Giving No Thanks

I go from groggy to shocked in a split second. “Steeve! What are you doing here? How did you know where my parents live?”

He puffs out his chest and puts his fists on his hips. “I’m an officer of the law. I know these things.” He laughs nervously and shifts from side to side. I bite my tongue, pushing away the urge to tell him that campus security is not exactly the FBI. His breath comes out of his nose and mouth like smoke.

My mom comes up behind me, her chin on my shoulder. “Are you going to let him in, Marie?”

I waggle her chin off. “I’m not sure.”

My mom laughs. “Oh, what a sense of humor you have. Come on in, young man.”

He kind of salutes her as he steps inside. “Thanks, ma’am. I’m Steeve. Marie’s boyfriend.” He extends a hand.

What?!? What the hell is he doing? I haven’t spoken to him since bad sex night and we’re somehow a couple. Granted, it was pretty shitty of me to jet out and not speak to him after that night but for him to consider us a couple? Nope. Uh-uh. No way. “Um, yes, Mom. This is my friend, Steeve.” I emphasize friend, to make her understand that he said boyfriend meaning that he’s a boy and he’s my friend, in the same way that she calls all of my female friends my girlfriends.

Mom doesn’t catch on. She hugs my shoulder. “Marie! You keep your romances such secrets.”

I scoot her out of the kitchen while saying instead of asking, “Mom, will you excuse us please.”

“Of course,” she says over her shoulder. “You lovebirds kiss your hellos in private.” I wait until she’s out of earshot and then whirl around.

I stomp my foot. “What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.

“Marie. You left me the other night. You haven’t called me back.”

I nod furiously. “Yeah. That’s because you’re weird.”

He undulates up and down as he speaks. “I thought you liked quirky guys.” So he knows he’s weird. Interesting. Not interesting enough.

“Steeve, why do you hide your past from me? Why didn’t you tell me that you’ve been married?”

Steeve sweats. Steeve shifts uncomfortably. Steeve grabs my wrists. “I don’t want you to judge me, Marie.”

I draw away. “I don’t want to wind up headless in your photo albums.”

“You found my heads?” He asks as if that’s normal!

Now I start flailing. The Italian in me comes out. “And your wedding photos and the shredded articles. You’re a man of mystery.” I hear chatter in the living room. My mom must be waking everyone up with stories of my hunky boyfriend in the kitchen.

He waves his hands and shakes his head as if to make what I’m saying disappear. “I know. I know all that. Jeez, I love you.”

Oh, no. Not this. Not today. “No you don’t love me.” I back away.

He closes the gap. “Marie, you have to believe that I love you and you need to love me back. I don’t have much time. They’re onto me and we need to run away. The others don’t matter. I thought I loved them until now that I’ve found you and you’ve made me discover what love is. You are love, Marie. You’re it for me.” He’s breathing hard and his eyes are wide and glassy and wild. I don’t smell alcohol. He’s not drunk. Not high either. He’s just going crazy. Not mean crazy, the way Thomas was. Still crazy all the same. Maybe that’s my problem. I turn sane men mad. That’s a curse I’ll have to get reversed. First, I need to get Steeve out of my parents’ house.

He continues the madness. “Marie, come with me. Grab your coat and we’ll go. I’m all packed. I just need to get a few things from campus and then we’ll run. Like the wind. Like the horses.” Lots of giant arm movements are going on. Saliva, too. Lots of saliva.

I shake my head and take my normal Italian stance—one arm on a hip, the other bent at the elbow, my hand shaking at him with my fingertips closed and pointing. “What are you talking about? Who’s after you? What horses?” I am so confused right now. All I’m clear on is that Weirdo Steeve is the only Steeve there is and that he needs to leave.

“Everything okay in here?” Jeffery appears in the doorway, his tie loose, his top two buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, an open root beer in his hand because he thought it was rude to drink in front of my parents.

“Yes, it’s fine.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.

Steeve recognizes Jeffery. “Your TA is here? And you didn’t invite me?”

“I’m not her TA. I’m her lover. She’s not going anywhere with you.” Jeffery puts his drink down on a counter and plays with my hair, untucking it from my ear. He just said lover and I love it. What other twenty-year-old guy would use the word lover? Seriously.

I open my mouth to speak. Steeve beats me to it. “You have wild fantasies, boy.”

Jeffery pulls away from me, squaring himself in front of Steeve. “Boy? You think I can’t kick your ass?”

Tony appears from behind Jeffery. “Who’s kicking whose ass?”

“No one!” I put my foot down, literally stomping on the parquet floor. “Steeve, just leave. That’s best.”

