Red Running Shoes - 1. First Impression

Dear Zach.

I have to start somewhere, so why not with the day I met Ren for the first time at my friend Chris’s house. Chris wanted to show me something, but hadn’t said what. As soon as I was through the front door, he grabbed my arm, dragging me into the living room where he pushed me onto the couch.

"All right, Jonah, sit here and tell me what you think, okay? Be honest.” He rubbed his hands against his thighs and, when he noticed what he was doing, pushed them into his back pockets. “You know I can’t dance for shit and Eric said he’ll be at Checker’s later tonight.” He turned and nodded at the place where his entertainment center was. “Ren here offered to show me some moves. Um…"

"Oookay." What the hell? Moves? Because my ex was at the club that evening?

Right on cue, a slow, sensual song started. Ren slid behind Chris, and I thought, ‘Neat. Must be one of his moves.’

Placing his hands on Chris’s hips, Ren slowly gyrated their bodies to the music. Chris tried his best to follow. His awkward actions made me grin. Until Ren stage-whispered, "Now rub your cute butt against me."

Chris tensed, then did as he was told, which promptly got him a: "Yesss, that's it. Let me feel you, baby."

Honestly? I couldn't believe what I saw – and heard. Cute butt? Baby? I mean okay, Chris’s ass was hot, but still... And it got better.

"Now lean back, head on my shoulder, yeah like that baby, bare your throat to me. Make me want to taste you.” He pressed his mouth against Chris’s jaw and murmured, “Hands on my hands. Where do you want to feel Eric's touch? Show me." All the time Ren’s dark eyes watched me, dared me, while he put Chris through his ‘moves’. "On your waist?" Ren ran their joined hands slowly over Chris's stomach until they rested on his waist. "On your chest? Your face? Your thigh?" Their hands wandered over Chris's body, until they landed on his dick. Chris hissed but Ren never took his eyes off me.

I was sitting there with my jaw dropping to the floor. I mean, in a way it was hot watching them making out between the TV and the coffee table at four in the afternoon, it really was, but it was also plain wrong. This was so not Chris and in that exact moment I knew I didn’t like Ren.

Keep telling yourself this... Shut up, Zach.

What could I say and still be Chris's friend afterwards? Then Ren had the audacity to flat out ask me, "So, what do you think Jonah, as you are like an expert, being Eric's ex. You certainly know how to push all the right buttons." He actually winked at me. "Do you think he'll go for it?"

Ren knew perfectly well what I was thinking and he challenged me to say it out loud.

One thing you need to know about me, Zach, I have never refused a challenge. So I scrunched up my forehead and pretended to do some heavy thinking.

"Well, he might stomp away from the dance floor when Chris starts rubbing his ass against his crotch, because he thinks Chris is making fun of him and that is something Eric really, really hates. Maybe he'll think Chris kept bad company and was infected by the slut-virus." Here I looked pointedly at Ren, waggling my eyebrows for good measure. "Or, by a very small chance, he'll drag Chris to the nearest bathroom stall for a quick fuck.” The thought alone made me sick, because the chance Eric would do exactly that wasn’t as small as I would have liked. I couldn’t just sit on the couch any longer. “If Eric is looking for something more serious than that, it won’t happen just because Chris suddenly has ‘some cool moves’."

Clearly unimpressed by my ranting Ren asked, "How would you react if someone danced like that with you?"

And because it’s confession time - and this stays between you and me Zach - I’ll tell you all the cringe-worthy details.

Ren’s calmness infuriated me. I can still hear my thoughts loud and clear. ‘Who the hell does he think he is? Fucker!’ Then I looked at him closer and remembered seeing him at a club once before. Nobody had told me his name but Chris mentioned something about a friend of a friend, half-Japanese, half-German, which explained the pretty almond shaped dark eyes. Taller than Chris’s six feet, sleek shoulder-length raven-black hair, clothes that fit too well to be cheap, everything about him screamed: I'm rich, I'm gorgeous, and I know it. What can I say; he was my very own bogeyman.

Of course I ran my mouth faster than my brain could keep up with. "How would I react? Being Chris or being Eric?" I shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have played his game.

"Being Eric."

"Oh, I'd probably stomp away from the dance floor, not speaking a word to Chris for the next weeks because I would think he was fucking with me; I would think that he’d been infected by a slut, or--

"I think I get it," Ren snapped and I silently crowed. I was not the only one who got pissed off.

"What would work for you then, how would you like to be… er… wooed?"

