Animate Me

“Thanks, Dani. You’re a good friend.”

The rest of the afternoon is tantamount to Chinese water torture. Horrible thoughts drip with a consistent pace through my mind, while I pray for my sanity. Drip, drip, drip, drip…only time will tell how long I can hold on.

That evening I try to work on my comic book but the first line I draw of B-Girl undoes me. I end up resorting to hard liquor and watching bootleg versions of the censored wartime cartoons to numb my mind until I finally pass out in a Looney Tunes stupor.

Thursday I hear through the grapevine that Arnold and Brooke are back and there’s a meeting first thing with his team about Saturday’s event. Ge

Evidently it’s going to be a full on party: there’s going to be a DJ with a dance floor, catered food, open bar…the works. I didn’t think animators danced, but I’m sure the assistants and accounting staff will make up for us uncoordinates, and get out there and boogie. The whole thing sounds like a major pain-in-the-ass production and we’re all expected to go.

I’m so anxious to talk to Brooke but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to head upstairs until I know more. Maybe I can drop by her house after work?

After lunch I force myself to get into the cartoon groove and work on animating a new scene. I’m drawing away and listening to my iPod when I sense someone’s watching me.

I look up to see Brooke just inside my cube. She looks rested and has pink cheeks. She also looks apprehensive about being here.

I peel out my earbuds and set my pencil down. “Hi,” I say softly. I’m so relieved to see her, but nervous as well.

“Hi Nathan.” She smiles at me sweetly, but it seems edged with sadness. I immediately realize that she isn’t going to hug me. Maybe it’s cause we’re at work, and she’s afraid someone will see. I try to tell myself.

“How are you? Did you have a good time in Santa Barbara?” I’m trying to not obsess over the idea that everything feels different between us now, and not in a good way.

She nods. “Yeah, it was nice…really beautiful there. Have you ever been to Barcara?”

“No, but I considered it once.” I leave out the part where “once” means on Tuesday when I found out she was there with Arnold.

“Well, the time away gave me time to think about things.”

“Things?” I ask nervously. This isn’t going well.

“Yeah, and I think it may be a good idea not to do the coffee visits anymore, so I thought I should drop by and tell you before you go.” She looks down.

It was one thing to hear this from Arnold, but something else entirely with Brooke. Doesn’t she realize how much this will hurt me?

Well, she must have no idea. She didn’t even warn me before she ripped the Band-Aid for my obsession off, and now here I am with my disappointment exposed between us.

I just stare at her with my mouth twisted. I can’t form words, and finally I turn away.

“Okay, sure,” I finally reply once I’m facing my animation table and not her huge sad eyes. My head has fallen forward and it almost feels like I’m talking to the Bucky drawing I just finished, but he’s distracted because his head’s on fire. I push the drawing away from me and lean into my elbows.

“Nathan,” she insists, trying to regain my attention. “Don’t act that way.”

“Act what way?”

“Like I’ve disappointed you.” Her expression’s worried, taking away all the happy pink coloring from her restful getaway.

“Oh.”

I leave it there—no lace trim, or creamy filling…just oh. It’s one tiny word that holds much more than its weight in despair. You don’t think you’ve disappointed me, Brooke? Well, try climbing into this broken heart and tell me if you like the view.

“Come on, Nathan…I came down here to see you and make plans.”

“Plans? What do you want to do?” I try a fake enthusiastic voice. I’m battling a weird unsettled feeling. I can’t help it. I turn back to face her.

“Are you free early Saturday? I have to pick up something at Fred Segal’s and I thought we could get outfits for the party together…then have lunch or something.”

Pick outfits together? I break into a cold sweat. We slept together and now she wants to go shopping?

Maybe she thinks I can be her BFF for our own episode of What Not to Wear. I’ve seen that show at my Mom’s house, and I fear she will make me stand in front of those horrifying three way mirrors. I don’t need that experience to know I don’t dress right. Besides I loathe clothes shopping.

But what stings much more is knowing that I am now merely her shopping buddy. I assume I’m no longer her Starbucks bearing, beer drinking, couch cuddling, cartoon compatriot, buddy/lover. To say that my manhood just shrunk, both metaphorically and in actuality, would be a vast understatement. I try to regain my equilibrium.

She tips her head wondering why I haven’t responded. Thank God she can’t hear this conversation in my head. Something occurs to me and I speak up.

“Who’s Fred Segal anyway…is he a friend of yours?” Hell. Maybe she’s pla

“A friend?” She laughs. “Oh, man…I’ve missed you. No, Fred Segal is a chic store in West Hollywood that has all the hippest stuff. A lot of music and film people shop there.”

“Why would I want to shop there? I’m not hip,” I point out.

“No, but you could be,” she encourages.

Oh. Is that it? I’m not hip. Suddenly everything becomes clear, yet still feels dirty. Where’d my beautiful Brooke go that didn’t care so much about that stuff? A few days with Mojo and this is where it leaves us?

I don’t want to be hip, Brooke. I don’t care about being hip. I just want you.

“Is this what you want?” I ask quietly.

“Yes, I want you to come with me. I want to spend time with you. Besides, we’ll have fun.”

I nod, my resolve outweighing my concerns. “When should I get you?”

“How about eleven. I’ll be home from my Zumba class and showered by then.”

I’ll miss the yoga pants, I realize with despair. I agree because what choice do I have? As wrong as this feels right now, I can’t give up yet. Not at least until I learn what’s really going on in her mind and if I still have any chance at all.

Damn Brooke, evidently while you were away I lost my mojo, and you seemed to rediscover yours…your very own hip Mojo Jojo with the furry back and apparently impressive mind-control abilities.

• • •

For di

“Hi Nathan.”

It’s unusual for her to call during the week so I am a bit alarmed. “Everything okay, Mom?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about you and wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Moms and their intuition. If she’s going to ask, I’m not going to hold back.

“Well remember that scene where Sylvester thinks he’s flying up to Tweety’s nest and he gets so excited, but then he remembers that he can’t fly, and in despair, crashes to the ground? Well I’m Sylvester, and that pretty much sums up how things are going for me.”

“Oh no, that doesn’t sound good at all. What happened with Brooke?”

“She just came back from a romantic few days with her boyfriend and now we can’t have coffee together anymore in the afternoons. It’s the begi

“But Nathan, you knew from the start that she was with that man. Why are you surprised?”

“I just thought we were getting closer and had something special. But I must’ve been wrong.”