Chapter 4: Confusion and Sadness

Without his shoes, Curtis was at a disadvantage, picking his way over the rocky dirt, twigs, and roots under his tender feet. When he caught up to Anja, she was back at her same spot on the log. His clothes were stacked on her left, and she gestured to her right.

“Sit here next to me. Good. I am talking too much. Not enough listening. Curtis, what are you thinking? Please tell me.”

I don’t like his posture or his expression. He looks sad, not happy.

“I am terribly confused. You are the hottest girl I have ever met, by far. And not just because of your killer body. It’s the way you behave, as if being naked is just normal. And then, when you kissed me, I almost believed you were attracted to me too.

Almost? What the hell?

“But then in a flash you were gone, before I could react, really. We kissed, and then whoosh, you were off.

“Then you were directing me to exercise, first in my underwear, then completely nude. Despite what I had said about being naked.

“You wanted to prove I could be non-pointy in front of you. I was all emotional from my first real kiss, but then you wanted me to not be excited while you all naked and bouncing.

“It was important to you, on the very first day we met, that I strip naked but stay limp while you teased me.”

Oh, no!

“Your first kiss, Curtis?”

Quietly, “It was. Your directions were: ‘hold my breast, big kiss, stare at my body, get naked, watch me bounce, and don’t erect.’ Anja, I complied. I did everything you asked of me.”

What have I done?

“I do NOT understand you. This is not fun for me; you can see I am still limp. I didn’t want to be naked, but here we are. Still. You are just making me unhappy. Manipulating me.”

Hurt and embarrassment are all over his face. He’s not looking at me again—not even in my eyes. There’s more and more anger in his tone.

“I don’t need this shit. I’ll just take my clothes and leave.”

He stood up. “I want to go. I want to go now. At least, just give back my shoes so I can walk over the rocks.”

“No! Wait! Here, here’s all your stuff, I’m sorry.”

Curtis’ grim face was stony. He held out his hands. She handed over the pile, with a contrite expression.

How can I possibly recover from this?

Downcast, she watched the little fish at her feet as he pulled on his shirt, undies, pants, and finally socks and shoes.

I couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. Focusing on his collarbone, I begged.

“Curtis, I was wrong. I am not directing, I’m asking. Come back here tomorrow at ten o’clock. PLEASE. Give me a chance to apologize and to explain. I will wear clothes! No funny stuff. Will you come?”

At this point, I’m desperate.

One last quiet plea, urgently, “I’m really very sorry. Please come.”

I waited. And waited.

Finally, heavily, “Alright, I will.”

As he picked his way through the trees on the opposite side of the creek, he glanced back at Anja. She didn’t notice this; her face was buried in her hands.