Building Friction (Part 37)

Geoff was nuzzling at my neck and trying to work a hand under my shirt as we sat on my couch. It was Tuesday and he'd called asking to see if I wanted to get something to eat. We hadn't really talked in a week, other than his e-mail asking me how my meeting had gone with Nelson. I wasn't purposefully ignoring him like I had been doing with Matt, and Geoff wasn't the type to care. He knew the basics and waited the unspoken amount of time before calling me.

"Did you hear me?" I asked. His mouth felt incredible as it kissed a trail down from my ear and onto my shoulder that he was baring by pulling at my sleeve with his free hand.

"He told you to hit the road, mmm hmmm," he murmured against my skin, sparking a shiver that ran down my side and exploded at my hip. I wriggled away from him.

"It was too easy," I continued. "I keep feeling like there should have been more to it than that."

Geoff sat back and heaved an exasperated sigh. "Look Chloe, I know how you like to relive everything that happens to you in your little articles, but does that mean that I have to hear all the details? Because I seriously don't give a shit about this."

I scrunched my brow and shot him a dirty look. Just as quickly, I relaxed and softened my expression. "You're right," I said.

"I'm always right," he responded, diving back down on me. This time his hand easily found its way up the front of my shirt and started to caress my right breast. My nipple stiffened at his touch.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Funny, because you sure say a whole hell of a lot of other things, so why not that?"

"Fucker!" I exclaimed before he clamped his mouth down on mine and speared his tongue between my lips. Our tongues intertwined. He tasted like cigarettes and coffee. I started to lay back on the couch when he suddenly pulled back.

"Can we take this into the bedroom?" he asked, darting his eyes near Zoe and then in the direction of the hallway.

"You don't want her to get a good show?" I asked coyly.

Geoff's mouth puckered and moved to the side, creating a dimple in one cheek. "Yeah, I'm not going to deal with this verbal disobedience," he said. Swiftly, he was up on his feet, holding onto one of my wrists as he stood. He yanked my body up, crouched down, then threw me over his shoulder. His shoulder dug into my stomach when I tried to fight, so I let my body go limp and allowed him to carry me to the bedroom.

Once inside, he closed the bedroom door. "Oh, come on!" I protested. "It's not like the snake is going to get you if you don't close the door!"

"You hush!" he snapped. "I had to listen to all your belly-aching about Pet Store Boy. I shall do whatever I want with the fucking door, whether that's closing it, leaving it open or walking the fuck out of it."

He was yanking at his tie, loosening it from his neck. Once he had it slipped off, he placed the ring around my neck and closed it tightly and to the side. He pulled me to my knees with a jerk of his hand.

"Hey!" I gasped. But one look in his eyes proved that this was a game. He was loosening his pants with his left hand and holding me in place with the tie in his right. Once his pants fell from his hips, his cock sprang forth in front of me.

"You know what to do," he addressed me.

I batted my eyes up at him. Indeed, I did. I leaned forward and got started with proving it.


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I slunk out of the room once I heard his snoring begin and padded quietly to my living room, flipping on my computer monitor. The sex was quick and intense, several bouts in a tightly packed amount of time. Geoff didn't have Matt's staying power, but his turn-around was astounding. We read each other's desires without speaking, eliminating any need for instruction. It was a first for me, and my head couldn't wrap around the implausibility of it.

I settled into my computer chair, giggling at the feel of the leather against my naked skin. Opening up my unfinished manuscript, I began in on my book again. I had put it aside when things got comfortable with Matt, but after so many changes had occurred, the time was ripe for picking it up again.

I pecked at the keyboard like a madwoman, whipping out pages of prose in record time. More than two hours had passed when Geoff stumbled out of the bedroom, tugging sleepily at his belt.

"What are you writing?" he mumbled, then plopped onto the couch and started putting on his shoes.

I went to save the document and minimize the screen, then turned in his direction. "Just something that I've been working on. Possibly a book. Nelson said that he wanted to see a finished product as soon as I could get him one."

Geoff straightened in a sitting position and then rose and made his way over to me. I stood. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the tip of my nose. "And a healthy dose of my deep dicking got you so inspired you couldn't wait until I was gone to start up on it again?"

I pouted. "Yeah, that must have been it. My mind got fucked into thinking in a straight line. Yup." I nodded slowly.

