The Boy Next Door (6 page)

Before you think I’m some kind of evil person trying to wreck all of Jason’s relationships, let me assure you that I’ve actually made an effort in the past to get him to hook up.

I know Jason dated some girls in college, but when we first reconnected in the city, he was very single. He also seemed to have zero interest in dating, which seemed crazy for a virile, young 25-year-old banker. He might have been a paraplegic, but he was also pretty good looking. I had to believe that some girl would fall in love with those green eyes. But he said that his work kept him way too busy, which I guess was true to some extent. He worked pretty much 16-hour days or longer, and often both days of the weekend.

“Aren’t you horny?” I asked him. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of action Jason had going on below the belt, but I was pretty sure there was something going on. After all, he kept those
Playboys
around for some purpose.

“It’s not like going without food,” Jason replied, despite the fact that sometimes it seemed like he was going without food a lot of days too. And sleep.

I was on a personal mission to sleep with every guy in the city (or at least every musician) so it seemed criminal to me that Jason obviously hadn’t had sex in probably over a year. “I’m going to hook you up,” I said.

“Uh, that’s okay,” Jason said.

“I want to,” I insisted. “Tell me what your type is.” I really had no idea, since Jason had never expressed any interest in any girl in high school and I’d never met any of his college girlfriends.

“I don’t think I have a type,” he said, which I never really believed to be true, although I’ve admittedly never figured out what his type is.

Somehow I zeroed in on my roommate Alyssa. Alyssa was also a waitress, which is how I met her, when we were briefly working at the same restaurant and hit it off. She was trying to make a go of it as an actress, thinking maybe the competition would be less in New York than in LA. Alyssa loved to act, but I never had the heart to tell her that she probably wasn’t pretty enough to be an actress. Actually, Alyssa and I lost touch and I have no idea what happened to her acting dream, but I’m fairly sure she hasn’t made it big or anything. I mean, you haven’t seen any movies or TV shows with an Alyssa Robertson in it, have you?

Anyway, while Alyssa and I were watching
Frasier
reruns one night, I said to her, “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

I was pretty sure she wasn’t. Alyssa’s love life was usually about as dire as Jason’s.

“No,” she said, munching on one of the granola bars that she seemed to eat about a dozen of per day. “Why?”

“Would you go out with a friend of mine?”

“Depends who.”

“His name is Jason.”

Alyssa swallowed some granola. “The guy in the wheelchair? Nuh uh.”

“What? He’s cute.”

“I’m not going out with any disabled guys,” Alyssa said, crinkling her nose. “Christ.”

“Why not?”

Alyssa shook her head. “If he’s so great, why don’t you go out with him, Tasha?”

Alyssa’s reaction was typical of what I got from all the rest of my friends. There were even a few girls who I knew for a fact were not very discerning, and even they said no. I didn’t get it, except maybe they equated his disability with being mentally challenged. Which was ridiculous, since Jason was one of the smartest guys I knew.

A few weeks later, I was at dinner with Jason and he casually asked, “So how’s the hunt to set me up going?”

And I burst into tears.

Jason was shocked. He rubbed my shoulder while I sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jason. I can’t. . . . Nobody will . . .”

“Hey,” he said. “Tasha, it’s okay. Geez, I didn’t expect you to set me up. I can get my own dates.”

I looked at him s
keptically
.

“I can,” he insisted. “Really.”

The truth was, I didn’t believe him. I thought Jason was destined to always be alone because no girl could look beyond his disability, realize how awesome he was, and fall madly in love with him.

Even, I guess, me.

But anyway, Jason did manage to prove me wrong. About six months later, he started dating some girl named Rachel. A librarian. The Rachel relationship seemed a little rocky from the start, though, and they broke up a few months later. Then there was Carol. And Ann. And Yvette, the masseuse.

