The Broken Circles - 2. Chapter 2 - Lifelines and Lovelines

Chapter 2

Lifelines and Lovelines

A year had passed since that fateful night at Drew’s. Chance and I grew tighter, forming bonds I didn’t think possible. He made the slow advances to move on with his life but would somehow never clear his head of Tiffany. We spent more time together, doing things to hopefully fill that void in his heart. I never told him what I saw, nor did he ever divulge what she told him that caused the breakup. The two seemed taboo and went unspoken. In the course of our friendship, I never told him how I felt. Instead, I opted to tell Gregory my feelings for him, only to be shut out rather fast with, "I can't love you like that." This life lesson broke my heart in a bad way, another reason not to tell Chance. Things had become somewhat estranged to the point that gaming seemed to cause me physical pain. Now with both of us suffering from personal loss, Chance and I clung to one another for emotional support. And I liked that.

My friends all loved Chance, and the way we horsed around seemed like we were in a relationship. The part that seemed kind of funny to me (and hurt the worst) was that he never did anything to quash any rumors. He actually seemed kind of ignorant to it all. We were really affectionate toward one another and he seemed okay with it. The constant reminder of Tiffany and his love for her hit home the worst though. And I was living with the secret that would have given Chance the most amount of vindication.

Honestly, I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t tell him. Any more bad news of Tiffany’s infidelity would have been icing on the cake. But that was just it; Chance would have felt even worse about it than he already did. And the look on his face when he told me of their breakup made me reconsider on the spot, and I decided to swallow my pride and let my secret die. Of course it didn't really die, it festered. Like a nagging mother or a scab that never really heals. When he got into one of his funks I made sure to let him know I'd be there in case he ever wanted to talk and at the same time, give him one of my big hugs. He never wanted to talk about Tiffany though, just as well, I guess.

Since I was barely making enough money to cover rent and food, Chance and I spent a lot of time in parks, or walking places, or drinking coffee in cheap coffee shops. While dropping out of art school was still a fresh memory, I kept on drawing, so drinking coffee, chatting with Chance, and moping about Gregory seemed to be my life. Oh and working at a health food store too. It paid the bills, offered me time when I needed time and the commute, while long, allowed me to slowly fill up sketchbook after sketchbook. Staying true to my fantasy of superheroes the sketchbooks were filled with muscled, handsomely men and beautiful women. Sort of the anti-Eli.

"You know, Eli, you're going to give yourself a complex if you keep comparing yourself to your drawings," Chance murmured, glancing down at my most recent drawing. He pointed at the heroes perfect smile, chiseled good looks. He was wrong, I wasn't going to give myself a complex...I HAD a complex. I looked up casually from under the bill of my hat and smirked and resumed drawing the cape. "Have you ever tried drawing from life?"

"What's so interesting about drawing from life? It's so...real," I replied. Chance slapped my shoulder gently and I smiled. "Besides, these guys are so cool looking. I'd give anything to be a superhero."

"Yeah? What kind of powers would you want?" His question blew my mind. Chance was never big on comic books and all the information he had came through osmosis. At the time, what meager funds left over from rent and food went to comic books and sketchbooks.

"I'd want cool powers...telekinesis and flight," I said after a few seconds of thought. "But realistically I see myself having fire powers. Like immolation."

"Immolation? That's hardcore," he said, rubbing his chin, sitting back. "Oh right, because you sweat very little, Mr. Mini-Oven." I chuckled. He had called me that after having to carry me to the nearest cold source after overheating from being at the zoo. He always knew I didn't sweat much but I had been adamant about going out and seeing one of the new exhibits. He was soaked with sweat from carrying me; I felt like I was killing him.

"What about you?" I asked, putting down my pencil and reached for the coffee mug now lukewarm. Chance drummed his fingers on the table.

"I dunno, how about X-ray vision?" he said, grinning evilly. His eyes looked faraway and distant. Then it dawned on me.

"You perv," I said, rolling my eyes, tossing my pencil at him. Chance burst out into laughter.

