Bring It On

“You look like you were hit by a truck!” Just inside the hastily shut front door to the apartment, Becky’s coat was forming an oily dishwater-gray puddle on the floor at her feet. Her yellow hair, clinging wet to her face, was dripping the same brackish gray bilge. Becky’s expression was flat. Her eyes, like blue thunderheads, peered angrily out from under lowered lids, and it looked comically as if they were raining mascara in dark rivulets down her cheeks.

Tyler bit back any further comments and moved to help her shrug off the heavy wet coat, hanging it up on the hook by the door for her as she set down her purse and kicked off her heels. "This," she flailed her hands in an exasperated gestured from her water matted hair to her pink painted toes on the puddled floor, "was just the perfect end to another terrible date."

Tyler could hear the shower running as he busied himself in the kitchen. Becky had rubbed Tyler the wrong way since she moved in. After his former roommate Brian had moved out, Tyler had barely been able to carry the rent alone. He was getting desperate when Becky was referred to him by a friend of a friend. Tyler had been hoping that he and his next roommate would have the kind of buddy dynamic he and Brian had enjoyed. With her boxes still piled up inside the door, Becky had groused about the blue paint on the bedroom walls. Then she had immediately scuffed that paint up, struggling to move her queen-sized bed frame into the room with her twin-size body. "I can do this myself," she had insisted when Tyler tried to help. Becky had covered up his armchair with a fleece blanket and buried his couch in throw pillows. A candle centerpiece now adorned his coffee table. The bathroom was filled with soaps and lotions. The smell of coconut and lavender was inescapable. The kitchen was awash in organic vegetarian this and that. He hadn't known how many nut-based milk varieties there were until Becky. She was constantly checking her phone. She was out late most evenings, and when she was home, she ignored him and watched TV. Loud. After day 4, Tyler had all but given up trying to have a real conversation. They had settled into just sharing space and nothing else. Now two months had passed like that. Still, he hated to see her having such a rough night.

Becky emerged from the bathroom wearing loose green sweats and a towel on her head like a white flag. But as she shuffled into the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards in defeat, she was greeted by Tyler holding red wine. "I poured some of that Merlot you like," he said, offering her a glass. She accepted with self-conscious hesitation. Tyler smiled reassuringly and nodded toward the living room where an episode from season 2 of Sex and the City played on the television. Tyler came and stood next to her as she surveyed the scene. Becky didn't seem to know what to do next. “Am I this predictable?” she asked. Tyler simply smiled and invited her to sit on the pillow bedecked couch, saying, "This does come with a price." "Is that so?" she said with an eyebrow arched. Still, Tyler thought he detected more curiosity than suspicion in her tone. “You have to tell me how you ended up coming home soaking wet on such a clear night." At this, she laughed, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance before collapsing onto the couch one cushion away from him.

The date had been so bad! The story started pouring out of her like a confession. She had arrived at the restaurant, not realizing that it would be almost uncomfortably expensive. Her hopes had risen a little when her date showed up, looking sharp and smiling confidently. But the rest of the evening, she was hardly able to get in a word as he talked about how much money he made, the impressive people he knew, and how many beautiful women he’d been out with. He ordered expensive-sounding food for the table and only seemed interested in her opinion on one thing: whether his profile pictures showcased his gains at the gym. She had felt as though her presence was barely required.

As she talked, Tyler topped off their glasses, and she unwound the towel from her head, letting her hair fall on her shoulders. He found himself engrossed in her story. She had a self-deprecating sense of humor that took the bite out of her criticisms and gave her listener permission to laugh at even the most frustrating parts of her night. Tyler laughed along with her as she recounted how she was afraid to pronounce anything on the menu that evening. He cringed when she told how, despite being a vegetarian, she’d gamely smiled through bites of the shellfish that her date ordered for her. Her date had flirted with the waitress and offered his opinion about which gyms were best near his work. Tyler was laughing and shaking his head in disbelief.

“I think he was genuinely surprised when I said I needed to be getting home" she was chuckling a little now too. "I ended up sharing a cab and let them drop me off at the corner." Becky had stepped from the cab saying a little thank you to the universe that the night was over and that she still had her dignity. She grazed Tyler with her hand as she threw her arms wide on the couch, demonstrating her thank you. “Then a bicyclist I hadn’t seen coming up behind me jumped the curb into the street to avoid my outstretched arms on the sidewalk, and a truck towing a boat swerved to avoid the bike and hit a big pothole! All this fishy water splashed up out of the boat like I was in the front row at Sea World!”

