Sweet Talk by Cara Bastone
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Jessie?! Hi.”
“. . .”
“Jessie? Hi. Are you there?”
“You called me Jessie.”
“Right. Hi. Wow. I’m so glad you called.”
“I wasn’t sure you even knew my name.”
“Oh, God. I . . . well, I didn’t. I’m a total twerp, I know. But I forgot it because the night we met was so . . . awful. And then I was too embarrassed to ask again, because we’d been through so much together at that point and . . . oh, boy. This is not going how I wanted this conversation to go.”
“How did you want it to go?”
“I don’t know. God. I’ve had all this time to think about nothing but this moment and I still have no idea what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all, really. I’ve missed your voice.”
“So . . . you’ve completely stolen my likeness for your webcomic.”
“You read it? Eek. Sorry. I sound like I swallowed a bug. Let me try again. You read it?”
“I read it. And I’m going to sue you.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking. That’s okay. Go ahead and sue me. Let’s make it a really messy, protracted process. That way we can talk every day.”
“You don’t have a very strong self-protection instinct, you know.”
“Trust me—I know. That’s why I’m so grateful you were there that night. The night of the break-in. I knew you would kick ass for me, even if I couldn’t do it myself.”
“. . . I was glad I could be there, Eliot.”
“Jessie, I have to say something.”
“Okay.”
“That day on the street—”
“We don’t have to talk about that.”
“No. I really want to clear something up.”
“All right. Go ahead.”
“Well, turns out Frida Hawkins was there. She saw the whole thing.”
“Yeah. She was pumping me for gossip about it for a few days afterward.”
“Me too. Anyway. She came up to me right after you walked away and wanted to know what happened. She wanted to know why there was a look of horror on my face when I saw you.”
“Okay . . .”
“And I was confused because I didn’t know why my face would show horror when I wasn’t horrified. I was shocked, but not horrified.”
“You did look a little horrified to see me, Eliot.”
“Well, I thought about it more and I realized that maybe there was something like horror there, but not because you were you. But because you were you.”
“Oh. Got it. That completely clears everything up.”
“Let me explain! Okay, at that point I was pretty much thinking of JD as the coolest person I’d ever met. She was so calm and interesting in this unexpected way. She always knew what to say and always seemed interested in what I had to say. She was down to be silly with me and never made me feel stupid. To be perfectly honest . . . I had a major crush on JD. Like, a major one.”
“Eliot.”
“But, of course, there was a major roadblock.”
“The fact that you didn’t know who JD was.”
“Exactly. But I liked JD so much that that was starting to seem kind of, I don’t know, irrelevant? And then I saw you on the street and put the pieces together.”
“And you were horrified.”
“Yes and no. I was horrified because, here’s the thing—I also happened to think that you were pretty freaking cool. Jessie the superintendent, I mean. You might remember from our phone calls, but I actually mentioned you a few times.”
“Of course I remember. You were talking about me to me without knowing who I was.”
“Right, well, hopefully it didn’t pass your notice that I thought my super was competent and badass and—”
“Someone you were always making a fool of yourself in front of.”
“Exactly. Jessie, when you have a crush on someone, you don’t want to be a fool. You want to be, at the very least, able to screw a light bulb in properly. But I was so much less than that. I was the guy who couldn’t even defend his own home. I was the guy who’d cried on your couch in his underwear. Like five minutes after I’d first met you. Just the other day, you saw my friend do the limbo under my legs while I did the splits and nearly fell over.”
“Yeah, now that was special. That was the closest I came to telling you who I was. I just wanted to laugh with you so badly.”
“But that’s why there was horror on my face, I guess. Not because you were you and I was expecting something different. But because you were you and I was realizing that any chance I’d had at seeming, I don’t know, desirable to you was probably out the window. You’d seen me at my worst like fifty times already. I was standing there, just kind of watching everything go up in smoke.”
“Eliot . . . those things . . . aren’t things that would make me not like you. You’re expecting yourself to be this, like, über masculine dude. I don’t care if you don’t want to hit someone with a baseball bat. Actually, it’s really nice that you don’t want that. First of all, I can defend myself, and you, too, if it came to that. Second of all, men are expected to, like, lust after violence and that’s just toxic masculinity at its worst. You’re not bloodthirsty? That’s great, Eliot, and I’d never ask you to be. You’re a gentle person and honestly, that’s pretty much my favorite thing about you. As for the light bulbs and the mousetraps, well, these are things that I’m comfortable with. It’s my job, you know, to take care of stuff like that. I don’t care if those things aren’t on your radar. Having feelings for someone isn’t about expecting them to be . . . anything, really. It’s about knowing somebody. And liking them for who they are.”
“So—you—are you saying that—all that stuff—me—you—”
“Wow. Deep breath, buddy.”
“Are you saying that you have feelings for me?”
“Eliot—”
“Because let me just get this out in the open first, Jessie. I know I was shocked that you were you. But I need you to know that I am so unbelievably glad that you’re JD. And it took a minute to assimilate all the new information, but now I couldn’t picture anyone else being you. And I’m so into—”
“Eliot, wait. Just . . . wait.”