"A man's got needs!" he exclaimed and by then I was lost in fits of laughter. This was the awesomeness of our friendship. Even when my life seemed like it was falling apart Chance always found a way to brighten it. He was able to pull me back to the real world in a way that didn't seem patronizing or malicious. And when I found myself lost, he was always there. Now those are the words of a lovestruck fool. But he never knew it. At least he never showed it. I was a little ashamed about my feelings for one of my very best friends and more terrified of losing him if I told him how I felt. I kept my feelings bottled up, a method to avoid dealing with the real world. Chance leaned over and placed his hand in mine, his long slender fingers looked like spider legs crawling up my skin and the shadow it cast looked almost surreal in the coffeehouse. "Don't be so glum, chum."

"I'm not glum, Chance, just thinking about something," I said, pulling free from his hands and reaching for the pencil that dropped near his coffee. "What do you want to do today?" Chance pursed his lips together, and dragged his fingers through his unruly hair, his eyes looking upward for answers.

"I dunno, park maybe? It's been a few weeks since we've been there. And I love the smell of autumn leaves and last night's rain will make the park smell like --"

"Death and destruction? That's hot," I said, interrupting his train of thought. Chance chuckled.

"--that too," he replied, not missing a beat. The cute waitress came by our table for the 3rd time to refill our mugs, and Chance looked up at her and smiled. We'd been coming to this coffee shop for a few months now and knew the names of the waitstaff, her name was Sarah. Pleasant enough girl of Korean descent, young 20's, dressed like she was going to a goth club. When Chance mentioned in the past that he shared a class with her, I knew he had a crush. She seemed pretty aloof about chatting with the patrons of the coffee shop, but she always treated us a bit differently, probably because we were so close to her age group. That and Chance once rushed to her aid when a patron slapped her on the rear and nearly punched the guy's lights out. Ever since, she'd sit with us for a few minutes to mingle. Back in my mind I kept thinking they'd make a cute couple. I think what made her stand out so much was her name tag: Song. The manager of the coffee shop opted to her use last name instead of her first because it had a nice 'ring' to it.

"You guys have your fill?" She asked as she finished pouring my cup of coffee. I nodded politely and thanked her. Chance leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.

"I think so, just the check, please," he said. As she turned her back to us, he and I shared this exasperated stare, accompanied by head jerking and erratic hand motions. It loosely translated to, "What are you doing fool, ask her out!" from me and "What are you talking about? Are you insane?" from him. She came with the check and Chance chickened out. In a sense, this is what worked best with our relationship; I could fawn mercilessly over Chance and he'd remain single for long stretches of time. Of course he'd date a girl but it never went longer than 2 dates before he had come to some decision that they wouldn't 'work out' in the end. I didn't know what he was looking for, but ultimately, it didn't matter. For the time being, I had him all to myself.

As we walked out, Chance's face was bright red. "You know, Chance, you're such a chicken," I remarked, slinging my bag over my shoulder. His eyes hid under his hair so I couldn't read his expression. "She's really adorable and she totally seems to dig you." He shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion and kept walking. From the corner of my eye I saw Sarah in the coffee shop, watching us walk away. The nagging thought that they'd make a cute couple came back, but for now I decided to let things slide.

We plotted our path to the park in Takoma Park. It was very cool, overcast and damp that day, possibly my favorite weather. The maple leaves had turned that bright orange and red in the late autumn and the ones one the ground seemed pasted from the previous night's rain. The park we went to overlooked a soccer field that was frequented by small children but this time, the field was barren and the park was ours. The best part was that there was a massive maple tree with low hanging branches to climb. Under normal circumstances, I would have gone by this tree hundreds of times without giving it the time of day, but Chance was a natural born climber. The first time we had been to the park, he saw it, and dashed over to begin climbing. Ever since, we'd been climbing this tree, trying to climb higher one day at a time. He seemed convinced that the tree would go on forever, so we paced ourselves, diligently. In a sharp contrast to my own personality and urge to climb it all in one day, Chance was methodical and the anticipation would bring more joy than the end reward. Me on the other hand, wanted to feel the rush of something to completion. His sense of patience was maddening to me at times.

