Expiration Dating Page 8

  I reached over and touched his hand.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I just hadn’t talked to her since I’ve been here, and I didn’t realize how much I missed her.”

  I nodded, my eyes fixed on my drink. It looked like I wouldn’t be sharing my story. But I was Andrew’s friend, and I was determined to cheer him up.

  “Look, Andrew that really sucks. I know that’s a shitty situation,” I said. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  After a few moments and another drink order, he continued, “It’s just, we knew it was coming all along. I met her when I was working at school. She’s a year older, and graduates at the end of this semester. It was never going to last past that. Not to mention I was going to Italy in January.”

  “Sorry for interrupting,” I interrupted, again not sorry at all. “Why did you guys even start dating?”

  Andrew looked at me, trying to gauge whether I was serious. After determining it was a legitimate question, he said, “We liked each other, it was fun. We knew it would end, but why wouldn’t we enjoy it while it lasted?”

  “Because then you have to say good-bye, and then this… THIS happens.” I said, flailing my arms at the table. “Why would you bring that upon yourself?”

  “How many boyfriends have you had?” he asked.

  “One,” I conceded. “We lasted over two years, when I was in high school. The break up was horrible, and I even knew that he wasn’t for me. I didn’t always admit it, but in my heart I knew it.”

  “That’s why I never dated afterwards. Why would I want to do that to myself? It’s better to just go on a few dates and not let things get serious. That way you have your fun, you still date, and there’s no hard feelings.”

  “But why, in the meantime, wouldn’t you want to date somebody?” he asked.

  “Because then you have to break up with them and feelings get hurt!” I felt like I was beating a dead horse.

  “But if they’re not right for you, then it doesn’t matter,” he said. “You date each other until someone better comes along, and then you move on.”

  I didn’t realize how loud my voice had become, “That’s terrible! How would you ever get married? Oh, sorry, honey,” I mimicked, “someone better has come along. Time to say goodbye!”

  “It’s not like that,” he said, fidgeting. He pushed his empty cup around the table. “I’m talking about in college. You hang out with someone, you’re friends, you start hooking up, and then it just turns into dating. When the situation changes, you move on.”

  “So – you’re saying you want a long term fuck buddy?” I asked.

  “Basically,” he said, leaning forward. I could tell he didn’t mean it and was just responding to my tone, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  We sat in more silence as we contemplated our first fight. It seemed like gaping rut between us. I was surprisingly upset; I had even forgotten about my reason for calling the meeting in the first place.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “It sounds like she meant a lot to you.”

  He nodded, accepting my apology. “I guess I just believe it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. It just sucks when it ends.”

  “How many people have you dated?” I asked.

  He thought back, “One long term in high school, but she turned out to be crazy. And then I guess I’ve dated people every three to six months or so since freshmen year of college. They’ve never really lasted longer than that.”

  I was floored. Our backgrounds were polar opposites. I couldn’t imagine having that many exes.

  “She sent me mail the other day.” He pulled a letter out of his pocket. “She loves horses.”

  He showed me all the stickers and drawings.

  “Mmm,” I said, a weird sensation forming in the pit of my stomach. I was pestering him about his ex, but I wasn’t sure I wanted physical proof she existed. “What was she like?”

  “She was…” he laughed, clearly remembering something I couldn’t see. “Passionate. We usually couldn’t make it home from parties, if you know what I mean.”

  “Is that right?”

  He smirked, “Yep, once we did it in a tree while our friends walked by. Talk about suspense. Or there was another time we did it in the back of a semi that was abandoned at the moment. We only realized later that it was lit up for the world to see.”

  He looked temporarily happy, but I felt guilty; I just couldn’t reciprocate his happiness. I chalked it up to the fact that when I looked back at my ex, I remembered a few happy times, pranks we played, but no real emotions. It was more like remembering a fond movie than anything else. I yearned for the feelings Andrew was expressing. He seemed to sense my unease and came out of his thoughts.

  “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about her anymore,” he said. He looked me in the eye, “Thank you for listening, though.”

  I nodded and laid money on the table to cover the drinks. The shiny money didn’t even make me stop to admire it today.

  “I should get going, anyways,” I said. He stood as well, and walked me out to the curb.

  “Do you want to come over?” he asked.

  I couldn’t do it. Andrew was clearly hurting, and anything he acted on now would be a rebound. Not that I wanted anything to happen, but still.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Not tonight.” I hugged him quickly, and hunched into my jacket, shuffling towards the metro without looking back. I could sense him watching me hoof it down the stairs, but he didn’t follow me.

  Emilia was waiting up for me when I returned. “How was the date?”

  “I don’t really wanna talk about it,” I said.

  Emilia put a hand on my shoulder. “My mom and I always do this to feel better.”

  She set the tea kettle on the stove, and left the kitchen. She came back holding something from her room.

  “Bananagrams; it’s like Scrabble,” she explained, laying the pieces on the table. Emilia spread them out like a fan and started counting out her pieces. I appreciated her not pestering me for details. I was grateful for her company.

  “Did you know Andrew’s ex-girlfriend?” I asked after laying down the word A-S-S.