“No way! That didn’t happen!” His jaw was hanging open in disbelief. “I swear to God it did.” and they were both laughing.

Then Becky’s tone changed. “I must sound pathetic.” The laugh died in Tyler’s throat, and he looked over at Becky, her eyes cast down into her empty wine glass like she was afraid to look up.

“Not so fast!” he declared. “You do not have the market cornered on terrible date stories. Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself until you’ve heard what I went through last week”. Becky shot him a grateful sideways glance, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and squared her shoulders to face him. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrow in challenge. "Bring it on." This was a side of Becky Tyler had never seen before, and it sent a tiny ripple of electricity through him. "Is she flirting?"

That moment, the doorbell rang. "It's for me," Tyler said, hopping up and rushing out of the room. He returned carrying a pizza box, and her face lit up with a smile from ear to ear. He'd gotten the number of her favorite artisan pizza place from the magnetic sticker she kept on the fridge. “Veginami” was handwritten in sharpie on the magnet, and that is what Tyler had ordered.

Becky inhaled deeply as he opened the box and held up her hand for a high five. He smiled, and his thick palmed hand clapped her thin-fingered one. Becky bit into a slice of Veginami and moaned in satisfaction, relaxing into full slouch as she chewed. “Should I be here for this?” Tyler asked wryly. "Haha," she said around a mouth full. Swallowing, “I am so starved. Thank you.” Soon she took a second piece, and Tyler recounted the evening when an online date had double booked two guys.

The night had started well. They met at a distillery that she had picked out. The place was a little too full of hipsters that were a little too full of themselves, but his date looked just as ravishing as her profile pic; all dark hair and mischief. “This should be fun," he had thought.

Becky leaned over to pick up the remote from the coffee table, motioning for Tyler to continue as she shut off the TV. The room grew darker, so she lit the candle on the coffee table.

Tyler went on with his story. "We were a couple minutes into making some small talk when a man who I can only describe as tall, dark, and handsome walked up to our table and introduced himself as Jamal. Apparently, Jamal was there to meet her for a date they had arranged”. “I thought we were meeting tomorrow!” she had exclaimed. Chagrined, she apologized for the mix up saying she hadn’t meant for this to happen and didn’t want to snub either one of them. After an awkward moment, she shrugged, made a cute “oops” face, and tugged on Jamal’s sleeve to sit. “Don’t make it weird," she had joked so disarmingly that Tyler felt like it would be his fault if this was weird. As Tyler counted out the money for their first round, she gave him a flirtatious elbow nudge. "I only drink the good stuff," she said with a wink, and he pulled out more cash. And more cash and more cash as the night and the drinks continued. Jamal was an IT specialist who had maybe too much to say about skiing, and he seemed nice enough. Still, every time Tyler tried to get to know the beautiful woman he had come there to meet, she would coyly deflect his questions with a joke and go up to the bar to order everyone a shot. Just as Tyler’s money was about to run out, Jamal finally offered to buy a round. Their date was looking a little bored by Jamal's skiing stories, and Tyler was thinking maybe the evening was starting to go his way. But, when Jamal fished his billfold out of his pocket, his car keys had come out with it. The keys said Porsche. This elicited a squeal from their date. “Porsches are my favorite! You have to let me see it!” she said, jumping up from the table and trotting on 3” heels, pulling Jamal toward the exit. After 10 minutes, Tyler was starting to wonder if they were coming back. After 20, he knew they weren't, and he used the last of his money to book an Uber.

In the candlelit living room, the TV and phone went ignored. The cooling pizza sat forgotten. As Becky leaned toward Tyler on the couch, her folded knees touched the outside of his thigh. When she laughed, it was a sweet, chiming giggle that spilled out of her. When she shook her head in disbelief, her hand came to rest on his shoulder. As he arrived at the part about being ditched, he had tried to keep it light, but her face was grave. He kept a grin on his face and asked, “So now who’s pathetic?”

“Why didn’t you call me for a ride?” She lightly slapped his knee. “I would have picked you up.”

“Calling Miss Perfect for a favor would have been the final humiliating straw." Tyler’s playful tone couldn’t hide his self-consciousness.

“Miss Perfect? Oh you have me pegged so, so wrong," she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "If you really got to know what a hot mess I am every day, you'd never worry about sharing things with me again."

Tyler realized that sharing things with Becky was exactly what he wanted and that this was the best date he had ever been on. He smiled, squared his shoulders to face her, tilted his head, and raised his eyebrow in challenge. "Bring it on."