We looked like a pair of miscreant teenagers on the swings. Both of us wore faded jeans, unbuttoned flannel shirts with black t-shirts underneath. What can I say, it was in vogue at the time. Chance was tall and thin, nice and toned from his wild tree climbing activities. He had a horrible disdain for formal exercise, instead opting for a more constant form of movement to keep his girlish figure. My build was far thinner than his; I had trouble keeping my weight over 110 lbs from a raging metabolism. Short and thin and funny looking was the best way to describe me. I longed for the day when I'd grow into my face. This wouldn't happen for a few years.

"So... what do you think of Sarah?" he asked mid-swing. I slowed down my swing, dragging my shoes into the damp dirt. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"She's cool. Do you like her?" I asked, watching him slow down his swing. He smiled goofily and gave me a half-shrug, half-nod. "She's cute too."

"Yeah, she is," he replied, coming to a full stop. "It's been a while since I got on the saddle, you know? I'm not even entirely sure where to start."

"Eugh, I hate that phrase. It feels like you're sizing up a horse to mate with." Chance laughed at that and kicked up his feet.

"You know what I mean. I haven't seriously dated a girl since Tiff. I kind of miss that," he said softly. I bit my lower lip and nodded slightly. I mulled it over in my head, Sarah seemed like the lesser of two evils, but was I really willing to give up Chance? I hated being this selfish and I hated Chance for thinking of other people aside from me.

"Maybe you should ask her out," I blurted suddenly. Mentally I was stabbing my brain with a Q-tip from my own insolence.

"Maybe I should...maybe I should..." he said, the hint of deviousness in his voice, rubbing his stubbly chin to accentuate his point. I rolled my eyes and continued swinging. A little while later, we found ourselves sitting amidst the lower hanging branches of our climbing tree. Never opting to hang out in areas too high, I dubbed this tree Mount Burmont after the love of my life. Chance always climbed a little higher than I, and at this point in history, we were sitting halfway up the tree. The previous nights rain made things a bit slick and I was a bit of a wuss. No more climbing for me, I thought, clinging tightly to the trunk. To make things worse, it started to trickle down a little.

"What do you think of the view?" Chance asked softly, looking over his set of branches. We had been sitting in the tree for a little more than an hour. I didn't realize how damp my clothes became in the amount of time we spent outside. The two of us sat in almost silence, enjoying the experience. I have to admit, I hadn't really looked forward to climbing Mount Burmont today considering how awful it looked outside. I poked my head out from the branches and found myself looking out into the soccer field.

"It's beautiful, Chance," I murmured in awe. I hadn't allowed myself that kind of exhilaration in such a long time. Being with Chance allowed me to see the world for what it could offer. The only other person that did that for me aside from Chance was Gregory. I thought to myself that when Gregory wasn't a part of my life, a portion of my heart felt like it was sliced out of my body. So what would happen if Chance disappeared from my life? How could I go on with my life without him? Then it dawned on me that what was happening to me with Chance wasn't entirely healthy. I was putting him on a pedestal that was completely irrational. Much like Travis, like Gregory, so too was I becoming dependent on him. This revelation ejected me from my reverie and I fell silent. My jaw set stonily and I found myself unable to speak. It wasn't as if I felt like my vocal chords were constricted or anything, but I felt like if I said anything, it would have been met with a hug from Chance. I didn't want his affection; I wanted his love. I eased back into the tree where the branch was more secure. and nestled against it for protection. Chance gave me a somewhat curious glance then grimaced.

"Eli, are you okay?" Chance asked lowering himself onto the branch I was on. I smiled weakly, mentally hating myself for feeling safe with Chance. Perhaps it was the fact that I needed someone near me, that once they were gone, I'd be all alone, unhappy and miserable. Fortunately, most of my friends and virtually all of my family had no clue of the real me and this reinforced my facade. Of course when I refer to my 'friends', I meant mostly Chance.

"I-I uh," I started but my voice box suddenly jammed and I found that I could say very little. When I noticed myself stuttering I felt my cheeks burn. "I'm okay."

"You don't look okay, Eli," he said concerned. The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of rain on leaves, it was a nice break from how I was feeling. Anything to fill the void. Chance gingerly crossed the heavy branch he was on and knelt before me. "You look upset, was it something I said?"