He was mocking me, I knew that. "Wooed, huh?" I grinned. "Is that even a word? Woo-ed?" When I saw him scowling, I cheered inwardly. ‘Yes! Asshole. Take that!’ I kindly elaborated. "I prefer someone who is creative and doesn't try to woo me with a line I've heard a million times before. If someone just wants to fuck, he should tell me exactly that." By then I was standing right in front of Ren. "Or maybe, just maybe, I could be the woo~er and not the woo~ee?"

Speaking of new words...

The fucker had the nerve to grin. "Interesting, and could it be that you predicted Eric's response the way you did because it would be how you would want him to react?"

Ouch. And like that he hit a sore spot, not that I told him. "And why would I want that?"

"I don't know, perhaps because you're not over him yet and want him back; you’d rather not see him with someone else, even if it was Chris."

How could someone grin that evilly? Right then I hated Ren with all my fucking heart for what he said to me, and what he was doing to Chris. In minutes he had figured out my best kept secret, or my thought-it-was-my-best-kept-secret. How did he do that? And for him to say it out loud in front of Chris, who just stood there, looking like he wanted to run from his own living room.

Ren had caught me, embarrassed me, crushed me, and inwardly killed me. I couldn't stay there a minute longer, or I’d lose it completely.

"Um…yes, you know what Chris, although your friend -Ren was it, right?- is quite entertaining, I just remembered I have to be somewhere some time, so I think I'll leave you two alone - rehearsing? See you tonight." And I left.

I know Zach, lame, but it was the best I could do.

***

I didn't go to the club that evening; I stayed at home working. Which was strange, even for me…Jonah working…on a Friday night! And because I didn't want to think about Chris and Eric. Or Ren. Ren. His name alone made me want to drink. I poured myself a nice glass of red wine, my I'm-alone-and-I'm-comfortable-with-it beverage. Later I changed Chris’s ringtone from Queen’s ‘You’re my Best Friend’ to Abba’s 'Dancing Queen', and went to bed early.

I never said it was mature, but it felt damn good.

I dreamt of Rumpelstiltskin jumping around me screaming the first line of ‘Dancing Queen’. When I finally realized it was my phone, it stopped. Just when I started to fall back asleep, it rang again.

"What?! Chris, it's about 2 a.m., someone's trying to sleep here!"

"You mean YOU were trying to sleep."

Funny, huh? I hung up. Guess what, it rang again.

"Chris, I'll kill you!"

"Jonah, come on, meet the new boyfriend!"

"And that can't wait till tomorrow?"

"Nooo, please? Besides it is tomorrow."

He had a point. Still mostly asleep, I climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and went to open the door. There stood Eric with his arms around Chris’s waist, smiling sheepishly. I smiled back and then got a bad feeling when I saw movement from the corner of my eye. Ren was leaning against the wall beside the door, with his arms crossed over his chest, waggling his eyebrows. Never in my whole life had I felt the urge to hit something or, more precisely, someone as strongly as I did then. However, I finally pulled myself together to plaster a smile on my face and greet my guests, save for one.

"Well, surprise - I think? Come in, come in, let's celebrate then. I have a bottle of champagne somewhere on my deck, and seeing that it's twenty-three degrees outside it should have just the right drinking temperature." I was so proud of myself for being the extremely-pleased-supportive-glad-for-my-friends friend. And before you ask Zach, Eric and I were long over. All of my friends knew that, only I had a problem with accepting the truth. Until then.

Chris and Eric came inside but when I saw Ren following them, I slammed the door shut, right in his face. He had to pull back fast; otherwise, the door would have crushed his nose. Yay me!

I came back from the deck with the icy cold bottle in my hand to find the new boyfriends were kissing and cuddling on my new sofa. I poured the champagne in the glasses, when Eric suddenly asked, "Hey, where’s Ren? He came upstairs with us, right?"

"Ren?" I asked, feigning ignorance. Hey, I was so good.

"Yes, he drove us here. He came up with us, I’m sure. Chris?"

"He was right behind us in the hall. It was his idea to come here and tell Jonah the good news, after all."

"Is that so?" I asked. My hand was clutching the bottle so hard I thought I was going to crush it; I was barely able to hide my fury. Chris finally went looking for Ren. I held my breath, but fortunately, the fucker was already gone by then.

See, Zach and that is why this document will be protected by a strong password. I won’t survive the embarrassment of someone reading how I reverted into the behavioral pattern of my thirteen-year-old sister.

Now I’m getting myself an espresso from that coffee shop over there, where we wait until our flight is called and I tell you what happened the next morning, Zach.

Queen; You're My Best Friend

Abba: Dancing Queen