Shannen Camp - The Breakup Artist

“So I talked to Claire today,” I said cautiously, trying to nonchalantly play with the sugar packets on the table so that I didn’t seem interested in the conversation.

“Oh, yeah?” he replied, and I could automatically tell he was using the same carefully-not-interested tone as me. “How is she?”

“She sounded a little down,” I said with the slightest glance in his direction. He was staring at me intently, which caught me off guard. With his voice so distant and disinterested, I’d been expecting him to be doing some useless, distracting thing with his hands. Or I figured he would be looking at his placemat like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Instead, here he was, watching me. It made me nervous, instantly putting me on my guard so that I was doubly careful of my tone and expression. I returned my gaze to the sugar packed and pressed on. “I know this is personal but I thought you guys were really cute together. Why did you break up in the first place?”

On a normal date this would have been completely unacceptable territory to have stepped into, but I figured that by this point we both knew this wasn’t a normal date-he with his odd reactions to my behavior and me… well, just me in general. He kept his gaze focused on me as a slight grin crept over his lips.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he answered. And with that the subject was closed. For now. I figured I could just bring it up again later on, maybe once we got back into the car so that he wouldn’t have an escape from the situation. I nodded in understanding and pushed the sugar packet around the tabletop with my finger intently. “Since we’re talking about relationships though,” he began, instantly grabbing my attention. This couldn’t be going anywhere good. “How has your dating life been? I mean other than right now, of course? You said you just moved here from Pennsylvania, right? So I’m assuming you really haven’t dated much since getting here.”

I was beginning to wonder if David somehow knew what I did for a living. It seemed like every question he aimed at me was meant specifically to tear down my nerves until I broke down and spilled the truth to him. Unless these really were normal first-date questions and I was just way out of the loop.

“No I haven’t. I don’t really like to date. In fact, I’d rather be alone most of the time.” That’s right; I was going to cut this thing off before it got any worse. I’d just show him how unavailable I was, then suggest Claire again and get the heck out of there. “I’m kind of a social recluse.” I smiled brightly at him, daring him to ask any more questions that would hint at the real reason I was there. Surprisingly, he didn’t make a snide remark or try to ask me anymore unanswerable questions. Instead he put up his hands in surrender and smiled.

After he had graciously backed off, an awkward silence fell over us. Though this kind of thing normally didn’t bother me, I decided to give him a break since he had just done that for me. “So what kind of stuff do you submit to the local paper?”

He looked up at me as if he were surprised by my question but quickly composed himself and shrugged his shoulders. “A lot of different stuff, I guess,” he said noncommittally. “I’ve done some human interest pieces, and some opinion pieces… a few others but that’s about it.”

“That’s funny, because I would have pegged you for more of the ‘bearer of bad news’ type-obituaries, accidents, children getting little puppies stolen away from them-that sort of thing.” I grinned at him, feeling pretty proud of myself for my clever joke until I saw the look his face had taken on. His lazy smile instantly melted into that look that women get when you ask them if they’re pregnant when they’re definitely not. I couldn’t understand this reaction, and I was desperately hoping that he would crack a smile any minute and say “Gotcha!” but that didn’t happen. He just continued to look at me as if I had run over his dog until I couldn’t take his gaze anymore. I let my eyes drop to the pattern on the table, cleared my throat awkwardly, and muttered a quick “Sorry,” under my breath, though I had no idea what I was sorry about.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went the way most dates do. We got our food and I tried desperately not to splash red sauce all over myself. He asked about my favorite color and my favorite movie, both of which I lied about, since I didn’t really have a favorite anything. I asked him the same generic questions back, and when the bill came I offered to pay for myself even though I had no intention of actually doing that. I wasn’t even sure if I had my wallet with me. But he chivalrously paid and we left.

In the car it looked like he was heading back to my house, cutting our date short. I guess that meant I had at least succeeded in making myself unappealing to him, so that threat was out of the way. Now I just had to work on getting him back together with Claire, and I had a whole fifteen-minute car ride for that.

“Hey, David?” I started sheepishly, actually a bit wary of the conversation we were about to have. I didn’t want to have to do this, and I hadn’t really come up with some brilliantly subtle way of saying it, so it was going to be rocky.

“Yeah?” he said, turning a radiant smile in my direction. I ignored the fact that I actually wanted that smile to be for me and pressed on with my tactless plea.

“Will you please just do me a favor and call Claire? Just talk to her? I know it would make her really happy.” I was begging and I knew it. It wasn’t just the fifty dollars that I didn’t want to give up, it was my pride. If I couldn’t finish this job properly, it would be my first official failure. I didn’t think I could handle that label. I kept my eyes trained out the front windshield, afraid to see his reaction. There was a long moment of silence before I heard him sigh.

“Yeah, I’ll call her,” he promised quietly. I tried to keep my face smooth as the relief and happiness washed over me, mixing with the jealousy and anger that I was actually forcing this boy out of my life. The need to have him there was, I had to admit, completely shallow. I really didn’t know much about him except that he liked to write and he was extremely good looking. I didn’t even like blonds most of the time but his sandy hair looked beautiful when he constantly shook it away from his green eyes.

“Thanks,” I replied sullenly. He caught the unhappiness in my tone and looked over at me inquiringly, but I just let out a small laugh and waved away his unspoken question with my hand. When he got to my house I hastily got out of the car and said a quick, “Thanks for dinner,” over my shoulder. If I didn’t get right out and go right up to my house, I would probably do something else stupid, like tell him that I changed my mind and that he shouldn’t call Claire. Wasn’t I leading him back into an inevitably painful relationship with Claire just to save my pride? It was the exact same thing Claire was about to do to him. I began walking quickly to my door when I felt a hand close around my elbow and a figure appeared beside me. David smiled winningly at me and began the trek to my doorstep.

“I can’t very well let you walk yourself to the doorstep, now can I? That wouldn’t make me a gentleman.” I swallowed back the anxiety that was building somewhere inside me and nodded dumbly. I was sure it was a bad idea with my complete lack of censor today, but I figured that as long as I kept my mouth shut I’d be fine.

At the door I pulled my keys from my purse and smiled awkwardly at David. “Well, thanks. That was fun,” I said quickly, making it clear I just wanted to get inside and away from all of this confusion.