One Night with Josh

         Laura was reading her favorite book when the phone interrupted her. She thought for a second to just ignore it and continue her reading, but decided that hearing another person's voice, even that of a telemarketer, would be a welcome reprieve from the hours she had been spending alone reading.
         "Laura Fowler?" asked the masculine voice on the other line. She couldn't place the voice so she glanced at her caller id. The number was a friend's, Josh's, but the voice was not.
         "Yes?"
         "Um, hi, this is Paul, Josh's friend...We need you over here."
         He must, of course, be referring to the place where Laura had formerly worked with Josh, where Josh was still working.
         "Why? What's wrong? What happened?" she asked worriedly.
         "Oh nothing too bad. He's been feeling bad lately so we thought a little booze would cheer him up." There was a pause and she thought she could hear yelling in the background. "Can you just get up here?" he asked pleadingly.
         "Sure, I'm on my way."
         Her book forgotten, Laura grabbed her keys and ran out of her apartment. She biked hard and fast to the building she had formerly lived and worked in. They had been camp counselors. In the process they had become good friends. She knew very well that he was sad and had been since she had met him. As the months wore on, she had noticed his negative tendencies growing stronger and it worried her.
         When she jumped off her bike at the entrance, someone was waiting there to greet her. The man introduced himself as the Paul from the phone. She parked her bike inside the secured lobby of the building and walked with him to Josh's room.
         "How did he get drunk? He never drinks," she asked.
         "I guess you know about his depression....well the guys and I thought that he could use some alcohol, just to forget about sad stuff for awhile. But we weren't watching him that well. I don't know how much he drank, but this is the first time he's talked this much since I met him. He's been trying to call you for an hour now, finally made us do it. We figured it was worth a shot, maybe you could bring him back down to earth."
         She was curious why he had wanted her specifically. They had a tumultuous past and she figured that she would be the last person he would want to see when he was inebriated. They had a very messy relationship, almost ending up romantic. Now they were merely good friends, but she could sense all along that there were certain things he was unwilling to tell her.
         "You don't happen to know why he asked for me, do you?" she asked right outside Josh's door.
         He avoided her glance sheepishly, which part of her found particularly amusing for a man of such stature. "Most of what he said should not be repeated. All I'll say is that he wanted to tell you something."
         She gulped nervously and knocked on the door. All she could hear was loud, somber rock music and heavy footsteps.
         "Josh?" she yelled through the door. She leaned up against it when it suddenly, violently opened before her. Paul stepped back.
         The man in the doorway was nothing like her friend. His usually tidy appearance was messy. He only had one boot on and his usually ironed shirt was untucked, wrinkled and open part of the way, displaying glimpses of his chest. His usually neatly combed brown hair was in massive sweaty clumps on either side of his face, with several parts actually standing on end. His eyes were the traditional drunken bloodshot, and for the first time in a very long time there was a goofy smile on his face.
         "Laura! Bout time you gots your ass to me!"
         Without warning he pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately, or rather as passionately as a drunken man can. She did not know what to do, so overcome was she. She tried to fling her arms but his own were pinning hers. When he stopped and released her, she stood there aghast. A look at Paul, still standing nearby, reflected the unexpected action: his eyes and mouth stood gaping.
         Josh merely laughed and went back inside the room. The loud music receded into nothingness.
         "Come on Laura! Lock the door! They steal beer."
         She nodded her false confidence at Paul and walked inside. Once in the room, she turned around to close the door. Before she was aware of his presence, he was behind her, turning her around to face him while one of his broad hands clumsily sought the lock.
         "Josh?" she asked frightened.
         "Scare you?" he asked, his breathe pouring out many different alcoholic odors. He laughed and she cringed at the smell. He backed away, almost tripping on himself in the process. Instead, he let himself fall on his small cot.
         "Laura laura laura...funny name..." he giggled.
         Her nerves were on edge. She did not know how to deal with this situation. She hated drunk people, which is why she had chosen to remain distant from the ordinary college life. He had been the same way before. But now he was not himself. She was speaking with a familiar stranger instead of her good friend.
         She slowly stepped toward the cot, intently watching the man on it for any sudden movements.
         "Why did you want me here, Josh?"
