by Lisa De Jong
Leo looks around the room at large and says, “Anything can be funny as long as it’s happening to someone else, right?” He makes a disgusted sound and then guides me to the door. The principal, Mrs. Henry, is just turning into the cafeteria, and Leo says, “Evie accidentally dropped her tray. I’m walking with her to the restroom.” “Oh, okay,” she says, glancing at me worriedly. “I’ll call the janitor to clean it up. You okay, dear?” she asks, and I just nod as we walk out, wondering why Leo didn’t tell her what Denny did. I’m too embarrassed to say a word though.
Willow rushes up behind us in the hall, grabbing my elbow and whispering, “Evie, are you okay?” Willow always seems to be whispering, as if she thinks that if she talks too loudly, she’ll alert someone to her existence. I look down at her and give her a reassuring smile.
We leave Leo in the hall and go into the girl’s restroom and I clean up my shirt with wet paper towels as best as I can and wipe the food splatters off of my face and out of my hair. Then I stand in front of the blow dryer for a few minutes until my shirt is mostly dry. I sigh as I stand in front of the mirror, biting the inside of my mouth and looking at myself for several minutes. I know what everyone sees; bangs that are too long because no one takes me to get regular hair trims, old clothes that are getting too tight, the fact that I need a training bra (I’m too embarrassed to ask someone to buy one for me), and shoes that flap when I walk because the sole is coming loose.
My eyes move to the left to watch Willow looking silently at me, too. She smiles her shy Willow smile and says, “That boy likes you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Leo?” I smile back. “Nah, he just doesn’t like Denny Powell.”
“Probably not. But he still likes you.” She grins.
I grin back and grab her hand as we leave the restroom.
Leo is standing against the wall across from the restroom with one leg bent, foot against the wall and his hands shoved in his pockets. He smiles as the bell rings and says, “Come on, I’ll walk you girls to class.” Then he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small bag of peanuts, hands them to me and winks. My lunch.
****
I’m sitting on the front porch of my foster home after school doing my homework when Leo walks up the front path. My eyes widen as I realize that he has a swollen, black eye and a bloody lip.
“Oh my God. What happened?” I whisper, standing and walking to him.
He grins though and so I stop, put my hands on my hips and look questioningly at him.
“Leo, what exactly is funny about getting beat up?”
“The fact that Denny Powell looks worse than I do.”
“Leo! He’s twice your size! He could have KILLED you. I can’t believe you did that. Why?”
He purses his lips and looks at me as if he’s irritated. “Because he had it coming, that’s why.”
I take a deep breath, reaching out to touch him but then drawing back. “Your face, though. It looks painful.”
“This kind of pain is the easy kind,” he says and brushes past me, into the house.
I know what he means, too. I think of that saying, “Sticks and stones can break your bones, but names can never hurt you,” and how it’s all backwards. Sticks and stones and fists CAN break your bones, but it’s the words that break your heart.
CHAPTER 9
The next day as I’m taking my break at work, I notice that I have a missed call, and then I see a text from the same unknown number.
Call me when you get a minute, beautiful. JM
Oh Gosh! It’s Jake! And he called me beautiful.
I dial his number nervously, and he picks up immediately with, “Evie.”
“Hi, Jake.” Why do I sound all breathy? Damn.
“Listen, I’m running into a meeting so I can only talk for a minute, but I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “Um, I – “
“Evie, it’s a yes or yes question,” he says teasingly.
I smile. “I – yes, that will work,” I say, suddenly feeling shy and out of my element.
I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Um – “ I stutter, stupidly.
“See you tonight, Evie,” he says and hangs up before I can stutter into the phone any more than I already have.
Holy hell!
****
This is one of those times when I wish I had a tub. I’d freaking love to soak in a tub before my date with Jake. I’m not completely sure why. It just seems like something I should be doing before a date with Jake Madsen. A date with Jake Madsen!