"No, I was just thinking is all," I replied. Half of my thoughts seemed morbid; I longed for the time when this depression would be far behind me. Lord knows when that'd be. "I'll be okay, really."

"Liar," he said. I looked up from beneath the bill of my hat and saw him grinning from ear to ear. "But I'll let it go this time. You owe me."

"Schmuck," I said, giving him a gently nudge. I felt the branch give just slightly and it almost looked like he was going to fall. He played it up well and made a grand sweeping motion with his arms before catching himself with a branch above. My heart skipped a beat nonetheless, eyes widened in terror and I grabbed him by his shirt. His arms encircled around me, and gripped tightly. "Don't scare me like that, you ass."

"And don't hide your secrets from me, jerk," he replied against my ear. I pulled back and smiled even though it hurt. My best friend looked deep into my eyes, searching hard for answers. I don't think he found anything he liked, his fingers held onto my shoulders, almost like a vise. What are you doing, you idiot, I thought maddeningly, he's your best friend! Tell him your feelings before it's too late!

"I'm just thinking about how lonely I am," I finally said. My eyes darted away from his, and I hoped that my half-truth would suffice and for the moment it did. I swallowed hard, feeling my Adams apple tighten. Tell him, before you lose the moment, you fool. Before--

"Well, I can understand that. I've been single for almost a year and I could use companionship," Chance said, planting his rear down onto the branch. "God, I miss having Tiffany around, even if she did break my heart."

"Do you still love her?" I asked. Please say no, please, please say no.

"I do." Well that sucked. My mind wracked with the dread feeling of missing my window of opportunity. Sure, nothing good would come of spilling my heart to my best friend but at least I'd get it off my chest, right? With nothing else to say the conversation petered out. We spent the rest of the day sitting in the tree, watching the afternoon rain come down over the field. Chance nestled himself next to me on a sturdy branch. Even though I didn't get to voice my feelings, the afternoon spent with Chance was a magical one.

***

While our friendship seemed low maintenance and we rarely argued, there was always a tension between us. All I knew was there were periods where we were butting heads over what seemed to be the littlest things. Chance and I hated confrontation; the idea of fighting with someone I loved scared me, and even moreso, the fear of losing him. Of course, there were times when my mind locked up and I couldn't speak my feelings or thoughts on anything, and in retrospect it seemed like I was hiding things from him, which I was, albeit unintentionally. It was like I had temporarily shut down. He'd get angry but try not to show it, but I was hyper-sensitive to the changes in his mood that I'd pick up on it and spaz out even more. These strangely passive aggressive arguments would last about an hour, leaving me emotionally drained and him bitterly silent. For the longest time I didn't know what set them off and never saw it coming until it was too late.

"What do you think of that guy over there?" Chance asked, as we walked around Dupont Circle's fountain. My eyes lined up to where he was pointing and there was a young man a few years older than us sitting on one of the many benches. He was handsome, almost devastatingly so, his eyes lowered as he read a book. My first impression was that he was very fashionable, down to his perfectly cropped faux-hawk. I winced as he looked up suddenly, and our eyes made contact by accident as we walked past him and he smiled at me. Shit, I thought, he saw me.

"Erm, he's nice, I guess," I murmured, shifting my eyes away from him as if I had accidentally stared at the sun. "Not my type, but he's nice." What the hell was that? I thought maddeningly; I didn't even HAVE a type.

"Oh that's too bad, I think he's been checking you out for the past half hour or so," Chance replied, his eyes glinting with glee. I rolled mine. He was off his rocker. And anyone who 'checked me out' must be daft or something. Did I just say daft? Regardless of what I told him, my necked craned just a bit to see the guy. He wasn't there anymore. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted. Chance and I meandered to the Starbucks near the fountain, my mind was a bit clouded by what happened earlier. It was just a fluke right?

"Okay, you look like you're totally lost," Chance said, slurping loudly from his Strawberries and Creme Frappucino. I had spent a good 5 minutes staring at the milk swirl hypnotically in my coffee, letting my mind decompress, admittedly slowly. Even when he spoke, my mind didn't register that it was really him that was speaking.

