Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Growing Up Girl ❯ Chapter 9

The next day, I stayed in bed feeling sorry for myself. I didn't cry so much as mentally whine. It was a pathetic state of mind. I fell in and out of sleep, and when I wasn't sleeping, I was hating myself. I was wishing I was dead. I was wishing I was never born. I did nothing but cause other people pain, cause myself pain. The clock radio on my bedside table stared at me with little red numbers while Joni Mitchell sang "A Case of You."

The phone rang. It echoed through my bedroom and reiterated itself out in the living room. I didn't move. I stared at the clock. 2:37.

I heard my own voice on the answering machine. "...Duo Maxwell. I'm not in at the moment. Leave a name and number and I'll call you back. Beep."

There was silence. I heard breathing. And then a click. And silence again. I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to go back to sleep. I'd thought, until then, that I was so incredibly strong. I was strong enough that I could withstand anything. I'd built up my little wall to protect myself, but it wasn't strong enough. I wasn't strong enough. The wall had cracks. Heero had gotten past my wall. I'd let him in and I'd been hurt. Again. The story of my life.

Monday came around. I got out of bed and got dressed. Like a zombie. I rode the bus to work. I sat at my desk. At ten o'clock sharp, a man came through the front doors, carrying a large vase with a dozen long-stemmed yellow roses. The other women stared in envy as he put them on my desk. I glared at the card before opening it. "I'm sorry. I'm coming over tonight. Heero." The card was ripped in half and shoved into my trash can in a matter of seconds. Rachel, one of the other secretaries, came up to my desk and leaned against it, looking jealous. "A guy buys you a dozen roses and you throw away the card?" I stared at my computer screen. "What I wouldn't give to have a guy like that, who would actually bother to spend money on me." I wasn't really paying attention to what was on the screen. "How long have you two been dating?"

I lowered my eyebrows. "We're not."

Rachel stepped back. "You're not even dating, and he buys you flowers? That guy's something special, right there. If you don't want him, I'll gladly take his number off your hands." She smiled and seemed to be waiting.

I picked up the vase of roses and held them out to her. "I don't know his phone number, but you're welcome to these." She took them and walked away.

After work, I rode the bus home. Heero's bike was out front. Heero was sitting on the front steps, hands folded neatly in his lap. He looked uncertain. My high heels alerted him to my presence. We stared at each other for a long time.

His leather jacket made noise as he stood up. "I'm sorry about last night."

"You've already apologized."

He shifted the helmet from one arm to the other. "I know... but you haven't accepted it."

I pushed past him to the door and unlocked it. "And I won't."

He grabbed onto the door as I tried to close it behind me. "I'm not going to let you just walk away like this. I made a mistake. That's all."

I glared at him through the screen and the grates of the door. I had already made my decision. "You can't make a mistake like that with me. It's unforgivable."

He let go of the door. I hesitated to shut it. I wanted him to keep trying. I mentally begged him to keep trying. Please keep trying, Heero. I'm weak, but it's okay if it's around you. I can be weak around you. Change my mind.

He took a step backwards down the stairs and looked away. I still hadn't closed the door. He started to say something, and then hesitated and took another step down the stairs, turning around. He walked back to his bike.

I realized I was just playing games. It was all a game. I didn't want him to leave. This whole thing was ridiculous. He was going to drive away and I may never see him again. I looked away. "Do you think you deserve a second chance?"

He stopped putting the helmet on and glanced back at me. "No one's ever given me a second chance before."

I pushed the door open a little more and motioned for him to come in. "Maybe I'll be the first, then."

We went up to my apartment. Heero leaned against the back of the couch. I offered him a drink. I didn't have any beer, but he said a rum and coke would be fine. I kicked off my shoes. My toes were aching. I was shorter than him, then, as I stood in front of him, arm crossed over my stomach, holding my own drink.

It was a long time before anything happened. I finally gave in and walked over to the stereo. I turned it on. I had one of my Elvis CD's in. The volume was low. At least it wasn't complete silence. I stared at Heero before setting my glass down on the coffee table. "We need to get one thing straight, right now." He turned to face me. "I am not a man. I've lived my whole life being not a man. I may not have always been a woman, but I was never, ever a man. If you can't get past that and see me as others do, this isn't going to work out. Even a friendship won't work out."

