I realize that it’s been a while since I’ve written a good narrative based on a memory, so here goes. Lindsey’s name has been changed for privacy. I apologize for the length.
The slapping sounds of frog flippers responding to the red of Matt’s shirt and the fluorescent yellow of mine contrasted sharply with the scratching of their claws on the base of the aquarium as they ran into one another, trying to hide from what they believed to be a predator. Maybe it was a mistake to wear bright colors today. We exchanged glances, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. Today would require extra care.
“Hey, guys,” I said quietly to them, and breathed into the tank so they’d pick up my familiar scent. With the number of students coming in and out combined with their natural instinct, it was only natural they’d be scared of us now. “It’s just us, nothing to be scared of.”
The two large females paused for a moment as I stood as still as I could with Matt beside me. The male kept moving, until he realized they’d calmed down. They then spread their limbs in the classic umbrella shape that aquatic frogs at rest normally take.
“I love this species,” said Matt quietly, as we moved slowly to fill a tank of clean water for them. We needed them to be as calm as possible, because they weren’t going to like what we were about to do to them.
“I know,” I said. “They’re big, easy to catch and care for, but they have sharp enough claws on their back flippers to make them interesting.”
He smiled at me and said nothing. African clawed frogs were one of the best things about working in lab. The next best thing was working with Matt, but I never talked about that one. With his soft blue eyes, dark hair, and gentle nature with a splash of quick wit, he was a real joy to work with.
I helped him hoist the tank on a cart. “You ready?” he asked, wheeling it toward the frogs.
I nodded, as he wheeled it as close to the table as possible. The frogs began to swim around again, their front arms searching, their eyes everywhere in caution. They had seen us.
I gently dipped my hand into the warm, dirty water. “Easy now,” I said, as they swam away at first. Sometimes, you just had to chase them.
I moved my hand around as they swam away from me, desperate to escape their fate, but at the last minute, I sped up, my hands catching one of the large females.
“Gotcha!” I said, as I gently closed my hand around her, careful to avoid the claws on her back flippers. I’ve never been scratched by them before, and I’d decided I’d like to keep it that way.
All of a sudden, the slamming door pierced the air. It was Lindsey, the half-Hispanic, passionate, smart blonde-wannabe. She’d dyed her ink black hair platinum blonde, and while I’ll admit there are some Hispanics who wear the color well, there was something about the shade that did not suit her.
“Hey, what are you doing to my frogs?” she asked, half-jokingly.
“Just cleaning the tank,” said Matt, matching her tone. “Why are we taking care of your frogs again?”
She glared at him, as I diverted my eyes and gently set the female into the tank.
“There you go,” I said. She swam happily around as she explored her new clean water.
Lindsey came over and stood next to me. “You’re too slow, you should just grab them.” She reached her hand in there, and grabbed the other female roughly around the middle.
“And who made you the frog expert?” said Matt. Lindsey was one of the few people he disliked, and he hated to see any animal mistreated. Kind, gentle Matt
“Shut it,” she said, as she gripped the frog way too hard, and she in response began clawing her hand. “OW! Stupid frog! Stop that!” She all but dropped her in the tank.
“You know, Rev’s been dealing with frogs almost her whole life, and I’ve grown up with animals, so—”
“—you both should be happy to take care of them for me,” finished Lindsey as she washed off her bleeding hands.
Matt and I exchanged glances, and silently agreed not to help her even though we were medically trained.
“Oh, you’re not going to help me? Some kind of doctors you’re going to be.” There was barely any wounds on her hands save for some minor cuts anyway. They’d heal fast, and they weren’t deep. I shook my head as Matt gently scooped up the male and placed him in the tank, tickling his tummy.
“Seriously, Rev, you don’t have to be a complete deadbeat after you die, you know,” she said. “Oh, and don’t get too attached, they’re going to die after I infect them, anyways.” She turned on her heel, the door slamming behind her as her loose fake blond hair trailed behind her.
“Bitch,” said Matt. “And I don’t think you’re a deadbeat. I know what it’s like to die and be literally dragged back to this world. You realize what’s really important. It slows you down, makes you think.”
“Thanks,” I said. But her comment still stung. I looked away.
I heard him sigh, and then strain as he lifted the dirty tank on his own. I snapped back to myself as I helped him pour it out and clean it.
We checked the frogs one last time.
“Bye frogs, I’m sorry she was mean,” he said, stroking the back of the female that Lindsey had roughly handled.
As I turned to leave, I heard him cry out. I turned to see that same female had jumped out of the tank and landed on Matt’s crotch. She was pretty big, too, about the size of a dessert plate, so it probably was pretty painful landing.
“Oh, no!” I said, as Matt and I tried to coax her off, but she only dug her claws in, much to Matt’s dismay.
“Maybe I should have worn something with a little more protection than athletic shorts?” Matt laughed, as we just decided to let her sit there until she calmed down. Matt stood as still as he could, and it wasn’t long before she relaxed her grip and we could take her off and set her in the tank again. Apparently she’d gotten over her fear and swam happily around.
Matt looked down at his slimy pants. “Maybe I’ll wash these out in the sink, they look kinda gross.”
I nodded and averted my eyes as he slipped out of his pants. Nudity didn’t bother either of us, but I didn’t trust my hormones with him, and Matt had beautiful legs.
When I heard him begin to wash them in the sink, I couldn’t help but to check out his round, muscular butt. And I was worried about my hormones going wild when he was taking his pants off. Silly me. I averted my eyes again.
All of a sudden he was next to me. I looked up to find his face inches from mine.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to wait for them to dry,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “I’ll stay here with you.”
He smiled, and for the first time, I realized that I’d been hiding my emotions in vain. Matt wasn’t stupid, and he was the one person who knew me best. I knew from the moment he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips.
“I—” I began.
“Hush,” he whispered, and locked the door. “You mind if I turn off the lights?”
“In here?” I whispered back, following him around as he stripped off his shirt, and washed his hands thoroughly.
He answered me by turning around and kissing me hard, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his crotch, his other hand holding me there, steady, easing its way down my back.
“I love you,” said his breathy voice in my ear as he traveled around my neck.
I arched my back as he brought my leg up, over his hip. I ran my hands over his muscular body, feeling the symphony of his body tense and relax. Wasn’t this what I wanted? Didn’t I love Matt in secret? I didn’t realize how passionate he was deep inside, hidden underneath that gentle nature. I should have known.
“No,” I said, pulling away from his kiss. I had to bite his lip to make him snap out of it. “Look, I like you, Matt, I really do, but I really can’t do this right now. I’m not emotionally ready.” I flicked on the light. How did we end up on this side of the room again?
“What?” he asked. “Did I say something?”
“No,” I said, and handed him his clothes. “I just…need to go.”
I took one last look at the frogs, swimming like they were in a whirlpool. “Goodbye,” I said, and shut the door gently behind me.
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