Chapter Nine

OLIVER

1996


It had been many months since Erica and I had found our friendship again. We met almost every other day and got together for coffee, or she came by my apartment and hung out. We would catch the latest movie, go to concerts, go to different art exhibitions or meet at Hemingway. We had picked up just were we had left off before our big fight. Well actually, just before that kiss in the treehouse.


“Olly!” she called as she stormed into my room. “My roomie is out of town and she said I could borrow her car if I needed to, right? Now, I know you said that was a bad idea. But I really needed a ride, and you weren’t available, sooooo... there has been a slight accident. In fact, it’s more like an incident... uhm, a tiny mishap,” she said and looked at me with big eyes.

“What did you do?” I asked, but I could already fill in the dots.

“Okay,” she continued carefully. “Well, it’s just an eeny, meeny, miny scratch on the—,”

“You didn’t,” I interrupted her. “I knew this would happen!” I scolded.

“Are you implying I’m a bad driver?” she asked defensively and put her hands on her hips.

“No, I’m not implying. I’m telling you! You are a terrible driver!” I said.

She sighed and threw her hands in the air.

“Well, anyway, I have to get it repaired before my roommate comes back and I was guessing... maybe I could borrow the money from our ‘journey jar.’”

“No. No way! You always do this, E! The last time you told me that that would be the last time. The money of the “journey jar” is just and only for that—our journey! I’m sorry but I have to say no to you. So here it is: definitely NO!” I stated.

“Pleeaaasse, Olly,” she pleaded. “I can’t ask my parents and I just don’t have it. I promise to replace it and even double it,” she said and put her hands together as if begging.

“Yeah right,” I snorted sarcastically, frowning at her. She looked at me with big goo-goo eyes and put on a pouty face.

I sighed. She was impossible to resist. “How much do you need?” I then said, and she smiled and hugged me.


The “journey jar” was invented on a short trip we had spontaneously taken to New York for a weekend. Erica had wanted to go to New York because there seemed to be some kind of art exhibition that weekend that she needed to see really badly, and I never said no to a trip to New York, so I offered we take the Scooby-Doo van.

It was one of those unplanned, Erica-style spontaneous trips that seem like a terrible idea but turn out to be a great adventure. We drove for about four hours, stopping only once for gas, and because we didn’t have money for a hotel we slept in the van, in the parking lot of a supermarket. We bought some water, bread and cheese for sandwiches and decided that it was best to spend the remaining money on beer and a big bottle of tequila. I put on the radio and then hauled the mattress out of the back of the van and lay it on the asphalt floor, just beside it. On the mattress she spread a thick blanket with all the pillows we had brought with us.

We lay there on the mattress looking up at the stars and taking turns drinking out of the tequila bottle. While we were enjoying the slight buzz it gave us, we decided that we were going to make a trip through Europe. She was overexcited about me agreeing to finally go with her and had it all figured out. We were going to take a couple of months off after college and we would backpack through the old continent. We planned out almost everything, except for the money aspect. That was going to be tricky.

So I came up with the “journey jar.” The jar would be placed on my desk in my room and we would each put in as much as we could during the month. It could be spare change, small bills, or anything we could afford. It would be like we were tipping ourselves. Then once in a while we would take the money out of the jar, count it, and put it with the rest of the savings in one of my drawers for safe keeping.

But alas, the “journey jar” was no success. Too often the money ended up as a last resource to buy beer, order pizza, or pay for her overdue library books or my cigarettes. From our total savings we paid for calamities like parking tickets, a phone being cut off, and, well I guess now, scratched cars. Anyway. I think after months of saving we had about a hundred bucks. That was about enough to go to the airport, park the van, eat a burger there, and drive back to campus.

During all the time we hung out, I tried many times to let Erica know how I felt about her. But I just couldn’t find the right moment. She was either dating someone or telling me about the asshole she didn’t want to date and I believed I had blown it by letting my rekindled relationship with her turn into one of her seeing me as some kind of asexual best friend she could always count on.

