Fifteen years later, the happiest I’ve ever seen them is now, when they’re in love with women who understand them.
She understands you.
She helped you when no one else could.
She got you to make a fucking fist, when you thought it was the hardest thing to do in the world.
I sit up, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
She’s leaving, she wrote it twice just to make sure I knew.
Why did she send me that song, WHY? Why did she write it for me?
It’s time to make a choice, the same choice that always comes up in life.
Fight or flight.
Fight or flight?
“Come on!” I say out loud, not caring that they all turn to me, staring. “Fight or flight, fucker?”
Fight.
Always fight.
I slide out of bed and ignore everyone shouting at me as I run down the hall way to her room. I pull the door open and she’s standing there, looking at the window, her hand up around her neck.
I walk straight to her, as she spins around and looks at me, her eyes wide, waiting for me to say something.
“It’s time to make a choice,” I say.
“What are you talking about?”
“Me or him, Noemie.” Fight or flight? She stares at me, her mouth falling open. So I say it one last time. “Make the choice. Me or him.”
NOEMIE
“Me or him,” he repeats.
Like he needs to, as if it’s a choice.
Him. Of course him. But it’s not as easy as that, I open my mouth to tell him.
But it’s too late.
“What’s going on?” Chris is at the door, another gawdy bunch of flowers in his hand.
Jez walks toward him before I can stop him.
“I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean to do this but… this is between me and Noemie.” He turns back to me, his eyes bright, but he’s smiling. He knows it’s him. Of course it’s him.
“Chris,” I say, looking past Jez. One thing at a time. I need to do this properly.
“What’s going on Noemie?” He moves to me, and I have to remind myself who he is, and to be kind.
“I’m sorry, Chris.”
“Sorry for what? Come on, let’s get you ready to go.”
“Me or him, Noemie,” Jez repeats.
“What is this dickhead on about?”
“I’m asking her to choose, man,” Jez cuts in. “You or me.”
“Jez. No.” I shake my head.
Chris look to me, then Jez then back again. A look of incredulousness on his face. “Wait. You’re not seriously saying that you’re going to choose him.”
“I’m really sorry, Chris,” I say.
“This is total horse shit. You’re my girlfriend! Mine!” He says it like he owns me. And not for the first time I can’t figure out how I could have ever been with him. I guess that’s for past Noemie to know.
“Is she? She doesn’t even remember who you are, does she?” Jez asks him
“Does she remember who you are?” Chris spits back at him, his face slipping into an ugly mask.
Jez shakes his head and shrugs. “No, it appears she doesn’t. So, then it seems to me you and I are in the same boat. And she’s the only one who can choose. Noemie, who are you going to choose?” He grins, and I want to pinch him for being so cocky. And right.
“Chris, look, I’m sorry.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” He looks me up and down, contempt in his eyes. I feel dirty just standing near him.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I force myself to reach out to him. To know I never meant it to turn out like this.
“You little bitch.” He spits at me. “I know who he is. You’re just being a little gold digger. First freeloading off Paige, and now this loser.”
I’ve barely processed what he’s said when I feel Jez move, rushing towards him, his hand in a fist pulling back as if to punch him.
“Jez, no!” I pull back on his arm, holding as tight as I can.
He stops, but his face is red, his eyes hard, angry. Chris just looks right back at him, his eyes unreadable, slippery, grey.
“Fuck it. You’re not worth it.” Jez spins around to face me. “Let’s go, Noemie.”
“Go?” I repeat, and I can’t think of anything more I want than to leave with him.
“Right now. Let’s go, grab your things and come with me right now.” He looks even more alive than when he finally could hold a pen that day in PT.
“You’re not fucking serious,” Chris hisses. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“What do you care?” Jez says, not bothering to look at him.
Chris snickers, “I don’t. Good luck to you. She’s going to make you regret it,” he says as he throws the flowers onto the bed and storms out of the room, taking his noxious aftershave with him. I can’t think about him now. Hopefully I never will again.
“You ready?” Jez asks me, and all I can do is nod and grim. He grabs my hand and moves toward the door.
“Wait.” He stops and let’s go of my hand. And my heart sinks.
He’s changed his mind, already. I’m too much work. I watch as he walks over to my bed and picks up my ukulele and tucks it under his arm as he takes my hand in his again.
“Can’t leave that.”
I grin at him so big I must look like an absolute fool.