text: Jasper didn’t spend as much time thinking about Audrey as she did thinking about him. Different reactions to the same situation. Audrey’s friends told her to forget about Jasper. After a while they stopped listening to her talk about his phone calls or visits, because they were so sure it wasn’t helping. “She needs to get over him,” the consensus was. “They’ve known each other five years. They’ve been... socializing... or whatever this is, for nearly two years. If he liked her like that, he’d have made a move. He just wants to be friends.” Truth be told, Jasper had not given much thought to what he wanted. He lived his life moment to moment and didn’t make many long term plans. Audrey, on the other hand, could tell you what she hoped to be doing at this time today ten years from now. After her third conversation with Jasper, she announced to her best friend that she was going to marry him. Knowing Audrey all too well, her friend replied, “Does he know that?” To which Audrey confidently declared, “No. But I don’t care if I have to wait six months or six years. He’s it.” And she did wait. Men came and went from her sphere of consciousness, and they were fine enough, but none approached the supernatural pull of Jasper. He was transcendent. Audrey had to quarantine for work during the early stages of the pandemic, so she couldn’t see Jasper in person for nearly three months. When she finally did see him, he handed her a magazine, and said “I remember you said you liked oil paintings and this has a really long article about the Met’s new exhibition. I thought you might want to read it.” Audrey knew the exhibition. It had been down for two months. “How long have you had this?” She asked, unable to mask her shock. “Oh, I don’t know. Four months, maybe?” He replied, nonplussed. “You held onto a magazine you had no interest in reading for four months just to give to me?” Audrey thought, but didn’t say. She fell more deeply for him every day. Even on the days they didn’t speak. Because on those days she interacted with other men. Ones who would cut her off when she spoke, forget intimate details she’d shared about her life, or patronizingly try to explain her own areas of speciality to her. Ones who only call when they needed something, never just to talk. Ones who didn’t even know what oil paintings were, let alone that she liked them. One night she was cleaning her kitchen when she felt her phone buzz with a message. She checked the screen and couldn’t dim the light beams shooting out of her chest as she read his name. They brightened in intensity as she read the message. “Can I call at 7?” She told him to call whenever he wanted and stopped everything she was doing, too enraptured with anticipation to lift a finger for anything other than to hit the green “answer” key. Jasper would never really have any idea about this. He wasn’t calling to make her shrivel to the floor in delight. He was calling because he wanted to talk to her. He hopped off his skateboard and pulled the door open to his apartment, making it home just in time for 7:00. “Hey.” He greeted her, flopping down on his couch. Audrey swung her legs over the arm of her easy chair and responded in kind. “How’s the big scientific research project going?” He asked, in reference to her latest Netflix binge, that she teasingly insisted she was prioritizing in the name of science. They compared movie ratings for a few minutes before the mention of some on-screen conflict organically shifted discussion towards Jasper’s imminent trip home for the holidays. With anyone else he’d just passively repeat his canned lines about things being “strained but fine,” and press on to a change of topic, but never with Audrey. Jasper had led a life of physical pain. Audrey had led a life of emotional turmoil. You don’t reach the extremes of one without some of the other, so they understood each other better than most. It enabled each to talk openly about things that otherwise remained tightly sealed. “How you feeling about seeing him?” Audrey asked, in reference to his father. The last time Jasper had been home, they’d had a fierce argument that attracted attention from the entire neighborhood. “If my mom is around, I’ve just got to sit back and take it, and hope she says something--“ “She won’t.” Audrey thought to herself, bitterly. “But if he tries anything while we’re alone, he’ll get an instant reminder that I’m not a little boy anymore.” Audrey ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. “You’ve got it handled. But you shouldn’t have to be in a defensive mode the entire time you’re there. Any of the time, really. None of this is your fault. How’s his sobriety going?” “He’s definitely struggling, but it’s fine.” “‘It’s fine,’ ugh, I guess he’s reached his limit.” Audrey thought to herself. “So, anyways, how’re your plans for the winter match up thing coming together?” Jasper continued, taking a hard turn away from his home life, confirming her suspicions. She wished he’d asked her anything but that. She had wanted to bring him to the winter match-up the college was hosting in lieu of the holiday ball they typically had. She’d hoped if she complained to him enough about not having a date he’d get the message and volunteer himself. Immediately following a sensitive conversation about potential episodes of domestic violence was not the time to ask, though. All she wanted to do was hug him right then, not kiss him. “It’s ok. Might not go, might just go home early. We’ll see.” She said, searching for something else to discuss. “But it’s virtual. You can go whether you’re home or on campus.” Jasper reasoned. Well, he had a point. She was trapped. “I don’t have anyone I really want to go with. We’ll see.” She said, a slight edge to her voice, that Jasper missed entirely. “Why not? It’s one night, make some guy’s dreams come true, go with him to the stupid thing. If you’re not having a good time you can always fake connection issues. That’s the beauty of a virtual dance. Who are your options?” After a few milliseconds, Jasper could tell from the tone of the silence what Audrey had really meant. “Oh. Man, Aud, that’s crazy. I’m sure it has nothing to do with you, but I understand it’s still really hurtful. Do you want to talk about it or should I stop bringing it up when you’re clearly giving two and three word answers?” She felt a pang reverberate