When We Were

by Diana Elliot Graham

“What’s a better word for cock? And please don’t say ‘member’ again.”

As soon as I pose the question, my mind drops me back in time to my own breakup sex scene. The only one I have.

My throat tightens at the idea that our breakup didn’t have the same impact on him.

More than anything, it was based on the time away from who we were all those years ago when we were together.

Dredging up old love can be a slippery slope, and in all the years since, we’ve preserved this friendship by staying away from that edge.

We have known each other a long time, and I have no regrets about where we ended up. Only now that you spent half your life thinking I dumped you.

I laugh far more than I ever actually mean to. Nothing is ever as funny as the frequency of giggles, chuckles, or faked hysterics truly implies.

“I know. My name is Arden, by the way. For the next time you need to scream for me across a room.” “I think it’s more likely you’ll be screaming for me...”

Where I am light, he’s the opposite. My eyes are bright, my hair is tones of blonde, some enhanced, some natural, not too dissimilar to my personality.

His eyes are almost cat-like, dark irises surrounding even darker pupils. They are mischievous but piercing in a way that I find instantly intriguing. His skin slightly bronzed, the remnants of a summer tan.

“I like the shirt, AR-DEN, but I’d prefer it if it wasn’t false advertising.”

“Let’s get lunch.” His teeth peek through a half smile, as the corner of his mouth pulled upward like it was tied by string to the eyebrow he cocked at me for a second time in question.

“You’re mighty quick to jump on my ego.” “Consider it the only thing of yours I’ll be jumping on, Josh.” “You see, I knew it was false advertising.”

I was excited to hear from her as I usually was, but nothing could have prepared me for what she said.

there. I asked for closure because I thought that was all you would give me. And when you did, I thought that it was a goodbye from you.

Who was I to grovel for forgiveness for something I didn’t do? Even though as it turns out, maybe, somehow, I fucking did.

And it left me with two painful thoughts. One, I didn’t dump her. Two, these are very different from the three words we used to say.

I meant what I said, I don’t regret where we ended up. Keeping in touch over the years. Our friendship. But this idea that she had any doubt about how I felt? That I regret.

“Got you my usual. I can tell we have a few things in common, and this will be a good test.” “Are you in the habit of testing your friends?” “How do you think they become my friends?”

“I wouldn’t say we know each other.” That’s a lie. The more time I spend around him, the clearer it becomes. Every action, every mannerism, every time he called me Miami rather than my name. I knew him.

Josh wraps his hands around my ankles and pulls them gently to extend them into his lap, stretching my legs out across him to indicate he doesn’t mind the invasion of space, in fact he welcomes me into it, laying his arm across the exposed skin of my legs.

And with that, his dark eyes sharpened, something fiery and bold behind them. I saw it then, how ambitious he was. And some of the darkest parts of me related to it.

And secondly, I’m not looking for anything else–nothing that requires commitment, at least.” “Is that so? Lucky for me, I’ll be seeing you in some of these, Miami.”

Catching the attention of our new classmate, Josh blows him a kiss with one hand and drapes his other arm around my shoulders pulling me close.

“What are you doing?” “I just spent all this time warming up this spot, so I’m staying.”

he and I could be a dangerous pair. Combustible.

“It’s all just noise, you know. It’s just deflection, entertainment. I’m a terrible flirt, and it might get me into a little trouble, but me and you, we aren’t going to be anything more than friends.” “That’s where you’re wrong, Miami. You’re an excellent flirt, and we’re going to be best fucking friends.”

“I thought you were only going to jump on my ego, Arden.”

Number three, and most importantly, I’m sorry you had any question about if it was “all bullshit.” None of it was, AB. I’ll amend my earlier email to include that as a regret.

We had a complex dynamic that no one got, and that’s fine for me, because I make a point of preventing people from getting me. And when I do let them get me, it’s whichever part I am willing to expose, usually only skin deep, whichever part they are in search of.

“Jesus, Miami. Why do you look like that? I’m not breaking up with you.” “I am just thinking how I would feel if someone said that about me.”

“If you want to enter with him, Miami, or anyone else here, good luck. But if you want to win, and I know you do. Remember, I’m the one who knows you.”

“Josh, this isn’t one of those moments, you know.” “What moments?” He takes a pull from a beer that someone must have handed him in congratulations as we walked off stage. “You know, like where the main characters fall in love.”

“This whole thing is just too good to be true. It’s the second chance romance that needs writing.” “Well lucky for me, I’m best friends with a bestselling author.”

“Yeah. I loved him. Whatever that even meant to me back then. Whoever I was... yeah, I loved him.” I take a slow steading breath as I think about it. “I just don’t think I always made it easy for him to love me.”

We’ve had about three-thousand miles, fourteen years, and a big fucking misunderstanding between us. We didn’t just end up on different sides that night, we ended up on different sides of the country, different sides of our lives.

‘Only time I got dumped.’ Well, glad to reset that score for you, baby. You are officially undefeated. A lot of good it does now. me: Please. Stop saying you were dumped. You were not dumped. It makes me fucking furious.

me: Arden, imagining how you felt, is what makes me fucking furious.

I watch waiting for the message to say delivered. Instead, the blue text bubble turns green. She doesn’t answer.

Some people find pen annotations in books to be sacrilegious, others treat them as gospel. To me it feels like the most intimate way to read. Like a blood oath between reader and book.

“If we’re going to be sitting next to each other, I should introduce myself. I’m Reid.” He extends his hand across the empty chair between us.

“Although, Arden, I did show you mine.” And the shape of his mouth shifted to something more playful, suggestive.

With a look down back to me, his eyes billowing smoke into mine, “I don’t know her well enough to tell you yet, but I hope to find out.”

“This is Bardock Books. It was the first thing I thought of when I saw the copy of Bronwyn’s book, the one you annotated. The books here are all used, and many have annotations just like yours. Find the right one, and it can be like reading someone’s journal.”

“We might be playing for a while then...” “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

won’t need to keep score to know if I’ve won, because if I walk away from this table knowing you more than I do now, it won’t matter how many points I have.”

“Alright, AB, you’re up.”

I shake my head, and move away the three tiles he added, replacing the I-N-G with an E-D, changing the word from INTERESTING to INTERESTED. As I did, I felt a nervousness I don’t usually when flirting. I am bold.

“Is this all just a ploy to get me back to your apartment tonight?” “Arden, you’re welcome to come back and spend the night right now, don’t think I won’t enjoy it. We can order dinner, we can play another game, watch a movie...”

“but I don’t do ploys, or scheme, I’m not going to try and convince you to do anything. I won’t need to.”