the first right thing

she had known since the first time they ever spoke but the first time that she admitted she knew they were in a hottub in her parents backyard, drinking cheap wine from a bottle so big they had to use both hands to tilt it upwards. it was christian who said it, and he said it with a purpose completely apart from revealing the truth.

william loves you.

the only part of her that was not submerged were her ears and eyes, and she slid like a crocodile over to william and hugged him and he laughed and sighed in one desparate noise and she knew she shouldnt have. he was just wearing underwear, white ones that he was ashamed of, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck and situated herself between his legs she could feel him hardening. their wet cheeks made a doughy sound when she pulled back.

the reason christian said it was because he had just kissed her, when william had gotten up and tactufully ballooned out his shorts before tiptoeing to the bathroom. she was sitting on the ledge with her feet up on either side of her hips and he slid over and without asking or touching her or waiting for a second just to look, put his mouth on hers, open and grasping. it was an urgent kiss, more like an examination or a test drive. there was nothing about like involved, he was doing it because she was pretty and his friend had a crush on her, had had a crush on her since the day she ate a salad with an ice cream scoop at work. she was someone who it would always be acceptable to have a crush on, mainly because she made everyone feel like she had a crush on them, and there was something more attractive about that than anything else in the world. but christian didnt like her, not really, not like william did. and kissing her really wasnt that exciting, in fact he became exponentially more aroused when he saw william's shadow in the door of the porch bathroom and watched, with an eye half open like a blind that almost reaches the windowsill, him descend the stairs and wipe away his droopy brown hair in an awkward attempt to pretend not to notice. it was too easy, see. thats why christian did it.

it was delicious for her that night. it was delicious because she didnt have to really try, she had been doing it for so long that it really did feel natural. there was no part of her that thought, slide like a crocodile, slide slide slide. there was no part of her that thought this right now, my wet body in between his naked legs, must be unbearable to him, it must be nearing misery. when she thought about it later she wished there had been a moment when she did something like that,like the crocodile slide thing, maybe even all the way back in preschool, and thought, "oh, this is the first wrong thing ive ever done, and even though it doesnt feel right it feels good." but if she had known it was wrong it would have been much more transparent, and part of the wrongness of it was that she was totally oblivious.

the first time she was ever made to realize how tragic it was that she had been blind to it all along, was years later when she and william had drinks in the mission after not having seen each other for almost a year, after he told her that yes, indeed he did have feelings for her and it was becoming uncomfortable, this closeness to her, this proximity. they met up for drinks because she insisted on it, like she insisted with every other male friend of hers who had admitted to having romantic feelings for her that it wasnt a big deal, that it was just a phase, that the only reason they liked her was beacuse they loved her so much as a friend. when really the only reason they liked her was because she loved them so much, period. it didnt matter what kind of love it was, if she ever had any intentions of sleeping with them or even holding their hand. she loved them and laughed with them and gave them all of her in every way she could, in every non-body way she could. and that was always the catch, the body part. she dangled it and held it in front of them like a beautiful dress in a window on a perfect size zero mannequin--when you look at the dress you can imagine what you would look like in it, if only you were a size zero mannequin. and then you go to try it on and it just plain doesnt fit or your saddlebags jut out or it makes your breasts look floppy. they imagined themselves as mannequins because she gave them the illusion they were, and then they went to try it on and essentially it had all been a lie.

so they met in the mission at a bar she had never been to and she had four wine spritzers even though she was driving and he drank scotch and they made small talk and never brought up the hottub or the ensuing conversations or where christian was. the weeks following the hottub he had moved back to washington and never returned her emails. william was being recalcitrant in his conversation, purposefully creating silences and answering questions with just a few words. she missed him, she earnestly wanted to hang out with him again, to laugh about work or talk about books or be the only people who follow the rule at costume parties. she kept reaching for those things, she kept trying to make it like it was, and all she got from him was the feeling that this was something he was enduring. but, as is usually the case when someone is enduring something, he seemed to be waiting. like he was waiting on the third person to join them or some game to come on the bar's tv. after they cleared the tab and were sitting in silence with just a few sips left, she did something she had never done with a man who was her friend, who wanted to be her something else. she got the point.

we can never be friends, can we?

will you ever be in love with me, he said, with no question mark.

she gave him a closed lip smile, left a fiver on the table for the tip and walked out into the brisk san francisco night. it was the first right thing she had ever done.