I shouldn’t have left.
I told him I wanted some time alone, but I don’t actually want that at all.
I want to yell at him.
I want to fight with him.
I want to tell him exactly what I’m thinking and for once, I want to stand up for myself. I want him to know that I’m in this and I need to know if he is, too. I dig my phone out of my bag before tossing it onto the dirt, and I walk to the edge. I type out a quick text.
AVALON:Can you call me? We should talk.
I sit, dangling my legs over the bluff’s edge, and suddenly realize I left wearing the green interview dress—I left my regular clothes at the hotel. My phone pings.
ANDRÉS:Why, so you can try to talk me out of visiting my father?
AVALON:I don’t want to talk you out of anything. Would you just call me? Please?
My phone rings a few seconds later and I tap the screen to answer right away. He mutters a quick, “Hey.”
I lose control of my voice, my words flowing quickly and cleanly, coming from an untapped well of confidence from deep within my soul. “First of all, I need you to know that I want a relationship with you. And I have no idea what that looks like when you’re done filming and you have to go back to LA.” I chuckle. “Hell, I don’t even know how I’m gonna keep my head above water with no job since you ruined everything for me with Mack, which is a whole other conversation that I don’t even want to have with you right now. There are so many unknowns for me, but the one thing that I do know is that I want to be with you. But you’re acting like I don’t get a say in that because you’re afraid of yourself. Yeah, I’m the one who stormed off, but you’re the one putting distance between us.”
I hear shuffling in the background, probably as he moves around his hotel room.
“I don’t think you really have any reason to be afraid of yourself or how you might hurt me,” I continue. “I think you’re just afraid of the intensity between us. I think you don’t want to show me the worst parts of yourself because you think I’ll reject you.”
“You did reject me.” I hear a door slam shut. “You pushed my hand away.”
“Holy wow, I wasn’t rejectingyou; I was rejecting youchokingme! You’re the one who rejected me. I was still asking you for it, and you wouldn’t give meanything. I wanted gentle and you wanted rough, so I got nothing.”
He sighs audibly.
“Just in case you were wondering,” I go on, “sex involves two people, generally speaking, and both are involved in the decision-making. I’m allowed to tell you to stop doing one thing without you jumping to the conclusion that I don’t want to continue at all. Because I wanted to continue, Andrés, and I made that very clear. I might argue that you deciding to decide for me when we were finished is more controlling and manipulative andbeast-likethan letting yourself go and trusting me to tell you when to stop.”
There’s so much background noise coming from his end of the line that it’s almost distracting, but I don’t let that slow me down because I’m on a roll.
“The fact that you could stop yourself while I rubbed my pussy over your cock tells me that you have a hell of a lot more self-control than you think you do. I think this whole inner-beast thing is just an excuse to avoid true intimacy.” I pause. “And I’m not judging you for that.”
“It sounds a hell of a lot like judgment.”
I huff. “It’s not. Because I avoid real intimacy, too, okay? I just stormed out because you said something I didn’t want to hear. I’m just…I’m so used to being alone. But I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of facing my problems on my own. I need help, and I want help. That’s new for me and I’m…I’m scared. I’m scared to face my issues. But the truth is, I understand why you need to see your father.”
A pause. A door clicking shut. “You do?” A low, consistent rumble.
Is he driving?
“Yes. The same reason I wanted to tell you my story today. I failed, but you know what? I got some clarity just from trying. Just trying made me face it and see that I’m fucked-up. I’m fucked-up over what happened to me. I mean, who wouldn’t be? But I wouldn’t have been able to admit that to anyone a few weeks ago. And that,” I shrug, “that’s gotta count for something.”
Silence drifts through a few beats before he says, “It’s more than something, Lonnie. It counts for a lot.”
“And I can’t be upset with you for trying to find your own clarity. If you think you need to talk to your father to get it, then who the hell am I to make you feel bad about it?”
“Lonnie, I’m—”
“But let me tell you this. If you’re not ready to face the worst parts of yourself, if you’re not ready to let out your demons and see them for what they really are, then you’re not ready to see that man tomorrow.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”