To be truthful, I just didn’t know how to tell her. I had no idea how she would react and was afraid she would reject me. So many times I would man up and make an attempt to tell her, but then chicken out at the last moment. It was pathetic.

What was even more pathetic was the lengths I would go to, to sabotage her dates. Every time she announced she was seeing someone I would panic and think of ways to disrupt whatever was going on between her and the new guy by deliberately being the third wheel, suggesting double dating, or even faking to feel ill, calling her up to ask her to come over with aspirin. For that last one she canceled her date and stayed the whole night with me.

My ultimate low was when she wanted me to meet this dude she had dated a couple of times and described as “simply perfect.” Greg was its name. She dragged me to this party he was organizing with some of his friends and introduced me to him. That whole night I had to endure watching her hang all over him and then she said they were going up to his room and for me to go ahead home without her.

As I walked back to my apartment I kept imagining what he was doing to her and I think I went a little insane. I can’t handle this, I thought, or God forbid lose her to this idiot. I then figured that desperate times called for desperate measures.

So when we had lunch the next day in some dive, while chewing on my club sandwich, I casually asked her how it had gone with Greg.

“I don’t kiss and tell, but, it was great,” she grinned blushing a little.

“Well, enjoy it while you can,” I said with my mouth full.

“What do you mean?” she asked sipping her Coke.

Without so much as blinking, I told her I had been talking to this girl at the party last night who claimed to be Greg’s ex-girlfriend and that she knew for a fact that Greg was gay. That he didn’t dare come out of the closet and wasn’t willing to talk about it with anyone else. He was having a rough time coming to terms with his sexuality. I surprised myself for how easy that all came out of my mouth.

That afternoon she broke up with him.

I still feel ashamed about that one.

But again, just as after we had kissed in high school, she seemed to be ignorant to it all — my childish efforts to keep her to myself and how I was desperately struggling with my feelings for her. How could she not notice? How could she be so unaware of the effect she had on me every time she touched me, hugged me, or playfully gave me a smooch on the cheek? And how could she not see that this situation was killing me inside?

Still in New York, we were lying next to each other, heads together. I listened to Erica while she kept on talking about the idea of our trip to Europe. The bottle of tequila was empty and we had switched to the cheap beer. The effect of that was that her tongue had gotten heavy and so had her eyes, for she had that dreamy look about her and blinked a tad slower. The alcohol level in my body was at that point where you are still sober enough to be master of your thoughts and actions, but you feel brave and willing to do anything, without questioning the consequences first.

I shifted, facing her and with my head resting on my hand I studied her beautiful face from the side. Then, with my other hand, I softly traced her profile by running my finger down her forehead, to the bridge and then the tip of her nose, and then I caressed her cheek slowly with the back of my hand. She stopped talking and turned to me. We lay there for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes and I could unmistakably see her expression grow soft. I then held her chin and caressed her full lower lip a couple of times with my thumb. She closed her eyes, enjoying my touch and then I leaned in to kiss her. My lips had barely touched hers when she slightly pulled her head back and opened her eyes again to catch mine for a split second. She gave me a little smile and then slowly turned away and lay on her other side. But instead of creating distance between us, she took my arm and pulled it across her while she pressed her back against me, snuggling in my embrace. “It’s really late,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah... tomorrow we have an early morning drive back,” I said, softly stroking her hair.

“Night, Olly,” she whispered.

I let go of her only to pull up the thick blanket to cover us. I then gave her a kiss on the temple, put my arm protectively around her once more and tried to get some sleep.

A couple of months later, we left Boston to return to Chester for summer vacation. It was a late Friday afternoon when we finished packing our suitcases and lifted them into the back of my van.

For some reason Erica had gotten it into her head that she wanted to drive, and after an amusing discussion it was decided that we would flip a coin to establish who would be making the two and a half-hour drive. The one behind the wheel would get to pick out the music and the copilot would be in charge of the snacks, and thus deciding which bag of chips or can of soda would be popped open next. I won the bet.

I stopped only once, when I needed to pee and it had just turned dark when I drove up her driveway.

“And... we’ve reached our destination,” I joked while turning off the engine. “I see your parents aren’t home. All lights inside are out.”