Prior to Melissa, Jason’s longest relationship was with a girl named Danielle. I know you’re going to say it’s a pattern, but I almost immediately despised Danielle. There were a few reasons for that, all of which I think were very good reasons. Danielle wasn’t terribly pretty, but there was something kind of
 
perfect
 
about her. She had this perfect, straight blond hair; perfect, straight white teeth (caps?); a perfect, straight nose (rhinoplasty, I’m pretty sure); and perfect, pert boobs (boob job, I’m positive).

Jason, while an amazing person, is not perfect. That kind of goes without saying. I think she liked him because he had a great job and made a lot of money, and was very generous, but I don’t think she liked him very much. And that’s why I grew to hate her. I think the first time I really disliked Danielle was when we took a drive down to Coney Island together: her, Jason, me, and my current boyfriend, this Latin type named Mario who was a model/waiter. Jason wanted to stick to the boardwalk, but Danielle was really adamant about wanting to get a great tan. I could see Jason struggling to wheel in the sand, and she just didn’t give a shit.

When we finally reached a location on the beach that was acceptable to Danielle, she quickly stripped down to her bikini. I have to admit that Danielle had a fantastic body, between the silicon boobs, eating only carrots, and the gym work that left her without an ounce of cellulite. Then again, I have a great body too--even more so back then--and I think my red string bikini gave Danielle’s a run for her money.

Mario probably was the winner between the three of us, though. When he pulled off his T-shirt, Danielle’s jaw dropped when she saw his bronze Latin body, with the six-pack, the bulging biceps, and the snake tattoos. Yes, my boyfriend was mega hot. You can still see that incredible body in magazine ads.

Then Jason took his shirt off, which, you know, was a perfectly natural thing to do at the beach and all. But the timing just kind of sucked because Mario had just taken his shirt off and Jason kind of paled in comparison. He paled a lot, actually, both literally and figuratively. Obviously, Jason spent nowhere near as much time with his shirt off as Mario did and didn’t have the advantage of a naturally dark skin tone, so his skin was very white. I’d seen Jason with his shirt off several times so I knew what to expect, and he’d also told me that due to the level of his injury, he had no muscles from about mid-chest down. That’s why he needed a wheelchair with a bit more back support. Anyway, as a result, he had what I guess looked like a beer gut bulging out (despite not being a particularly heavy drinker).

Jason’s chest wasn’t anything that would cause you to want to lose your lunch or anything. I mean, looking around the beach, there were plenty of not-so-attractive people out there with huge guts and cellulite and whatever. But like I said, Mario had just taken off his shirt.

“Please, honey,” Danielle said to Jason, shaking her head at him. “Put your shirt back on. Nobody wants to see that.”

And I could see Jason’s pale skin turn bright red as he quickly obliged and threw his shirt back on over his head.

And then when Danielle and I were alone together later, buying ourselves some low-fat frozen yogurt, she made a comment to me, “Honestly, sometimes I’m not even sure it’s worth it. He does give excellent oral sex, though. Best I’ve ever had.”

To top it off, Danielle spent the rest of the day flirting shamelessly with Mario. I’m still not entirely sure if the two of them ended up hooking up. It wouldn’t surprise me.

But what really made me hate Danielle, what really made me despise her with every bone in my body was this:

I was having dinner with Jason, Danielle, and yet another of my boyfriends. (God, I had a lot of boyfriends back then. What a slut I was.) Anyway, the restaurant, chosen by Danielle, had two steps to get inside. Jason can manage two steps, but it took him a bit of effort and he wasn’t terribly happy about it, I could tell. And then when we got seated at our table, Danielle said, “Won’t it be nice when you won’t have to worry about stairs anymore?”

I looked at Jason, who was shaking his head like this was something he really, really didn’t want to talk about. But curiosity got the better of me. “What do you mean?” I asked her.

Danielle brightened. “Well, there’s this new experimental treatment that Jason’s going to try. It’s in very early stages, but the success rate’s been really good and they’ve been able to get a lot of paraplegics walking again. I pulled some strings and Jason’s been enrolled in the study.”

