Even Stars Die - 4. Chapter 4

The text on my cell phone screen says: "I know u like movies. Wanna join me?"

He's brave. I like that. I'm vulnerable right now. I like that. There is mutual attraction. But do I need to be reminded every day that there might be more to my feelings for Alex than I would care to admit. He has this knack of being around when needed, and I needed company.

I texted him: "Yup."

This is the start of it. The moment I throw caution to the wind, and express my true self, willingly. A flutter descends over me. My heart feels a million times heavier as the adrenaline and testosterone surges through my body.

I never say no to a movie. I take note of the actors, directors and producers, and file them away with a small critique for future reference. Apart from track and field athletics, it brings joy to my life. I think I've seen almost every memorable movie there is to see.

Alex allows me to choose the movie and the seats. Avatar. At the kiosk we buy popcorn and a box of chocolate whispers to share.

I like the middle of the movie house, away from the light shining beyond the doors. He guides me all the way, reminding me to be careful of the steps. The seats are close and the moment the lights go down, I realise that his knee is touching mine.

And then, without warning, he slips his hand into mine. Caresses my fingers. Draws circles. His energy feeds me and I feel the tingling with every touch. Every now and then my attention is turned away from the movie to look at him, only to find him staring back at me.

The movie ends all too soon and we're back on the road, he's taking me home and he hasn't said a word since pulling away. Distant.

'You okay?' I ask, glancing his way.

'I'm fine. Just thinking of the movie. You liked it?'

'Tremendous. The special effects are mind-blowing.'

'They are.'

'Something bothering you?'

'Yes, actually there is.'

'So spill, what is it?'

'It’s you. You're nervous with me and I don't want you to be.'

'Does it show?'

'Like white against black.'

'Is that it?'

'You know I like you. Do you want to continue our friendship?'

People don't ask for friendships. Friendships develop over days, sometimes months, even years.

'I'm not saying I want to go to bed with you. Hell, that's a lie. I'm saying if you can't decide now, I'll wait. I've waited this long, I may as well wait a few moments more.'

'Maybe we need to get to know each other first. Take our time about this.'

'How do you feel about me? Don't answer that, let me tell you. You think I'm a cheeky bastard, but you like me because I'm so honest and straightforward and you know deep down that if you say no now, you will later say yes.'

And that is exactly what I was thinking.

'How....how did you?'

'What?'

I nod my head in disbelief for a moment then disregard it,'Never mind, just a thought I had.'

Do I want this in my life? Especially right now? A part of me says this should never have happened. But Alex is the best thing that will ever happen to me. My soul says there are bigger things to consider, my heart says what is meant to be will be. Logic tells me I should concentrate on athletics. It will be best to forget this ever happened and move on.

    * * *

He hadn't told me of the twelve steps leading up to his front door. He must have noticed the look of helplessness on my face because he suddenly gathers me into his arms and negotiates the steps one by one.

'Hey what are you doing?'

'I completely forgot about your legs.'

'It's not a train smash, Alex. I can do the steps. Steps are not a problem.'

I'm in his arms and he's carrying me up the steps and he glares into my eyes and says, 'Shhhhh. I want to do this, okay. Just let me do it. Go with the moment.'

He's a little wobbly, but he makes it to the door and then the battle for the keys begins. He can't put me down and he can't insert the key. I laugh. I've never laughed so much in a long time. He laughs too. Then stops.

'My arms have had it - man you're heavy.'

'So they tell me. Where are the keys?'

'In my left trouser pocket - can you reach it?'

I place my hand in his pocket.

'Careful.' He says, smiling at me.

The keys are in my hand and I jangle them in front of his nose.

'Now open the flippin' door.'

The key turns in the lock and we're inside and I'm gently lowered onto the sofa in the lounge.

'Wow - my arms are numb.'

'Sorry.'

He stares at me, grins and says, 'I didn't mean to sound over exerted. I'd do it again any day. Make yourself at home. What music do you like?'

'Classical mostly. Debussy, Live, Sting, anything Neil Diamond and jazz. Anything really.'

'Anything by a group named Steam?'

'Of-course - I forgot. They're the best. Got something?'

He smiles. 'Nope - but I have a lot of classical stuff.'

He puts on Debussy's Claire de Lune and I lean back to relax while he pours us a drink.

'Here's to your career.'

Our glasses meet and I smile, 'Thank you.'

He sits on the floor in front of me, staring. 'I've never met anyone quite like you.'

'What? Crippled?'

'Someone who is simple and honest.'

I've never been complimented in such a manner. 'But you don't know me.'

'I think I've known you all of my life, just didn't know that you existed. How did it happen?'

'What?'

'Your legs, how did it happen?'

I can't bring myself to say the words. I've never spoken to any one about the accident. There are sleepless nights. Nights of tears and anger. It's the stuff of nightmares and to bring them out would be foolish.

'You'd rather not talk about it?'

'Do you mind?'

'No problem. When you're ready you'll tell me.'

I remain silent. The thought lingers. Perhaps I will tell him one day, now is not the time.

'So what are you going to do with your athletics career?'

I place my hands behind my head, 'I hope to qualify for the Olympics.'

'If anyone can do it, I believe you will. Hard work is all I can say.'

'Damned right. Coach is a slave driver. Tries to get the best out of everyone. I try hard. It's exhausting.'

'I can imagine.'

'Enough about me - what about you?'

'What about me?'

'Have you aspirations of greatness?'

'And then some. Singing is my life. Being a member of a band was only a dream some years ago. Now that's all I dream about, the next gig, the next song.'

'The next person you'll meet?'

'What?'

'Sorry, I didn't mean to be so intrusive. Forget I said that.'

He shifts uneasily. Places his drink on the table, and then stares directly into my eyes. 'Do I hear a little hint of jealousy in your voice?'

I remain silent. I don't know where this is all leading and the funny thing is I'm not scared. He reaches out and places his hand gently on mine. The bristles on my neck stand up.

'The night I met you everything became clear to me. I saw you the moment you came into the room.'

'Hard not to notice a guy wearing prosthetic legs.'

'Besides that. You filled the room. I wanted to ...'

'You wanted to ...?'

'Let's change the music.'

He removes his hand, cool air rushes over my knuckles.

'No.' I say, leaning forward, 'leave the music. It's beautiful. Tell me what is it you wanted to do.'

He is scared, I can tell by his heavy breathing, he leans forward and our heads come closer.

'Kiss you.' He whispers.

Our lips meet softly, he pulls away, then comes forward, and our lips meet again. I can feel his hot breath. I can feel his love reaching out for me through the softness of his skin. He's gentle and manly at the same time and at last, fuck it, at last I feel wanted as his tongue explores my lips, my face, my eyes. I want this so much but something tells me to stop lest I reach the point of no return.

'Stop.' I place my shaking hands between us.

He pulls away immediately.

'I've got to go. I can't do this.'

Everything is swimming around me.

His power makes me drunk.

Illogical.

'I didn't mean to...I mean I'm sorry if I...' He stammers.

'No.' I raise my hands, ' it's me. I've never experienced this before and I don't know if I should be doing it.'

'I understand. I'm the one who led you to this point. Let's forget this ever happened okay?'

I nod my head, walk to the door and open it.

'I'm sorry, Alex.'