He falls from anger to sadness instantly. He wimpers, “No. I love you. Idolize you. We need to run.”

I step back more. “Yeah, like the wind. I know. Just go do it by yourself.”

Jeffery puts his hand on my waist. “Yeah, by yourself, bud.”

Steeve revisits his angry place. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” He puffs out his chest. That’s usually a move reserved for mating by gorillas but hey, why not at this point.

Tony steps between them. “Dude. Quit it. It’s a holiday.”

Steeve angles his puffed chest towards Tony. “Fuck you, too.”

I fume. “That’s my brother, you dickhead!” Before I know what I’m doing, I pick up Jeffery’s root beer and shove it upside down into Steeve’s pants. A puddle forms on his khaki crotch.

Without flinching, Steeve says, “Oh, brother? So sorry. I’m Steeve.” He puts out a hand as if being civilized will get him anywhere now. The dark dampness grows down his leg.

Jeffery slaps Steeve’s hand. “Just go. She doesn’t like you.”

Steeve takes the bottle out of his pants. “Oh, she likes you?”

Jeffery crosses his arms. “Yes, she does.”

Steeve asks me, “Do you, Marie?”

The three men all direct their eyes down at me. They leer. Suddenly, I can’t breathe. “Just go,” I squeak out and run to lock myself in the bathroom. I hear scuffling and a faint yet distinct, “I adore her” fade into the distance.

Five minutes go by. A knock on the door. “What?” I call out from the toilet.

“It’s Jeffery.”

“Come in.”

He enters and sits on the edge of the tub. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Your family is worried. Your dad thought that since I know you so well I should come in and talk to you.”

“My dad catches on quick.”

“So you broke up with Steeve?”

I answer, “Yes. A short time ago.” I pause and then add, “It didn’t have anything to do with you, though.”

Jeffery sighs and laughs at the same time. “That’s somewhat hurtful.” He leans away from me, straightening his back. “And downright bitchy.”

“Sorry. I don’t know why I say things like that to you.”

He states matter-of-factly, “Because you’re scared and you push me away.”

Now I straighten up. “What?”

“You heard.”

“Yes, I heard. I was exclaiming in disbelief.”

“Don’t give me a lesson now, Marie, okay?”

My heart pounds and travels up into my throat. “I invited you here. How is that pushing you away?”

“I’m your TA? Come on! It’s so obvious to everyone except you that we belong together.”

“Oh, God, Jeffery,” I hide my face with a towel, “Please don’t tell me that we have to run like farm animals because I can’t handle more of this.”

“I’m not saying we have to run anywhere. I’m asking to be with you wherever you are.”

My stomach rumbles, wanting to expel the turkey and stuffing in any way it can. “You know that it won’t work.”

“Would you rather be with Willie?”

I smile. “No.”

“See?” He takes my hand. “I wasn’t lying to your dad when I told him I know what you like. I know your type. It’s me.”

“It’s almost you.”

“How so?”

“It’s you four years from now.”

“Age is just a number.”

“My paycheck isn’t.”

He laughs dryly. One of those brush off laughs. Not one of disbelief. One of finality. Defense. Annoyance. “So that’s it then.” He gives me back ownership of my hand and gets up from the tub. “You know, I didn’t figure it out until now. I know what the problem is.” He develops a swagger in his voice.

I wait for him to continue. I don’t move. I barely breathe.

“All along, I’ve been a novelty for you. I’m not just a student you’re dating. I’m a person, you know.”

It all hits me. He’s so right. I’ve been so . . . I don’t even know. “Yeah, I know.” It’s all I can say.

He nods. “Thanks for dinner. I’m going to go back to the house.”

I hold out an arm. “No, you can stay.” My protest is so weak that even I don’t believe it. “For dessert.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re searching for, Marie. I hope you find it. It’s not Willie Loser and it’s not Weirdo Steeve. Now it’s not me.” He clenches and unclenches his fingers. He lets out another one of those un-laughs. He says “bitch” under his breath. Louder, he says, “Good luck.” It doesn’t sound like he means it.

“Jeffery,” I say.

“See you in class. Pro-fess-or.” He says it as any jerk would say it, emphasizing each syllable to show what our relationship is now. Student and professor. He’s not the jerk in this case.

He leaves the bathroom. Closes the door. I hear him say good-bye to my family. To the oblivious Willie, too. I hear my parents urging him to come again soon. Hopefully, Tony explained to everyone what happened with Steeve. I don’t want to explain more than I have to. I need to leave this bathroom, but I feel trapped. Story of my life: caught in the crapper.