I didn’t start freaking out until I was a Google map-block away from Dex’s apartment. And when I say freaking out, I mean, full-on panic attack. Going up the wrong way on a one-way street didn’t help either. I quickly pulled my bike into a small parking lot between a donut shop and a sleazy motel, got off it and put my head between my legs.
My entire body was awash with the sickening pins and needles effects that my panic attacks (or extreme nervousness) produced. I was so focused on not losing my breath or fainting out cold in public, that I barely noticed the freezing rain that fell steadily on my back.
I straightened up, leaned against the donut shop’s brick wall and raised my head to the sky, hoping the wetness would bring some sense of reality to me.
Sometimes panic attacks did creep in out of nowhere, but I knew this one was the pure product of the situation. Really, there was nothing to be afraid of. I was going to see Dex. Yes, sometimes things between us were a tad awkward when we’d been apart for a while, but even now I didn’t think that would be the case. I had even talked to him the morning before, getting the directions to his apartment.
I guess I just wasn’t sure what Jenn would be like. And I didn’t know how they would be around each other. What if they were some super-affectionate couple and were kissing every five minutes? The thought of that made my eyes roll back in my head.
“You all right, girlie?”
I blinked hard at the rain and looked over at a young, dreadlocked man who was stopped on the sidewalk near me.
I nodded quickly, not finding the words and feeling embarrassed.
“Least someone here likes the rain,” he said, more to himself than to me, and started swaggering down the street until he was out of my sight.
I gathered my thoughts and composed myself. I needed to pull it together here and now or this whole week would be a waste of time. If Jenn and Dex were going to be all coupley and cute, so be it. This was just part of the process and I would just have to deal.
Though I didn’t want to, I conjured up an image of them together, lips locked in a passionate embrace. It hurt, boy did it ever, but I kept that image in my mind’s eye and forced myself to see every detail, to feel everything I was going to feel. Disgust, shame, embarrassment, jealously, envy, awkwardness, even lust. I felt it all right there in that parking lot beside Top Shop donuts, not seeing the people walking past with their steaming coffees and brightly confectioned donuts in hand. I just saw Dex and Jenn. Jenn and Dex.
And then it was over. I imagined the worst and I was still alive, although my legs were shaking slightly and I was feeling pukey.
I shook it off regardless, put on my favorite Alice in Chains song “Again” in my ear to empower me (yeah, I know, strange choice but I was in Seattle after all) and got back on the bike.
I took Putt-Putt around a few left turns, trying to get on the one-way street heading in the right direction and soon enough I was parked outside of their building. It was located on the corner, across from a convenience store and the monorail tracks and stood out from all the other buildings in the neighborhood thanks to its jaunty French design. It looked like the apartment buildings you’d see in Paris, albeit woefully out of place with the Seattle Space Needle looming nearby.
I looked up at the windows, wondering which apartment was theirs and if they were watching me. I took in a deep breath, clenched and unclenched my fists, and walked over to the front doors.
I entered in their buzzer number on the directory and waited with bated breath. There was a quick click from the speaker and when I went over to go speak into it, the door buzzed loudly.
That was a bit too trusting; I could have been anyone. Unless, of course, he or she really had been watching me come in. That made me feel even more nervy but I shoved down the itchy, hot feeling that was creeping up my throat and entered the pristine, art deco-like lobby. I made my way to the elevator, the wet soles of my boots making squeaking rat-like noises on the black and white tiles. I paused in front of the mirror by the elevator and gave myself the once over.
I was wearing my high, cherry red Doc boots, black leggings, a hip-length grey sweater and my black leather jacket, duffel bag in one hand, my brown messenger bag and helmet in the other. I had a bad case of helmet hair, which, combined with the rain, made me look like a scruffy toy dog. My nose was red and could have done with some powder and concealer but I was afraid the longer I stayed in the lobby primping myself, the more likely that either Dex or Jenn would come down and catch me in the act.
I got in the elevator, went up the one floor, and cautiously stepped out into a red carpeted hallway. Their apartment was at one end of the hall, the door looming like something out of the Dark Tower.
I walked carefully down the hall and briefly thought about turning around and running away. But I didn’t and I couldn’t. I just kept walking, heart in my throat, aware of how ridiculous my feelings were. But knowing didn’t make them go away.