         "Cuz...I wanted to tell you something....." He looked confused for a second. Then his face cleared and instead looked as serene as a Buddha statue.
         "I love you."
         She stopped in her tracks and stared at him.
         "What, no kiss?" he said while giggling. She resumed slowly walking over to him. His giggling turned into soft sobbing. He was muttering something but it was too low for her to hear.
         She quickly went and sat on the edge of the cot and gripped his hand in both of her own. His sobbing seemed only to get louder. It was almost too much for her to bear.
         "What's wrong, honey?" she asked him softly, caressing his fist in a desperate attempt to soothe him. "Tell me what's been bothering you. Please."
         "I already done told you. Laura, I love you, Laura."
         She paused for a moment. She had hoped the first time he had said it, it had merely been caused by the alcohol. But this was no accident. Despite his present state, there seemed to be some bit of truth in his words.
         "Since I saw you...but shit got messed up...and now you are engaged...what was I posed to do?...Fuck..."
         She let him talk. She had not yet formulated a suitable response so it seemed the best way to go.
         However, now he was silent for a while. She searched his face for signs that he had passed out. But his eyes were still open and moving wildly across the room. The two blue bulbs finally found her and locked on her own eyes. His free arm reached around her and pulled her down into the bed with him. She was helplessly pinned on his warm chest.
         "Why didn't I keep you when I coulda?" he said in a strange half happy, half longing tone. He giggled.
         "I bet you a good lay," he said drunkenly. "I done told you, you be my sexy seductress."
         She cringed as she remembered the times he had jokingly called her the same thing. She had always thought it was just a silly name.
         Beneath her, he went tense.
         "Slut!" he shouted while he violently heaved her off of him and onto the floor. She landed with a dull thud on the hard concrete floor, landing hard on her arm. Her right shoulder pulsed with pain. Still on the cot, he sat up. Suddenly afraid for her life, Laura scurried along the floor toward the door. Josh leapt up to his feet and with two steps overtook her. He picked her up easily and carried her back to the cot. She caught her breath as her injured shoulder throbbed in pain under his arm. He laid her softly onto the mattress and sat precariously on the edge of the small bed. She looked into his face and saw a picture of despondence. Tears were freely pouring down his sad face. He gently stroked her face.
         "Josh, I think I should go," she said quietly afraid.
         He continued petting her. She was feeling more like an object by the second.
         "Noooo....stay and talk to me. We need to talk." He was persistent.
         "Okay, we'll talk. But if you hurt me again, I will have to leave."
         He nodded affectionately.
         The air was filled with silence now. He continued stroking her face and arms. She tried not to think of it and looked over his room. It was a very spare room to begin with, very utilitarian with concrete walls, ceiling and floor. The only spot of color in the room was present on his computer table. Intricate drawings of various scenes adorned the flat surfaces. Numerous candles and miniatures of dragons littered the table. But front and foremost, propped up against his monitor was a quickly drawn pencil sketch of a girl baring striking similarity to herself.
         Shocked, she turned her attention back to the artist. His hand were now stroking her hand and gently playing with her engagement ring.
         "Why didn't we work out?" he asked quietly while playing with her simple ring.
         "You said we weren't right for each other," she responded, remembering when he had said the words and her heartbreak at hearing them all those months ago.
         He sighed. "Do you think we're right for each other?" he asked pleadingly.
         She remained silent. She could think of no right answer and it was a question she had been pondering for too long to be able to answer clearly.
         The silence that thus followed her lack of response was deafening.
         "No..." he said quietly.
         Josh put her hand down, got up, and went to the mini fridge in the corner. He pulled out a beer and a bottled water and returned to the cot. He placed the bottled water on the bruise forming on her shoulder. He opened the beer for himself.
         "Maybe you shouldn't be drinking anymore than you already have," she said quietly.
         "I'll drink if I want to. It help me."
         He defiantly took a large gulp from the can.
         "Josh...don't do this to yourself. Please."
         "I'm not doing anything. You're the bitch hurtin' me." He paused to take another swig. "Always teasin' me with your...stuff....Makin me love you like an idiot...."
