Yes and No

I should have said no to him, I knew I should have. I knew even as I was saying yes. I said yes, thinking no. I said no, just not out loud. I guess it’s my fault then. I guess most things are. Maybe I’m too hard on him. Maybe I love him. I guess I love him. Yes. Yes, I love him.

We met in the summer, a few years back. I wanted to meet him, well, someone. It was the summer. It was a time to meet people. I was sixteen, happy. I went to the beach and he was there too. I swam out to him. I said hi.

He said hi back. We both smiled for a moment, awkwardly. He had a strong face, strong cheekbones. He was cute. I felt daring, like I had just done something unthinkable. He asked my name. I blushed and said, “Charlotte.”

His name was Tommy. I giggled when he told me; I thought it was a cute name. It fit him. He looked like a Tommy. He had curly blonde hair, short. It was all matted down from the water, but I could still tell it was curly. After a few minutes of small talk he asked, “You hungry?” I said yes and we walked back.

We walked to his house, a block away from the beach, and had turkey sandwiches on Kaiser rolls. He asked me questions about my friends and my hobbies. He laughed a lot, so did I. His house was big and nice. He went to my school, a grade older than I was. He knew some of the people that I did. I liked him. I really did.

I stayed there until dusk, and then I thought I should go home. He told me that I should stay and I did, against my better judgment. I called my mom and told her I was staying at a friend’s. We talked until the sun came up and then he kissed me. It was like a dream. The night air was soft and cool. At dawn, after the kiss, we dozed off in lawn chairs on his porch.

            We dated for three years.

He came over again last night. I had told him I wasn’t interested, that I didn’t want to see him- it was all in the letter. He came over to tell me that I was scared. He came to tell me to say it all to his face. So I opened the door and started crying. Then he held me and told me that I loved him and that I just forgot. I nodded.

He came in. My parents had gone out, so no one was there to stop him. I was still crying as he closed the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen and I could hear the refrigerator open and close. “Where does you dad keep the bottle opener?” I paused and then told him the drawer next to the sink. A “pop” rang out as he opened the beer. He came back into the living room and said, “Okay, let’s talk.”

I shook my head no and said, “You have to leave.” He sipped the beer and then looked down. “Babe,” he said rubbing his forehead, “we’ve been through this. You know you love me. So drop the act and come over here.” He spoke softly, in a loving coo. I walked over and sat down next to him. He finished off the beer and pulled a second from his pocket along with the bottle opener.

After about six he started to get drunk. I told him to stop but he didn’t like that. “I’m fine!” He didn’t sound so sweet anymore. I told him that I thought he should leave again. He didn’t like that either. “Jesus Christ Babe! What the hell do I have to do to prove it to you, huh? I love you! I love you!” He got up and started yelling at me. I started crying again. “Oh, crying, you’re crying now?” He grabbed my hand and shook me. “That doesn’t solve a thing Char, nothing! Now, stop it! Stop it! Stop crying!” That’s when he pulled me up and threw me against the wall. “You see what crying gets you? You see?” He came close to my face, his breath hot on my cheek. “Yes,” I squeaked, “I see.” “Good. That’s real good babe…” He started kissing me then.

            He pushed me to the floor, still kissing me. I started to push him off but then he shook me again and held me down. He looked at me. “Easy… or hard?” I felt the tears coming but I held them back. “Easy… easy… easy…” I said.

I say no, but not out loud. I can’t, I can’t out loud. If I do, if I say it out loud, no, well, then, he might hear me say it. And he wouldn’t like that. And I love him. Yes. Yes, I love him. I do. I think. Maybe. Maybe, just not out loud.