"Well, I don't know how much more you'll get finished with me gone, but you're going to have to manage somehow." He kissed my forehead, fished his car keys out of his pocket and moved to the front door. "I'll catch up with you again soon."

"Sean's got a show at the Good Bar tomorrow night," I suggested.

Geoff turned as his hand was on the doorknob and frowned. "That guy who sings those stupid parodies? I think I'll pass. Seeing him once was enough." He shot me a weak smile. "We'll figure something out."

As the door closed behind him, an icy air crawled over my skin. Sure, Sean's act was an acquired taste and he had his share of people who didn't get his sense of humor, but to hear it from Geoff in such a throw-away manner stung me.

A guy who couldn't like my friends wasn't a guy that I could see myself with. I sank slowly down into my chair again and maximized my document screen. The cursor flashed mockingly at me. After 15 minutes of staring at the screen, I closed the program and went to crawl back into bed.

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"Please, for the love of all that is great and good, DO NOT let Sean hear you say that," Steph hissed.

I was relating what Geoff had said to me the night before. Steph pulled me low to the table and issued her warning, then glanced around as if our table was about to be bombed by some unseen enemy. "And don't tell Cara. I love that woman, but once she starts drinking, she won't be able to keep that info in."

I nodded. My stomach had been twisting all day. "My question is this though: Do you really think that he meant something negative by it?"

"Gee, Chloe. He doesn't like your friend's music and refused to come even if you were going to be here. What the fuck do YOU think that means?" Steph chugged back half the beer in her mug before setting her head right again.

"You know me. I read too much into things sometimes. Perhaps he was just saying that he wasn't into the music, not anything about Sean as a person." I sighed. "I need a smoke."

"Fucking non-smokers!" Steph wailed. Several heads glanced in her direction. "You heard me. I've got to get my ass up and go outside to smoke. That's RUDE of you. I don't insist that you get your ass up and go outside to NOT smoke, do I?" Grumbling and befuddled expressions greeted her complaint.

I grabbed at her elbow and angled her toward the front door. "See how considerate we are?" She hissed at the table nearest to the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you right now?" I asked once we were outside.

Steph shrugged and lit a smoke and then held out her still flaming lighter to light mine. "Dunno. Just feeling confrontational, I guess. I haven't even had all that much to drink yet."

"I'm beginning to feel like you're turning into me," I remarked.

"Well, someone's got to be you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You just haven't been one ounce of the Chloe that I love since you met Geoff." Steph was glancing down the far end of the street and not looking at me. "You're so ornery and feisty when you're single. You speak up, you're the first person to have an opinion on anything. You're the one that everyone else comes to when they want to hear a snap-judgment, know-it-all response."

She took another big drag and then exhaled slowly. I waited for her to finish. "And I'm always trying to set you up with someone because when you're single, as much as I love your mouthiness, I also want you to be at peace. I keep thinking that if you have someone to talk to, to go places with and an outlet for your sexual energy, you'd be happier. That it will one day balance out.

"But so far it hasn't. It's either hot or cold with you. You're intense and funny and smart but bitter and angry. It's that or you're happy and smiling and enjoying yourself but lose your ability to make your own decisions. You're not the one who is supposed to turn all dependent on someone else. You're the fucking BADASS, Chloe! Not the 'What do you think he meant by that, Steph?' Chloe. You're not that girl. You can't be."

I glared at her, the cigarette in my hand poised in the air, halfway to my mouth. I dropped it then, pressed my fists to the sides of my head and screamed.

The scream was guttural, raging from deep inside of me. Steph jumped back a foot and the patrons inside of the bar rushed to the door to figure out who was screaming. Sean and Cara pushed past them and outside, recognizing my voice when they heard it.

"I'm not this! I'm not that!" I started screaming. "I'm nothing! I'm not even fucking Chloe, I'm just some vessel that everyone can dump all of their shit into and steer around like one of those boats by the lake. Give me a quarter!" I extended a hand to Sean, clutching my fingers.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Give me a quarter!! You want to have something to say about what I do, what I say, who I fuck, at least give me a motherfucking quarter!! Because I am sick to death of trying to be something for myself as long as it doesn't disturb any of you fuckers! I'm finished." I wiped my hand at my nose, which was suddenly running like a faucet. The tears flowing from my eyes somehow didn't register. "I'm done. I'm leaving."