I allow myself a moment of panic. I’m completely out of my element here. This doesn’t feel safe at all. What if he tries to kiss me? Maybe I should cancel. I have no idea how to date.
I pull it together. It’s just dinner. If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll tell him I don’t feel well and come home. Okay, I can do this.
I take a shower, shaving everywhere, and then moisturize completely, every inch. I take off my old toenail polish and brush on new candy apple red on my toes.
While my toenail polish is drying, I dry my hair carefully, and then I take the curling iron to it until it’s falling down my back in loose curls.
I take a little extra time with my makeup, brushing on mascara as usual, but also using a little bit of black eyeliner, blusher and a sheer berry lip gloss.
I pull on a pair of black lace panties and a matching bra and then head over to my small closet.
I have no idea where Jake is taking me to dinner so I hemm and haww for several minutes over what to wear before finally texting Nicole.
Date with Jake! What do I wear to dinner? Didn’t tell me where we’re going.
What??? You owe me a shitload of details tomorrow. Black slacks, cream, lace cami you wore to my birthday dinner and your black, strappy sandals. Black wool coat over cami. But keep it off when you answer door. ;)
K. You lifesaver. xxoo Talk tomorrow.
Uh, yeah we will. ;) Be good. Sneak a pic of Mr. Gorgeous for me. xxoo
Bcuz that wouldn’t be awkward at all.
:p
I pull on the outfit Nicole picked and look at myself in the mirror. The black slacks are tame enough, but the cream lace cami is all kinds of sexy, and I fidget in front of the mirror, wondering if I can pull it off in front of Jake. It has spaghetti straps and an empire waist so it’s fitted on my chest and then flares out, further accentuating the swell of my breasts.
I turn away from the mirror, taking a deep breath. I decide to open a bottle of wine and have a glass before Jake arrives, to give me courage and calm my nerves.
I’ve just taken my fourth sip of wine when I hear a knock on my door. It’s 6:53.
I pour my unfinished wine down the drain and rinse my glass quickly before I walk to the door. Jake smiles at me as I swing it open. My eyes run over him and his dark gray slacks, button down white shirt, black belt and black dress shoes. Oh my. He walks in without being invited, and suddenly his hands are cupping my jaw and pulling me firmly to his body.
Hi.
There is a second where our eyes meet, and I register the fire in his before his mouth crashes down on mine.
I make a noise at the back of my throat and lift my arms around his neck.
His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, and I whimper as my own tongue meets his.
God, he tastes so good.
It’s been a really long time since I’ve been kissed. And I’ve never been kissed like this.
My body presses into his to get more of him as his tongue plunders my mouth, our tongues dancing, drinking. It is delicious, demanding, and very, very hot.
One of my hands come up to his soft hair, and I run my fingers through it as one of his hands comes down to cup my ass, and this feels very, very good and so I whimper into his mouth again to which he moans into mine, and I feel that moan between my legs.
My knees are weak as I cling to him. His kiss has become my
anchor to this earth, the very reason for my existence.
So when he tears his mouth from mine, breathing hard and stepping back, I make a sound of protest in my throat, and my eyes slowly open to see Jake grinning down at me.
“Damn, you can kiss.”
I smile shyly up at him, trying to get my bearings, breathing heavy and with every inhale, drawing his delicious woodsy scent inside me.
“Wow – “ I say, stupidly.
“Yeah,” he says, grinning again. “Hungry?”
I blink up at him, and when his question registers, I say, “Yeah.”
I lock up and shrug on my coat, and he walks me out to his car, parked in front of my building.
“Doesn’t the norm dictate that you were supposed to kiss me after our date?” I ask, smiling up at him.
“Couldn’t wait.” He winks. “It was either kiss you, or go insane.”
Wow, I like that.
Jake lets me in the passenger side of his BMW as I grin up at him like a fool. I sink into the buttery leather seat, inhaling the new car smell. I’ve heard about this but never actually experienced it. I understand what all the hype is about now. I lean my head back and close my eyes.
