Fancyman Part 1.5
"I can't just jump into something if I don't know what's going to happen. I have never been that guy. If I don't know what's gonna happen, I don't do something. Ever. I don't care how bad I want to do it. I don't do it."
It was true. He didn't jump into things where the outcome wasn't safe or comfortable.
That was the problem: Jess was comfortable. She was warm and inviting, encouraging Nick to feel both safe with his thoughts, opinions and person. She built him up and encouraged him to build himself up.
But the outcome? Of jumping into Jess? Nick didn't know. So, he pushed it away to feel a sense of control over outcome. He didn't know how he felt, nor did he take the time to understand his feelings.
All he knew was that Russell liked Jess, so he told her.
"He likes you, Jess."
.
Nick was a scattered mess of a man. He was lazy, generally foregoing introspection if it made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to suck on the teat of consumerism… he didn't know what he wanted. It was all just a jumble of feelings inside; feelings that he chose not to sort out.
One feeling that was clear to him?
The tightness in his chest telling Jess to go for Russell. The possessiveness, the feeling of loss. Was it the high road he was talking by encouraging her to pursue someone who could potentially make her happy? Or was it stupidity in ignoring his attraction to her? Nick didn't know.
.
They got back to the apartment that night, mindlessly talking to one another on unrelated subjects. Winston and Schmidt were in the living room, watching a movie. Schmidt, in his Irish Walking Cape, Schmidt in his sweatpants.
Nick and Jess retreated to their rooms. Nick, changed out of Russell's sweater that was the physical embodiment of all was masculine, and changed into his ratty, faded jeans and an old grey t-shirt. It was all he had; it was Nick. He looked at himself in his mirror, a strange combination of dissatisfaction and self-awareness.
In the living room, Jess was hunkered down on the couch, glasses, plaid and leggings on. She looked sweet, ordinary. Content. She had sat down in the middle of Schmidt and Winston's movie with a stack of one-page summaries of some Judy Blume book she had her class read.
Nick sat next to her.
Winston asked how the evening went, not taking his eyes of the movie. Jess responded quickly, with an evasive "It was okay". She didn't look up from her papers, either. The conversation was dropped, with Winston's total absorption in the film.
Nick thought about this. Okay? Had Jess not been attacked by a Japanese toilet, fallen into a koi pond, and been asked out by a perfectly decent man? He figured the night warranted more elaboration than "okay".
But he didn't say anything. He just sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, feigning investment in the plot of a movie that he had no interest in. Nick leaned over to Jess, nudging her. "You grading Russell's kid's yet?"
Jess was strangely quiet. "No, not yet."
Nick nodded and went back to staring at the tv.
Jess nudged Nick. "Hey," She drew out the hey, tilting her head back in typical Jess fashion. "So thank you for coming tonight."
Nick shrugged. He bobbed his head up and down, his way of acknowledging that it was no problem, making his turtle face.
She said nothing else, but flashed him a genuinely grateful smile. It was potent, that smile, and seemed to say a multitude of things at once. And she didn't look away, not for a good couple seconds. She lingered, her eyes extremely clear and expressive.
Nick swallowed and smiled back.
Fin.