Chapter Ten: A Byproduct of Confusion
"Francis!" I called. "Francis, wait, please!"
He stopped. He did not sigh or droop or even turn around; he simply stopped, and I stumbled to a halt behind him, stammering meaningless syllables as I attempted to overcome the guilt that filled me at that seemingly insignificant gesture.
But then he sighed and turned around, and his shoulders lost a bit of their tension. It amazed me how such small gestures changed his demeanor from cold and accusing to helpless and forgiving in an instant.
"Francis, I'm so sorry," I said, almost in a whisper. "I really didn't mean to-"
"You talked to me because I looked like Keith, huh?" Francis's voice was no louder than mine.
"Well, sure, I started talking to you because... But I kept- I mean, I danced with you and kept talking with you and everything because...well, I like you for you, and-"
"May I kiss you?" Francis interrupted me. I stared at him. Really, I couldn't think what else to do.
Apparently, Francis took my lack of response as assent, because he caught me by the shoulders and pressed his lips to mine.
I think it must have taken me a few minutes to register that Francis was kissing me. Even after registering that, there wasn't much that I felt I could do—pushing him away could ruin our friendship, but not pushing him away was bound to be equally destructive. What was I supposed to do?
But Francis pulled away then, saving me a bit of the dilemma.
I just stood there.
In retrospect, there are a lot of things I look back on and think, "I should have..." This was one of those moments. I should have pushed Francis away the moment I realized what he was doing. I should have made it clear to him right from the beginning how I felt about this whole situation.
But at the time, I was too confused.
"What-"
"Sorry," Francis said, his face flushed red. There was something endearingly sweet about the way that he looked so abashed. Nothing like the way Keith-
A wave of guilt came over me at the thought of Keith. Why? Every time something happened, it always came back to-
No. No, I was with Francis right now. I had to figure out how to fix this mess with Francis. The evil twin had nothing to do with it.
Maryann, on the other hand, did, I realized when I saw a blue skirt flutter around the building behind Francis. I felt the blood leave her face, and my ears began to ring.
Francis hadn't noticed.
"Francis," I said, trying to kep my voice from shaking.
"I'm sorry, Nadja," Francis's voice wasn't shaking, but he didn't sound like his usual self either. "I just...wanted to see if..."
"And?" I had to know. I couldn't say anything before I knew.
"Well... I enjoyed it-"
I couldn't stand it. "But there was no passion."
Francis paused. Then he sighed. "No. I suppose that when you compare me and Keith-"
"I'm not talking about Keith," I snapped. I was doing this a lot lately, I noticed. Maybe I was stressed. "I'm talking about you and me. The kind of passion I'm talking about isn't the kind that one person can produce. It takes two people who feel sincerely and passionately about each other!" I thought of my kiss with Keith—in my surprise, I had pressecd a little closer to Keith; with Francis, I had fractionally moved away. It wasn't about the individual...it was more that Keith and I just fit together in a way that Francis and I didn't. But how was I to explain that?
"Francis..." He looked rather castfallen, and I didn't know what to say. "I just...I don't feel about you that way. Not that I don't...well, love you...but just in a different way!"
Francis sighed, and then smiled.
"Sorry," he said again. "I guess I'm just confused."
"Maybe." How to approach this with delicacy? "But you might want to talk to Maryann about that."
My friendship with Maryann was probably just as at stake, but Maryann needed Francis more than she needed me.
"Maryann?" The blood left Francis's face. Then he seemed to regain control, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Nadja, but I really don't feel that way about her."
"But do you want to lose her as a friend? A friend you've treasured all your life, and you lose her because you couldn't handle that she liked you a little more than you wanted?"
Francis just looked away. I rubbed my face with the palm of my hand.
"Francis...I'm sorry. For what Keith said, for confusing you, for everything. I have to go do some damage control on Keith's side now—but please, can we part on friendly terms?" I looked up at him, putting all the desperation I felt into my gaze.
"Of course," he said, and if his smile was a little shaky, I pretended not to notice. "And I'm sorry...again."
"It's all right," I smiled at him, and the world shifted a little—it seemed just a little closer back to the place where it belonged.