         She sat up on the cot. She didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted to slap him for blaming his condition entirely on her, as if she had intentionally tried to hurt him. Her heart ached knowing that whether consciously or not, she had injured her closest friend. Her mind screamed its confusion.
         "I'm sorry...I didn't know..." she stammered.
         He replied by breaking into fresh tears. She took the opportunity to remove the can from his hand and set it aside. She held his shoulders, attempting to provide friendly comfort. His hands gripped hers as his tears continued to fall. She rested her head against his arm as she continued to unconsciously say condolences.
         His sobs were growing less forceful when he brought his head up again. One of his hands left hers in favor of her chin. He directed her face so that it was in front of his. His still tearing eyes surveyed her face quietly.
         "Beautiful," he finally said quietly and using her chin still, brought her lips to his. This first silent kiss was quick and soft. She was breathless, torn between the needs to run and stay. His hand traveled from her chin into her hair and brought her close again, this time savoring her touch, seeking the warmth of her tongue with his and surprisingly finding it. He was enjoying the taste of her kiss when he realized that she was kissing back. These unexpected reactions only provided more incentive to continue. His other hand found her waist and he swept her into his lap. His soft seeking became a passionate need to have more of her. He pushed up her shirt at her back so he could feel her smooth skin and even this was not enough. However, Laura pulled away and jumped up from his lap, standing a bit disheveled before him, rocking back and forth on weak legs while her eyes wildly searched the room.
         "I'm engaged," she said pitifully.
         "You want this," he answered.
         "I love James."
         "I love you."
         "I love James."
         "You love me too."
         "No...."
         She was slowly backing up toward the door, seeking a way out of her shame and confusion.
         He jumped up and once again pinned her against the door.
         "You love me, Laura."
         She knew he was still intoxicated but his face was very sober.
         "Nooooo....I can't...."
         He quickly kissed her, pulling her into it then pushing her away again.
         "You want this," he said seriously.
         "I want nothing," she insisted wildly. "And you're drunk."
         "True, but you aren't."
         She reached for the lock and he stopped her.
         "Tell me one thing. All these months since we were together, you didn't yearn for something more than James, something else? That you didn't stop and think what things would have been like had we been together like we should have?"
         She was silent, refusing to let him make her admit her fears and furtively wishing she could escape his scrutiny.
         "James is out of town. Stay with me," he said authoritatively.
         "No."
         "In the morning, if we are still wrong, we can forget this whole thing ever happened."
         "No."
         "If there is still doubt that you are meant to be with James...then, I don't know."
         "No!"
         "Dammit Laura! I'm not asking for your body, only time!"
         He kissed her again, quickly and passionately, seeking to tease her as she had unwittingly done for months.
         "Tell me you didn't like that and you can leave," he said testing her.
         "I didn't like it!"
         "Liar!"
         "STOP IT!" she cried and fought her way out of his arms. She stood in the middle of the room, seeking shelter of some kind. Her breath was coming in fast ragged gasps, and her vision was growing sharp. Her mind screamed danger but her body did not know how to respond. Instead of doing anything productive, she quickly became dizzy from the amplifying clarity of her senses. Her knees gave out beneath her and her world went dark.
         When she came to, she was once again lying in the cot, this time covered by a small blanket. The little room was significantly darker. Only the glow of the computer screen offered illumination. She was still considerably dizzy, but she was able to recognize the bandages on her arms. She was curious as to their origin. She looked around the dim room and spotted Josh sitting on the floor in front of the door, silently watching her, his face reflecting some of the monitor's soft light. His features portrayed his usual pained longing. When he noticed that she was awake, his eyes brightened but he did not move from his position as sentinel.
         "Good evening," he said quietly.
         "What happened?"
         "You fainted."
         "Oh..."
         Silence once again.
         "My arm?"
         "You cut yourself when you fell."
         "Oh."
         Silence.
         "I should go."
         "You need rest."
         "I can rest at home."
         "It's a long way home. Stay."
         "I can't. I shouldn't."
         "Stay a while. Go when you are stronger."
         Silence.
         "I don't know what to say," she admitted, wishing her nauseousness would fade.
         "You don't have to say anything. Rest."
         She looked away, staring at the ceiling. In just a few minutes, she faded back into unconsciousness.
