and lonely, so I brought him home and we started to fool around.  It’s the first time that I had felt desirable in months; the first time I felt like a woman, even.”

              Derek closes his eyes, as if he already knows what’s about to come next.

              “The next thing I know.”  I continue.  “Chet is coming through the door and he’s pissed off; I mean really fucking pissed off.”

              I start shaking again, and this time Derek’s hand can’t do anything to calm me.  I keep going though, willing myself to push through the trauma and come out safely on the other side.

              “I remember screaming.”  I say, a single tear rolling down my cheek.  “And then I remember Chet walking over to the closet and pulling out a gun.  He shot my friend four times, first in the head and then three more times as he lie there on the floor.  The guy was already dead but he just kept shooting.”

              “Oh my god.”  The words fall out of Derek’s mouth and land on the table before him.  He’s in utter shock, his heart aching for me as he sits across the table and listens so intently; so carefully.

              “That’s when Chet turned the gun towards me.”  I say.  “I remember looking him in the eye and thinking, what happened to this man that I loved?  The guy who would do anything for me?  How did he become this entirely new person?”  I laugh to myself.  “But I guess there are two sides to every coin.”

              We sit in silence for a moment, the air electrified by the emotion that buzzes between us.

              “So what happened?”  Derek finally asks.

              I snap out of it suddenly, as if the thought had never ever even occurred to me.  “Oh.”  I start.  “The gun jammed.”

              “The gun jammed?”  Derek repeats back to me in utter shock.

              “Lady luck, I guess.”  I tell him.  “I haven’t had sex since that day.  Even the thought of it makes me sick.”

              Derek is dumbfounded, but his expression alone makes me feel warm and safe.  Obviously, I’ve made mistakes before when it comes to men, but this guy is different.

              Suddenly, though, Derek’s expression starts to change, he’s looking down at my arm and wearing a face that goes from concern to downright confusion.

              I immediately glance down to see what he’s looking at.  My emotional explosion must have caused a slight corruption in the nanobot code, because my body is stretching and morphing again, just like back in the lab.  This time, the flesh of my left arm seems to be stretching out away from my body, extending in a strange line that creeps along through the air.

              “Fuck!”  I shout, jumping up from the booth and knocking over my coffee, which spills across the table with a loud clatter.

              Everyone in the restaurant turns to look at us as I cover my arm with the opposite hand and rush straight for the restroom.

              “Mandi!  Are you okay?”  Derek shouts from behind me, first trying to follow and then turning back to contain the coffee spill with several napkins.

              “Yeah, I’m fine!  I just need a minute, I’ll be right back.”  I tell him frantically.

              I burst through the restroom door and head straight for the mirror.  I can already see parts of my face drifting away as the nanobot glitch continues to blossom within me, literally tearing me apart.  Could this be the end?

              I grab the edge of the sink to support myself, staring back at my rapidly distorting reflection in the mirror and trying desperately to calm down.  My breathing heavy and my heart slamming within my chest, I find my body in a losing battle against the corruption of my new biomechanical cells.

              Closing my eyes, I focus on collecting myself, finding a center internally that I can grab onto for just one fleeting moment.  There is a calm within the center of this tornado, and when I find it I latch on tight.  I remind myself that the only way through this is by staying grounded, and then I open my eyes.

              The strange projections of matter that drift away from my face are now retracting back into my body, returning to the steady form of their initial programming.  I let out a sigh of relief, running my hand across my skin as it fully returns to normal.

              Suddenly, Derek is pushing through the door of the restroom behind me.  Without a word he grabs me in his large, muscular arms and holds me tight, our bodies pressed together in a show of love and support that immediately fills me with warmth.  I’m crying again, but not the same wild tears of frenzied emotion from before; I’m crying out of appreciation, and loss.  This is one of the most incredible men I have ever met; understanding, supportive, and most of all, honest.  I was such an idiot to turn him away when I did, but I had forgotten that when I closed myself off sexually, I also closed off my heart.

              Unfortunately, I’ve realized this when I might only have days left to live, the nanobots threatening to give way at any moment and rip me apart like nothing more than a string of faulty computer code.

              I sink deeper into Derek’s supportive embrace, taking in his masculine presence.

              “Are you alright?”  Derek finally whispers.  “I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about the past anymore.”

              “I’m fine.”  I tell him.  “It wasn’t you.  I just have this… skin thing.”

              Derek doesn’t say anything in return, but he seems to buy it; for now at least.

              Finally, I pull away from this breathtakingly handsome man and look up into his eyes.  We connect instantly, an excitement flowing between us that simply can’t be denied.  I lift up onto my tiptoes and slowly push my lips towards his.

              “I’m sorry.”  Derek says, pulling again.

              Disappointment hits me like a ton of bricks.  “What is it?”  I ask.

              Derek stares back at me with an achingly sad, but stern, look in his eyes.  “I can’t.”  He says. “I’m dating Tara.  I’m not the kind of guy who does this anymore.”

              I want to fight for this, to try and talk Derek out of it somehow, but I already know that it’s no use.  Derek’s mind is a strong one, well trained after long hours of controlled emotion at the poker table.

              “I understand.”  I tell him, lying through my teeth, and then go in for another long, supportive hug.

              I never want to leave this position, but eventually the muscular man pulls away and leads me back to our booth, where he pays and then the two of us leave in silence.

              The rest of the drive back to my place is quiet, both Derek and me lost in our own mess of deep, swirling thoughts.

              As much as this man says he’s attracted to me, and as much as I believe him when he looks deep into my eyes, I can’t help but think that if I truly mattered to him he would break things off with Tara right then and there.  Of course, this is just me being selfish and I know it, but I can’t help myself.

              I also can’t help thinking that if Tara wasn’t standing in the way, I could be starting the first day of the rest of my life tonight, taking the easy road to recovery with a fellow addict and, when the time was right, finally having a sexual relationship with someone that wasn’t built on darkness and self loathing. 

              What the fuck did Tara have that I didn’t, anyway?

              Well, a fantastic set of tits, for one; even if hers were bolted on by a surgeon back in nineteen-ninety-one.

              I just can’t help it any longer.  The big green monster of jealousy has consumed me and I’m completely at its whim, overwhelmed by the desire to have Derek entirely for myself.  If only him and Tara could just realize that they weren’t really compatible and get this whole charade over with.

              I suppose, however, that there are ways I could speed up the process.

              The second that I think this awful thought I immediately try to push it away and lock the gates behind it.  I’ve spent the last two years making every decision as thoughtfully and morally as I can, and I’m not about to let that change over some man that, real talk, I only just met.  Still the feeling lingers within me, and the longer that Derek and I ride in silence, the more powerful it grows.

              The damn within my soul is leaking, I suddenly realize, cracked open when I relapsed the other day in the security office.  The sexual creature that has been lurking within me is anxious to get out, ready to explode forth and devour everything in its path after all of these years pent up and alone.

              Who am I to stand in its way?

              “Arrived.” Says a feminine, disembodied voice over Derek’s stereo system.