wanted to be in.
Part of me wasn't surprised when I turned the corner of
the hal to see Austin waiting for me in front of my door.
Another part wanted to turn and run away. I lifted my chin
instead, wishing again I'd at least bothered to wear
makeup, though honestly he'd seen me look way worse.
"What are you doing here?" I bent to put my bags down
so I could pul my key from my purse. When I stood,
so I could pul my key from my purse. When I stood,
Austin's eyes were on my face, not my ass. Now, that
surprised me.
"You didn't answer my cals."
I fit the key into the lock, but didn't turn it right away. "I
meant, what are you doing here? "
"I caled your mom."
I unlocked and opened my door and pushed it, but didn't
go through. I turned to look at him. My irritation must have
been clear on my face, because he held up his hands right
away as though I meant to punch him. "My mother told
you where I lived?"
"Your mom always liked me."
I blew a sigh that fluttered the fringe of my bangs off my
forehead and then pushed through the door. I left it open
behind me, as much of an invitation as I could bear to give.
He folowed and shut the door. Softly, with a click, not a
slam.
I put my bags in the kitchen and kicked off my shoes.
Austin stood stil and watched me without making any
Austin stood stil and watched me without making any
move to sit. He looked around the apartment with interest,
then shoved his hands deep into his pockets and rocked
on his heels while I took my time unpacking and putting
away my groceries.
"Can I sit down?" he asked finaly, when I'd made it clear I wasn't going to offer.
"Do you have to ask?" I kept my back turned as I sifted
through the change from my walet. I found a Wheatie
penny and set it aside to put in my colection, then washed
my hands thoroughly with soap and hot water. Money is
one of the filthiest things a person can touch.
When I turned to look at him, he was stil standing. We
stared at each other across the expanse of my unimmense
living room until I nodded. He sat the way he always had,
legs sprawled, taking up as much space as he could.
I took my time cleaning the kitchen, wiping the counters
and scrubbing the sink with bleach-infused powder. I even
emptied the garbage pail and took the trash out to the
chute at the end of the hal. I expected Austin to be
restless or irritated by the time I came back, but he'd
found a copy of a Robert Heinlein novel inside the pile of
found a copy of a Robert Heinlein novel inside the pile of
books and magazines thrown into the straw basket next to
the couch and was flipping through it.
"It doesn't have any pictures," I said from the doorway.
Austin put the book on the coffee table. "This is nice."
He hadn't risen to the bait, though I'd made a point of
pushing one of his buttons. "The book?"
"The coffee table," he said, stil not rising.
"It was Stela's."
Austin nodded, like that made sense. "Glad I didn't put my
feet up on it."
It took me an actual five seconds before I realized he was
trying to tease me without pissing me off. He was actualy
just…kidding. I knew how to handle him trying to seduce
me or piss me off. I didn't know how to take that.
"I miss you," Austin said.
The words were hard to hear, and I don't mean because
he spoke too low, or mumbled. They were hard for me to
he spoke too low, or mumbled. They were hard for me to
listen to because I didn't know what to say. I didn't want
him to miss me.
I sat across from him, instead. The recliner's springs
sometimes poked through the faded material, though I'd
tossed a fleece throw over it. One did now, and I winced
as I shifted.
"I do," he said, as though my expression had been in
response to his statement and not a coil of wire in my butt.
"Austin." Nothing else would come out.
He shrugged. I hadn't falen in love with him because of his
way with words. Back then it hadn't mattered if he spoke
more with his hands than his mouth. Back then we'd both
been young and dumb.
"You look good, Paige. This place," he gestured, "it's nice."
"Thanks."
His hair used to be bleached almost white by the sun, and
he wore it so short I could see his scalp. When I ran my
fingers through it, my nails scraped skin. Now it fel
fingers through it, my nails scraped skin. Now it fel
forward over his ears and forehead and was the color of
wheat in a field, waiting to be cut. His eyes, moving over
my face, made me think he was waiting to be cut, too.
I almost couldn't do it. I mean, the night before I'd let him
put his tongue down my throat and his hands al over me.
When the warmth of him wafted over me, I wanted to
close my eyes at how familiar it was. How easy it would
have been to take him by the hand and lead him to my
bedroom.
I kept my eyes open, a lesson I'd been taught a long time
ago but had taken me a long time to learn. "I don't miss
you, Austin. Last night was a mistake."
"C'mon, Paige. Don't say that. We were always good
together."
"We haven't been together for a long time," I said, not
quite as evenly as I wanted.
"It's not just the sex." Austin leaned forward, too, his
hands on the knees of his dirty denim jeans. A white spot
had worn through just below his kneecap, not quite a hole,
but on its way to becoming one. "I didn't just mean that. I
but on its way to becoming one. "I didn't just mean that. I
can get laid anytime I want."
"I'm sure you can." I got up, my arms folded across my
chest.
He got up, too. "I didn't mean it that way."
I wasn't going to bend. Not over the chair, not over the
bed, and not over this. "It doesn't matter how you meant it.
I think you should go."
"Same old Paige," he said with a shake of his hair. "Stil hard as nails, huh? Hard as a rock. Can't ever give me a
break."
"You don't need a break from me. Besides, you can just
get laid whenever you want. Look, Austin," I said when it
looked as though he meant to speak. "We can't keep
doing this."
"Why not?"
I studied him deliberately until I couldn't hold in the sigh
any longer and it seeped out of me like air from a nail-
punched tire. "You know why not. Because fucking
doesn't solve every problem. And we had a lot of
doesn't solve every problem. And we had a lot of
problems."
He crossed his arms and looked stormy. I didn't point out
the arguments we'd had about money, about religion,
about monogamy. I didn't remind him of the nights he'd
gone out for a few beers with friends and had come home
smeling of perfume and guilt, or that it didn't matter
whether he had or hadn't fucked anyone else, it was that
he was content to choose a night with his buddies over
staying home with me. I didn't bring up the times I'd said I
was studying for school when I was realy someplace else,
with someone else.
"I just want you to be happy, Austin." I meant it.
He leaned back and frowned more fiercely. "You want me
to be happy so you can feel better about yourself, that's
al. So you don't feel so bad about what happened."
The truth of that stung me like a wasp, smooth-stingered
and able to jab more than once. "I think you should go."
Damn him, he didn't. He moved closer and cupped my
elbows in his palms so I had to uncross my arms to push
him away or let him snuggle up close. I put my hands on