         She woke up a few more times and he was still keeping his vigilant watch. In the early morning hours she suddenly awoke frightened and he was there beside her, stroking her hand and comforting her with tender words. The danger in her dream still gripped her: she was shaking with fear. She sat up and threw herself into his arms. He held her til the trembling subsided and her grip on his chest was less. She was asleep again. He laid her softly back on the pillows.
         When the alarm went off in the morning, Laura at first thought she was at home. However, when she reached out to hit the snooze button on her clock, she found nothing. Opening her eyes, she was surrounded by an unfamiliar room. Slowly the events of the past night came back to her. She groaned and struggled to get up. Josh came out of the bathroom humming and turned off the alarm.
         "Good morning," he said happily.
         "How is it that you're the one who got drunk but I'm the one with the hangover?"
         "No clue, but I sure am enjoying it."
         He walked over to her, smelling freshly shaved and showered, wearing only pressed khakis and white socks. A brief memory flash reminded her of the comforting warmth of his chest. He bent down and lightly dropped a kiss on her forehead.
         "You look amazing in my hangover," he said cheerily. He put on his shirt and began buttoning it up. She was glad. The emotions swimming in her mind were keeping her in a dizzy state.
         "Where are you going?" she asked while gripping her head in a futile attempt to stop the madness.
         "Work, of course. You are welcome to stay here if you want. You just can't leave after 10 a.m. Don't want the campers to see you and get ideas."
         "No, I'll go home."
         She stood up and attempted to straighten out the wrinkles and look presentable.
         "Are you coming back later?" he asked while adjusting his shirt collar in the mirror, trying not to focus on her.
         "I don't know," she answered truthfully.
         In the mirror, his curious eyes glanced at her.
         "What are you thinking of?" he asked smiling.
         "Everything. I came here last night to help you...but....."
         "Well, you did help me. All I needed was you." He turned around and smiled sweetly at her. She had never seen him so happy in all the time she had known him. He held out his hands and she used them to raise herself from the cot. When she was standing, he enveloped her in his arms and held her for a minute. She desperately tried not to think of how comforting it was. Her thoughts wildly ran through her mind a million a second. When he released her, she stood still for a second, then picked up her keys and walked toward the door, anxious for a place to be alone to think.
         "Wait!" he called to her. "Let me get my shoes on and I'll walk you out."
         She nervously played with her keys impatiently waiting.
         Finished, he walked toward her, and with his arm secure on her waist, they stepped out the door.
         "I'll call you tonight," he said while locking the door. His arm returned to its place holding her and they walked toward the lobby, using the same route that Paul had used when she had first gone to visit Josh. He did not look her. His gaze was confident and lazily focused on everything else.
         Her bike was just where she had left it. They stopped in front of it. He turned her around to face him and silently stared into her eyes for a few minutes. Then he quietly kissed her, an almost solemn kiss as if a testament to his love.
         "I love you," he said when he pulled back. He paused pleading God for a response.
         Laura remained silent, her face unreadable. He kissed her lightly and released her. She turned around and went to her bike. She disengaged the kickstand and walked out of the building silently, without looking back.
         Behind him, Josh heard a conspicuous cough. He turned around to see Paul standing.
         "Good morning," Josh said charmingly.
         "How are you feeling?"
         "Good. Great. Excellent."
         "What happened?" Paul asked, nodding toward the space Laura had just vacated.
         "I finally told her I loved her."
         "I thought she was engaged."
         "She is. Probably won't be for long."
         "You didn't..."
         "I didn't. Couldn't. She fainted."
         "That's generally not a good sign."
         "She faints a lot."
         Paul was silent.
         Josh put his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor, thinking.
         "How did she look?" he finally asked curiously.
         "Tired," Paul responded. "Tired and confused."
         Josh nodded.
         "You sure about this?" Paul asked him.
         "She loves me. I know it. I just don't know if she does." He sighed and his face cleared. "Come on, let's get to work. Campers will be here shortly."
         Outside, Laura was furiously pedaling toward the sanctuary of her quiet apartment. Tears poured out of her eyes, restricting her vision. She jumped off the sidewalk into the street. Her thoughts were as blurry as her sight. She dimly heard a car horn through her overcome senses. She clearly felt the jolt as the car hit her.

