At 21, Part 3

1992


I’m driving to Elisa’s house and thinking about high school. Us in high school. The person I used to be, she used to be. We went to the same high school in South Jersey, but didn’t know each other. We knew of each other. She was a junior, I was a senior. We probably passed each other in the hallways hundreds of times, not knowing that in the near-future we’d be madly in love. Fucking like bunnies. Carrying on a secret affair behind the backs of our friends and families. I’ve been out of high school for less than four years, and, honestly, I haven’t changed much. The only real change between the seventeen-year-old Ervin and the twenty-one-year-old Ervin is that the older me knows what it’s like to truly be in love; and I also snort a hell of a lot less cocaine.

I was shy in high school, went under the radar, and most of my classmates have probably already forgotten me. I was not the memorable sort; I was the sit-in-the-back-of-the-class-and-try-not-to-get-noticed sort. At least I didn’t get beaten up. Didn’t get hassled much at all. I wasn’t particularly cool, wasn’t particularly uncool. Just was, but not in a cool Zen kind of way. I didn’t get laid for the first time until the summer before senior year, with a girl several years older than myself. I never scored with high school girls, not while I was actually in high school, anyway. Elisa wasn’t popular in high school, either. The main difference between uncool high school girls and uncool high school boys is that uncool high school girls can get laid, even if they are somewhat...less than appealing. Elisa wouldn’t have dated me in high school. She might have had sex with me, since she’s never been too choosy, but she never would’ve been my girlfriend. I was aware of her presence back then because I worked with her older brother at Pizza Tent.

I was involved with someone for the entirety of my senior year. An older woman. Katherine. She also worked at Pizza Tent. Cashier and pizza cutter. We almost got married. Bought her a ring. Asked her to marry me. The engagement was her idea. I went along with it so she wouldn’t stop having sex with me. I liked the sex. Right before graduation, I broke her heart. Because I wanted to try the sex with other girls. Lots of other girls. Black girls. Asian girls. Tall girls. Chubby girls. Goth girls. Tiny girls. Funny girls. Sad girls. Booby girls. The idea of having sex with Katherine, and only Katherine, for the rest of my life, scared the connoisseur in me. I wanted to be able to sample all of the delicacies, not just one.

I’m glad Elisa didn’t know that Ervin, the Ervin who snorted coke because he thought people would like him more if he joined in on the partying, the Ervin who told lies to Katherine so she wouldn't stop taking off her clothes for him. I wasn’t in love with Katherine, and even as I was down on my knee asking her to marry me, I knew that the marriage would never happen. Now, at twenty-one, with Elisa, I’ve found the love of my life; I know this because when the sex ends, I don’t want to get up and leave.

I’m also thinking about the future. I want to make something of my life. Something other than pizza. I want to rise above the low expectations. The white trash upbringing. The lack of money. The history of alcoholism and drug abuse in my family. The whispers of incest from generations back. No one in my family has ever really amounted to much. I want to be the first. I’m just not sure how I’m going to achieve that just yet. What I am sure of, though, is that I really want Elisa to stop fucking that other guy. That would be a good start to my new, exciting, non-white trash life.

It’s just before noon and I arrive in front of Elisa’s house. Usually, she’s waiting for me outside, brightening as soon as she sees me, but today she’s still inside. I walk up to the door and knock. In the backyard sits a stripped car Elisa’s father has been working on for about a decade. The patchy grass looks like is hasn’t been cut in years. The white paint on the front door is dirty and cracked. It’s a cloudy day, and the surrounding gray haze gives Elisa’s already bleak house an added layer of grimness.

I’m wearing my finest pair of brown polyester work pants, tight-fitting, of course, to show off my excellent ass. My dirty blond hair is parted in the middle and feathered to perfection, a little long in the back. My pretty (yet manly) blue eyes are bloodshot today, after staying up until dawn with Elisa. We had sex, cuddled, then watched the sun come up. Most nights we don’t even say much to each other. We don’t have to. Last night, we held each other tight and cried a little, not out of sadness, but because we were both utterly content. I don’t feel tired today. I’m exhilarated. I feel like I’ve crossed the threshold with Elisa. I feel like she’s mine. That I’ve won her over. That we’re beyond the point of just messing around. Beyond just a casual fling. It’s real. My want for her overwhelms me. I am powerless against it. She owns me. I wish she didn’t, but the girl fucking rules my existence. I’ve joined her cult. There’s only one other member. Him. That jerk of a boyfriend she won’t dump.

I knock on the door. Wait. Hear strange footsteps. Elisa’s boyfriend answers. He’s staring at me as if I’m a six-foot-tall fungus. He’s short and compact, handsome in a reform school kind of way. "Who the hell are you?"

"Um, I’m here to see if Elisa needs a ride to work, because, um, we work together. At Pizza Tent. We’re friends. Me and Elisa. I’m kind of her boss, actually. I just got promoted to Assistant Manager. It’s pretty cool. Anyway, sometimes I give Elisa a ride. Sometimes she rides me. We take turns."

I should shut up now, so I do.

"Is that so?" he asks, without the slightest hint of the smirk that this situation clearly calls for.

"Yeah. We work at the same time today, so—"

"Whatever," he says, unimpressed.

Elisa comes up behind her boyfriend, looks at me and mouths I’m sorry. She smiles weakly.

"Hey, Ervin," she says, trying to sound composed. She’s flushed and talking fast. "I don’t need a ride today. I’m okay. Dirk is going to drive me. I mentioned Dirk, right? My boyfriend? Anyway, I’ll see you at work. Bye now."

Dirk. Fucking Dirk.

When she left my house early this morning, my scent was all over her. I’d been inside her, on top of her, under her. All of my fluids mingled with hers. We didn’t use a condom. We were messy. Crazy. Maybe broke a few rules of nature. Put things in places they didn’t belong. I let go when she told me it was time to let go. Filled her up. Several times. We stunk of sloppy sex. My scent is now gone. Elisa smells like Dirk. I feel like I’m going to vomit.

"Okay, Elisa. I’ll see you at work. Long day ahead of us. Nice to meet you, Dirk."

Dirk shrugs and says, "Yeah, nice to meet you, Erwin."

"Ervin. My name is Ervin."

"Same difference. Like it even matters, dude."

Nice guy I think.

I nod and wave, then walk away. I turn back, hoping to see a glint of sadness in Elisa’s eyes as I depart, but the door is already closed. I was not expecting that. I feel like a rejected encyclopedia salesman.

Motherfucker.

Something has to change, and quick. I can’t go on having sex with her, loving her, if she won’t even break up with that asshole. What is she waiting for? I keep saying it. That I can’t go on like this. I have to mean it. I have to be strong. If I’m not strong, Dirk will always be there to snuff out my scent.