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Miranda's Men

The Trip

It had been three weeks since that fateful night. I saw Dave a couple times a week, whenever he came to take Miranda out, or go shopping with her, or spend the night. We’d never exchange anything more than a passing glance, or a quick hello. Every time I saw her guide him into her bedroom, my stomach churned more and more. They were going stronger than ever, and as they became closer, Dave and I grew apart.

Monday morning, as I was preparing to leave for work, Miranda’s door was still shut. She was in school, and I was interning at a media company. On top of being a beautiful woman asleep next to her perfect, gorgeous hockey-playing boyfriend, I got to add sleeping in on a Monday to the list of reasons to envy her. Dave had stayed over that night, and he was still in Miranda's room with her as I gathered my things. Just as I slipped my black heels on and grabbed my car keys, Miranda’s door opened, and I froze. Dave emerged from the bedroom, once again in only a pair of boxer-briefs, and shut the door behind him gently, not yet noticing I was watching him in the kitchen like a statue. He finally looked up, and when he saw me standing there in my peacoat, clutching my purse and my keys, he almost took a half-step backwards. He pressed his lips together, and his matted hair was standing up on end. Both of us simply stood, unmoving, waiting for the other to react first. Finally, Dave cleared his throat, his voice husky. “Hi.”
“...Hi.”

This could have been the longest conversation we had had for three weeks. All I wanted to do was toss off my coat, blow off work, and play NHL '12 with him all day. I missed talking to him. I missed his cute Swedish accent. I missed everything about him. “Off to work?”
I nodded, squeezing the handles of my purse tighter. I swallowed hard, and his friendly blue eyes were morose and apologetic. “Listen...I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”
My breath caught in my chest, and my purse almost fell to the ground as my limbs went numb. “For what?”
He tilted his head, silent. He eyed me as if he was saying, ‘you know what I mean.’ I gave him a weak half smile. He started to walk towards me, and my mouth began to dry up. After taking a few steps, he stopped. “I’m leaving tonight.”
I shrugged. “I did expect you to leave at some point.”
He shook his head. “No, I mean I’m leaving on a road trip. For two weeks.”

I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. Two weeks? This half-naked man that stood in front of me had completely altered my entire thought process over the past month, and now I had to be without him for two weeks? I wanted to drop everything, latch myself onto him, and never let go. “Oh...okay. Well, good luck.” That was all I could say. Good luck. It sounded like something a complete stranger would say to him.

“Thank you.” He paused, taking a few more steps, and put one hand on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t tell Miranda about what happened that night. I wanted to that night, but when I got here, we didn’t do a whole lot of, um...talking.” My gag reflex was weakening by the second. He winced at how what he had just said must have sounded, and cleared his throat again. “Before you left, I had to ask you something.”

My mouth was so dry, I didn’t think I could move my mouth to answer his question. I waited impatiently as I silently begged for him to spit it out. When he looked up at me, his blue eyes searching, my entire body felt on fire under my thick peacoat. “Is there anything that you wanted to talk about before I go?”

What? Talk about? My veins turned to ice at the realization of what his question meant. I couldn’t answer that question. Not there, while he was standing in his underwear, his strong stomach muscles just asking for me to run my hands along them. Not when my roommate was fifteen feet away. I swallowed what seemed like a giant rock in my throat, and looked into his eyes. “...No. Have fun on your road trip. Score lots of goals, hope you win.”

His face was unchanged for what seemed like minutes, his eyes lingering on me. He looked deep in thought, and almost...disappointed. Why couldn’t I just say what was on my mind? He was practically begging for me to say something to him, anything to him, to make things go back to the way they were. Finally, he twisted his mouth to the side, biting the inside of his lip. At that moment, I saw Miranda open the door, holding her comforter around her naked body. Dave turned to her, standing up straight. “Hey Leslie, have a good day at work!” she said groggily. “Davey, come back to bed.” There was her signature devilish grin, and Dave floated towards her the second she threw it his way. “Bye Leslie,” he said one last time.

“Bye,” I whimpered weakly as Miranda pulled him in by the hand, shutting the door. I heard her drop the comforter to the floor, and she erupted in giggles. I couldn’t have walked out of that apartment any faster. I tried to repeat it to myself in my head, but it sounded wrong every way I tried to shape it. I would just have to accept that he was gone.

