9.10 Part One: Old Flames

   "Thanks for meeting me." Asher smiled, as I glanced down at my hands. We hadn't seen each other in four years, nor had we left on the best terms.

   "No problem." I smiled. "Do you want to get lunch or…" I trailed off, not sure what else we could do. Xavier's words kept running through my head: I have a big surprise planned, Pho. When he said the words, his eyes shone and he winked. Now I was out with my ex-study buddy with benefits. 

   I couldn't help but feel guilty; I had admitted to Delilah that I'd had a casual hookup guy at college, but I never told her his name. Or that he had quit college to go to the military and the night before he had to leave for the training facility, he asked me if I would ever consider a real relationship, because he didn't want to have to go into combat not knowing if our nights together had actually meant something or not. He was a kind, generous man, but I didn't like him in a romantic way; it was simply list and I knew that if I gave him the smallest glimmer of hope, I might crush him later on when I turned him down, or worse- when the relationship failed miserably.

   "I was thinking the beach; it has been a rather long time since I've seen you in a bikini and we never put the beach or water on our list." He said light heartedly, glancing down at my flimsy summer dress. 

   "I-I, um..." I gulped, thinking of the list of places where we'd been horny in college.

   "I'm joking."

   "Good, because I don't have a swimsuit. So lunch? I know a good diner; its local and everyone's weirdly friendly."

   "Oh, no." He shook his head, smiling. "I was joking about the list, the swimming I'm serious about. I mean, we can do whatever you want, though."

   "Do you want to swim?" I hadn't seen him in so long; we were so comfortable together than, now I just felt awkward.

   "If you want." 

   "Sure. The beach is a short jaunt from here."

   "Do you need to get a swimsuit?

   "My apartment's like forty five minutes from here in this traffic, it isn't worth it." I shrugged. I agreed to go swimming now; I couldn't back out and I didn't want to risk going back to the apartment and seeing Xavier. He probably wouldn't care, he trusted me, I had no reason to feel guilty or embarrassed, yet I did. "I've got my bra and panties, as long as you swear to not stare."

   "Stare?" He chuckled. "Phoebe, compared to the other things we've done, I think that's the least of your worries."

   "Asher, I know what we've done in the past, but... Part of me wants to stay a college kid, the other part is telling me that I'm twenty-five and need to get my life in order. I barely am alright with being in a bra I front of you, please just... I'm different then what you think. I, not a wild, crazy party girl; that's what I loved about our thing. I didn't know you, so I didn't feel bad that we were using each other, and you didn't know me, so I could try weird stuff or be alright with lying down on the bar and you doing shots from my belly button. With friends, I'm quieter. I don't party, I don't hit up the gym, or yuppie grocery stores, cafes, or boutiques. I'm your standard, studious, artistic, homebody who would rather stay at home curled up with a blanket and a chai tea latte while while playing cards or have a movie marathon all night."

   "Really?" He paled, looking embarrassed. "Phoebe, from the time we spent together you came off as a crazy and wild and hot gal. Not this adorable, quaint, cultured lady."

   "Sorry, it's who I am. If you want to try and find a girl who is really like that, maybe.... I dunno."

   "No; no! I want to spend time with you, get to know you." 

   "Do you still want to go to the beach?"

   "Sure." I gestured for him to follow me as I began walking towards it. I felt his fingers intertwine with mine as he came closer.

   "I when I was in combat, I didn't know if I'd make it, sometimes, when I had to shoot people, I didn't know if I wanted to make it. Then I thought of you... You told me you'd never date me and I felt horrible. I wanted you to love me, or at least like my personality, and then I realised something. I was alright with not having a relationship; as long as I got to have my moments with you, have tiny memories and secrets that only we shared, I didn't care. I mean you could hate me after everything, for leaving for destroying what we had, but it would be okay, because I had those sentiments."

   "Ashe-"

   "Shh, it's fine. Do you remember the photo you took of yourself? The one where you surprised me Halloween night by lying in my dorm room with lace tights and garters and those feathers and combs in your hair? You had that heavy makeup and that smudgy stuff around your eyes, with red lip paint and long nails and stripper heels. When I walked in you where completely naked, only your were covering your... Lady areas with that silk fan?"

   "We're in public!" I exclaimed. "Don't remind me, please." I felt my cheeks flushing. I had been horridly unentertained  that afternoon, with my only class being an eight pm night one, so I decided to visit an eighteen and older Halloween couples shop. Needless to say, I bought myself a few role playing dress up items and a few less savoury unmentionables.

   "Sorry. I just wanted to say... That photo, you were the only woman... I, well, I haven't been with or seen... Forget it."

