Contract of Fists

Her: Well, I’m single, you can give his number to me.

He turned red. Noticeably? Had she noticed? In a way he was wishing she had. Although maybe it did not matter, he felt that that was her way of telling him that she was not available. Or rather, she was available, but not to him. He shook his head.

Her: What?

He sat still, he was fighting an urge to shake his head again or to directly spew a big No.

Her: Why?

He just could not speak. He was incapable. His silence, his blushing, his desperate stare, but most of all, his refusal to speak had to be enough to dissuade her. Later he would come to realize, from this moment, that it contained the sign he had been looking for. He was trying to figure out whether he liked her or not, but the moment she asked for that guy’s number, he had to refuse, for he actually did. Indeed.

She mentioned how she was done dating guys in their field of work after a bad experience with one of them, she wanted to find a good man from her own country, or at least from a similar culture to hers. He was starting to pick up the hints, had she realized that he had some interest in her? Was she being diplomatic to avoid a confrontation? Was she navigating her way steering away from that common iceberg where she tells the guy “I don’t see you in the same way”? Was she trying to salvage yet another of those lost vessels of friendship where two people had given opposite names to a ship they were not on board yet?

They moved to other topics, but he had to come clean, it was bugging him too much and he could not keep it inside. Anyways, she had made it clear enough that she did not want anything with him, so why not just put it all out, move past it and perhaps even get a good laugh at it.

Him: You know what? What the hell I want to be honest with you. There’s a reason I won’t give you my friend’s contact.

Her: What’s that?

Him: I am still trying to decide whether I like you. It’s my own contact the only one I want to hand you.

Her: You’re what? You’re trying to decide?

Him: Yes, it’s not easy. You know… It’s hard to know if I like you, because I have never seen someone as beautiful as you. If I like you, I want to make sure is not just by the way you look.

Her: You shouldn’t like me.

There was no pause and he noticed that, it was very natural for her. She knew what she wanted, or rather what she didn’t. If any of the earlier signs she had given him were unintended, this one was not. He had to reckon, though, she was being outstandingly friendly about it. But he was also not set on anything yet, he meant it when he said that he was still pondering.

Him: Ok. I can do that.

She made a fist and offered it to him. A fist bump. As much as he hated leaving someone with an open hand (or a closed fist in this case) hanging, he had to be true first and foremost. He had to be sure that he could stay true to that fist before bumping it.

Him: Wait, I need a minute.

She seemed confused.

Him: To make up my mind. I need to convince myself.

She waited.

Him: Ok.

He held his fist up doubtingly.

Him: Is it still available?

Their fists bumped and they smiled. The cosmos proclaimed them friends in a solemn act.

Her: So you want to fall in love? Isn’t it too soon to be looking for that?

Him: I do. I need to find someone to love.

Her: Do you think that’s healthy?

Him: That’s just who I am. I need to give myself away.

She could not agree with that and maybe he was not really healthy, like she suggested. But he seemed to have accepted himself as such, a long time ago, and she could respect that. She had something to teach him, but he was not open to learn and there was not much she could do about it. Not that she felt compelled to either. She didn’t have all answers anyway, that was a point they both had reached in their own ways, they both knew better than taking “the greater good” too seriously.

Her: It’s set, I will help you find a girlfriend. What do you like in women?

Him: In one wand I like women who look Asian and women who are tall. On the other hand I value when they are very smart and very funny.

From her point of view, the remark felt a little odd. Was he trying to describe her? Was he trying to turn things in such a way that she could only think of herself as the best match for him? She was definitely Asian, and she was certainly tall and exceedingly funny. So, was he trying to say “this is how you appear to me”, and in that way cynically compliment her on being smart? It bothered her that he was making such an intended comment right after accepting to stop flirting. But she looked past that. After all, compared to other guys, he was being quite polite about it and so she chose to overlook it.

Her: Do you have any preferred nationalities?

Him: Chinese and thai.

From his point of view, in turn, the remark was freeing. He felt relieved. He was being fully honest about something that under normal circumstances one discloses only to someone they are not interested in. On top of that, Asians were a lot and he was not particularly leaning towards Koreans despite his record. She was also not particularly tall according to him, so, for all he knew she was quite smart and that was about it.

