Traces of Desire
Copyright© 2025 by Big Ed Magusson
Chapter 23
Len was still awake when I all but stomped into the room. I was still mentally cursing myself for being an idiot. He’d been lying on his bed, watching a movie with the sound low but he sat up as soon as he saw me. Some annoying part of me recognized it was 2001: A Space Odyssey and shook it off.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I think I screwed up.” I flung myself into my chair. “Britt and I were hitting it off...” I told him about dinner.
“So what happened?
I sighed and told him what’d happened on her porch.
Len burst out laughing and didn’t even stop when I glared at him.
“Yeah, you totally blew it.” He chuckled sympathetically.
“How would I know? It was first date!”
“What’s that have to do with it?”
“Everything.” I buried my head in my hands.
“Hey, man. It happens. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yeah, but, but...” I sighed in frustration and shook my head. I could’ve been having sex right now! “I’m such an idiot.”
He was quiet, so I looked up. He smiled, though I sensed it was in understanding but not agreement. Then he paused and thought.
I waited.
“I’ve got a possible consolation,” he said after a moment. “If it’ll help.”
“Sure, but...” I threw my hands up. “What?”
“Debbie’s birthday is tomorrow and they’re throwing a party. I’m sure you could be my plus one.
I furrowed my brow. A party? They hadn’t invited me ... but ... it actually sounded good. It’d at least keep my mind off of things. And what was going to the worst part? Walking home alone while Len spent the night again?
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
I couldn’t screw up any worse.
No—fuck up any worse. The obscenity fit.
I vowed I was never going to do that again.
I managed to get some sleep—I don’t know how—and woke up to find Len had already left for breakfast. I was still in a foul mood and decided not take advantage of his absence. Instead, I headed down to catch up with him. He was sitting with some of the guys from our floor. They were talking about the Broncos and I quickly joined in. Len finished while I was still eating and said he’d see me back in the room. I arrived just as he was hanging up the phone.
“Just the guy I want to talk to,” he said. “We need to get Debbie a present.”
“Okay. Head to the mall?”
“Nah. Pearl Street, I think.”
I winced. “The mall”—by which we meant the Crossroads Mall—was your traditional indoor mall with department stores and a food court. In contrast, the Pearl Street Mall was a four block outdoor pedestrian mall with bars, restaurants, and specialty shops. One cost a lot more than the other. I really hoped we were getting a joint gift.
If Len noticed my wince, he didn’t say anything, so I quickly forced a smile and grabbed my windbreaker. We could probably find something appropriate that wasn’t too expensive. Probably.
Len wasn’t in a talkative mood as we walked to Pearl Street. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing. My mind drifted and all too soon I was too busy mentally replaying the conversation with Britt in my head. I stewed, but there was nothing I could do to change anything. I wondered if I should called her, but I had no idea what to say. Besides, I’d see her at D&D tomorrow anyway. I had until then to figure something out.
But what? How could I have been so stupid?
I needed to snap out of that, as best I could. The party would certainly better than staying home and sulking.
When we arrived at Pearl Street, I expected we’d go into a jewelry store or women’s boutique to get a traditional girlfriend gift. Instead, Len led us into the first Art Co-op (there were two on opposite ends of the mall) and the store selling Tibetan Eastern knickknacks. He spent a lot of time looking around but only frowned. When I made suggestions, he just shook his head. He didn’t exactly say what he was looking for other than “I’ll know it when I see it.”
I shrugged and went along. What else could I do?
But as we wandered into other stores on the mall, my annoyance grew. We weren’t finding anything and I’d gotten long tired of making suggestions. Worse, my stomach was starting to rumble. I checked my watch. If we didn’t head back soon, we’d miss lunch in the cafeteria and there was no way I wanted to pay for lunch out when I had free food back in the dorm. Not after what I’d dropped for dinner with Britt.
We stopped at the kite store, which made no sense for presents for a girlfriend. Okay, maybe not a girlfriend, but definitely somebody more than a casual friend. Len continued to look around here and there.
“Can you at least give me a clue what she’d like?” I asked.
“It has to be personal,” he said. “Something that’ll brighten her life.”
I bit my lip. I had no idea what that could be.
But then in the second Art Co-op, he pulled up short in front of a booth displaying little colorized photos. The artist had started with black and white film and then added paint on top to create a new blended effect. Len’s eyes fixed on a picture of two little girls playing among lilies.