Time to get this over with, I thought and knocked on the door in three short raps.
The door immediately flung open and I found myself face-to-face with none other than Jennifer Rodriguez.
I lost all feeling in my body. I know my eyes looked frightfully wide. I wasn’t even able to fake smile at her.
She was taller in person, maybe 5’9”, at least the same height as Dex. She was thinner, too, as was usually the case with TV (or internet) personalities. She was lean and long but had more oomph and bang to her form than my skinny-Minnie sister. She was wearing tight jeans, high heels, and a black sleeveless low-cut top that showcased a pair of smallish but mesmerizingly perky breasts. Her skin was the color of clouded honey, her eyes a fiery hazel, her hair annoyingly shiny and curly and a shade or two darker than her skin tone.
I didn’t know how long I had been in my head, taking her in, but suddenly her lips parted and all I saw were ivory veneers against pink lip gloss. And then she was reaching for me. To, like, hug me.
“Perry!” she exclaimed in a voice that was annoyingly like Blake Lively’s in that low, throaty tone. Damn this sexy-voiced couple!
She wrapped her arms around me in a quick embrace, while I tried desperately to say something or do anything. I couldn’t even touch her back. I was dumbfounded.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling away and looking me up and down. “Come in, you must be freezing. It’s been raining for fucking days here; it gets right in your bones, you know?”
I think I mumbled, “uh huh” as she led me into the apartment.
“Let me take that,” she said, picking my duffel bag from my hands. She took it into a room and disappeared. I watched her tiny butt go.
I stood in the foyer of Dex and Jenn’s apartment. Aside from a few boxes in the corner, it looked like they were pretty much all moved in. There was the modern kitchen off to the right with a bar top and stools facing the living room that was lined with bookshelves and a giant entertainment system. Beside it, a rounded balcony faced right onto the suspended monorail tracks. In the corner of the apartment were the doors to what I assumed was their bedroom and a bathroom, and covered French doors led into the room that Jenn had gone into.
It was modern, it was small, and it didn’t look very lived in. I couldn’t detect any of Dex’s personality in the place.
“Perry?” Jenn asked as she stepped out from behind the French doors. I looked over at her, not really seeing her or comprehending anything. It was all so surreal. Was I really here? Where was Dex, anyway?
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It was a long ride. I can barely feel my fingers.”
Jenn gave me a sympathetic look, one that seemed completely sincere. I don’t know why that surprised me; it’s not like I ever had a reason to think Jenn didn’t like me…I mean, just because I didn’t like her.
And now I was actually feeling really bad for being such a bitch about her this whole time. She really wasn’t the evil whore I was making her out to be. Was she?
She walked over, her heels clicking across the hardwood, and reached out with her hands, “Want me to take the rest of your stuff to your room?”
“No, it’s fine, I can manage,” I said. I took a step towards her, but the squeak of my wet boots reminded me that it was probably rude of me to tread through her (their) apartment. I stooped down to begin the laborious process of untying them but she told me to not bother.
“We’re not fussy here,” she added, and beckoned me to come over. I wasn’t sure if I believed that. Even though Dex was probably a little bit messy, the apartment was looking spotless and most likely all thanks to Jenn. Oh, well. If I could keep my boots on, I was keeping them on.
“Is this where I’m bunking down?” I asked.
“Yes, sorry it’s such a mess,” Jenn said, and touched my shoulder gently, guiding me into the room that was tiny and not a mess at all. “It’s obviously not a true bedroom since there isn’t even a window. Dex uses it as his office.”
I put my purse and helmet down on the tiny single bed covered in fancy, pistachio green linen and eyed his desk in the corner, which held up a massive flat screen Mac monitor and a range of other technical equipment. A column of clear boxes containing cameras and photographic stuff were stacked beside it. The shelves above the computer were almost keeling over with a plethora of books that ranged from Paranormal Normal? to The Demise of the Record Industry to Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. On the other side of the desk were two guitars and one bass propped up in their stands. The walls of the room were covered from floor to ceiling with framed photographs of rock stars and arty concert posters such as Secret Chiefs 3 and The Cars. Aside from the pretty green bedspread, this room was definitely all Dex.