"What?" I said dumbly, jerking my head up from its slumping position. Chance rolled his eyes and grinned at me.

"You. Look. Lost," he said this time louder and slower. I smiled to cover up how out of it I was, but he clearly wasn't impressed. He leaned over, resting his weight on his elbows and looked at me sternly from under the brim of my hat. My eyes averted his. "Look Eli, you can't keep doing this. Don't lock up on me."

"I'm not, I'm just thinking," I said numbly. There was a long stretch of silence, that kind where there should have been dialog, noise, something. Instead both of us were dead quiet. In my head, a storm of words, feelings and thoughts pounded away. I had so much I wanted to talk about and I knew anything I'd say would come out wrong.

"Look, I hate it when you get this way, I feel like, like I'm failing you as a friend or something," he said. He'd never truly understand, I thought, grimacing sourly. It wasn't his fault, it was my own sorry ineptitude. Each second I didn't answer made him more visibly perturbed. Finally, "Do you want me to leave?" No, I don't, I thought, trying desperately to voice my desires but my jaw had locked up. Lame, isn't it? "Give me something to work with, please!" his voice got louder, booming with anxiety, his cheeks flushed red. Fuck fuck fuck, I don't know what to say! All that was left of me was a morbidly silent angst-filled teenager unable to voice any emotion.

"Fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow," he bristled as he got up from his chair and stormed out. My eyes squinted in anger. FUCK! I mentally screamed. A half hour passed, the swirls in my coffee had blended turning the coffee a light brown. By then I was fuming at myself and thoroughly emotionally drained. It would always boil down to the same line: I could never tell him how I felt about him. Never in a hundred years could I admit it to him. Chances are, he already knew. He wasn't an idiot. But that's what made things worse, how could he know and never acknowledge it? I guess it was something we'd never talk about. My jaw clenched in frustration. I hated being me.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?" I heard a crisp British voice ask from in front of me. I cocked my head upward and found myself staring into the eyes of...wait was that the guy from the fountain? Mr. Impossibly Cute guy? Ah hell, he probably wanted to hawk the seat for meeting friends or something. I grimaced and shook my head, reaching for my bag.

"No, it's all yours," I said dumbly, slinging my bag over my shoulder. The look on the man's face contorted into a grimace and he held up his hand to stop me.

"Erm, excuse for being forward, but I was hoping to sit with you for a few. Would you mind?" he asked, then smiled, flashing his impossibly perfect teeth. For a few seconds I was totally stumped and instead of answering, gawked. What was this guy's angle? As if to pick up on my hesitation, he quipped, "You seem like someone interesting to talk to."

"Oookay," I said, sitting down, gingerly. I cast a cautious glance to either side to make sure I wasn't being secretly filmed on Candid Camera then looked back at him sitting perfectly poised. Man, I hate his perfect posture. He sat there, smiling dreamily, that smile that looked like he was squinting, staring into my soul. His face was flawless, even the creases around his eyes seemed manufactured.

"I'm David. David Southeby," he said, while I was in mid-thought. He casually reached a hand across the table. Not wanting to look like a douche, I gave him a firm handshake.

"I'm Eli, nice to meet you," I said politely. My eyes seemed fixated on his baby blue eyes which seemed like they glowed from how radiant they were.

"I don't want to sound intrusive, but that bloke, that man you were with, was he your, erm, boyfriend?" he asked. My eyes widened. Chance and I? A couple? Boyfriends? Is that how the world saw us?

"No, we're just friends, I guess," I replied dumbly. David looked at me as if a 50 lb. weight was lifted off his shoulders.

"Then that gives me a sporting chance, eh?" he said, his grin brightened the poor lighting of Starbucks. My head jerked back.

"Excuse me, what?" I said, smiling nervously. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.

"I heard what you said outside by the fountain about me not being your type. It's pretty rare for someone to say that. About me, I mean," he said, smiling gently. I cocked a brow.

"You're joking right?" I murmured. The look on his face remained stoic, unflinching, almost a cocky blank look. The ultimate deadpan. "I guess you're not. Kind of full of yourself, aren't you?"

