There is so much that's clear in retrospect. First of all, he was my rebound. Problem is, if you don't know about that sort of thing, things can get out of hand. And they did. The stage was set the semester I was on and off again with the original boy, as I spent my off periods with Ross on his nightwatch shifts detailing exactly how stupid I had been and what I had learned about love. We shared coke out of shot glasses (because I was edgy like that), and Ross encouraged me to never go back to the asshole again.
The summer after our freshman year, I finally drew the last line with the first boy and Ross moved front and center. His opening move in this position was to lead me on an elaborate fantasy of a trip never taken over a series of e-mails that covered two weeks. The joke was on me as I took every word literally and then finally became the punchline. One would think that would raise a red flag, but I considered the fault all mine as usual.
The next semester was a debacle of shared midnights as I took the nightwatch job as well. Every shift was a voluntarily shared one for nearly four months. At some point in that sleepless time, we started ending our shifts by walking to nearby parks and cuddling as the sun came up. Arms and bodies, but never mouths or faces. As inexperienced as I was, I knew never to ask what this all meant as that was the quickest way to end the nice moments.
And that ended up being his job. We had clearly encouraged a disregard for boundaries both physically and verbally with frequent jousts of one-up-manship with innuendo. Well, on one of our dawn rendezvous, Ross suggested a masturbation contest. Who could come first. I wouldn't doubt that I started the whole thing, but I also ended it by saying I just wasn't ready for something physical like that. You know, considering my first boyfriend and all. And just like that, the weird and probably unhealthy intimacy was over. We walked back to campus in near silence and we did not share another nightwatch again.
That was near the end of the semester, and we already had new year's plans that involved Ross visiting me in Texas and then a group of us going to the Grand Canyon for the Y2K turnover. The awkwardness persisted as Ross maintained a distant and ironic tone across the 36 hour drive with three others in a small sedan. We drove straight through and then hiked to the river from the North Rim. That dumb story is for another time. Once at the river with our celebratory bonfire and cozy tents, Ross and I retreated for some time to one of the tents while the others ate canned chicken noodle soup around the fire. This was the last scene he touched me. And as he did so, he wondered aloud just what it was that made him want to do so. He just couldn't figure out what was so irresistible about the feel of my body against his. One would think this was the last red flag I needed. One would be hopelessly optimistic.
What it ended up taking was being replaced by Ms. Gustafson on his nightwatch shifts the following semester. I showed up to his first shift with a two-liter of coke for old times' sake and was greeted by her leaning over the desk in a conversational pose I recognized well. He had the grace to blush, but only slightly. I did not make a second attempt after that.
We had also been sharing weekly dinners, which continued in a horrid farce born out of habit. Finally, after a couple tasteless meals, Ross switched into present mode and said we needed to talk. About Gustafson. They were engaged. Things had been developing for some time, but he didn't want to hurt me was the thing. Again, I accepted the mantle of responsibility. I should have known, and I certainly should not have tried to insert myself the previous semester. Because that's apparently what I had done.
The end of the story is almost tawdry. My senior year, I roomed with the girl. Not strictly by my own choice, but still. Being so close to their wedding date, there were more than a few interrupted intimacies and I can still remember them all. I think the worst part is that I came to agree with Ross in all the unstated assessment of myself and this girl. She was simpler yet still sharp. She was beautiful and affectionate and did not need overbearing reassurance. And she loved him entirely. The choice made itself.
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