Mmmm, new car smell.
He closes my door and walks around the car and slides in, and now I’m breathing in new car smell and Jake’s delicious woodsy scent. Yum. As he pulls out onto the street, he takes my left hand in his and brings it to his lips. Then we hold hands between our seats as he drives with his left hand.
“So, where are you taking me?” I ask, smiling.
“Do you like seafood?” he asks. “I thought we’d go to a restaurant on the river.”
“Yes, I love seafood. Sounds nice.” I smile.
We drive in companionable silence for a few minutes before my wheels start turning. I decide I need to know exactly what Jake Madsen’s intentions are when it comes to me.
I already feel like Jake holds all the power here and I already know he’s way out of my league, and despite knowing that, I am sitting in his car letting him take me out to dinner. I’m not a girl who is willing to take a lot of chances in life. That is who I am, who I have to be. And this man already has me all off balance, and I’ve only known him a week.
I realize that Jake Madsen is the type of man that women want to call their own. I’m not immune. But I’m not stupid, either.
“So, Jake,” I say, biting my lip, “do you date a lot?”
“No.” Then he pauses, thinking, and goes on, “There have been a lot of women, Evie, but no, I didn’t date many of them.” He glances at me, gauging my reaction to that snippet of information, and then turns back to the road. “I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth. Does that bother you?” He seems troubled.
I’m not completely sure why Jake shared this with me, but I have an idea and it’s not good. I remain as expressionless as possible when I say, “Jake, I can’t be your fuck buddy.”
He doesn’t look at me when he says, “I don’t want that with you, Evie.”
My stomach plummets to my feet. Oh, shit! I’m an idiot!
“Oh. I just thought…I mean, I… Because…” I stutter. Oh God, Can I please die now?
“Evie,” he says quietly, finally looking at me, “what I mean is, when I fuck you, you’re going to be mine. Is that clear enough for you?”
Oh!
I stare straight ahead, not knowing what to say. His words, unbelievably arrogant as they are, are shooting electricity straight between my legs. I clench my thighs together.
“Evie, look at me. You feel this too, don’t you?”
And Jake is right because I know exactly what he means. The sparks between us are practically tangible. I have never felt this kind of physical heat and longing for another person. Not ever.
I nod at Jake. “Yes,” I whisper, feeling like I’ve just agreed to something, but I’m not sure exactly what.
He smiles over at me as he pulls into a parking spot in front of a restaurant called, “The Chart House.”
He shuts off the car and turns to me. His beautiful face is serious as he says, “Can I ask how many men you’ve dated, Evie?” He seems to be holding his breath.
I’m caught off guard and I feel my cheeks flame. I look forward and say flippantly, “So many men, Jake, but I doubt you’d say I actually dated many of them.”
His nostrils flare, and anger fills his eyes for a brief moment before he schools his expression and looks at me silently for a minute. “You’re fucking with me,” he finally says softly.
“It’s okay for you but not for me?” I ask.
“Yes, because you’re a better person than I am,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Jake – “ I start. But I’m not sure what to say. He might think he knows what kind of girl I am. I’m sure my inexperience oozes off of me. But what he doesn’t know is that I’ve never been enough for anyone. No one who I’ve needed has ever wanted to keep me.
“I just want an honest answer. I just want to know how many men have been in your life.” His jaw is hard. And what the hell?
I sigh. “I’ve dated a couple guys, mostly set-ups by my friend Nicole. No one seriously and no one more than three times. The last guy I went out on a date with was a year ago. We went out for dinner once, he asked if he could take me out again, I declined. Is that specific enough for you?” I feel embarrassed and irritated that he insisted on this information because spelling it out makes me realize how pathetic my social life is.
He takes my hand in his. “And in high school?” he asks.
“High school?” I shake my head slightly and laugh a hollow sounding laugh. “No, I didn’t date in high school.”
