Animate Me

“I think you’re more grown up than you think,” I say resolutely. “But if you insist, I’ll keep dating her until you make up your mind.”

“Just watch your step, asshole. If I hear that you’ve fucked her, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted.”

I watch him walk away and I replay the conversation in my head. Either I finally did something right today, or I screwed up my relationships with two more people that I really care about. I’m such a mess; I can’t decide which…all I can do is hope that I did the right thing.

• • •

There’s finally a single ray of sunshine that afternoon. I get a call from Chris Carpenter from Sharper Edge Comics wanting to meet me for lunch to discuss the deal for the B-Girl series. He puts his assistant on and we set it up for next Friday in Studio City. I feel a surge of excitement pumping through me and even though the feeling quickly fades, I’m still grateful to have the meeting to look forward to.

Just after five I see Morgan wandering down our aisle sticking her head in each cube looking for someone. I consider hiding under my animation desk, but before I can fall to my knees she sees me.

“What happened to you?” She looks angry, tapping her watch impatiently.

“What are you talking about?”

“Where’s her coffee? Her afternoon visit?”

I blanch.

“Did the pitch not go well and now it’s payback time?” she sneers.

“Morgan, for the last time I wasn’t going to pitch her, and I didn’t. That’s not what’s happening here.”

“Okay, can you then tell me why she left early yesterday without a word and I caught her crying at her desk a few minutes ago. Right after she’d asked if I’d seen you.”

She might as well have kicked me in the stomach. “Really?” I ask softly. “She was crying?”

“I’ve never seen her cry before. It freaked me out. And yes, she’s my boss…but I care about her. She’s a really good person.”

“I know she is, Morgan. She was just trying to help me, and I screwed up.”

“Well then, fix it, damn it!”

Morgan’s kind of scary when she’s mad. I jump up from my drafting chair and grab my Sharpie. “I’ll be up there in a few.”

“Okay, hurry. She just got pulled into a meeting so I want it waiting for her when she gets back.”

Other than the excruciating moments in the elevator, I run all the way to Starbucks. My hand’s shaky when I draw on the cup but I do my best. I draw an eye, with a screw next to it followed by an apostrophe and the letter “d”. Next I draw an arrow pointing up. I screwed up.

Then underneath I draw a little caricature of me with my hair in my face, big glasses, and the biggest frown. In small letters underneath I write, I’m sorry and just underneath, I miss you.

The barista has put those little green stoppers in the sip hole of the lid so I’m able to run back to the studio without spilling it all.

My heart is pounding as I run up to Morgan’s desk and hand her Brooke’s drink. “Did I make it? Is she out yet?”

“No, perfect timing,” she says, giving me a thumbs up. “I think it’s almost over.”

“Good,” I gasp still catching my breath. I set the second coffee on her desk. “Here Morgan, this mocha’s for you. Thanks for your help.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “You’re welcome. Thanks for the drink. Here I’m going to put this on her desk so it’s waiting for her when she gets back. I really hope this will cheer her up.”

“Me too.”

Everything hits me as I get into the elevator and almost sink to my knees. The emotional overload of the last couple of days is crashing down on me. I don’t know how much more I can take. Maybe I was better off alone, with my predictable weeks, and small, reliable group of friends. I’m living Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride now and it’s terrifying. But just hearing how sad Brooke is breaks my heart again and makes me realize that I can’t walk away from her…not now, not ever.

I get back to my cube and force myself to work knowing that Joel often walks through in the afternoon to see how our assignments are progressing. Sure enough, only minutes later he steps in to say hi and I show him the latest drawings. He doesn’t seem to sense anything amiss and I breath a sigh of relief when he moves on to Andy’s cube.

Just past five-thirty, I get a text. My heart leaps when I see it’s from Brooke.

Thanks for the coffee, Nathan.

I’m so sorry for being an idiot, Brooke.

You’re not an idiot. This would be a lot for anyone to deal with. I think you’re very brave.

Well, I think you’re amazing. Thanks for believing in me.

Do does this mean we can still be friends?

I realize how brave she is to ask this.

There’s nothing I want more. Can I still come over Thursday night and help with your website?

I guess so, but only if you’re sure you’re comfortable with me. I promise not to touch you.

Why don’t we talk about the touching part when we meet? I’m very comfortable with you, okay?

Okay, that makes me happy. I’ll see you at seven.

See you then. I have a big smile when I hit the send button for the last time.

• • •

Thursday at six forty-five I play the Foo Fighters, Everlong really loud the whole way up the hill. I can barely breath I’m so excited to see her. Even though I can’t open my heart to her yet, I wish I could tell her everything…that I love her…that I want her to touch every part of me, as long as I can touch her too.

After I park, I lower the sun-shield and looking in the mirror, try to smooth out my crazy hair. Before I climb out of the car I take a few deep, calming breaths.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

When she buzzes me in, I use my back to push the gate shut, as my hands are more than full. She pulls the door open and smiles. She looks hopeful and happy to see me.

I’m overcome. I want to cry out of frustration for almost messing this up. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her until the sun sets over us, or something equally corny, but true.

Instead I lift my heavy arms and show her the twelve packs of Heinekens I’m holding in each hand. “These are for you. Well, for us.” I say quietly.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling the door open wider.

And then I realize why I’m the luckiest man in the world.

Yes! Yoga pants. Her curvy hips and lush thighs are sheathed in stretchy black magic. I almost pass out in excitement. My eyes trail up to her torso where Tom is chasing Jerry over the round, full swell of her breasts. It’s almost too much — it’s so damn good. I know she’s worn this just for me.

Now I understand people with faith. God is Good…so, so good. Yoga pants good, and in my book there’s nothing better.

I step right up to her and lay the beer at her feet like a sacred offering. She looks up at me and smiles, opening her arms and I step right into them.

The hug is long, our hearts unfolding. This is a new begi

Animate Me / Chapter Nine / Extra-Special Best Friends

“That’s a good little boy.” ~Betty Boopviii

When we finally pull apart from our hug she looks down at the beer, and then back at me with her eyebrows raised.

“Are you pla

“No,” I stammer. “This is just proof of my intention to keep coming back.”

“Oh,” she smiles warmly. “I like that. Come on, let’s see how many we can fit in the fridge.”