“An homage to John Singer Sargent,” he mused. He smiled. “This is it.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
Len stepped back and looked the booth over. He chuckled. “You know, I think my mom knows this lady.” He gestured at the artist’s name.
“You think she’ll like it?” I asked. The photo/painting collage was cute, especially the way the two girls were smiling sweetly at each other. Then I spotted the price and forced back a choke.
Len heard me anyway. “I’ll get this if you get the wine coolers.”
I nodded. That was more than a deal.
“And, yeah, she’ll like it. She loves lilies, so this is perfect.” He checked his watch. “But let’s get going. The cafeteria’s going to close soon.”
I nodded with relief. He actually had been paying attention to me as we shopped and picked up my nervousness. That’s what he did. Paid attention to people. Which probably explained his success with the ladies.
I mean, I never would’ve gotten this as a gift in a million years. My gifts for Andrea had been more traditional—bracelets and a necklace. I didn’t know what flowers Andrea liked.
I caught myself.
How the hell had we dated a year and I didn’t know what she liked?
I’d bought her roses plenty of times. She’s always appreciated it. Well, at least early on.
But ... maybe I should have paid more attention.
Maybe I needed to start channeling my “inner Len.”
After lunch, we headed back out again but this time down the hill to LiquorMart. I dithered about how many wine coolers to buy.
“So...,” I asked Len, “who’s going to be there?”
He gave some names I didn’t recognize. He didn’t mention Joey, Carmen, or Britt, which was a relief. I had a stay of execution.
“It’s a small party,” he said. “I think two packs would be enough.”
I nodded but in my head, I was calculating how much money was in my bank account. It was only early October but at this rate, I wouldn’t make it through November. I had a savings bond from Auntie Betty, but I knew there’d be hell to pay if Dad found out I’d cashed it in.
I needed money. It was probably too late to apply for scholarships. Maybe work study? I didn’t know how you got work study. I might have to get a part -time job.
Dad wouldn’t like it. I could already hear him saying, “You’re there to study!”
But ... what could I do?
We arrived at the party fashionably late. When Len knocked on the door, I had flashbacks of Debbie opening it in her robe. Except this time it was still early evening and we heard the thump of music. When Denise opened the door, she was dressed in a frilly party dress that reminded me of a 1940’s pin-up, exposed cleavage and all.
She smiled. “Come say hi to the birthday girl!” As we entered, she gave me a quick hug and Len a longer one. We entered the small living room and collected similar hugs from Debbie. Then Denise started introducing us to the other seven or eight guests. Most of the names went in one ear and out the other, except for Layne and Jonathan, who were impossible to ignore. They both wore new wave haircuts and matching earrings in their left ears along with flamboyant clothes. Layne was talking animatedly and waving his arms around like he was directing a symphony.
Then Denise finished the introductions with Brenda.
She took my breath away.
She reminded me a bit of Andrea, especially in the cheeks and the shape of her eyes. Her hair was close too, except wavier and her breasts were larger. I immediately felt a rush of desire and knew I was a goner when she smiled at me—bold and inviting. It was a promise of everything Andrea wasn’t. Even better, she was here and not in California.
“Hey,” I said. Then I turned to Denise and held up the wine coolers. “Where do you want these?”
“On the kitchen counter.”
“I’ll show you where it is,” Brenda said.
I smiled at her. It was a small apartment and I was pretty sure I could find the kitchen. But I wasn’t going to turn down a guide.
I lost track of time chatting with Brenda. As we talked, I did my best to mimic everything I’d seen Len do at parties. I listened. I nodded. I ignored the rest of the party. I didn’t worry about trying to make an impression. I just focused on her.
She was quick-witted with a penchant for sarcasm, usually at the expense of politicians. She was no Reagan fan but didn’t care much for the Democrats either.
“They don’t have the balls to stand up to the Religious Right,” she said.
I shrugged. I wasn’t so sure the Religious Right was that bad, or that powerful, but I could appreciate her point of view. The Right said a lot of things I couldn’t agree with, even given Mom and Dad’s constant lectures.
“Sounds like you really care about politics.”
“You noticed!” She grinned. “I’m a poly sci major. Pre-law, actually, but I want to go into civil rights.”
“What do you like about that?”
“Oh, there’s so much...”
I smiled and settled back to listen.
Brenda went on for quite a while. I nodded and listened actually well, even when I disagreed with her. I didn’t see the need to say anything.
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