Amy Inspired - Bethany Pierce [85]
He smelled of incense, of paint.
I pointed out that he’d invited all of Copenhagen.
“Yeah, well, you know Kevin; he has a way of drawing a crowd.”
He winked. Kevin was the shyest man I knew.
As the film began, he leaned in to explain the plot, his head bowed toward mine, even when the rising volume of the room made whispering unnecessary. Ten minutes into the screening everyone was talking as if the film wasn’t playing at all. Two students from Kevin’s sculpture class came to sit with us. Reluctantly, I moved from the couch to a folding chair to make room for Art Major Number One, who asked if I had seen other work by the director. I said no. Did I like French films? I didn’t speak French, I replied shortly. Art Major Number Two was a young woman, tall, with the legs of a Versace model. Her bony knees knocked against Eli’s. She was doing an imitation of one of her professors, one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating wildly. Eli laughed. They talked half an hour before he thought to introduce me.
He introduced me as the friend of a friend.
“Nice to meet you,” Art Major Number Two said. I reached to shake her hand, but she only raised herself ever so slightly off her chair, forcing me to stand and cover the distance between us. Since I’d already abandoned the couch to conduct this little greeting, I announced I would be back and escaped to the stairwell.
Eli found me digging for my coat on the pile that had collected by the door.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“I have class tomorrow,” I said.
“Let me give you a ride.”
“I’d rather walk,” I replied.
He followed me down the stairs. “Amy, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Something’s wrong.” He opened the door for me. “If I did something to offend you, tell me. I want to know.”
I turned to face him. “I’d like to know why you go out of your way to invite me over only to spend the entire night ignoring me.”
“I sat right beside you.”
“And proceeded to talk to everyone else.” I tried to walk away, but still he followed. “You introduced me like you don’t even know me.”
“I introduced you as a friend,” he said, his tone defensive. “I thought that’s what you wanted: friendship. I’m having a friendship with you.”
“We had our friendship, Eli, and it was perfect the way it was. Why did you have to ruin it?”
He didn’t respond immediately. “You said what we did was a mistake,” he said slowly. “That our friendship was important and that it was best I leave so we could keep it. That I hadn’t hurt you.”
It pained me to hear all the things I’d said.
“I left,” he said. “I waited, and I figured it had been long enough maybe we were over the whole thing.” He shuffled along to catch up with me. “Will you slow down?”
“Well I’m sorry, but two weeks isn’t long enough for me to just ‘get over things.’ ”
He was baffled. “It never once occurred to me that you felt anything more for me. You never let on that you wanted anything else.”
“Why would I? You’re with Jillian, Eli. You’re taken.”
“That’s not working and you know that as well as I do. Amy! Would you please slow down?”
We had reached the corner of the downtown park. I walked to the bus station and sat obediently on the nearest bench.
“Thank you,” he said in exasperation. He remained standing.
The park fountains played to our left. A tower of water shot into the air, then twirled as it fell, a pirouette of liquid beads dissolving. Just as the first fell, a second jet of water shot up a foot from the first, swirled in the air, folded in on itself. On they went, one firing off as the other fell in the orderly succession of a Rockette kick line.
“I got the print you sent,” I said quietly. “I really appreciated it.”
“I’m glad.” He didn’t sound glad at all.
“What do you want, Eli?”
“I thought that was obvious.” He joined me on the bench. “Do you really think I slept on that futon because there wasn’t another bed in town that might be more comfortable? Because I couldn’t afford my own place?”
“Then why didn’t you leave?”
“Amy, I didn’t think anything would happen. I always thought you generally disapproved