I started to walk swiftly down the sidewalk and in the direction of where my car was parked. I heard the three of them behind me whispering to each other over who was going to go after me. When I heard movement, I broke out into a run.

I made it to my car and unlocked it before Sean had even rounded the corner. "Chloe! Just wait, will you?" he was yelling. I pulled open my door, slid behind the wheel, started the car up and started to pull away without putting my seat belt on. I drove past Sean, standing on the sidewalk, raised arm slowing dropping to his side.

I drove home, called the dispatcher for the school district and told her that I would no longer be making it in to teach and to cut me my check for the time that I had worked. I hung up the phone, went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of Grey Goose that had been sitting on the bottom shelf since Christmas, cracked it open and started to chug away. It wasn't my preferred choice for vodka, but had been a present from someone who thought I might like it. I swallowed it without thinking of the taste.

Once I'd managed to polish off half the bottle, I sloshed my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stripped down, reluctant to let go of the bottle in my hand for whatever reason, moving it only from my left to my right, but somehow managing to get my shirt off. I climbed into the shower and sat on the floor of the tub. I continued drinking and allowed the water to run down over me, into my eyes, off my nose. It pooled at my feet and sluggishly made its way down the drain.

I stayed under the stream until it had long turned ice cold. I lifted my foot up and twisted the water knob to the off position with some effort from the toes that I no longer felt.

Why I was so angry, I didn't know. Why I had gone nuts in front of one of my most trusted friends wasn't hitting me, only the cold fact that I wanted to be alone. I didn't want my friends or Geoff or anyone else to bother me. I wanted to sit in my tub, finish my vodka - damn, Chloe, it's gone - and be allowed to feel sorry for myself.

I wobbled to my feet and walked to my living room, dripping wet and nude. Zoe was sleeping in her terrarium, coiled tightly. I tapped on the glass, leaving a wet fingerprint on it.

"I can't always be happy, you know," I started, talking to the snake.

"I can't always be the happy girl or the tough girl or the smart girl or the girl you want to fuck. I am all of these things and none of them all at once. I am stupid and I am smart. I am angry and I am joyful. I am depressed and I am excited. I am alone..."

I looked around at the empty apartment. I was alone, drunk and talking to myself.

"But I'm surrounded. There is no escape from any of it. Ever."

I fell to my knees, the carpet burning as it scraped along my bare skin. I rocked backward and then pulled out my calves from underneath me. The floor was hard against my back. The ceiling looked like it spread out for miles around me.

"You're becoming an alcoholic," I chastised myself. "Which is pretty damn good if you're planning on finishing that book."

In the murky waters of my mind, I knew that was what I was intending to do. I wasn't going to leave the house or talk to anyone until I had it finished. I couldn't dictate what went on in my personal life, but in the story I could move around all the characters like my own little chess pieces.

"You do that! And you stop doing that!" I laughed to the room. "I shall fix you all! Stop fucking with Chloe. She has the power to make you behave!"

My chuckles sounded warped in my throat. "Stupid drunk bitch," I said to myself, then rolled over into a ball and fell asleep where I'd landed.

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In the morning, my eyes felt like raisins. All of the moisture was sapped from them and they actually seemed to crackle when I blinked.

I reached for the side of the coffee table and pulled myself up. My cell phone was blinking at me. A voice message. I dialed my box and listened to Steph demanding that I call her as soon as I got the message.

When she answered, her voice was slow and calm. "Whatever is going on with you, I really hope you can work through it," she said cautiously.

"I will. I quit the high school gig and I'm going to finish that book I've been working on. Until that's done, you guys aren't going to be seeing me around. I hope you can understand."

"It isn't important what I think, is it?"

I sighed. "Of course it is."

"No. Listen closely to me. It really isn't important what I think. I want you to understand that. Do what you need to do and come back to us when you're ready. I'll explain it to everyone, so don't worry about making any more calls. Do your thing. We'll be waiting when you're ready."

I hung up with Steph and looked over at my computer.

"Do what I need to do," I repeated, then stood up.

It was almost 3 weeks before I spoke to anyone from the group again. By then, the book was done. I'd done what I needed to do. And then some.