"No, I don't believe so. Just telling it like it is. Incidentally, you intrigue me," David said coyly. I rolled my eyes, not sure if I should throw the lukewarm coffee in his face or keep chatting. I was starved for attention, David's candid attitude intrigued me. I held onto my cup of coffee, and instead allowed the banter to continue.

"Why? Because I don't find you as attractive as you think you are?" I replied. David laughed.

"Partially, I suppose. There's something about you that I like." His words caught me offguard and I visibly straightened my spine and widened my eyes. I quickly regained my composure and grinned toothily. "And would like to get to know better."

"Gotta get through a first date to find out, I guess, huh?" I said, taking a sip from my coffee. Caffeine and nerves getting the better of my senses.

"Does that mean you'll consider it?"

"You're getting close." Both of us were smiling, unable to hide our amusement. "Very close."

"Good. How's this Friday, say 7:30?" He pulled out a monthly planner from his bag and thumbing through it. I shrugged and nodded.

"Friday sounds good. You aren't a schmoozer are you? I hate schmoozers." I studied his eyes as I said that.

"No schmoozing here. 100% bonafide British aristocrat. I hope you would forgive me for being British" He mused. I shook my head, and my smile became more demure. "Good, and since this our first date, would you like flowers?"

"Oh hell no. Don't get cheesy on me, Southeby."

"Oh? Are we on a last name basis now?" he asked coyly. "You cheated, you didn't give your last name."

"Gotta have something to talk about on our date, right?" I replied. David's eyes crinkled with amusement and he cast a glance downward at my coffee idly, then back up at me.

"I can tell I'm going to enjoy this."

***

The romantic banter between David and I helped me forget about the argument about nothing with Chance. I had been floating on a cloud of billowy elation for the remainder of the day. Toward sundown of that night, I believe it was on a Sunday, my cell phone began ringing.

"Hello?" I asked politely.

"Hey, I was wondering how you were doing," he said, more as a question than a statement. I smiled gently, opening up my sketchbook to the last drawing I had been working on.

"Good! Actually, really good," I mused. Chance sighed a sigh of relief and I could hear the phone shuffling from shoulder to shoulder. "I have a date!"

"A date? Whoa, when did this happen?!" he exclaimed. I chuckled. And like that, the fans of anger and anguish from our previous conversation had dissipated.

"After you left. That guy from the fountain, he asked me out!" I squealed. We both squealed actually, it was quite a gay moment. "He's really charming, very British."

"That is so awesome, man! Wait, he isn't a schmoozer is he? You hate schmoozers," he chided. I laughed and shook my head.

"No, just 'a 100% British aristocrat.' We didn't get into details on the date, only that he's really interested for some reason," I said. In my sketchbook, I had begun a series of spirals and cloud shaped lines.

"Well, you have a lot to offer, so I'm not surprised. When is it, by the way?" he asked. My eyes looked to the ceiling for the answer.

"Friday, 7:30. We're meeting at Bethesda for dinner and a walk."

"....But that's the day we were going for our weekly coffee and people watching thing!" he said. His words hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh crap, he was right. We had this ritual of celebrating the end of the work week with going to a greasy spoon and splurging on caffeine and gawking at people as they walked by. Generally speaking, it was the highlight of my week since it was spent with the love of my life and a near bottomless cup of coffee. But this was a date! It was the first date...ever!

"Oh man, I just realized. Can we reschedule?" This was a historical moment. Never before had I ever opted to reschedule with Chance. Hell, if anything I opted out of things to spend time WITH him. My heart sunk after I said those words.

"I guess that'd be fine. I'll find something to do." I wasn't sure if there was regret in his voice, or if I was simply making it up. The rest of the conversation petered out. I felt awful but giddy at the same time and secretly hoped Chance would ask me not to go. I mean, I would have done so if he had asked.

