Chapter 9

(Two weeks later)

Denise sat nervously waiting for Jack to come to class. The last two weeks had been an experience. They had gone out for lunch on the Monday following their date. Denise had paid because she felt guilty for spending most of the weekend with Jill and Staci. She had also missed Jack's call on Sunday afternoon and was unable to get a hold of him until Algorithm's class on Monday.

Jack had seemed a little distant, but warmed a bit just before he had to go to work. Denise had kissed him goodbye and made him promise to call her later. Jack had called after work - he'd gotten off around 10 p.m. - and they had talked until midnight. As usual with their conversations, not much was passed in the personal sense. They discussed teachers, parties they'd attended or thrown, other friends, but not much else. On that Friday, they'd gone out again. This time, Jack took Denise to Dren's Side Pocket, a pool hall. Denise liked to play pool, but she wasn't very good. Jack, on the other hand, was quite good. The couple split two pitchers of beer and played pool for a few hours. Finally claiming a splitting headache, Jack had taken Denise home early. She invited him in, but he politely declined. Disappointed, Denise had gone to kiss him goodbye and been surprised to feel him slide his tongue in her mouth. He'd gently French-kissed her for a moment, holding his face in his large hands before pulling away and saying good night.

The following week, Denise had spoken with Jack on the phone most nights and saw him in class every day, but his schedule didn't permit them to get together until Saturday night. Denise had wanted to go dancing, and Jack had resisted the idea. He claimed to be a lousy dancer and Denise hadn't pushed the issue. Instead, he'd suggested they go to a movie. Disappointed, Denise had agreed. The movie was lousy, in her opinion, too much action and sex, no real plot. Unhappy at the movie choice and depressed about not going dancing, Denise insisted that Jack take her home immediately after leaving the theater. She'd kissed him goodnight briefly, but didn't invite him in. On Sunday, she did her laundry and cursed herself for being so immature in how she handled the date. When he didn't call all day, Denise assumed that Jack must be mad at her. She tried to call him later that evening, just to apologize for being a bitch, and had received no answer.

Jack finally arrived, just before class was to start. He flopped down next to her and pulled out his notebook.

"Hey," said Denise quietly, "how was your weekend?"

"Ok," mumbled Jack, "how was yours?"

"Fine," replied Denise, "I really had a good time with you on Saturday."

"Yeah, that was kind of fun," said Jack.

An uncomfortable silence descended and continued until the class was over.

"Jack," said Denise, "do you have to work today?"

"Huh? Yeah, I do at four. Why?"

"Well, I think we need to talk. That is, I have some things that I need to tell you and I was wondering if you had time to catch lunch with me."

"Ah... yeah I guess I can do that," replied Jack, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Great, let's go to the Coffee House."

Denise chose the Coffee House mainly because not many students went there. In spite of the name, the coffee served was only marginal at best, the menu limited and the service questionable. The food was good, but a bit overpriced as well. However, for privacy, there were few better restaurants. If they could get a booth, Jack and Denise were unlikely to be disturbed for quite some time. Being alone with Jack was exactly what Denise wanted.

They walked in silence across campus, looking at the gray threatening sky. Crossing North Park Avenue, they walked two blocks before they approached the dark wooden one story restaurant. The Coffee House was an older building, and looked very out of place with its brick and concrete neighbors. The outside of the building was run down, its shingled roof in disrepair and the windows were always dirty. Inside was a different story, however. The floor was plush carpet, thick enough to sink into and the same shade of blue found on most postcards of the ocean. The ten booths, which surrounded most of the perimeter, were made entirely of wood, with high backs preventing most conversations from carrying to other tables. The booths were also remarkably deep, designed to fit six adults comfortably, and had a curtain that could be drawn across the front to allow for some privacy.

Choosing a booth towards the back of the dining area, Jack allowed Denise to get in first, than slid in beside her. Denise gave him an odd look and picked up her menu. Jack shrugged and looked at his menu as well. A few minutes later a surly looking woman came to take their order. Denise ordered a chicken Caesar salad with a diet soda and Jack decided on the daily special, a meal of pork medallions cooked in a raspberry chutney, served with rice and an iced tea. The bored waitress took their order and strutted off. She returned a moment later with their drinks, plunking them on the table, and left again without a word.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about," asked Jack uncomfortably as he turned to look at Denise.

"Well... I've been thinking a lot about what you said. Mainly the stuff about how you don't really know me, things I like, etc. I realized that I do keep very... secretive about things like that and the more I thought about it, the more I had to agree with you. I am really secretive about my life. I... just don't like to talk about a lot of things and... well... no one I've ever dated really cared enough to find out anything about me and since I don't offer, I'm not sure how to go about this."

"Why don't we start with the easy things," Jack responded softly, "things like where were you born, what kind of music you like, hobbies, you know, stuff like that."

