“Happy birthday man!” he yelled in Paul’s ear.
“Cheers,” Paul yelled back, that single word slurred enough that Ralph knew he’d already had a few drinks in him. But, it was his birthday, Paul was expected to get wasted. He’d never been a troublesome drunk, so most of Ralph’s friends allowed Paul to continue to order more drinks.
“This is Shanda,” he told Paul waving a hand at Shanda, then turning to Shanda, “This is Paul, the birthday boy.”
“Oh. So this is the birthday boy! Well! Happy birthday Paul,” Shanda purred, in that shy, sexy way she had of talking.
“Thank you. You know what I want more than anything for my birthday? A kiss. That would be amazing. Would you be willing to gift me one??” Paul quipped.
“Sure,” Shanda answered without hesitation, and she immediately planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“That’s not where I meant,” Paul pouted.
Shanda giggled, and it was the sweetest sound Ralph had ever heard. The sound of it bubbled, and rose to a lovely pitch. “I know, but it’s what you get.”
“Do you want to dance?” Paul asked her. He fumbled a bit getting down off his stool but once his feet were on the ground, he didn’t sway as much.
Shanda nodded, and with a wave, she took off to the dance floor with Paul. As he waited for the drinks at the bar, he watched Shanda dance with his friend. Paul was spinning her, and she was laughing rather hard at whatever Paul was whispering to her out there. Ralph felt a twinge of jealousy. They were friends, he reminded himself. Still, he wished it was him making her laugh like that. Holding her like that. Spinning her and soaking in her enjoyment.
A slow number came next, and Paul drew Shanda into his arms. Shanda wrapped her arms around his neck, just like she had done to Ralph that day in her room. Ralph felt his manhood throb, and he forced his thoughts away from that night. She wasn’t his to mess around with. He had a girlfriend. Shanda needed someone who was unattached, like Paul.
But the thought of her being with someone else made him feel uncomfortable, but the more he watched them, the better he felt. They were having a good time together, and Paul was being respectful of her personal space. He didn’t demand anything from her, and Shanda seemed interested in hanging out with Paul, as well.
Ralph gathered the drinks, balancing six glasses with both hands, and returned to the table. He put the drinks down and slid in next to Michelle. She turned to him with a seductive smile and he pulled her against him and kissed her hard.
He felt her hand slide down his thighs and fumble with his zipper. Ralph groaned. Michelle had a way with her hands that drove him insane. Her fingers teased him, doing things that she knew took him to the very edge. At that moment, he could have forgiven her anything.
“Can your little friend do this?” Michelle whispered in his ear. “Or this?”
Ralph groaned in reply.
Chapter 3
Shanda looked at her bag again, double-checking that she had everything she would need—a shawl to sit on, her contributory bottle of wine, and her cheap, but decent-looking plastic glasses. Shanda didn’t really want to go on a picnic, but the lure of being close to Ralph was too tempting. They spent most of their lunches together or dinners, but nothing else had happened again between them. Much to her disappointment.
She closed her door, journeyed down the hall and knocked on Flora’s door, hollering, “Are you ready yet? Come on. Get a move on. Let’s get going.”
“Not yet, cool your jets. Come on in,” Flora called out in reply.
Shanda pushed the door open. As expected, Flora was nowhere close to being ready. She was in her bra and matching white panties, frantically running around in the cramped space of her room.
“I don’t know what to wear,” Flora cried.
She flung tops and skirts in a frenzy. She grunted in rage each time she looked at a different piece of clothing. The type of grunt that said ‘no way am I ever wearing this again. Might as well throw it in the trash because it makes me look like some kind of mutant.’ Shanda knew that noise well, and the frustration her friend was experiencing. She was no stranger to that, either. But she was growing impatient. She wanted to yell at Flora to just pick something already.
“Why am I not surprised?” Shanda mumbled under her breath, and loud enough for Flora to hear, she said, “It’s just a picnic.”