***

Since this was the first date for me, I wasn't sure how to prepare. I kept news of my date hidden from my other friends since things had a way of getting out of hand with them and I felt that not telling them would allow me to enjoy myself and not worry about how the date might go with visions of my friends floating about my head telling me what not to do and how not to do them. Since the date was across the metro line, I got ready early and by early I mean hours early. I got showered, shaved, stared at yet another gray hair that appeared on my sideburns and then stared longingly at the mirror hoping that David didn't see the hundreds of flaws that I saw everyday.

The metro ride was quiet and pleasant. I had learned to use my time drawing my super heroes or people around me. I didn't want to engage people in conversation though, I kept to myself, mentally psyching myself up for the dinner. I hope he was a nice guy, and I hope I didn't spaz out during dinner.

When the Bethesda metro station came up, I gathered my belongings and headed up the escalators. My earphones blasted soothing jazz music, Dinah Washington and her voice did well to keep me sane as I reached the top. Then casually looking down at my watch I realized that I was an hour early. Ah well, I rationalized, better to be an hour early than an hour late. The next 30 minutes I spent flipping through my portable CD player for interesting songs and people watching. Bethesda was a notoriously white city so I stuck out like a sore thumb. All the while I kept hoping the date went well. The nerves were getting to me.

Finally after 45 minutes, I found myself looking up from my sketchbook every couple seconds to make sure David hadn't walked by. Every couple seconds. When 55 minutes had passed I had begun the possible reality of David not showing up, playing in my head. Oh man, what happens if that happens? What if he comes then decides he isn't interested? What happens if he loses interest mid-date? And after 59 minutes, I felt the panic set in.

"Oh man, he's not going to show, is he?" I said to myself, closing my sketchbook and slipping it into my bag. Maybe waiting a few minutes wouldn't be a bad idea. So I kept waiting. 5 then 10 minutes passed and I had begun torturing myself with the many instances where getting stood up would be justifiable. Finally after 20 minutes I got up and started heading to the metro.

"Eli!" I heard a voice call out from across the street. I could make out David's arms swinging madly from across the street. He looked haggard like he had run a marathon. His dress shirt was soaked with sweat. I turned around and smiled weakly at him unsure of how I should respond.

"David?" I called out, watching him run through traffic, bobbing and weaving between cars. He made it safely to me and grabbed my hands in his, his eyes lowered shamefully.

"I am SO sorry, love, I was in an accident heading back from Silver Spring. Some ass slammed on his brakes and totaled my car. Had to run halfway from Silver Spring! That dolt," he exclaimed. His hands gripped mine as he realized he was going overboard with his explanation. I smiled reassuringly at him and returned the squeeze. "I'm so sorry, Eli, I was hoping our first date would have been more magical than this. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"No problem, I'm just glad you're unharmed. Shouldn't you be with your car in its time of need?" I asked. He chuckled, his face drained away the red.

"It's all right, a rental company is going to meet us after dinner so I can drop you off at home," he said, quickly glancing down at his watch. "Blast, I was hoping to not be late for our dinner reservations. We can still make it if you want to jog." He was right, we were at least 20 minutes late for our dinner reservations.

"Only if you're up for it. There's also an Outback Steakhouse around the corner. Shouldn't be too busy at this hour," I said helpfully. I could see David weighing the options. It was a good 8 block job to the restaurant and a block and a half to Outback.

"Lets do it. Outback I mean, I had to run 3 miles in 45 minutes, running anymore and I might need you to resuscitate me," he replied to which I laughed. "Hey, it'd be nice to have your lips on mine."

"First date, buddy. You get a firm handshake and if you're good, a manly hug. Though I might regret the latter because of how sweaty you are."

The moment we entered the steakhouse, I saw my favorite waitress, Genevieve and she smiled and waved at me. The greeter also smiled and motioned us to follow her. This had been my favorite steakhouse because of location and the ambiance felt incredibly inviting. We were seated in a booth and Genevieve came by and sat next to me.

"Eli, it's been a month since you last came!" she exclaimed. I blushed, not wanting to come across as a voracious carnivore (which I was) to David. I elbowed Genevieve in the ribs and she laughed. "So who's the cutie?"

"The cutie across the table is David," David said, extending his hand and giving a firm handshake with our waitress. She gave me a sideways glance and nodded, smiling impishly.