   "I get what you mean, it's fine."

   "For what it's worth, my bunk mates went through my possessions, found the photo and think you're an eight in it."

   "Is eight good?"

   "Well, ten is the highest on the shallow, vanity based, looks only scale and usually plastic surgery, hair dye, and over the top skimpy clothes are involved."

   "Ah." I replied, stepping onto the barren beach, not sure how to feel concerning the scale. I turned away, slipping out of my dress and sandals, as he slipped off his shirt, slipping into a life jacket that was lying on the sand, leaving his shorts on, thankfully. I was nervous about being in my underwear, if we both were I probably wouldn't be able to stay calm and pretend like this was a perfectly average thing to do, without telling your boyfriend. "A life jacket?" I questioned.

   "What can I say, safety is sexy, baby doll." I smiled, as I thought back to the Halloween party were he'd used that line to woo me.

   We both began wading into the chilly water, as my body reacted to the temperature, Asher kept stealing glances, before hurriedly looking away. 

   "Want to race me to the bobber?" He asked. I nodded, before plunging myself underneath the water to firmly douse myself, the. I popped back up and began paddling before he declared that it was go time. "Hey!" He exclaimed, teasingly upset. "No care, you cheated, plus you've got less clothes weighing you down."

   "What can I say? I make my own rules, occasionally."

   "That how you justify being cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater?"

   "Pumpkin eater?"

   "When you were a kid, didn't you have that rhyme?"

   "Nope." He was a quick swimmer; I received a head start, yet he was closer to the bobber. "Course I'm from the Virgin Islands, maybe the slang is different."

    "You're not American?"

   "I am a citizen, my dad was born and raised in the USA, I just grew up in a U.S. territory."

   "I win!" Sure enough, he was touching the bobber, he had beat me.

   "Well I," I said, while pushing water at him, so he was now thoroughly drenched, "was distracted by your chit chat."

   "Sure you were, had nothing to do with you being a slow swimmer." He shot back, pushing the water back towards me.

   "I'm," I splashed him, "not slow." I splashed him once more, just to emphasise my point.

   "You're pretty."

   "Thank you?"

   "You're welcome. You know, you don't have to act surprised or dubious, it's a fact. You're pretty."

   "I... Thank you." Was all I find myself able to say. If he was calling me pretty, I wonder what he'd call Marlo. Beautiful, probably. When she was healthy, she honestly was, but after her illness took over, she want herself. She'd changed and it scared me, thinking how all these people suffered, yet were able to go undetected. Her daughter would be seven, going into second grade as Anderson went into fifth, he was a bright ten year old who loved animals and the ocean and was probably going to work at the aquarium while studying to be a marine biologist. I wonder if she'd, whatever her name would be, would get along well with Uncle Andy. I wonder if my niece's father would have come fourth and taken responsibility for what he and Marlo did together.

   "You got quiet." Asher interrupted, ripping me out of my mind.

   "I was simply thinking."

   "You can be dangerous when you do that."

   "I suppose so..." I wanted to drift off to memory lane, continue remembering mom and daddy and Marlo. If I kept remembering, though, I'd probably start bawling. I loved LA and couldn't imagine not living here after only being a resident for seven years, yet sometimes I hit a phase where I wanted to fly to my hometown, visit the graves, with the old home, the ballet studio, everything from my childhood. If I ever have children, and I wanted to, so I suppose it was more of a when then if, I was going to take them to the local ballet studio, tell them how auntie loved it so, when they were older I'd tell them that she died for her potential career and how if they ever felt like they needed help or that something wasn't like they thought it should be like, they could tell me, we'd find help. They didn't need to be ashamed, they didn't need to suffer silently.

   I would take them to the boat dock next, rent a sailboat and pack a picnic basket, while telling them how granddaddy loved the water ad loved boating. Lastly, I'd teach them to value education over appearances and how you should always marry for love, not looks, which is how I felt about my mother and her apparent marriage to my father. I had a complicated relationship with my mother, she was far from perfect or even good, but towards the end she started trying harder and she tried making things right. I wasn't going to hail her as a saint just because she was gone, yet I wasn't going to bash her to smitherins, either.

   "You look upset." He murmured, coming closer, placing a hand on each of my shoulders.

   "I'm not..."

   "I hope you aren't. I just want you to be happy." I felt his arms embrace me, as my heart sped up.

   "You're a good hugger."