“Waiting.”
“. . .”
“I mean, I’m not waiting particularly patiently.”
“Okay. Look. There’s something I have to tell you. And if you make me go all squishy on the inside I might not be able to get through it. And if I hear you say that you have feelings for me, I might do the cowardly thing and just . . . Look, I have to tell you, so just listen, okay?”
“I’m listening.”
“Where are you right now?”
“I’m just unlocking my apartment door and heading inside.”
“Good. Because you should probably be sitting down for this.”
“Um. Okay. Just a sec . . . there. I’m sitting in my living room. Bombs away.”
“Okay. I’m just going to tear the Band-Aid off. The guy who robbed you? Well, unfortunately he’s my brother. His name is Jack. And yes, I knew it was him from the moment you gave your description to the cops. I didn’t say anything to you or the cops because, well, he’s my brother. And I was trying to protect his dumb ass. Not only because I love him and don’t want him to go to jail, but because—”
“Your dad is on his health insurance.”
“I . . . yes. Wow, you have really been paying attention to everything I’ve told you, huh?”
“Everything.”
“Okay . . . well. I had no idea what to do. Especially after you and I started talking on the phone and I realized just how much that night was screwing with you. All I wanted was to make you feel better. To get you some closure. To help you feel safe and secure. But I had no idea how to do that without telling you the truth. And . . . selfishly . . . well, I knew that as soon as you knew who my brother was that you wouldn’t—we couldn’t—that everything would just end. And it’s been a really hard year for me. Pops. Moving. Leaving my old job. Starting up here. My jerk brother. Pops. And talking to you made me happier than I’d been in such a long time. I just wanted it to last . . . a little longer. Like I said, it was selfish. I should never have let things go this far. Especially because I knew it was doomed from the beginning.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Which part?”
“The doomed thing. Your brother’s actions . . . why do you assume I’d hold you responsible for them?”
“I don’t mean that, exactly. I just mean, are you going to come over for Thanksgiving dinner and ask Jack to pass the mashed potatoes after he broke into your house and held a gun to your face and traumatized you?”
“You . . . were thinking about that already? Having me over to spend time with your family?”
“No! I mean . . . yes. But not like that!”
“I . . . don’t think I’ve ever heard you this flustered before. If it wasn’t like that then what was it like?”
“When you have a crush on someone you just kind of start to think about the future a little, you know? And all I’m saying is that I really didn’t think we could have a future together because of what Jack did. And because I covered for him.”
“. . .”
“Eliot? Are you still there?”
“I’m here. I just . . . wow. This is a lot.”
“I know. I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Your brother . . . does he do this a lot?”
“No. He’s done some stupid shit before. But never anything like this. I’m not making excuses for him, but I think he was stressed about money and Pops and yeah, there’s no excuse. I’m going to stop talking now.”
“Does he carry that gun around with him?”
“No. And he says it wasn’t loaded if that’s any consolation.”
“. . .”
“Eliot?”
“He’s gonna get himself killed if he keeps doing things that stupid. What if I’d had a gun? A loaded one?”
“I know. It makes me sick to think about it.”
“You said that he’s had some substance abuse problems in the past?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you talked to him about rehab?”
“I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Now would probably be a good time. If this isn’t rock-bottom for him, well, do you really want to see how much farther down it goes?”
“No. You’re right. I just . . . with everything with Pops and this new job, it just sort of . . . I don’t know how to go about even having that conversation with him.”
“You’ve had to do everything on your own, Jessie. Take care of your dad. Your brother. All the tenants.”
“It’s still no excuse. Not when Jack needs so much more help and I can’t give it to him.”
“You’re not failing. I can hear in your voice that you think you are. But you’re not. You’ve got too much on your plate. Let me help, Jess. I’ll help.”
“. . .”
“Are you there?”
“What are you even saying right now? I just told you that Jack is the one who . . . and you’re offering to help me?”
“Look, I’m not saying that I want to see him right now. Or that he and I will ever be buddies. But it’s not like . . . even if he were a complete stranger, I’d want to make sure that he got the help he needed. Breaking into someone’s home with a weapon, it’s a pretty desperate move. Someone who has all their needs met, they’re not likely going to do that.”
“You’re not going to call the cops on him?”
“Jessie . . . God. No. I want him to get better. To get the help he needs. And he’s not going to find that in the criminal justice system. We both know that. The only reason I wanted to get the cops involved in the first place was because I didn’t want him to do that to other people. And what other option did I really have? But if you’re telling me there are other options . . . if there are other ways to make sure he doesn’t do something like this again, then, yeah, I’d rather not get the cops involved.”
“Eliot.”
“Are you crying? Oh, crap. I didn’t mean to make you cry. What kind of crying is this? Sad crying? Happy crying? Relieved crying?”
“Why aren’t you judging me? You should be judging me and blocking my phone number.”
“I fear I haven’t been clear enough about how I feel about you. Do you need to read the webcomic again? I’ll wait.”
