Page 30 of This I Promise You
“Okay.”
Paul
Pancakes and Waffles and Syrup
“Fuck,” I huff, pulling into the farthest parking space I can find from the entrance. I turn off my car.
Huxley asked me to meet her here but didn’t give any context. I’m still pissed at her for what she pulled this past weekend, but I can’t avoid her forever. I mean, I could. But I know I shouldn’t.
I open my door to head inside Waffle House and Huxley is sitting in a corner booth fiddling with the table condiments. She actually looks nervous and my heart softens a little. She’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie today. It’s far too big for her, but the juxtaposition of her Ariana pony and forever flawless makeup is a nice touch. And she’s wearing heels. Of course.
I slide into the seat in front of her. “What am I doing here, Huxley?”
She startles and I bite back a smile. “I thought maybe we could call a truce…over some carbs.”
“Is this you deciding what Ineedagain even though you know I try to avoid carbs?” I really don’t know why I have to be a dick sometimes. It just comes out. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Shit. No,I’msorry. It’s okay. I deserved that. I wasn’t thinking. I just thought… When I was a little girl and I had a…bad day, my parents would take me to Waffle House because they said, ‘Waffles and pancakes and syrup always make everything better.’ I know that’s obviously not the truth because life is a bitch and waffles and pancakes can’t actually fix…well, anything really. But I like to try at least. They’re—”
“They can fix an empty stomach?” I offer.
She smiles her perfect toothy smile. “Yeah, they can. They’re comforting, ya know? But you don’t have to eat them. I just wanted to talk…and apologize.”
The past month has been wild. We have truly become like family. We’ve had a blast. We’ve laughed and joked and watched far too muchSchitt’s Creek. We’ve made dinner together and played games. We’ve gone on drives around town to blare music and sing at the top of our lungs. I’ve even gotten her to come to the gym with me a few times. We’ve had so much fun, but we haven't really gone much deeper than that. Not outside that one night. But I sense that is about to change. Things are about to change, and I think it’s needed. So I don’t say anything. I let her talk.
“My whole life, I’ve always been looked at as ‘too much’. Too dramatic, too over-the-top. I’ve had friendships and relationships fall apart because I can be…a lot. I know I’m a lot. I know this. And I don’t mean to be and sometimes I can’t control it. I’m an Aries, a triple fire sign. I’m fiery and passionate and opinionated. I love strongly and deeply. And it all can come off as…selfish or self-righteous or self-indulgent? I don’t know. That’s what I’ve always been told. But that’s notme. I’m misunderstood.”
Huxley pauses, not looking at me. She glances at the table, fidgeting with her hair. Then she finally meets my eyes. “You have no idea what it’s like being a mixedandbisexual woman. I’m not white enough for white people or black enough for the black community. I’m not gay enough for the LGBTQ+ community and not straight enough for the straights. I have mild ADHD and Type II Bipolar Disorder. I’ve been on medication and have gone to therapy my whole life. Everything about me shouldn’t work, shouldn’t make sense.
“But I promise you, Paul, I was just trying to help. I know I overstep sometimes, but I’ve grown very fond of you. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have a lot of friends. Actually, my last BFF and I just went through a really bad friend breakup over winter break. It was really messy and it’s been a bitch to get over.”
“I…I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, Huxley.” How did I miss all of this?
“It’s cool. I have my theater friends and my art friends but we’re not close. I just saw you that day in the hall and…I don’t know, there was something about you. And now you’re kinda my best friend even though we aren’t exactly on that level yet… But…I want to be. You’re cool as hell and dress so much better than I originally thought. You’re smart and insightful. You’re a thinker and it’s nice to know someone who’s deep, ya know? We’re kindred spirits, you and I. I can sense your soul and…I-I don’t know. I like it. Just…please forgive me, Paul? Please? Because I… I can’t lose you too.”
I let Huxley finish saying what she needed to say. I feel like it’s important for her to get it all out without being interrupted. But I honestly don’t know how to respond or what I should say. She’s amazing. Clearly. And I would never judge her. For any-fucking-thing. But what do I say?
She’s waiting for an answer, expectant. I move to stand and her face falls. She thinks I’ve given up, but really I just want to hug her.
“Come here,” I say before she gets the wrong idea. Tears fall as she exhales. She stands and I wrap her in the warmest, biggest hug I can muster. I may not know what to say, but I can show her. She hugs me back and, to be honest, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been held like this. I didn’t know it was somethingIneeded.
I’ve never been a lovey-dovey kinda guy, but I think she may give the best hugs.
“Thank you, Paul. Thank you for being my friend.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Huxley. But you’re welcome.”
“Now, let’s eat. Or I’ll eat and you can have an apple or something.”
“Ha. You’re funny,” I deadpan as we sit back down. “Nah, I’m already here. Might as well eat some waffles. ’Cause let’s be honest, waffles are 1,000 percent better than bullshit pancakes.”
“Don’t you dare! I will fight you right here, right now. Pancakes over waffles any day.”
“Ha! I beg to differ as we sit here in aWaffleHouse.”
“Semantics,” she pffts.
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