  Emilia raised her eyebrows, and I wasn’t sure if it was in response to my question or the word I’d played. It was all I had. Plus, I still enjoyed trying to rile Emilia every opportunity possible; it was good for her.

  “I don’t know much,” she hedged, trying to feel out my reaction. I tried to be nonchalant, probably not succeeding. She looked up from her play, Z-Y-M-O-L-O-G-Y. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, rolling my eyes. I might as well quit now. “I met him for a drink after the date tonight, and he talked about her a lot. I was just wondering what type of girl Andrew goes for normally.”

  “You know him better than I do.” Her meaning was clear.

  “Bananagram!” I shouted. I didn’t really understand the game.

  “No. What? Wait.” Emilia bent to examine the pieces.

  “Can we call it a tie?” I begged. “I’m feeling a lot better now.”

  As much as I appreciated her friendship, I just wanted to be alone. I needed some time to process.

  “Of course.” Emilia clattered around moving the cups to the sink.

  “Thanks, Emilia,” I said. She gave me a much needed squeeze, and I headed to my room, running into the edge of the table on the way out.

  “Watch out for the table.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I never called Giuseppe back. However, over the next few days, Andrew and I worked on recouping our buddy status. A few days later, things were back to normal, and we were sprawled on the couch at his apartment, browsing the internet and laughing over the line about being smaller. He eyed me up and down.

  “I don’t see any fat on that bod,” he said, seeming to regret it instantly. I was flattered that he would try to make me feel better. It was also the only lie I’d had ever heard him tell. I let him off the hook
, changing the subject.

  “I want to live here.” I pointed, drooling over a photo of Fiji, the water a brilliant blue on the computer screen.

  “This is where it’s at.” Andrew set his finger on some mountain in Africa.

  “I’m going to Egypt for my birthday,” Vince said from the other room.

  “I don’t want to wait until your birthday,” Andrew shouted to Vince. “Why don’t we go somewhere this weekend?”

  “Right,” I rolled my eyes. “Just pick up and go.”

  “Why not?” Andrew said. “We live in Milan, travel hub of Europe. There are cheap flights everywhere. Look here.”

  He pulled up Ryan Air’s website, the cheap European plane system. The airline got you places for minimal money, but I’d seen their planes, and they looked like they could hold maybe four feathers and a kid before falling apart.

  “We could do,” Andrew calculated quickly in his head, “an entire weekend in Sardinia for two hundred Euros.”

  “I’m in!” Vince yelled.

  “Am I invited?” I asked, inviting myself.

  Andrew nodded. “Of course, we’ll ask Josh and Greg, get everybody in. It’ll be a blast.”

  So it was settled. We were going on our first trip outside of Milan. Andrew and I bought our tickets then and there, while the others agreed to buy them that evening. I danced around the living room.

  “We’re going on vacation,” I sang.

  “Calm down,” Andrew said. For people like him, traveling was not a big deal, he had been everywhere already. However, this would be the third flight of my life, and I literally couldn’t contain my excitement. I announced that I was going to go tell Emilia and bounced out of the apartment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Ready for the weekend?” I asked Andrew when he arrived to class the next morning. I had been up early, brimming with anticipation for the weekend trip.

  “Dana,” Andrew started. Dread filled my stomach.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It’s not bad,” he amended, “not really. It’s just that the other guys didn’t end up buying their plane tickets. Vince found out about a last minute exam and Greg made plans with friends coming in from out of town.”

  The realization that it was now just Andrew and I sank in.

  “Did you want to get a refund?” I asked. “We could go a different time, when the others are free.”

  Andrew must have heard the disappointment in my voice. “Absolutely not. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it. I just wanted to run it by you.”

  “Of course, buddy.” I smiled.

  Friday morning rolled around, the day of the big trip, and I was up early. I had everything packed, and for the first time ever was ready before Emilia.

  As we split ways to go to our different classes, she said goodbye. “Be safe, be smart.”

  “Okay, Mom,” I said.

  In class Megan reached over and put her hand on my bouncing leg. “You’ll be OK. Sit still, please?”

  Andrew overheard and grinned. “She can’t wait to get me alone.”

  Megan had been briefed on our relationship. She knew we were friends, that I wasn’t looking for anything in him, and he was hung up on an ex. Megan, however, was much more vocal than Emilia.

  “Andrew’s cute,” she would say. “What’s wrong with being a rebound? That way you get all the good stuff and none of the strings attached.”

  Megan’s viewpoint was clear, and she certainly followed her own advice. I crossed my arms, giving her a look. I quieted my leg, though my stomach was twisting and turning in excitement. A vacation! I couldn’t believe it.

  “It doesn’t take much, does it?” Andrew said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “To get you excited.”

  I tried to decide whether there was an innuendo hidden in the phrase. I smiled.

  “You don’t even know.”

  After class, Andrew and I dragged our suitcases through the metro, across the city, and past security at the airport. Andrew got patted down and checked a few times, while I whizzed past.

  “It’s so much easier to be a girl in this city,” he grumbled, casting dark glances at the offending officers. The Carabinieri were too busy staring down the shirt of the next girl in line. I shrugged.