“Just a picnic?” Flora looked horrified. Her eyes popped wide open as she shot a glare at Shanda. Her red hair fanned out as she turned to look at her. “Are you mad? Ralph’s friends will be there, and they are HOT.”
“Yeah and so will Michelle’s giggly friends. Anyway, we need to get moving, we’re running pretty late.”
“How do you manage to pick the perfect outfit for every occasion?” Flora moaned. “What will I wear?” she screamed, sounding like a two-year old on the verge of a tantrum.
Shanda laughed. “Relax, we’ll find you something.”
She did not mention that she had spent over an hour herself picking out her outfit. She wore faded jeans with a pink spaghetti top and a light sweater.
Flora continued to rummage through the massive pile of clothes on the floor (Shanda had no idea if these were clean clothes, dirty clothes, or a combination of each), and picked out a pair of fashionable jeans and a pretty, sea-green top.
“There, that always looks great on you. It’s definitely your color”
“That—that was impressive. Thank you. Why couldn’t I do that myself?” Flora complained.
They left five minutes later to meet up with the rest of the guys at the parking lot. There was Ralph, looking so handsome in a cashmere sweater that showed off his wide shoulders, and a pair of dark blue jeans. With him were his friends Josh, Mike and two others whose names Shanda couldn’t remember, but whose faces she recognized. They were all very decent-looking men. She now understood Flora’s earlier struggle.
“Yummy,” Flora whispered.
Shanda laughed, but inside her heart was doing somersaults. If only there was no Michelle. She knew that Ralph felt the same way she did. Like now, he was looking at her appreciatively; with a smile that said he’d rather be alone with her. His eyes always roved hungrily over the length of her body whenever they met. Whenever they spoke, there was a magnetic pull between them, between the words they shared with one another. It was like the tension of her bow against the strings of her cello—the tension—but there was no release. Her eyes moved to his lips and she felt a deep longing, almost like a physical pain to kiss them.
Introductions were made and Flora and herself stood away from the group.
“Oh my!” Flora purred, lasciviously eyeing the group of young men.
“What is it?”
“Oh God I think I’m going to fall down. Tony is hot! He must be a movie star that I haven’t heard of.” Flora smirked, being dramatic as usual.
Shanda erupted in a sea of giggles, but turned to look at Tony to re-examine him. Shanda hadn’t seen anything about him that screamed ‘Hollywood.’ He was too short for her liking but she supposed for Flora, who was on the shorter side herself, he was perfect. Despite the lack of height, he was very muscular, and he had a model-handsome face with a square jaw and large, dark eyes. Plus he had a very full head of hair so shiny the light bounced off it.
“Yes, I do see what you mean,” Shanda murmured.
“Hey, keep your hands off. He’s mine. I saw him first.”
Shanda stepped back a foot or two, shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her. “Not interested, he’s all yours,” Shanda said dismissively, settling her eyes on Ralph.
He was laughing with his head tossed back, his ultra-white teeth gleaming, and he looked so happy; so carefree. His attitude was what Shanda loved the most about him. Ralph looked at the bright side of life, he was an eternal optimist, and he turned most of the people who comprised his world into optimists, also. It was practically impossible to be in a bad mood around someone so lighthearted, under
standing, and pleasant.
“You don’t have eyes for anyone else, even after all this time, do you, Shanda?” Flora mused in a soft voice.
Startled, Shanda turned to her. “What do you mean?” Her heart had picked up speed, and she felt her entire body heat. The last thing she wanted to do was admit feelings for a man who was unavailable. Not even to a friend of hers.
Flora held her stare.
“Oh. Come on. You can’t play coy with me. You know exactly what I mean. Ever since you came to St. Augustine, you’ve only ever had eyes for Ralph. He’ll hurt you, Shanda. He has Michelle. If he loved you the way you love him, he would have dumped her for you, but he hasn’t; has he? What does that tell you? I’m sorry to sound harsh, but it upsets me to think that you’d put your life on hold for a man who wouldn’t do the same for you.”