"Would David like a drink to start off your date?" she asked. I chuckled. "Aside from the ginger ale and water for Eli?"

"Might I see your wine list?"

"Yes, you might," Genevieve said turning around and heading to the the front desk. I had never ordered alcohol while coming to Outback, in fact I rarely drank so the waitstaff and greeters never included the wine list with the menus. Moments later, she came back handing the list to David.

"Where's Greg, Eli? You two seem like you were joined at the hip," she asked, while whipping out her ordering pad. I rolled my eyes and grimaced sourly. It had been a time where I had been intentionally avoiding him, fearing that something awful would happen to me should I be in close proximity.

"He's working the graveyard shift. Should be coming around soon though, I guess," I stammered.

"Okay, if you see him, tell him I said hello. Anyway, want your usual?" she asked. I nodded. The usual consisted of the same thing, everytime: Outback Style Prime Rib, house salad with salad dressing on the side, an order of mixed vegetables and a Bloomin' Onion. David gawked at how we interacted with one another. She turned her gaze to him and he quickly fumbled with his menu before realizing how out of place he was.

"I-I'll get the same thing, please. Oh and your house merlot," he said politely. She smiled, taking our menus and headed to the kitchen. I was eating this up and couldn't hide my amusement. David gave me a bashful look and straightened his back.

"I take it you're a regular here?" he asked. I nodded.

"Kind of. A few friends of mine come here once in a while. When I can afford it," I replied. Dinner came and I got to watch David cut up his steak with deadly precision. He only got through half of his meal while I had finished hoovering mine into oblivion. Actually I left a few scraps of fat and began playing with it. The dinner was filled with lots of little conversation pieces, not really small talk. It turned out David was a law student, working in DC for a few months for a law firm specializing in corporate law. A lot of the jargon went in one ear and out the other for me but he seemed happy to talk about what he did. He had actually moved from London to study law in the US though was a little dodgy about talking about his family or his past. Periodically between conversation and mouthfuls of steak there would be uncomfortable moments of silence where our eyes would lock onto each other. His gaze was powerful and I found myself looking away or starting up conversation.

"You know, I didn't get your last name," he chimed in when there was a convenient lull in conversation. I smiled innocently.

"It's Li," I mused, then quickly added, "Spelled L-I, not L-E-E."

"Why do you make such a distinction between the two?" he asked.

"Because I don't want people to think I'm some kick-ass martial artist," I replied. David let out a bellowing laugh. Judging from his body language, with the leaning forward and intense eye contact, seemed like signs that he was interested. In fact, David seemed enthralled about everything I talked about, though my history was far from interesting. He asked about whether or not I'd go back to school for art and I shot him down immediately saying that school was the last priority on my list of things to do. Besides, what on earth would I do with an art degree? Dinner was winding down; we split a Chocolate Thunder from Down Under and afterwards we split the cost of dinner, though it was really hard for me to get David to agree with. I told him that I didn't want someone to pay for everything. It was after the tip was paid for that I realized that almost 3 hours had passed. I waved to Genevieve as we walked out. It was nearing 10:30pm. The metro ride from Bethesda would have taken a solid hour to get home.

"Want me to take you home?" David offered as we walked to the new rental car waiting for us at the curb. I waved my hand in dismissal.

"It's okay, David, a ride to Silver Spring would be nice since it'd cut down on the time. Presuming you don't get into another accident," I chirped. David rolled his eyes and gave me his prize-winning grin. The drive was pleasant, we kept our conversation going while he drove and of course I had to ask, "So how'd the date go for you?"

"I loved it. Loved every moment," he said. As we neared Silver Springs Metro station's Kiss and Ride, he turned to me, "So do I get another date? Or at the very least, that manly hug good-bye you hinted at earlier?"

"Sure and sure," I said as he parked the car at one of the metered parking areas. I unhooked the seatbelt and turned to hug him, inhaling his cologne and manly musk. His arms felt strong around my waist and he smelled like sweat, soap and aftershave. The hug lasted a good half minute and we pulled away and I was unsure whether or not to kiss him. I chickened out and we shook hands and I bid him a good evening.