"I can do that, but the more I think about it, I don't know any of those things about you either."

"In that case I'll go first," said Jack, feeling more comfortable, "I was born in a small town in New Mexico. I like alternative rock music, but I'll listen to just about anything except rap and country, in my spare time I like to play computer games and I putter around with playing golf and taking photographs."

Denise smiled, "Ok. Well, I was born in Phoenix, Arizona. I like older music, mainly 'classic' rock, like the Eagles, the Doors, and the Beatles. I used to run track and play basketball. I like to watch old movies and read in my spare time."

The surly wench of a waitress interrupted the conversation by bringing the couple's lunch. She efficiently set the plates down and departed again. Silence descended on Jack and Denise as they sampled their fare.

"Well, I can tell this is over priced," sneered Denise, "I don't even think they've given me a full chicken breast. No wonder they don't ever look busy here."

"You're telling me," replied Jack, "I have all of four half dollar sized medallions here and a ton of sauce. Incredible."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, long enough for the waitress to come back to fill Jack's tea and check on their meal. Assuring her that things were fine, Denise closed the curtain in front of the table.

"Jack, did I do something wrong? You haven't said much all day."

Jack sighed, "No, it's nothing you did. It's me. I guess I'm just not sure how to handle you. I enjoy spending time with you, but... it's like you put on this mask that you're having a good time and sometimes I find that I really wonder if you are. Does that make sense?" "Not really," replied Denise, mystified, "I like to think that I've always had a good time with you. Can you give me a specific example?"

"Ok... How about the other night when we played pool. We have two pitchers of beer, a few laughs and then I'm not feeling well. I take you home and you were quite obviously upset that I didn't come in with you. Then the next time we go out, you insist on going home early and when we get there it's a quick kiss and goodbye. I don't know how to take you sometimes. It's like you're uncomfortable with something, but I don't know what it is. I feel like I'm guessing all the time, trying to judge your mood swings."

"I know I owe you an apology for Saturday. I was mean, but I had really wanted to go dancing and the movie just didn't do much for me. I guess I should have suggested something other than the movie, but at the time, I couldn't really think of anything else to do. I'm sorry for being such a bitch.

"On the other hand, I don't think I really have bad mood swings. Around you I've tried to be happy and fun, but honestly I'm scared. I haven't dated any guys in... well let's just say it's been a long time. I'm probably trying to hard to make this work."

"Look, mood swings wasn't what I really meant," explained Jack, "I just feel like there are some things that either happened to you or are a part of you that I don't know. It's hard for me to get close to you because you seem to... withhold?... a part of you. Until you let me in, I just don't think this is going to work."

Denise picked at her salad, suddenly not hungry. "Are you breaking up with me," she asked quietly.

"Denise, there's nothing to break up. We've gone out a few times, had a few laughs, but I don't see that as being any thing more than friendship. We're dating, not exclusively either. It's not that I don't want to spend time with you, but... we'd have to be a lot more forthcoming with each other to go to that other level of being boyfriend/girlfriend. I know I'm partially to blame, because I haven't exactly been completely open with you. If you want I can try though."

Denise picked at her food for a few minutes, obviously trying to focus her thoughts. "Ok, here's the deal," she said finally, "I think we both have a little laundry to air and if it's ok with you, I'd like to go first before I lose my nerve completely.

"First of all, ever since I asked you out, I've felt like I have to compete with Staci. Now when I told you the other day I knew a lot about your relationship with her, it was because she told me all about it after we had lunch that first time. Explaining why she opened up to me is harder and going to require a lot of background, so just be patient with me."

Jack interrupted her. "Look, don't think you have to compete with Staci. As far as I'm concerned there is no competition. Staci and I have done some things together, but as far as I'm concerned it's over. She doesn't want a relationship and I'm not looking to be a boy toy."

"That's sweet of you to say Jack," replied Denise with a small smile, "but I'm just trying to explain to you how I feel. I don't really believe that Staci is any kind of threat to me building a relationship with you. She's been too good of a friend to me and I know she wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Now if you'll let me continue with what I was getting at.

"My father left my mother when I was 12. Just one day I came home from school and he was gone. No forwarding address or phone number, just like he'd never been a part of our lives. Mom was devastated, she hadn't worked outside the house since they'd gotten married and didn't have a lot of skills for the real world. She also refused to tell us why dad left just saying it was for the best. I really resented that, I wanted the truth and I think Ronnie did too. We felt like she just didn't care enough about us to tell us why our father wasn't willing to be around. It was also hard for my older brother and I because we'd always come home to mom after school and now she wasn't there. For the first time in my life, I found that I had no supervision and could do what I wanted.