through her soul as she admired how he managed to express genuine concern about her minor problem just moments after confiding his own gravely serious ones. She knew this was trivial compared to the wounds he’d just opened, so tried to restrain herself from indulging in self pity. But he had a way of drawing her innermost thoughts out of her, regardless of context. “I just don’t get it. It would be one thing if I understood it, you know? Like, if I hadn’t gone out and tried literally a hundred different guys, not even for some serious relationship, but just for this one night. Or if I didn’t have a lot to offer someone who picked me. You know what I mean? I’m not perfect, but I’m enough.” This was not the first time they’d had this conversation, and each time was surreal to Jasper, who thought Audrey walked on water. He assumed she’d have her pick of suitors. Each thought the other was out of their league. “You’re more than enough. But if it helps, you’re not missing anything,” Jasper offered. “Relationships, or even dates since that’s all you were looking for for this, are just a string of expectations to meet. When Lizette and I were together nothing I did was ever enough. Sometimes she’d call me at three in the morning just to yell at me. You don’t need that.” Audrey had never liked Lizette. And not only because she was staggeringly jealous of every second she may have gotten to spend touching Jasper. “Are you kidding? Well, I never liked her.” Audrey started. “They’re all like that,” he interjected. “Sorry to say, your species is just a little off kilter.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “They’ve all been like that?” She asked in shock. “Not exactly,” he acquiesced. “Only she’s ever called just to scream. But they all have unrealistic expectations, they’re all expensive. Most of being in a relationship is finding new ways to disappoint people. But, then again, it’s probably not that way for everybody. I’ve just got to take what I can get.” Audrey was shaking her head as though he could see it. “That’s ridiculous, Jasper. You have every good quality a person could hope to find in a partner. Each of your flaws is equaled or outmatched by a strength.” He hated being complimented and she knew it. “That’s not true. I can be very difficult to be with--“ he started. “You have a mixture of qualities some may never find all in one human being. Everyone’s looking for something different. Maybe to some women if a guy doesn’t have a certain sense of humor she can never love him, or possess an encyclopedic knowledge about golf she can never love him, or if he isn’t Catholic she can never love him, or whatever the case. But you’re everything I’ve ever looked for. Unflinchingly honest, consistently non-judgmental, infinitely curious, universally kind... You’re my prince. Anyone who makes you feel like anything less doesn’t deserve you.” Her voice caught in her throat. She was talking about how she truly saw him. To him. She hadn’t meant to do that. He always had a way to draw out what she was really thinking, no matter how inarticulate, no matter how inappropriate, no matter how dangerous. Jasper had dropped the phone as she spoke. Thankfully it was already set to speaker. The endorphins dripped down his brain like a rainstorm. But as badly as he wanted to believe her, a small evil voice in the back of his head told him she couldn’t truly mean those things. “But Aud, I’m not... I mean... I’m not all that. I’m just myself. I can get so anxious that I don’t touch my phone for a week. I can’t buy you anything beautiful. I can’t buy you anything at all. I barely made my rent this month. You’ve got a whole battle strategy laid out for every move you make and I don’t even know where I’ll be living next month. I--“ Audrey stopped him. “You are the single smartest, most empathetic, independent, and thoughtful person I’ve ever known. In the face of that, it doesn’t matter if you go silent for a week or don’t make money right now. When you do call, it’s more substantive than a years’ worth of communication with some other people. And anyone picking a man based on their bank account isn’t looking for a boyfriend, they’re looking for a second revenue stream. Totally different. Besides, when you graduate, you’ll have any job you want. Not that it matters to me. So, no more dating any Lizette’s ok?” They sat in silence for a moment. “That’s what’s so frustrating,” Audrey finally continued. “These girls have the gall to make demands of *you*? You, who already exceeds every possible measure of a man I could set? I mean, all I want is someone who will go for walks with me in the sun or lay with me in dark. Who enjoys my company and wants to share more of themselves with me than they have to hide. Is that really so much to ask? She felt her heart sink as Jasper felt at once just inches away and entire worlds apart. Jasper cleared his throat on the other end of the line, stooping down to pick up his phone from the carpeted floor. It had occurred to him to say a version of this once, but he’d just as quickly dismissed it as too risky. Too soon. Too... unlikely. “I could be those things.” He said, so low with uncertainty it was almost a whisper. “I know you can. You are. So don’t settle for psychos. Be with someone who’s going to treat you like the prince that you are.” She opined, clutching at her aching soul, watching him slip away into another pair of arms. “I, I could be those things for you, I mean,” he clarified. “If you want. We could, you know. We could give that a try.” She wasn’t saying anything. He felt his heartbeat intensify as he forced himself to appear calm on the outside. “I could take you to the virtual winter thing. You and me, we could go out. To it.” He explained, coolly. Audrey couldn’t believe what she was hearing and sat upright in her chair. She tried to steady her trembling voice. “Like friends, or...” “Like more than friends.” Jasper clarified. “If you want.” She was so glad this was a phone call and not FaceTime so he couldn’t see her well up with tears. “Yes. Definitely, definitely yes.” She manager to say before she lost her breath again. She could feel him smile. He could feel her cry. They stayed on the phone in silence for 15 minutes more before each said “Ok, bye,” simultaneously before hanging up. The end of the call marked the end of their friendship, and the start of them.