Jade|
I thought things would be awkward on the Monday morning after the trip (date?) to the museum, but Tori has an uncanny ability at smoothing things over. She greeted me with the same cheeriness as always. There were new developments, though, that were so subtle I hardly noticed them at first – her fingers balancing on my wrist when we stood beside each other, her grinning at me as she fixed supposedly 'stray strands' of my hair, holding out pieces of her lunch for me to take a bite out of – it took me nearly a week of these small, minute details to realize what she was doing.
She was letting me know that she's not losing interest, that she's willing to wait for me.
At first, the realization was comforting, a warm coal in my chest. It's reassuring to know that Tori takes me and all of the baggage that comes tied to my person. At the same time, though, it's terrifying, and I found myself declining offers to hang out after school, to spend the night at her house the weekend following the visit to The Human Body. It's not that I don't want to be around her – it's exactly for that reason. I'm slowly becoming aware of the gravity of my situation. Recently broken up, pouring my trust and faith into a person I didn't even really like up until recently, allowing that person to know such private and intimate and guarded parts of me. My parents, the robbery, my collections, less significant details like my favorite scents and jewelry and musicians – all of these things that I have kept from other people that I am so carelessly tossing into Tori's hands is starting to get to me. What if I'm moving too quickly? What if I really am using Tori as a rebound?
The idea makes me sick. I like Tori. I really like Tori, and I don't want her to be the closest, nicest person that I could take advantage of, but what kind of person was I before Beck broke up with me? Exactlythe kind that would, if it was convenient, take advantage of people. More than once I used Tori to benefit myself. I got her to find a source of money for the play I put on last year. When my car was getting fixed, I would simply drop myself into hers, silently forcing her to take me home. I guilt tripped her into fixing things between Beck and I when we broke up (for a whopping two days) – and she wasn't the only one I used. Robbie, Andre, Cat, even Trina a few times – I didn't discriminate. If I could use them, and I felt like it, I never felt bad about it.
But I don't want to use Tori and it's frustrating beyond what I can bear to know that I can't even tell the difference anymore. I don't know if I'm using Tori to make myself feel better, to get me through the break up because I can't admit that I'm too weak to handle it by myself.
I test the theory as much as I can. I won't be the first to text her. I'll go a whole Saturday afternoon without a call. Sometimes I get the idea that she's doing the same thing, or at least trying to prove that she's willing to give me as much space as I decide I need. But the more I try and tell myself that I don't need or want to talk to her every day, the more evidence there is that it's true. By Saturday evenings, I'm calling her and spending a couple of hours talking and laughing. Sundays turn into days reserved for one another. The Sunday after The Human Body, Tori packs a picnic basket – I didn't even now those things were actually sold – and we sit atop a hill at a park not too far from her house. We were there for hours, until the sun dipped into the pale pink sky, taking pictures with our phones. The next week we see a movie and eat at a pizza parlor. And all the while there's this persistent battle in me, this vicious tug of war that I'm playing with myself. I need her. I don't need her. She's just my friend. She's definitely not just my friend. We're not dating. We're dating.
Those two weeks are filled with restless, sleepless nights. What I notice, though, is that Tori seems to be struggling just as much as I am. She looks tired and worn out, like she's fighting, too. And while we do make teasing remarks toward one another – wow, West, you must really like me if you're going to hug me that long – we don't talk about it directly. I know I don't know how, but I'm not sure about her. I just think she doesn't want to scare me away with any pushing.