"Mom got an office job that kept her at work until 5:30 most days, leaving my brother and I to fend for ourselves. Ronnie was two years older than me and didn't deal well with my father's absence. Ronnie didn't understand why dad left and he fought with my mother a lot. He started running with a rougher crowd and soon he was getting drunk and smoking a lot of pot. His grades suffered and I suspected that he was doing harder drugs, but he really shut me out of his life.

"I was really hurt when he began shutting me out because we had always been close. He was my protector in junior high and he never bitched about having his younger sister tag along when he went out with friends. We used to talk about everything and he always gave me good advice. Then, my dad left and all that changed. I had no one to talk too. I became kind of withdrawn and quiet for a few years. I didn't have any real friends in junior high and admittedly I was kind of a geek. I wore glasses since didn't get contacts until my sophomore year of high school, and I had terrible acne as well as being kind of pudgy. I got picked on a lot, so I spent most of my time alone, usually with my nose buried in a book.

"When Ronnie was 16, he was shot during a convenience store robbery. The funny thing about it was that he was the innocent bystander. He told me at the hospital later that he was just casing the place to steal some beer for him and his friends, when these gang members came in to hold the place up. The storeowner panicked and pulled a gun on the kids. Shots were exchanged and Ronnie got hit in the shoulder.

"He told me that he thought he was going to die. He said he layed on the floor of that store and was sure he'd bleed to death before the ambulance arrived. Ronnie apologized to me while he was in the hospital for shutting me out. He said that with dad gone, he just didn't know what to do, that he felt lost. He promised to make it up to me however he could. He told me he'd missed me, and it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"He came through surgery ok and once he was back to school he went 180 degrees. His grades improved and he got a part-time job to help my mother out with the groceries and gas for the car.

"As for me, I just had a very hard time with life. I started seeing this high school junior a few weeks before Ronnie got shot - he was my first boyfriend; I was a freshman in high school at the time - and the day of the shooting, I was at his house losing my viginity. You can imagine how I felt later. I felt so guilty for being out having sex - unprotected too, I can only imagine if I'd gotten pregnant - that I decided Ronnie's getting shot was God's way of punishing me."

"Denise that's awful," Jack interrupted again, "you can't blame yourself for things that weren't in your control."

She patted his hand and replied, "I know that now, but back then I was just a scared teenager spending time with a boy who knew how to manipulate a person with low self-esteem.

"The sad part was that my boyfriend dumped me the next day. He'd gotten what he wanted and tossed me aside for some cheerleader, making sure all his friends knew about me. I was really hurt, but I got on with my life. Fortunately for me, my mom was pretty cool. I told her everything a week or two later, and after the standard mom lecture about underage premarital sex she actually made me an appointment to get me on the pill. She told me she realized that she couldn't be there for us every minute and if I was going to have sex, there wasn't a whole lot she could do to stop me. On the other hand, having a baby at 16 wasn't a good idea so the lesser of two evils was to put me on birth control and leave it up to my own good judgment.

"So here I was in ninth grade, on the pill and feeling invincible. I had always been a good student but now I began to chase boys my own age - for all the good it did me. To back up a bit, at almost 15, I was still very much a tomboy and kind of dorky looking. I had braces and glasses, and usually broken out in pimples. I was kind of athletic, but I'd never pursued anything in sports. I had confidence in myself though to make up for my lack of friends, so being turned down for dates wasn't devastating. I was lonely a lot back then, but at least I had my brother back. He was there for me, often picking me up after school and being a good role model after his shooting.

"The summer I was 16, he was killed in an automobile accident. In spite of all the progress he'd made in the past four years since the shooting, he still drank heavily on occasion. He was coming home one night from a party and missed a turn. His little two-door car slammed into a concrete wall at about 75 miles an hour. To this day I'm not even sure there was anything in his coffin, his body was so mangled and burned."

Denise paused to wipe the tears from her eyes before continuing. Jack reached out to her and she leaned against him for a moment. Denise moved back to the far end of the booth looking at Jack. She was silent for almost ten minutes before continuing.

"After my brother died, I really lost my way for a while. I started fighting with my mother all the time, ignoring my curfew and sneaking out when she would ground me. I just couldn't understand why my brother had been taken from me then and not when he was shot. I couldn't make sense of it.

"When I went back to school in the fall, I started to get a bad reputation, fighting with teachers and skipping class. My grades began to slip too. I had begun seeing a guy in my grade and we were really close. He came from a very religious family and I felt safe with him. Anyway, in my grief I began spending a lot of time with him. One thing led to another and I had sex with him one afternoon at his house. Things would have been fine except that his mother came home early that day and found us together in bed. She told her son he was forbidden to see me. She called me an ugly good for nothing whore and a bunch of other names, telling me I would burn in hell for seducing her son. Then she tried to call my mother, but she wasn't at home. She told me what a bad influence I was on her son and kicked me out of the house. It was an ugly day that led to an ugly time for me.