The truth of what Flora was saying hit her. Hard. And Shanda felt her insides twist with pain. She had never quite looked at it like that. If indeed, as she kept telling herself, Ralph did have feelings for her, he would have broken things off with Michelle. Sure, they fought a lot, but they always made up and got back together. Shanda sighed. It was painful, but she had to admit to herself that she was wasting her time.
At that moment, Michelle and a group of four girls came bouncing towards where everyone was standing. The months hadn’t improved Shanda’s relationship with Michelle, who greeted Shanda coolly before flouncing over to where Ralph and his friends were.
“Okay. We are all here, let’s go guys,” Ralph yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth for maximum projection.
They trooped towards the gate, taking a left turn at the road. The picnic site was a walking distance away, at the back side of St. Augustine. It was more of a forest, with a small, cleared-out patch of grass amidst the copse of pine trees. The patch of grass was perfect for picnics and other, small-group gatherings. And at the bottom of the hilly patch, a river flowed. It was a popular spot for students, but not for the townsfolk who had been driven away by the escapades of those students.
Ralph and Michelle walked in front of Shanda and Flora. Watching them walk together, so in sync with each other, laughing easily as only couples who were comfortable with each other did, Shanda felt a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated herself for being envious of Michelle. What Ralph saw in her, Shanda had no idea. Sure, she was a pretty girl, and she did have great body, but other than that, there wasn’t much to her. She could hardly hold a decent, even half-way intelligent conversation. Shanda understood that beauty went a long way with a lot of men, but she didn’t want to believe that Ralph may be such a man. A man even remotely like her father was a man she would have nothing to do with.
Shanda had tried being friendly with Michelle, simply because Shanda was a friendly person, and she hated the idea that someone out there couldn’t stand her. But Michelle could put off even the most eager of people. She liked to talk about clothes and the best clubs, and who had gone where. It was a trivia which exhausted Shanda to no end. Shanda couldn’t muster the pretend enthusiasm she’d need for a conversation about the things that were important to Michelle—things that mostly only went so deep as the skin. Shanda cared about things that were much deeper than that. So, she kept clear of her for the sake of both her mental health and Michelle’s, and accepted the fact that they would never be friends. But how could they even have been? Shanda now knew that she loved Ralph. It would be terrible to be friends with his girlfriend, knowing she was in love with him.
The whole situation was patently unfair. It was unfair to Shanda. It was unfair to Ralph. And it was unfair to Michelle. Even knowing all of this, admitting everything to herself, she still could not fully embrace the truth. She wanted to believe that there was a possibility. Maybe someday… she had an image in her head of the two of them. Old, gray, sitting on large porch in the summer, enjoying the breeze. Her, playing her cello while he reads the paper and taps a toe to the beat… it was all so childish. So silly. So impossible.
Shanda watched him as he prepared the area. He had the nicest features she had ever seen. Even now, stretching a picnic blanket, she admired his long, slender, and he did everything with such grace, forethought, and precision. Ralph never looked foolish, yet he had no problems with doing foolish things in front of people in order to uplift or amuse them. He was not self-conscious; he was confident without being cocky. Perhaps that’s one of the many things that made him so attractive, not only to her, but to anyone who had the fortunate chance to be in his presence.
They all removed their blankets and shawls and spread them as a patchwork; one huge blanket that spanned across the vast ground. They were eleven people in total, six girls and five boys. Shanda plopped herself down and removed the plastic cups and the glass of wine she’d brought with her.
“Anyone have a wine opener?” Shanda stood and called over the crowd, addressing the question to anyone, but of course, the person she hoped would answer her—actually did.
“I do, here; I’ll open it for you,” Ralph offered.
His hand brushed against hers as he took the wine opener and everything seemed to pause. It was so much like their first encounter, and the feeling transported Shanda to that day, back to the magic of the first time they’d met. He seemed to feel it too, because he left his hand to linger over hers just a little longer, and he looked into her eyes. Shanda felt short of breath, felt rather than saw, the quick bursts in which her chest rose and fell. The moment was shattered as soon as he took the bottle and shifted his concentration from her eyes, to opening the wine for her.
