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Consideration

Janna Willard

    I’m tired. I blink a couple of times, and the digital clock on the VCR comes into focus. 11:00 p.m. — no wonder. I sigh and nestle a little closer to Kevin, content to stay here forever if he’ll let me.
    Kevin rubs my arm softly. His hand is warm on my bare skin.
    “Mmm, that feels good,” I say, smiling up at him.
    He smiles back, his teeth bluish in the glow from the blank TV screen. He kisses my forehead. “You should go home, Mel.”
    I close my eyes and lay my head on his shoulder. “What if I don’t want to?”
    “You can’t stay here overnight, you know that.”
    “Why not? It’s better than home.”
    He’s silent for a moment, considering that. Then, “Because I don’t want there to be any regrets between us.”
    I feel the heat rising in my chest, and I push myself up and away from him, out of his embrace. “What regrets?” I ask, biting back tears. “Nothing we do could be different or worse than what happens at home.”
    He purses his lips, licks them, bites the bottom one, looks at me, sighs. “I could sleep on the couch, I guess.”
    “Or we could share the bed.”
    He looks at me sharply, opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”
    “Are you sure?”
    I nod. I’m not, really, but it feels like this is my only chance — for what, I’m not entirely sure — and I’ve decided to take it. Kevin sighs and turns off the silent television.
    
    Kevin has a queen-sized bed. It’s got one of those soft cushiony tops. I’ve been in his bedroom before, but always during the day, always with the light on, always alone.
    He turns on one of the table lamps and sits down on the edge of the bed. I stand just inside the doorway, watching him. The room itself is pretty bare: just his bed, a dresser, a couple of night tables with lamps on them, and a book case overflowing with books. I take a gulp of air, suddenly nervous, and close the door softly behind me.
    “So, I guess...”
    “Do you want to wear one of my t-shirts?” he asks, standing up and walking to the dresser.
    I rub my arm where he had rubbed it earlier and shake my head. “No, it’s too hot out. I’ll just... I guess I’ll...” I close my eyes, willing myself to take slow breaths. Panic will not help now, and I’ve put myself here all on my own. It’s not like Kevin forced me to stay or anything. I open my eyes and shrug, unzipping my shorts and stepping out of them. “I’ll just sleep in my underwear, I guess.”
    Kevin nods solemnly and opens a drawer. He pulls out a pair of pajamas and sets them on top of the dresser. “I’ll wear bottoms, though, okay?”
    “Wear whatever you want,” I say, more flippant than I feel, as I peel off my tank top and let it fall on top of my shorts. I make for the bed. “Which side is mine?”
    I can feel his eyes boring into my back. “You choose. I’m flexible.”
    I pull back the covers. “I’ll take the left side, then. I like being near the window.”
    Kevin nods and watches as I get into bed and pull the sheet up over my body. I leave the duvet and blanket turned down. It really is a hot night. I curl up and roll over to face the wall, giving him some privacy to change into his pajama bottoms. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but I understand that he doesn’t want to jeopardize our friendship, and I respect that.
    I feel the bed shift with his added weight, and I stifle the terror as best I can. He turns off the light, and we are both still. When I’m feeling calm again, I roll onto my back and find that he’s lying on his back, too, staring up at the ceiling.
    “What are you thinking about?” I ask. I’m suddenly wide awake, and I need company in my wakefulness.
    “Just the things I’m glad of,” he says. “Like, tomorrow’s my day off, and I’m going to have dinner with my family. And my sister and her husband have been married for three years on Sunday. Things like that.”
    I roll over onto my left side and rest my head on my hand. My right hand plays with the sheet, tracing designs and picking at wrinkles. “You have a lot of good things in your life, don’t you?”
    “I suppose so.”
    “Is that why you keep me around? To remind you that you’ve got it good?” I realize that I sound more bitter than I actually feel when he winces.
    “I keep you around because we’ve been friends for years and you know me better than anyone.”
    “Even Cheryl?” Cheryl’s his ex-girlfriend. She’d never liked me, called me a whore and a tramp every chance she got. She’s the one who looked like a hooker, with too much makeup and her big hair right out of the 80’s.
    Kevin runs his left hand through his hair and leaves his palm resting on his forehead. “Especially Cheryl. She was only interested in me because of my money and my career.”
    I put my right hand on his cheek and turn his head so he’s looking at me instead of the ceiling. “Well, no worries. I’m not your friend because of your money or your career.”
    He smiles a little. “You aren’t?”
    “Nope.” I lean a little closer. It’s terrifying and exciting, how close we are to each other, but I lean into his ear and whisper, “You have a good heart, Kevin. That’s why I’m your friend.”
    I pull away and he turns his head and our eyes meet. I find myself wondering if he slept with Cheryl in this bed, but I don’t dare ask. His hands come up and he takes hold of my shoulders. Before I lose my nerve, I press my lips onto his.
    His hands relax and start stroking my arms, and I shift my body closer to his. My lips part to allow his tongue into my mouth.
    Before I really know what I’m doing, I roll so that I’m lying on top of him. His hands move to stroke my back and they come to rest on my bra band.
    I freeze.
    He drops his hands back down to my shoulders, and he pushes me away. We’re both breathing hard.
    “Melissa, I don’t want to do this if it’s going to be too hard for you.”
    I nod and close my eyes. “I know,” I whisper.
    He wraps his arms around me and I let my head drop so that our foreheads are touching. I open my eyes.
    “Not all men are like him. You know that.”
    “Yes.”
    “Okay.” He rolls to his right and deposits me on the bed. He gets up. “I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
    I shake my head and watch him leave. Time is frozen while he’s gone. I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until he’s back under the sheet beside me.
    I wrap my right arm around his chest, pull myself closer, and rest my head on his shoulder. He puts his arms around me cautiously, like he’s afraid I’ll break. Maybe he’s right.
    “Thank you,” I say as I start to drift off.
    “What for?”
    “For seeing me.”

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