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Authors: Sarah Lassez
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myself. Jonas was actually a really good-looking guy, but I valued him to the point that my only concern was keeping the seal on our friendship. You break that seal, things can go bad in a hurry.
Poor Jonas. If he’d harbored any expectations of a romantic Valentine’s Day, he’d been sorely mistaken.
During the last years of college, and the couple of years right after, Gina lived with her father, an artist with a great house in a hip community called Silver Lake, not far from where I lived. Though she adored him, and he was actually friends with just about all her friends and threw parties people talked about for years, she realized it was perhaps time to leave, to stumble from the nest and find a place of her own. And though I’m sure much of her decision had to do with independence and growth, I also suspected much had to do with her insane urge to decorate, an urge that had been rather stifled, since she’d been confined to a ten-by-ten-foot bedroom.
The answer was for us to find a new place and be roommates. After all, two cats (three if you went by mass alone, since China should surely count as more than one) had turned my studio apartment from charming to suffocating, and the idea of actual living room furniture had an irresistible appeal. Almost immediately we stumbled upon a great two-bedroom apartment not far from her father’s house, an older building with a fantastic view of the city and a rather drastically sloping living room floor. Since we’d figured we’d be dateless, we’d thus opted to move on the devil’s holiday, aka Valentine’s Day.
Amid grunts of “Be careful” and “Shit, this is heavy,” I began to look at Jonas in a different way. He actually had some very nice muscles, and because it was a hot February, I was getting a full display. “Would you grab that?” I’d ask, then pause discreetly to watch him stoop to pick something up. Hmm. “And that, too?”
The day skidded into night, and soon we had everything stacked and shoved into our new place. Jonas offered to hang a few paintings in my room, an offer I jumped at not only because of my strange inability to hang anything straight (I could be equipped with a level and a tape measure and still hang things as if I’d been on crack) but also because I got to lie on the bed and watch as he reached and stretched, hammered and hung.
Just as he finished with the last nail, we caught it…very soft, barely audible. The sound of Gina in her room, crying. Jonas turned to me. First, I’m sure he was shocked that Gina cries, as picturing her in a vulnerable moment was a little bit like imagining a blizzard blanketing the Sahara. Second, I think we both were a bit horrified at how thin the walls were. That, we both knew in a way that made me blush, could be problematic.
“I need to spend some time with her,” I told him. “She’s a bit freaked out. You know, first time on her own and all.”
Of course Jonas understood. I walked him downstairs, but at the door he hesitated, lingering as if trying to remember if he’d left something behind.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Already I was picturing the mess in my room. Anything he’d forgotten wouldn’t be unearthed till May. I hoped it wasn’t important, because it was as good as gone. “What?”
“This,” he said, and leaned in…and kissed me.
3
Finding My Sparkle
BEING IN LOVE IS LIKE WEARING AN IMPENETRABLE cloak of happiness, like sleeping on clouds, like discovering unused gift certificates in your wallet. My joy was out of control. Every ex I’d ever had and every actress who’d ever gotten the parts I’d wanted could all have moved in next door, yet still I’d be smiling. Not even the fact that China was more disgruntled in our new apartment, and hence more focused in her “gift giving,” could upset me. Jonas loved me, and that was all that mattered.
One of the first things I did was call Aurelia, who revealed she’d had a feeling he
Poor Jonas. If he’d harbored any expectations of a romantic Valentine’s Day, he’d been sorely mistaken.
During the last years of college, and the couple of years right after, Gina lived with her father, an artist with a great house in a hip community called Silver Lake, not far from where I lived. Though she adored him, and he was actually friends with just about all her friends and threw parties people talked about for years, she realized it was perhaps time to leave, to stumble from the nest and find a place of her own. And though I’m sure much of her decision had to do with independence and growth, I also suspected much had to do with her insane urge to decorate, an urge that had been rather stifled, since she’d been confined to a ten-by-ten-foot bedroom.
The answer was for us to find a new place and be roommates. After all, two cats (three if you went by mass alone, since China should surely count as more than one) had turned my studio apartment from charming to suffocating, and the idea of actual living room furniture had an irresistible appeal. Almost immediately we stumbled upon a great two-bedroom apartment not far from her father’s house, an older building with a fantastic view of the city and a rather drastically sloping living room floor. Since we’d figured we’d be dateless, we’d thus opted to move on the devil’s holiday, aka Valentine’s Day.
Amid grunts of “Be careful” and “Shit, this is heavy,” I began to look at Jonas in a different way. He actually had some very nice muscles, and because it was a hot February, I was getting a full display. “Would you grab that?” I’d ask, then pause discreetly to watch him stoop to pick something up. Hmm. “And that, too?”
The day skidded into night, and soon we had everything stacked and shoved into our new place. Jonas offered to hang a few paintings in my room, an offer I jumped at not only because of my strange inability to hang anything straight (I could be equipped with a level and a tape measure and still hang things as if I’d been on crack) but also because I got to lie on the bed and watch as he reached and stretched, hammered and hung.
Just as he finished with the last nail, we caught it…very soft, barely audible. The sound of Gina in her room, crying. Jonas turned to me. First, I’m sure he was shocked that Gina cries, as picturing her in a vulnerable moment was a little bit like imagining a blizzard blanketing the Sahara. Second, I think we both were a bit horrified at how thin the walls were. That, we both knew in a way that made me blush, could be problematic.
“I need to spend some time with her,” I told him. “She’s a bit freaked out. You know, first time on her own and all.”
Of course Jonas understood. I walked him downstairs, but at the door he hesitated, lingering as if trying to remember if he’d left something behind.
“Did you forget something?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Already I was picturing the mess in my room. Anything he’d forgotten wouldn’t be unearthed till May. I hoped it wasn’t important, because it was as good as gone. “What?”
“This,” he said, and leaned in…and kissed me.
3
Finding My Sparkle
BEING IN LOVE IS LIKE WEARING AN IMPENETRABLE cloak of happiness, like sleeping on clouds, like discovering unused gift certificates in your wallet. My joy was out of control. Every ex I’d ever had and every actress who’d ever gotten the parts I’d wanted could all have moved in next door, yet still I’d be smiling. Not even the fact that China was more disgruntled in our new apartment, and hence more focused in her “gift giving,” could upset me. Jonas loved me, and that was all that mattered.
One of the first things I did was call Aurelia, who revealed she’d had a feeling he
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