  Andrew let me have the window seat on the plane; I think he could tell how thrilled I was to be flying somewhere, anywhere. A more seasoned traveler, he liked getting places and didn’t enjoy the process of getting there anymore. Going to school out of state had taken the fun out of traveling for him.

  I felt the engines kick into gear, and I unconsciously reached for Andrew and rested my hand on his leg. He didn’t move it, and I left my palm there while we were taking off. I wasn’t scared of flying, but it felt nice to have reassurance just in case. As soon as we were in the air I removed my hand, glanced at him, and blurted, “I have something to tell you.”

  “Mmm,” he said, his eyes already closed, one earphone plugged in.

  I leaned over and whispered, “I still have my V-Card.”

  I waited, watched for his reaction.

  “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  “I have my v-card,” I emphasized impatiently. “It means that I… I have never …”

  “I know what it means,” Andrew said. “Why are you telling me?”

  “I just wanted to be honest,” I said. “I mean you and I are going away on a weekend together, and I didn’t want you to expect anything.”

  “Okay,” Andrew shrugged. “I didn’t.”

  “Right,” I mumbled, looking back out the window.

  We were getting ready to prepare for landing an hour later. Andrew and I had spoken a few times, but it was a pretty quiet flight. I stared out the window most of the time, watching the waves and clouds rush by. “Are you surprised?”

  Andrew considered a moment. “A little, I guess.”

  I nodded. The fasten seatbelt light came on, and we began our descent. Shortly after landing, Andrew and I disembarked, made our way to a cab and found our hostel. We were staying in the same hostel but in separate rooms because it was much cheaper that way. It also would have been a little assuming to book a room with only one bed. We changed, freshened up, and met each other in the lobby.

  Sardinia was gorgeous; stunning, in fact. We hiked up old ruins, saw an ancient, well maintained castle perched above the town, and ate lunch with our feet dangling in the Mediterranean Sea. We chatted over a picnic of fried zucchini and local fruits as we stared out at all the boats. I held my hands up to Andrew after I finished, showing him the oily skin on my palms.

  “I need to wash this deliciousness off,” I said.

  “Good thing there’s water two centimeters in front of us.” He put his hands on my waist, pretending to push me over the ledge.

  “Yeah, yeah, good thing there’s also stairs.” I got up and made my way around to the stairs. I started down, not realizing the stairs were slick with salt water. Before I knew it, I was skidding down the flight, the water rushing up to meet my face, landing at the bottom of ten stairs, waist deep water. I looked up, in shock, and saw Andrew rolling on the ground laughing.

  “You should see your face!” he bellowed, amid peals of laughter. He couldn’t breathe he was laughing so hard. He didn’t even notice the Italians stopping to see what was happening. Meanwhile, I realized the only thing not wet was my hands; ironic since they were the only body parts I wanted wet in the first place. I quickly washed them off, trying to maintain some sense of dignity.

  I started climbing back up the stairs, very slowly, “That’s one way to get into the Mediterranean for the first time.”

  Andrew paused in laughter and glanced at my face to see if I was serious.

  “That was your first time, ever, in the Mediterranean?” he asked. I nodded. This started another round of laughter lasting longer than the first.

  “Ok, play time’s over.” I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
I had jeans on and Ugg boots; it was March after all, and I needed to get out of my clothes. I started on the path back up to the hostel, Andrew following close.

  “You look good all nice and wet,” he said in a pseudo sexy voice.

  “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” I said. I was losing my patience because by this time my shoes squeaked every time I moved.

  “I’ll wait outside,” he said as we reached the door. “Unless…”

  “I’ll meet you outside.” I yanked the handle… squelch, squelch, squelch…

  I felt much better after a warm shower and fresh clothes. The only downside was I had brought only a single pair of jeans, a few tops, and a dress to wear in case we went out at night. Since wearing a shirt without pants wasn’t a viable option, I was stuck in the dress for the rest of the trip.

  I walked outside and looked for Andrew. I heard a whistle behind me. I turned around slowly, making a show of twirling my dress. Andrew sat lounging at the café next door, looking like quite the stud with a fresh tan, khaki shorts, and a pale blue button up open at the top and rolled up at the sleeves.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked. I explained my clothing dilemma and he winked, “I thought you just tried to look nice for me.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat down across from him. We ordered a snack and a coffee. After making small talk, we realized it was almost time for dinner. The two of us got up and took a stroll around the city, admiring the authenticity and sheer age of most of the buildings. As the sun set, we ignored the dangerous sign and climbed onto the roof of the castello. We cracked open a bottle of the local vino, and together marveled in the absolute, pure beauty of the sunset. I had never seen anything so perfect. I was feeling warmed by the wine, content after a day spent exploring outside, and cozy after a nice long shower.

  “This is perfection,” I whispered. Andrew simply nodded. He took my hand lightly without saying a word. He took a swig of the bottle, and I watched as he stared out over the horizon, wondering what he was thinking. He caught me staring and flashed a brief smile. I was struck by a realization that two people from the same country, same state, rather, had to travel halfway around the world to meet. It seemed pretty crazy.