He nodded, but seemed to be thinking. I waited for him to speak. "For someone who wants others to be unbelievably understanding, you're not very understanding, yourself."

I stared at him in confusion and realized he was right. I'd never bothered to try to understand others. That's how I'd survived. If I'd worried about what everyone else thought, I never would have made it to where I was now. "It's not easy for me to see it from someone else's point of view."

"I knew you as a boy, Duo. We went to school together. We were friends then."

"Until you told me I was too weird."

Heero looked like he'd been hit. "I said that what you were doing was weird. I didn't say you were."

"What's the difference?"

"A boy dressing in girl's clothes and wearing make-up is a bit strange. I didn't know, back then. I guess it's not all that weird, if you were never a boy."

"That really hurt my feelings, you know." I picked my drink back up. I chugged it. I needed more.

Elvis started singing "Anyway You Want Me." Heero walked to the stereo and turned it up, just a bit. "You like Elvis?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

I handed his drink back and stood in front of him. I had to look up to see his eyes. I sighed. "I'm not going to play games anymore, Heero. I want to know right now why you're even bothering to talk to me. What do you want from me?"

He looked upset over the question. Maybe I was pushing him too far with it, but can you blame me? Could anyone blame me? I didn't want to waste time on someone who wasn't worth it. I'd wasted enough of my life, already. I could easily go out and find a man who didn't know about my past.

I'd have to tell him eventually, though, wouldn't I?

"What do I want from you?"

I nodded. "Is this a relationship? Do you like me? Why did you kiss me last night? What do you want from me out of this? What are you hoping to get out of spending time with me?"

He looked away. I realized he was staring at his helmet. It sat next to the phone on my end table. "I do like you. I don't particularly care for the fact that I like you, but I do."

I could have done without that last comment, but it was actually a relief to hear him say that. I smiled despite myself.

I set my glass on the table and stood in front of him. It took a lot of courage for me to say it. "Touch me."

He stared at me. "Touch you? What?"

I held out my arms, gesturing to myself. "I'm just like any other woman, Heero. If you can't see that, maybe you can feel it."

I remained motionless. So did he. It seemed like forever before he put his drink down and came closer to me. He looked away as he touched my face. He didn't watch his fingers trace over my jaw, feel the smoothness of my cheek. I didn't have rough skin, facial hair like men. He didn't watch his hand travel over my shoulder-a thin shoulder, not like a man's-and down my arm. He didn't look at my hand as he held it, smaller than his own, with thin fingers and long, painted nails. He only looked at me as he touched the front of my blouse, fingers hesitating at the top button. He stared into my eyes, questioning. I nodded and looked away. I scarcely allowed myself to breathe, afraid that simple movement could have scared him.

One by one, the tiny white buttons were pulled away. He pushed the shirt over my shoulders, still tucked into my skirt. It dangled around my waist and clung to my arms. The tips of his fingers touched my throat and traveled down the center of my chest, between my breasts, over my white lace bra. "They're real?"

I nodded and closed my eyes, still refusing to look at him. I wasn't embarrassed. I wasn't uncomfortable. He lowered his mouth to my shoulder and kissed it. I was aroused. "You smell like a woman." He inhaled deeply, one hand at the back of my neck, in my hair. I'd never been touched so gently. And, as far as I could remember, I'd never been aroused by someone's. It scared me.

His hand touched my left breast through the bra. He kissed my neck. He kissed my ear. I swallowed loudly, keeping my eyes closed. I wanted to raise my arms and touch him. I wouldn't let myself move. I could smell him, like motor oil and a fresh breeze. His hair was sandalwood. He was wearing aftershave. He pressed closer to me. His chest touched mine. I felt the leather jacket against my chest.

The phone rang. I jumped. Heero stepped back and closed his eyes. He turned away and picked up his drink. I pulled my shirt back up as I answered the phone. "Hello? Yeah. He's here now, actually. Yes, really. Talking. None of your business. Okay. I'll call you later. Bye." I hung up the phone and buttoned up my blouse. Heero finished off his drink. "That was Hilde. She wanted to know how things went Saturday."

Heero walked to the kitchen and put his glass in the sink. "I guess I should get going."

I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to leave. He could stay. For as long as he wanted, he could stay. I nodded. He grabbed his helmet and walked towards the door. "I'll... call you Friday."

I smiled. And he walked out the door.