   "Thanks." He whispered in my ear, as I felt his lips begin to tickle my ear, slowly moving down my cheek to my lips. I wasn't sure what to do; if I said I wasn't enjoying it, I'd be lying. There was an odd passion, regret, despair, neediness, that's his kisses possessed that Xavier's didn't. I took my hands and placed them on his bulging biceps. He was so ripped, Xavier was fit, he was active, but not nearly to the extent that Asher was. I needed to stop comparing them, I loved Xavier now, but I use to lust for Asher, the circumstances where different, I couldn't compare an apple to a pineapple.

   "Asher." I mumbled, as I felt his hands creep lowers own my back.

   "What?" He abruptly stopped his lips, but his hands were still firmly attached to my lower back, feeling me up and down.

   "We were just swimming. I just wanted to go swimming... Why are you-?

   "Am I doing poorly?"

   "No, but, Asher, I thought I made myself clear. I don't want this anymore. I'm not that girl, I just want to let that part of my past sink away into my ocean of memories. I don't want to add another memory to that part of my life in the ocean."

   "But you seemed sad, whenever you were sad or stressed in the past, we... Phoebe, I don't know how to handle woman. I wish I did, but I don't, so I'm sorry. I was trying to be a good friend and comfort you, regardless of how misguided my attempts were, I want you to know that I care for you and will always try to make you feel better."

   "As a friend?"

   "I'll try my best. Being friends with someone as attractive as you-"

   "No!" I exclaimed, pulling away from him. "Asher, I'm happy, alright? I have a boyfriend, who I love very much and deserves to know that I am in love and lust with him and only him. You're making me feel guilty and confused and nostalgic and my emotions are so mixed concerning you, I'm not sure how to explain them. The point is," I took a large, deep breath, "I don't want whatever you have to offer. I use to love being around you, you made me feel a swirl of great things, but now those things are bad and I was finally happy. 

   I was diagnosed as someone who borderline the description of clinical depression after my parents and sister died, I felt guilty that I didn't have enough resources to provide for Anderson, I felt guilty that sometimes I just wanted to let loose and be a teenager, and I felt sad that I'd never get to meet my niece. Then, Delilah came and I was upset that I had to leave, guilty over being upset, then I felt horrid because I thought she might think I was abusing her kindness. When I met Xavier I thought he was too good to be true, when I went to college I felt guilty, my roommate confused me, and you were this tiny bit of wonderful who also confused me.

   When you left I wasn't sure how to feel, but after I went home for winter break, and everyone was excited that next May I'd graduate and told me how they were proud and I was strong, I felt happy. Not fleeting happy, not teeny tiny, short lasting moments of bliss or adrenaline, happiness. Because I had a family who supported me and loved me unconditionally, even if they were Delilah's friends. Anderson told me he thought I was a brave genius and mom and sissy and daddy would say that they thought so too, it made my heart almost melt. Then, Xavier told me how he found himself missing me and how he thought I was an intelligent, kind woman and how me being around made him happier and how that confused him, I was the step-child of his friend after all, I knew that I was finally in a good place and that after all my years of feeling bad as my primary emotion, I had good feelings as my primary emotions."

   "That's... That's certainly a monologue... But things are cleared up." He sighed. "Just tell me one thing, is the Xavier guy your boyfriend?" I nodded. "When did you start dating?"

   "Well, at home we decided mutually that I was a twenty-one year old college kid who needed to focus on finishing the last three semesters of college. On my twenty-third birthday, a year and half later, three and a half weeks after I'd graduated college with my bachelor's degree and had accepted a position at a design firm, he gave my a heart shaped necklace that was encrusted in emeralds and diamonds and pearls. He said the gems reminded him of my eyes. Everything sorta fell into place then, we started dating, we have been for two years, last year I got fed up with my job and Xavier got fed up with his so we both quit and opened up our own interior design firm together. He does the tech stuff, I decorate, we hired one of Delilah's friends to handle the money, Delilah creates custom sculptures for the clients and also uses her connections to help get the firm discounts on this we need. See, my life is good. I'm happy, Asher I want you to find someone who will give you a good life. A happy life. I wish I could, but..."

   I'm a goddamn idiot." He sighed. "Dammit, Pho. Dammit. I didn't need the monologue; I get that you're happy, I just thought maybe one last time som I don't know. I wanted to end things better. Leave with happier memories."

   "I'm sorry." I paled. I hadn't meant to go off on a tangent about how great my life was; I just felt so joyful living, I wanted to share my joy with everything, give them light. Obviously my efforts had the opposite effect. "Goodbyes... Goodbyes are overrated." I simply said, as I watched him swim away, melodramatically. I looked down at my simple cotton bra, blushing. Perhaps this idea wasn't one of my brightest; either way, what was done was done, I needed to stay positive. Xavier had something special planned tonight, why wallow in what could have been when I had true love not just lust?