I looked at him in shock. I couldn’t even imagine Jason not being in a wheelchair.

“I’m not doing it, Danielle,” he said tightly.

My boyfriend, Rob, spoke up, “What are you—nuts? Wouldn’t you want to walk again?”

“Exactly!” Danielle said triumphantly.

Jason’s green eyes met mine. “This study is time consuming and . . . and painful. And the success they’ve had is with people who have been injured less than six months. I was injured over
twenty years
 
ago.”

“That doesn’t mean they won’t have success with you,” Danielle said.

“Didn’t you read the information they gave us?” Jason said. “It said some of the subjects, especially the ones with older injuries, were left with chronic pain.”

“There are always risks,” Danielle snapped. “Isn’t it worth it? For the chance to walk again?”

“No,” Jason said. “It’s not.”

Danielle later laid down an ultimatum for him: either he enrolled in the study or they broke up. Since they’re not together now, you can guess what Jason’s choice was. When we talked about it, he said that he couldn’t be with a woman who wouldn’t accept that he was disabled. He’d been in a wheelchair practically his whole life, after all, and he was totally comfortable with it. He didn’t feel like it was something about him that needed to be changed.

So I guess in that sense, Melissa is a huge improvement over previous girlfriends. As far as I can tell, she actually really likes him and has no issues with his being in a wheelchair. She’s as big a financial success as he is, so she’s obviously not using him for his money. She’s actually, in many ways, the perfect girl for him. The only problem with her is that she doesn’t seem to like me. But I’m not going to make a big thing about it, because Jason’s had so much bad luck that I’d never begrudge him a great girl.

So I guess we’re going to have a double date.

Four

Faithful and reliable as always, Larry calls me again the next day. He reiterates that he had a great time and he’d love to see me again. “I’d love to see you again too,” I say, still lying through my teeth.

“Wonderful,” Larry says.

“So, Jason and Melissa were thinking that we could double date with them,” I suggest.

“Oh,” Larry says. “Wonderful.” That must be his favorite word, which is funny, because he says it with so little enthusiasm.

So that’s how we end up next Saturday night at a Greek diner in Midtown, the four of us: Jason, Melissa, Larry, and me. We didn’t want to go anywhere fancy, and this is a diner Jason and I have been to a lot, and we know it’s wheelchair accessible (a lot of places in Manhattan are not). Another point in Melissa’s favor is that she isn’t the kind of woman who seems to need to be taken out to expensive places. And Larry, of course, doesn’t care either way.

I feel a little awkward at dinner because I am the least dressed-up person at the table. Larry, Jason, and Melissa are all wearing suits, because, believe it or not, they all just came from work. That’s right, all three of them were working all day on Saturday. Jason’s lucky he’s dating another banker, otherwise he’d never be able to get away with being such a workaholic.

I’m actually amazed and envious at how crisp and fresh Melissa looks, despite the fact that she tells us she’s been up since six this morning. She’s wearing an expensive-looking dark suit with a skirt that falls to a respectable level just above her knees, which is long enough to show off her spectacular legs. She’s naturally pretty and doesn’t usually wear much makeup, although lately I’ve noticed she’s started wearing a little more around the eyes. Her long, dark hair is swept back into an elaborate bun that I think you’d call a chignon. . . . In any case, it’s very elaborate looking. I could never even figure out a French braid, although it doesn’t really matter since my hair is too short for much beyond a small ponytail.

Larry also looks nice in his suit, but he definitely seems a bit tired compared with the eternally fresh Melissa. Jason looks tired too, but he’s sort of cute when he looks tired. Also, he’s wearing the green tie I love that is the exact same shade of green as his eyes. That tie is fantastic on him. I wouldn’t admit this, but every time I see him wearing that tie, my heart does a little thud in my chest, despite the fact that I’ve known him forever and I obviously don’t feel that way about him. But just objectively, Jason is a pretty cute guy.