“Yeah, but they know I’m coming so they kept the porch light on for me,” she said. “I suppose you’re heading home now?” she asked.

“I told Mike I would meet him for a drink at O’Brian’s,” I said.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asked.

“Nah, I’m okay. Besides, it’ll be one beer, then I’m going home as well,” I replied.

“Okay. Well then, thanks for the ride. I’ll get my stuff out in the back,” she said smiling.

Fuck it, I thought, and before she could reach for the door I leaned in and kissed her. This was nothing like me, but I simply needed to. So I surrendered to this urge, without really thinking.

At first she hesitated, but a second later, I felt her relax and then she opened her lips for me and completely gave in to my kiss. I leaned in further, deepening the kiss and she put her hands around my neck, caressing and pulling my hair softly.

A groan escaped me. I had wanted to do this for so, so long. And I felt how all my bottled-up desire for her was finally finding some release. I let go of her mouth only to kiss her neck. She slowly lay her head back, resting it on the head support of the car seat and lifted up her chest toward me. I kept on kissing her neck, taking in her wonderful smell, while simultaneously unbuttoning her blouse. I caught her lips again, impatiently, while my hands freed her breasts. Then I looked down to admire the result, but just as I bowed my head to finally taste them, she softly pushed me away.

“Wait,” she said out of breath. “Please wait, Olly.”

“What... what’s wrong?” I panted, catching mine.

“Nothing is wrong,” she continued.

“Well then I...” I didn’t bother finishing the sentence and greedily went for her mouth again. I couldn’t get enough of her soft lips, and it seemed as if she had changed her mind for she opened her lips for me, giving me free passage to her warm tongue. But just like that she pushed me away once more, this time more determined.

“Olly, hold on. This is going too fast,” she said. I reluctantly let her go and leaned back with a sigh.

This was getting really frustrating. “What do you mean too fast? We’ve known each other forever,” I complained.

“Well that is exactly what I mean, Oliver,” she said, and she started buttoning her blouse back up. “Are you willing to risk our lifelong friendship for a moment of sheer... I don’t know... lust?”

I shook my head in disbelief. Sheer lust?

“No, of course not. But this isn’t just horniness or lust, as you call it?” I said. “It’s something much more, E. You can’t deny there’s always been something more between us. I mean don’t you think we should at least give it a shot and see where it goes? I don’t understand. I feel like you keep pulling me in, then pushing me away again.” I ran my hand through my hair in exasperation.

“I don’t know, Oliver. I mean, obviously, I am very attracted to you, but please understand. You are my dearest and best friend! Aren’t you afraid that if we do something in the heat of the moment it could ruin our friendship? Once we sleep with each other we will never be able to get back to what we have now. And I care way too much about you to risk losing you over this! Besides, what do you want to do? Have sex with me here? In your van? In front of my parents’ house?” she asked.

I was silent, shook my head again and then turned away, not wanting to look at her.

Somewhere in my head a voice was telling me she had a point and that she made sense, but my feelings were too hurt to think rationally. I felt she was toying with me, leading me on and then pulling away, and I simply couldn’t understand how she couldn’t see that we were perfect for each other.

“Please. Don’t be mad, Olly,” she said softly.

She took my face in her hands and forced me to look into her eyes. “I don’t think we should want to be more than friends. I like what we have now. I just don’t want to do anything we will regret.” She paused briefly and swallowed noticeably before continuing. “Listen, I’m leaving on vacation with my family tomorrow, but we’ll talk and sort everything out when I get back. Okay?”

I was disappointed and upset, so I just nodded.

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then fled out of the car.

As soon as I heard her shut the back door of the van, I started the engine and drove off without looking back.

I arrived at O’Brian’s fifteen minutes later and Mike welcomed me as he usually does, with a loud hoot-hoot and shoving a huge glass of beer in my hands. I wasn’t in the mood but tried to put on a smiling face anyway. After seven beers or so I felt the sting of what had happened between Erica and I begin to fade a little. I did what most idiots do when rejected in love, and kept on drinking until I couldn’t feel a thing anymore. No more aching in the soul, bruised ego or battered heart; just a drunken, anesthetized, numb body standing in the corner of the pub.