Shanda swallowed hard and looked around. Everybody was busy unpacking their own drinks, only Flora was looking at her questioningly. Shanda shrugged. As much as Ralph never acknowledged his feelings, Shanda knew he loved her too. They had so many moments like those ones, where their hands brushed against each other, or some other body part; time seemed to stand still, and they seemed to share the same short, quick bursts of excited breaths.
Ralph returned the opened bottle, doing his best to avoid meeting her gaze. He held the bottle out to her while staring in the opposite direction, laughing at something one of his friends said.
“Glass of wine anyone?” Shanda called out cheerfully.
As long as there was a chance that Ralph loved her, she felt happy. She knew loving another girl’s boyfriend was wrong, but Michelle did not inspire feelings of loyalty. And Shanda was not responsible for Michelle’s feelings, regardless. Sure, had Michelle been a good person, she would feel terrible. She would avoid Ralph. She would… still love him. But none of that mattered because Michelle was not a good person. She wasn’t kind to anyone. She seemed to view the world through her own, narcissistic lens.
Shanda poured a glass of chilled white wine for Flora, and Tony, who had moved to sit closer to them. Flora was quiet, tongue-tied by the presence of Tony, and Shanda decided to help her out by striking up a conversation with him, hoping Flora would gain the courage to jump in.
“I haven’t seen you around campus, which is your major?” Shanda asked him. She took a sip of wine, and shot a look at Flora that she hoped Flora interpreted as: don’t make me do all the talking to your love interest. You’re gonna have to at least try here.
“I’m in my last year of computer science,” Tony responded mechanically, as if he repeated the words twenty times a day. He didn’t look at Shanda as he spoke, and when he was done, he took a sip of his own drink while still keeping his eyes on Flora.
Shanda looked at both of them and decided to save her energy. They only had eyes for each other. So what if Flora couldn’t make conversation on her own? They seemed perfectly content to dumbly stare at one another, wordlessly. If that was good enough for them, it was good enough for Shanda, too. Shanda turned her attention to observing the interactions of the rest of the group. Ralph was talking with his friend Josh, but when there was even the slightest lag in their conversation, he turned his head and smiled at Shanda. More evidence that there was a c
onnection between them, Shanda thought happily. She was aware that this could also just be confirmation bias. She was looking for signs, so of course she was seeing them. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling. And she couldn’t reason herself out of it.
Michelle was not with her giggly friends; instead, she was talking to one of the newcomers. Shanda couldn’t recall his name, but he had very deep blue eyes, so deep they seemed like an extension of the clear blue sky. By the arch of her body, and the squeals of her laughter, Shanda could tell that Michelle liked him. He had very blond hair, blonder than Michelle’s and he resembled those handsome surfing men she had seen on TV.
After a while, Shanda looked away, disinterested, but she wasn’t bored. She loved people-watching, and now she watched as Michelle’s three friends dared each other to swim in the river. They stripped down to their bras and panties and went shrieking into the cold water. Michelle and the handsome guy she was talking to followed suit.
Shanda whistled when the guy pulled out his t-shirt over his neck to reveal a smooth, muscular torso, with only a few hairs dotted around his chest. She turned to whisper to Flora who just mumbled some gibberish back in a lazy attempt to appear as though she was listening. She wasn’t. She and Tony were in their own world. Shanda was on her own.
Ralph watched, his eyes thunderous with rage, as Michelle and the guy ran down and jumped into the river. Shanda watched him watching her, and felt a moment of pity for him. She felt angry with Michelle, too. That was a pretty rude thing to do in front of her boyfriend. She didn’t even have the decency to flirt behind his back, which would still be terrible, but somehow less so.
Ralph looked as though he would murder somebody, but he went back to chatting with Josh. The wine was going to her head, and Shanda felt a little tipsy. Michelle, Ralph and the others had been drinking whisky, and she wondered how drunk they must be feeling.
A Maze of Love Page 4