He gazes at me for a moment, and then he leans over and turns my head toward him with one finger on my jaw and kisses me sweetly on the lips.
“Time for me to feed you. And talk about lighter stuff. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh. I want to know who Nicole is, I want to know what your favorite movie is, why you love to run so early in the morning and what music is on your iPod. Wait there.”
He comes over to my side of the car, opens the door for me and lets me out. He takes my hand and we head into the restaurant.
****
The restaurant is beautiful, with a lovely view of the river, the food delicious, and we laugh and talk through dinner. I tell him about Nicole and Mike and Kaylee. I talk about what running means to me, about how I grew up feeling powerless and how running makes me feel strong and accomplished, a feeling I revel in. He nods like he understands this.
He seems to be interested in everything I’m saying and nods and smiles, encouraging me to continue. He makes me feel comfortable and interesting.
“You’ve done really well, Evie,” Jake tells me.
I frown slightly. What is he talking about? “I’m a hotel maid, Jake,” I say, as if he doesn’t already know this.
“Don’t ever be ashamed of the honest work you do to pay the rent. It’s damn rare that someone who comes from the background you do, doesn’t go on to repeat the cycle... drugs, early pregnancy, domestic abuse. Be proud of yourself. You deserve all the respect in the world. I think you’re incredible,” he says, looking at me with that beautiful warmth in his brown eyes.
No one has ever told me that they were proud of me. Not one single person. And so this hits me deep, and I feel wetness in my eyes. I look down, embarrassed, and take a sip of my wine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We’re quiet for a minute and although I don’t really feel like going into any details about my and Leo’s past, the curiosity is too much for me. I was in shock about Leo’s death the last couple times I was with Jake but this time, I find myself asking, “Can I ask you about Leo?”
His eyes snap up to mine and he nods. “Of course.” But he sounds a little wary all of a sudden.
“Was he happy? Did he have a good life?”
He pauses, and then, “I don’t
know how to answer that. I didn’t know him very well. I mean, outside of sports and partying, that sort of thing.”
I nod. I realize I’m biting the inside of my mouth, a bad habit I thought I’d left behind in foster care. I stop and take a deep breath. “When he left, he promised he’d keep in touch and he never did. Do you have any idea why?”
He looks sad, like he feels sorry for me, and that’s exactly why I didn’t want to bring this up, but I feel like I have to know.
“I’m sorry. I don’t. I don’t really know what his home life was like. And the first time he talked about you to me was in the hospital, and I’ve told you the extent of what he said.”
I nod, taking another sip of my wine. I feel like bringing Leo’s name up has thrown a melancholy over our date that wasn’t there before, and so I rally, smiling at Jake and saying, “This might be a little bit of an odd thing to say, but, well, if he was going to send anyone, I’m glad it was you. I’ve had a nice time tonight.”
He’s silent for a second, a strange expression on his face, but then he smiles big and says, “I’m glad he sent me too. I thought I was doing him a favor, but it looks like he did me a favor.”
After our plates are cleared, Jake reaches across the table and takes my hands, and says, “Can I take you out again?”
I nod yes, looking down and feeling shy.
The waiter returns Jake’s credit card, and he quickly signs the receipt and says, “Ready?” as he starts to stand up.
I smile and stand up too. He helps me on with my jacket and then grabs my hand again and we exit the restaurant.
We drive back to my apartment, chatting easily about the city and some of our favorite spots. He tells me a little bit about growing up near the beach and when I tell him I’d love to see the ocean someday, he grabs my hand and tells me he’d love to be the one to take me there.
I don’t answer, thinking it’s a little soon to be making plans that involve travel.
We drive the last couple of miles in companionable silence, the radio playing softly in the background.
We pull up a half a block down from my apartment because the spaces in front are all taken, and Jake shuts off the car but he doesn’t get out. He looks over at me, and I smile at him. I feel like we are cocooned away from the world in his warm car, just the two of us.