* * *

I drove home from work that Friday in a state of numbness. It had been a state that I’d been living in all week. I’d go to work, return home, eat, sleep, repeat. Without Dave, life was dull. He still wasn’t returning for another week. I couldn’t bring myself to watch his hockey games. I had heard from Kendra that they had won two games in a row. She had been calling and texting Mika every day since they left. I hadn’t heard a word from Dave all week. At least once a day, I would type out a text message to him, asking him how he was doing, or how the trip was, but I would always end up deleting it and shoving my phone back in my pocket. It was pathetic; first I couldn't tell him how I felt, now I couldn't even send a measly text message to him. I couldn’t wait to go home, jump in my bed, and sleep away the weekend. Anything to make the time pass faster.

All week I had thought about what I’d say to him when he returned. He’d be around the apartment with Miranda, and we'd be back to the same, awkward routine. The tension between us was so strong that I just wanted things to be great again, when we played video games, play-fighting and talking about life together. Despite everything, I was at peace with him being with Miranda. Everything in me still ached for his warm hands to touch my skin again, but I was more than happy being his friend. I just wanted him back in my life, any way he could.

When I arrived back at my apartment, I threw open the front door, plopping my leather handbag on the floor. I stopped in my tracks when I saw an unfamiliar man on my couch, lounging and staring at the TV screen, which was seemingly Paranormal Activity on pause. Eyebrows furrowed, I slowly paced towards the stranger, and I got a better look at him as I approached. Everything about him screamed ‘model’. His skin was impossibly tanned for the time of year, his hair was gelled into a perfectly coiffed mess, his muscles bulged out of his white t-shirt, and his jaw was squarer than...well, a square. I squirmed at his socked feet crossed on my clean glass coffee table, and his hands were folded over his flat stomach. When he heard the front door shut, he looked my way and straightened up. “Hello,” he said in a deep, booming voice. “You must be Laurie!”
“Leslie...” I answered, brows still knit. “Who are you?”
“I’m Grey. Nice to meet you.”
Grey? What kind of name was Grey? Silly models and their silly made-up names. He walked over and held out his large hand for me to shake just as Miranda emerged from the bathroom. “Oh, Leslie! You’re home!” she exclaimed, in an almost surprised tone.
“I do live here...” I responded snidely.
“I see you’ve met Grey. He’s in my poli-sci class. We were studying for midterms and then we got bored so we started watching a movie.” Grey nodded along expectantly.
“Fantastic,” I replied, tossing my coat on the coat rack. “I’ll be in my room. Enjoy the movie.”
They played the movie just as I began towards my room. Not once had Miranda ever brought over a male friend that was really a 'male friend'. It was odd. Almost before I had even shut the door, I heard the smacking noises of kissing coming from the living room.

Once my door had shut, I glued myself to the door, palms flat against the painted wood. As I listened to the sounds coming from my living room, I squeezed my eyes shut and a tear slowly rolled down my cheek. This wasn’t happening. Miranda wasn’t cheating on Dave fifteen feet and a closed door away from me. I quickly pulled out my phone, buried myself under my comforter and called Kendra.
After a couple rings, she answered. “Hello?”
I breathed heavily in the phone. “Kendra?”
“Leslie? Are you okay?”
“Kendra, Miranda is in my living room on the couch watching a movie with some guy named Blue or Green or Purple or whatever the fuck his name is, and they're making out.”
“What?!” I let out a quiet sob. “Are you crying? Why are you crying, Leslie?”
I exhaled, more hot tears streaming down. “I don’t know. I’m just so upset with her. How could she do something like that to such an amazing guy? He’s so great to her. When she had that cold last week, he showed up here with flowers, a mug of soup and a box of tissues. He's so great, Kendra. He's so smart and witty, he's so sweet, not to mention gorgeous...I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy like that in my life, Kendra. She has everything, and she’s just throwing it all away, for what? Some Abercrombie model with biceps larger than his brain?”
I heard silence on the other end of the line. I wiped my tears as I waited for a response. “...You’re in love with him, aren’t you?" she asked.

I breathed quietly into the phone. Kendra could always read me like a book. My cheeks felt hot, and I grabbed a Kleenex from my bedside table, curling up into a ball on my bed and gripping my cellphone to my ear. “What should I do?”
“I...I don’t know,” she replied huskily. “Listen. How about I bring over some Starbucks and we can have a girl’s night in?”
“What about Miranda?”
“If Miranda’s going to cheat on the man you love, she can take it to the $10 motel where she and her fucked up actions belong.”
I sputtered out a mucusy laugh and smiled. “Thanks Kendra. See you soon.”

Comments

Love it so happy I found it

lil_red0888 lil_red0888
12/6/14

Love it

this is (was?) really good! awesome writing, really good plot line, and i lovedlovedloved dave <3333 good job :)

Candi Candi
12/28/13
I enjoyed this very much-
Tento2 Tento2
10/9/13