“Hey you,” a voice said.

I squinted my eyes to focus and recognized the face but couldn’t put a name on it.

“Hey,” I said.

“Wow, it’s been years. You’re in college right? How have you been?” the voice asked.

“Fine,” I said slowly.

The voice kept on talking but I was way too drunk to be able to follow the avalanche of words coming from her mouth. I think it rambled on for about an hour, or maybe it was more or maybe much, much less. Anyway, I remember participating in the conversation by nodding once in a while or saying “yep,” “nope,” or “you’re kidding” until the voice suddenly said, “You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?”

“Uhm... well, in my defense I’m pretty wasted right now,” I slurred.

She laughed and then stood on her toes to whisper in my ear.

“Tess. I used to sit behind you in English,” she said.

“Aha, I remember now. Sorry about that, Tess,” I apologized.

“You know, this must sound corny but I used to have a huge crush on you in high school,” she said.

“Really?” I raised one eyebrow. “I had no idea.”

“Well, everybody else knew, but I guess back then I was kind of shy,” she said and giggled.

“I see. So what? You’ve outgrown that now?” I asked with heavy tongue.

“Yes, I have.” She paused, and then unexpectedly pulled my head down to her mouth and kissed me.

I somehow was able to identify the alarm bell going off in my head, telling me that this wasn’t a good idea, but she was soft, tasted like some sweet cocktail and it just felt good, so I ignored the bells ringing in the back of my head.

We kept on kissing until she let go of my head, grabbed my hand and led me down a hallway. I stumbled a bit behind her but followed obediently. She then gently shoved me into a dark room, which was filled with crates, bottles and other supplies, and there she pushed me against the wall and continued the kiss she had started.

The change of atmosphere sobered me up a little, but I still went along with it — for the distraction, the attention, the ego boost. And from that moment I deliberately put my mind on zero and took the lead. I grabbed the back of her head while I intensified the kiss. And then I lifted her and sat her down on a stack of boxes. She frantically undid my pants while I hoisted her skirt up, and I don’t know if it was out of spite or to make myself believe that I didn’t care, but right there I gave Tess the thing Erica had not wanted of me.

It was over in a couple of minutes and Tess was holding on to me, catching her breath. I can’t even begin to explain how I felt about myself at that moment, but I guess the word that sums it up is disgust. I literally felt nauseated, and it wasn’t just because of the beer. I pulled up my pants and lifted her off the boxes. She looked for her panties as she straightened her skirt and her hair. I felt like I had to say something and was about to apologize for the way this had happened, when she lay her hand on my mouth and said, “Don’t say anything. You’ll ruin it,” and gave me a little smile.

“Will you walk me out?” she then asked.

I nodded.

She turned the knob of the door and we walked back to where all the buzz was. She picked up her bag and jacket and I took her hand while we walked to the front of the pub.

When we were outside I walked her to her car. She turned around and said, “Look. Is it okay if we just leave it at this? With no expectations and no regrets?”

“Yes. Of course,” I nodded.

She then smiled at me, gave me a kiss on the mouth, and before stepping inside the car, softly said, “Thank you, Oliver.”

As soon as her car left the parking lot, I bent over and threw up. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and headed back inside the pub, where I finally found Mike, kissing his girlfriend.

“Mike... I need a ride home,” I said. “I’m too wasted to drive.” I must have looked as miserable as I felt because he gave me one look, said the necessary good-byes to his girl and took me back to his pick-up truck.

“I thought you were hitting it off with that girl. What’s her name again? Tess, isn’t it? What happened, man?” he said while he drove me home.

“I fucked up,” I muttered.

“With Tess?” he asked.

“No, with Erica.”

Mike give me a confused look but I didn’t feel like explaining. I rested my head against the car window, closed my eyes and swallowed away the lump I felt in my throat.