         Can raised above his lips, Josh suddenly gasped and threw it to the wall. Beer splashed over the concrete.
         "Dude, what happened?" Paul asked smiling.
         "Nothing," he said while he ran back to his room. He grabbed his phone first thing and dialed Laura's number. Impatiently he waited while the phone rang. His heart jumped when he finally heard her voice.
         "Hello?"
         "Laura?"
         "Josh, that you?"
         "Yes. Are you okay?"
         "A little bored but yeah, Josh. What's wrong?"
         He breathed a sigh of relief.
         "Nothing. Absolutely nothing," he lied.
         "Well now that I have you on the line, do you wanna come to my place for dinner some time?"
         "Yeah, sure. Anytime." He grimaced. She was fine but that also meant that she knew nothing of his feelings for her.
         "Great! I can finally wear my new skirt. You'll love it," she said teasingly.
         "I'm sure I will," he truthfully responded. "I have to go. Take care, Laura."
         "Always. You too. Have a good day."
         He hung up and fell on his cot crying. He wished he could get drunk and forget all about her but he was too afraid of the consequences. He could think of no way to tell her the truth. He closed his eyes, begging for an end to his pain.
         When his eyes opened again, he knew what he had to do. He wiped his cheeks with his hands and frowned. Until he could think of a way to tell her his true feelings, he would suffer quietly under her sweet gaze.
         He stood up, defiantly holding his shoulders back and fisting his hands.
         It was best this way.
         Her suffering was infinitely worse than his. Therefore she must not suffer.
         He walked to his computer and picked up a sketch he had completed of her recently. He lovingly let his fingers follow the line of her jaw and graze her drawn lips. Then he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash can. He left the room, headed for the park a few blocks away where he could think quietly.

         Laura was reading her favorite book when the phone interrupted her. She thought for a second to just ignore it and continue her reading but decided that hearing another person's voice, even that of a telemarketer, would be a welcome reprieve from the hours she had been spending alone reading.
         "Laura Fowler?" asked the masculine voice on the other line. She couldn't place the voice so she glanced at her caller id. She was instantly afraid when she saw it was the police.
         "Yes?"
         "We need you to come to the park. A Joshua Lowel is asking for you," explained the officer.
         "What happened?" she asked frightened of the answer.
         "He was mugged and shot. You'd better hurry, ma'am."
         She rushed out of the apartment and ran to the park 3 blocks away. The entire area was lit by police lights and surrounded by uniformed officers.
         "Where is he?" she asked scared.
         They showed her where he rested on a bed in an ambulance.
         "He isn't going to last much longer," one tall officer said solemnly. She jumped into the back and sat next to him, gripping his cold hand.
         "Josh?" she asked while tears began falling from her cheeks onto his blanket.
         "Laura?" he asked weakly.
         "Yes it's me honey."
         "Just wanted to say something before I go...." he said quietly.
         "Yes?"
         "I love you so much."
         She sat in shocked silence.
         "Laura?" he asked pitifully.
         "Yes, I'm here. I love you too honey," she told him while tears poured from her eyes.
         "I'm sorry..."he said fading into silence.
         "Josh?" she asked insistently. "Wake up Josh! PLEASE!"
         A medic on the other side of the bed felt for a pulse, and finding none, called for assistance. She was pulled from the ambulance, sobbing loudly.
         "JOSH!"
         She collapsed outside the vehicle, alone amongst the crowd while inside the van, paramedics desperately tried to revive their patient. Feeling the need to immediately escape, she got to her feet and ran, ran further into the park, away from the lights into the comforting darkness until she tripped and curled herself into a ball, crying wildly. She pulled a small knife from her pocket and snapping open the blade, held the cold metal against her wrist. She wanted nothing more than to end her pain but some other greater need stayed her hand. Her sobs slowly quieted and she threw the knife far from her.
         "No," she said aloud. "James. I can't hurt James like that." She stood up, her hands clenched tightly into fists, and walked back toward her apartment, a few errant tears tracking down her cheeks regardless of her resolve.
         In her heart she could feel a hard shell developing. Her pain must be kept in check. It was better this way.
         James's suffering was infinitely worse than her own.