They would probably never find out how diametrically opposite their evaluation of that remark had been.

Her: Chinese?

Him: Anyways you don’t need to help me with anything. I believe love will happen regardless of what you’re looking for. I don’t think it’s a good idea to follow these “standards” very narrowly.

They jumped to lighter topics for a while and relaxed. Some kind of weight had been lifted and they had a few silences to enjoy as well. Slowly the night started to approach its closure and they both were satisfied. They were both friends in each other’s eyes. He was still looking at the most beautiful woman in the world and it was impossible not to see her that way, but he was confident that he could treat her as a friend. She was confident too, whether he found her as beautiful as he said (which was for sure not something she could accept as true), that her best version was as a friend than anything else. Friendship was the best gift she could bless anyone with and he would come to understand that eventually.

Him: My friend is at the bar, he just hit me up.

Her: You can leave if you want, I will chill here a little longer.

Him: I mean, you could join us if you’re in the mood.

Her: I think I will pass on that this time.

Him: Let me show you something.

He pulled out his phone and opened an instagram chat with their common friend. In it he was referring to a post she had never seen, some text in his native language, which he had conveniently translated for their friend.

The message read: “Everything was ok while you were still a dream. The problem came when you became real, when you looked at me and smiled. When you birthed my name. Because someone like you only made sense in an oneiric world. Reality had no business pretending to shape your eyes and your lips into existence, and still there they were defying it.” As it read in the chat, he had disclosed a few days before to their friend, that he had written this small text inspired by her.

Her heart pumped extra hard just once and the blood in her veins rushed for a moment into her whole body. It was not because of believing that he meant everything he had told her before, it was believing, if only for a moment, that she could actually be what he saw in her. Words spoke to her, words were her language in a way he probably didn’t understand. She didn’t understand it herself, how could anyone. It wasn’t him speaking, those words spoke from a further place. In a way, she had made those words her own.

Her: I am uncomfortable now.

He smiled triumphant.

Him: You are supposed to be.

He was enjoying it and he was making no effort to hide it.

Her: I need to excuse myself for a moment.

The mirror of a washroom that oddly mixed luxury and carelessness showed her a foreign image. For a few moments she did not recognize herself. She had seen herself in the mirror so many times before, always wanting to be that person. Ever feeling that she could never quite reach the image on the other side, as if her own reflection mocked her. And for once, she felt exactly the contrary. She was more than her reflection. The real her, the one standing on her own side of the mirror, was the better one.

Her: So, is your friend still at the bar?

It had taken her just a minute, but she seemed to have completely overcome her former discomfort. They were friends again, had he unconsciously tested her too, to see if she could also stay true to her own side of the fist bump?

Him: I don’t know, when we’re done here I will ask him if he’s still there.

Her: Ask him, if he’s there I will join you.

His heart skipped a beat, had she had a change of heart? He shook his head mentally to take himself off that thought, he was betraying his fist bump.

Him: Sure.

She seemed more focused than before, and still somehow withdrawn.

Her: Why did you show me that?

She was talking about the text from before. He felt a sort of deja vú. He had already been asked to explain something that did not require an explanation before.

Him: I just wanted to. In any case I showed it to you in a recognition of the wooing being over. If I were still flirting with you, I wouldn’t have showed it to you.

She sat back withdrawing herself briefly again.

Her: I am not that smart.

Him: Are you trying to convince me not to like you? It’s okay, you don’t--

Her: You said you like smart women. I’m not that smart. I am very funny, but I am not that smart.

Who was she trying to convince, and what was she trying to convince them of? Did she even know what she was telling him? Was it the period in which one returns an item they just purchased while the store still takes it back no questions asked? She was returning that fist bump and she didn’t even know why.

Him: Now it’s me who’s uncomfortable.

Her: Why?

Him: You’re smart enough to know why.

Only then she realized. She hadn’t meant to get a message across, but she had slipped one and he had picked up on it. Her words had already taken over her own will, so what the hell, she let go of the reins in her throat one last time.

Her: So, you were trying to figure out whether you like me or not, huh? What did you decide?

They were on the same page and he could not believe his ears.

Him: Like I told you, it’s hard to know because of how pretty you are.

She smirked. She needed time to process too.

Her: Take your time then, oppa. Take your time to think about it and figure it out.