I spent the rest of the vacation helping my father in the workshop. In the last years his lumber business had expanded enormously; he now had two extra divisions, one focusing on custom-made kitchens and the other handling the restoration, design, and construction of wooden houses. He had employed several more workers and even hired Susan, an old family friend, who was to become his long-time secretary.

Two of his carpenters had taken a couple of weeks off, so during the week I mostly helped out on the work floor, but I would often go up in the office and take a look at his house plans, suggest some modifications, and show him my own ideas and designs.

We worked well together and now and then he implied I should come work with him when I finished my studies. I then smiled but never gave him a concrete answer. It’s not that I didn’t like the idea; in fact, it was actually something I had always assumed would happen. But since I had found Erica again, I had started making plans of my own and if I wanted things between us to work out in some way, I couldn’t commit to coming home anytime soon yet.

On the weekends I went to the lake for a swim or fishing, and at night I would meet up with my old friends for a cold beer, a chat and good music. I went on a short camping trip with my brother and two more cousins, which also served as great bonding time.


The summer flew by and I was packing my stuff to head back to Boston when the phone rang. My mother yelled from downstairs that Erica was on the line. I felt a knot in my stomach but ignored it and picked up the phone in my room.

“What’s up?” I said with a flat voice. My feelings were still hurt and I knew I was being silly, but I just couldn’t help acting differently.

She paused, as if trying to gauge the atmosphere. “I’m good. How’ve you been?” she asked but didn’t quite wait for an answer and continued. “Look, I’m just checking if it’s still okay for me to ride back with you,” she said.

“Sure,” I replied. “But I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so...”

“Tomorrow is fine,” she said quickly.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at eight.” And I hung up, without asking her to get together for a drink that night, without asking if she had had a good time during her visit to The Netherlands, without even saying good-bye. It was really unlike me. But I mean... she had lead me on. Or hadn’t she? Anyway, she deserved it! But why? Because she wouldn’t sleep with me? Because she cared about our friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it? Dammit! I was being such an asshole about this! I had to talk to her. But, there would be enough time for that tomorrow.

The next morning I got there on time. I stepped out of the van and a second later the front door opened and she came out carrying a huge suitcase. Mrs. Johansson stood by the door and waved at me, smiling. I waved back, while Erica put her stuff in the back. Her mother, still standing in the doorway, blew us a kiss and then we drove off.

Erica sat stiffly in the passenger sit, her arms crossed, hugging her bulgy handbag. “Thanks for letting me drive back with you,” she said.

“Well, that’s what we agreed on, right?” I said.

“Right,” she answered quietly.

“Well, then I wouldn’t drive back without you, now would I?” I responded with slight sarcasm.

She looked at me, then rolled her eyes and turned her head to focus on the view outside.

For the next hour or so we said absolutely nothing. The silence was too stressful so I turned on the radio and concentrated on the road.

Suddenly she sighed loudly and abruptly turned the music off. “You see? This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, Olly! We haven’t seen each other in six weeks and you are still mad at me. So, what now? Now you are not going to speak to me anymore? Is that it? You are going to keep acting all weird because I didn’t sleep with you?!”

She was really upset and gave a long tirade about the value of friendship, men always wanting more than that and the downside of meaningless sex. She seemed to have given the whole thing quite some thought. Which pleased me, for it meant that I wasn’t the only one who had been pondering about the issue all these weeks.

“Okay, okay. I get your point,” I interrupted. “I’m stopping here for gas. Do you want something?” I asked, while I parked.

“Just some water,” she said quietly.

I turned off the engine, but before I stepped out I turned to her and said, “I hear what you are saying, E, I really do. But, what if two people, who have known each other their whole lives, and shared their happiest and saddest moments with each other... well, what if they just happen to make love, risking their friendship, but then find out that they were destined for each other all along. Wouldn’t that be worth it? Think about it, E.” And then I stepped out of the van to get her some water.


The rest of the trip was a drag. Besides the fact that we hardly spoke more than two words, I got a flat tire and had to pull over to change it. I realized that my spare tire was in even worse condition, so we had to walk to the nearest phone booth and call a tow truck. The guy seemed to have a good day of work because he kept us waiting for hours before he came and fixed the damn thing.