Marshall’s legs were burning but he peddled no less strenuously. He welcomed the pain because it gave him something to dwell on besides his last conversation with Audrey. Tangible hurt was preferable to a metaphorical kick to the gut. Then again, it mattered little what his preferences were.
It was ridiculous for him to be jealous, especially since she had been kind enough to offer him a consolation prize as she was twisting the dagger of 94 her indifference into his heart. Grudgingly he’d allowed himself to be introduced to Sarah, found her to be as attractive as promised, and had a lunch date scheduled with her for the next day. He had been on the look-out for a diversion from Audrey, not expecting that she’d be the person to provide one. She was a dear friend, love of his life, and pimp supreme all rolled into one. Was it any wonder that he was consumed by her?
Perhaps consumed was too strong a word. When Audrey told him she was not interested in him romantically six years earlier, he had been disappointed but not devastated. As they began spending time together as friends there was no ulterior motive on his part. He enjoyed her company for what it was. It took several months to realize that he was enjoying it a little too much, that he was harboring unreciprocated desire. He considered making his feelings known, and if rejected, the second time around he would have walked away for good, sacrificing friendship for the sake of his ego. But then Todd came along, rendering any professions of love moot. Eventually he grew accustomed to Todd’s presence without ever taking much of a liking to him. He was far from consumed by Audrey during those years, or so he concluded as he took an unnecessarily sharp turn on his bike, scarcely noticing as Brooklyn’s Prospect Park whizzed by.
Thoughts of courting her resurfaced when she and Todd broke up. He would give her sufficient time and then express his feelings. Or would he? After five years he would not be able to breezily abandon their friendship. Sleepless nights were 95 spent wondering if he should keep quiet or go for broke. She was free, as was he, it was now or never. Yet he continued to procrastinate, to wait for a moment that was assuredly perfect.
He had become a maestro at the waiting game. That’s what he had been doing while she was meeting some guy named James, waiting for her to show up and crush him. She did everything short of sending him an engraved invitation which read - Enjoy your coffee and cookies until I finally show up to make you feel like shit once more for old time’s sake.
It was a stunning day, the sun at high beam as if to highlight his despair. But why should he feel badly, he asked himself for the hundredth time on his mindless bicycle race against invisible demons that could not be outpaced. He should have been used to the fact that they were not meant to be together. This James character had done him a huge favor by showing up when he did, sparing him the sting of rejection and the humiliation of standing by idly. Audrey had found someone new. She had moved on, would be giving happiness another go. As her friend he should have been glad for these things, especially since she was not the only one presented with an opportunity. Thanks to her intervention, he possessed one as well. Sarah was possibly the woman he had been waiting for. There was that cursed word again. Waiting.
Fuck waiting. Screw standing still. It was time for a new plan of action. And he had at last concocted one. For however long his legs and lungs could stand, there was a single clear cut mission for him to accomplish. He would peddle, 96 and peddle, and peddle as if his life depended on it. If not his life, surely his sanity was at stake.
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