“The webcomic.”
“No! Crap! I didn’t mean to make you cry more! Forget I said anything about that.”
“Eliot, maybe I am going to need you to be really clear here.”
“Clear about which part?”
“You’re making it seem like you’re . . . going to be by my side. And if you’re not, I kind of need to know right now because . . .”
“I’m not going to let you do all of this alone, Jess. I mean, you get to decide how much you want to share with me. But I’m in. I’ll help with anything. Everything. I’ve learned how to be very organized in my life. We can take it step by step. We’ll make a plan for how to help Jack. Step one is probably some sort of substance abuse counselor? Or a therapist? I don’t know really. We’ll have to research it and figure out what steps to take.”
“Stop talking.”
“What?”
“Just . . . shhhhh.”
“Can I ask a question?”
“I . . . sure.”
“Is that the whole problem? The reason why you didn’t want me to know who you are? There’s nothing else?”
“It’s a pretty freaking big problem, Eliot.”
“Sure. Of course. I’m just wondering if there is anything else I need to know.”
“That’s the whole thing. Other than the fact that I was pretty sure I would scare the pretty-boy pants off of you once you found out who I was. But I figured that if you couldn’t handle it then you weren’t worth the heartache probably.”
“Hold on. Back up. Why would you scare my pretty-boy pants off? And, wait. Are you calling me a pretty-boy or saying that I wear pretty-boy pants?”
“Both? I’ve seen your work outfits. You wear, like, khakis. And suits and stuff.”
“Okay. Noted. We’ve already been over the fact that you’re cooler than I am. But why would you think you’d scare me?”
“The tats? The piercings? The combat boots? I guess I just assumed I wasn’t your usual style.”
“Hmm. Jess, any chance that you’ve looked at the comments for the most recent episode of the webcomic?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Well, most of them are about the new character.”
“The one I’m suing you over?”
“Yup. That one.”
“What do the comments say?”
“Mmm. I believe the most common word used is ‘snacc’ with two cs.”
“Um.”
“Yeah. There’s a lot of tongue-out emojis and people begging the character to step on them.”
“The internet is such a stupid place.”
“Agreed. But I’m just saying, you think you’re not my style? I’m under the suspicion that you kind of might be everybody’s style, if the comments section is any indicator.”
“You really see me like that? The way you drew me?”
“That’s the way you are. Exactly.”
“Eliot, the character shoots a nail gun and fights three different dudes at once.”
“Okay, so I might have inflated your combat skills a little.”
“And her cheekbones look like they could poke somebody’s eye out.”
“I told you you have a fierce face.”
“I think you might be seeing me through rose-colored glasses.”
“You told me I’m a pretty-boy so I’m willing to bet there are two pairs of glasses involved.”
“Do you think the issue is that we’re seeing each other inaccurately? Or that we each see ourselves inaccurately?”
“Mmm. Good question. Maybe one of the best parts of starting something up with someone is you get to see all your yummy parts through their eyes. Like, I legitimately have been thinking that I was a total loser for how I reacted to the break-in. But then you just described it as me being a gentle person. And . . . that doesn’t sound so bad. I don’t mind being a gentle person. But it literally didn’t occur to me to think of it that way until you mentioned it.”
“So, maybe it’s my job to make sure you see yourself through my eyes?”
“And vice versa. We’ll be each other’s selfie stick. Metaphorically.”
“That doesn’t make sense but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide . . . oh, my God.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I just . . . I’m overwhelmed. I said goodbye to you in my head like fifty times since that day on the street. I never thought . . .”
“I didn’t think so either, Jess. I thought you were long gone. I think it’s probably obvious, but I’m so, so glad you’re not gone.”
“I’m definitely not gone.”
“So, can I, like, say hi to you in the halls and stuff?”
“No way, loser. I can’t be seen with a prep like you.”
“Ah. Got it. I totally understand. I need to pull a Sandy from Grease. Maybe I’ll get a tongue piercing and a leather jacket. Would that help?”
“Frida Hawkins would have a coronary.”
“I think she’s gonna have a coronary anyhow when she finds out we’re dating.”
“We’re not dating.”
“What? Are you kidding me? I basically just pledged my undying devotion to you.”
“Yeah, but we’ve never been on a date. Thus, we’re not dating yet.”
“Ah. I see. Well, get your shoes on. I’m grabbing my coat. I’ll be downstairs in thirty seconds.”
“. . .”
“Wait, someone is knocking on my door. Oh, jeez. JD, is that you?”
“Come and see.”
“Holy smokes. I can see you through the peephole.”
“I’ll give you two hundred points right now if you let me in.”
“Two hundred?! This is . . . wow. Give me a second to get my blood pressure under control.”
“You were just talking such a big game about picking me up for a date, and now you’re too scared to open the door?”
“At some point you’ll learn I’m like 80 percent bluster.”
“At some point you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that you’re a lot braver than you think you are, Eliot.”
“Here you are. JD in the flesh.”
“Here I am.”
“Come in.”