Eluding Fate

by Delilah Mohan

  Friend-Zoned.

  I somehow managed to be friend-zoned, and although I thought I was okay with it, I truly wasn’t. But to risk a friendship for a whim? That was probably not worth it either, and as much as I hated to confess it, I needed her. I needed her in my life any way I could get her because I’d come to depend on her friendship, her kindness. I’d come to depend on her.

  I was so lost watching them that I didn’t realize a mom had snuck up on me until it was too late. Her hand touched my back and traveled lower, causing me to turn quickly in her direction. The blonde in front of me smiled like a shark with twinkling, hopeful eyes.

  “You look lonely, care for some company?” she purred, leaning her body close to mine as I tried my best to lean back away from hers.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I was just leaving.” I tried not to inhale, fearing I would choke on the cloud of perfume that now surrounded us both.

  She took hold of my arm, digging her well-manicured fingers into the sleeve of my shirt. She reminded me so much of Belen, and I tried to push that aside because I had finally gotten her to stop calling, and my mind couldn’t handle more of her right now. “Aren’t you Spencer Sully?”

  I swallowed the sand in my throat, trying to ignore the taste her perfume had left in the air. “I am.”

  She giggled and clung on tighter, “I knew it! I told Donna that I thought it was you, but she insisted you would never show up at a middle school dance.”

  Placing my fingers over hers, I tried my best to pry my shirt loose. “Well, here I am. But, I’m about ready to go. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Jenny. My name is Jenny.” She giggled again, and I tried having patience, knowing this came with the job. It happened everywhere I went, and I was usually okay with it but not this time. I wasn’t in the mood.

  “It was nice meeting you, Jenny. But, really, I’m just on my way out.”

  Her lower lip came out in a sultry pout, and the only thing it was succeeding at was solidifying my resolve. “Can’t you just stay a little longer?”

  “I’m sorry, really I am. But I promised my niece I would do a drop off only. You know how girls are,” I tried to explain, hoping that she took it for what it was without forcing me to explain further.

  She gave me sad eyes before finally relenting, “Well, it was nice meeting you. Feel free to come visit us any time. The PTA would love to have you.”

  Yeah. No. There was no way I was being roped into the Parent-Teacher Association so that they could spend their whole meetings ogling me like the Kobe beef Victoria claimed me to be. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I gave her one gentle pat on her arm, then snaked past her, making a line to the balloon arch that signified freedom. On my walk through the parking lot, I considered going home. It was what I promised Victoria I was going to do. But once I made it to my car, I decided to stay. I reasoned that the drive time wasn’t worth the extra trip, but even I knew that wasn’t the reason.

  I wanted to keep an eye on her. I wanted to peek in when no one was looking and observe Mari’s date. I wanted to know if she was having too much fun so that I could try my hardest to top it. I wouldn’t call it spying on her, only being cautious of her safety, concerned about her companion . . . observing.

  So, I stayed.

  And when no one was looking, I watched.

  When nine thirty rolled around, and the dance was coming to a close, I hoped like hell her date, and future relationship with this guy was closing, too; the guy who pushed back her hair and made her laugh, the guy whose hand she held and shared her punch with. The guy who was so damn good to her but would never be good enough . . . because he wasn’t me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  MARI

  Waking up the morning after a night in heels was painful. My calves felt like they were still on fire, and every time I moved my toes, a single sharp dagger shot up past my heels and into my ankle. I was positive that I would be limping for a week, but I wasn’t even mad about it.

  Last night was fun. The energy with the kids was high, the group was polite and most importantly, Devon fed me the greatest steak I have ever eaten. Regardless, he wasn’t really the one for me. I knew it from the start, but having to admit it to him, especially after having such a great time, pained me a little. He got it, he understood where I was coming from completely, but it didn’t make issuing the blow any easier.

  My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and naturally, it wasn’t within reach. I decided to ignore it, choosing instead to stay put and avoid walking, but after the third buzz, I figured I would have no choice if I wanted peace because sometimes Raylee became insanely persistent until she got what she wanted.

  Hobbling over to the table, I picked it up just as it buzzed again. Glancing at the screen I was shocked to see that it wasn’t Raylee for once, but Spencer. For all his positive traits, texting wasn’t one of them. In fact, texting was rare, and although we had done it a few times in the past, it wasn’t like a daily part of our routine.

  Spencer: Are you up?

  Spencer: I know you’re up.

  Spencer: Be over in twenty minutes, we are going to the farmers’ market.

  Spencer: If I have to come over there, MAROON, I won’t even be polite about it. I’ll make you go in whatever I drag you out of bed in.

  I made an unladylike sound in my throat while rolling my eyes. He was so stubborn that any other way didn’t work for him. Once his mind was set, he got what he wanted. Admittedly, despite the pain in my limbs, the farmers’ market did sound fun, but that didn’t mean I should have to cave so easily.

  Me: I’m still asleep.

  Spencer: Liar. I can hear you moving around on the other side of the wall.

  Me: Creep. What are you doing? Standing there with a cup to your ear, listening?

  Spencer: The details are unimportant, be ready in twenty.

  Me: I can’t. I’m still in my pajamas, and I haven’t even eaten breakfast, yet.

  Spencer: So? Go in your pajamas. I’ll buy breakfast. You’re wasting daylight, woman. Some of us have been up for hours.

  Me: I doubt going to the farmers’ market in my underwear will be appropriate.

  I watched as the three texting dots appeared, then disappeared with a pause. Soon they reappeared, and seconds later the vibration in my hands let me know that there was a reply.

  Spencer: You sleep in your underwear?

  Me: What? The cup to the wall can’t confirm that detail?

  There was a long pause, and I couldn’t decide if I should say something else or wait out a response. Then, the dots appeared again, and seconds later my phone alerted me of his text.

  Spencer: You better have clothes on by the time I come over in twenty minutes, or we aren’t leaving your apartment.

  I laughed. If that text came from anyone else, I would almost think they were coming on to me, but Spencer. Nah. He’d never given me any indication that he was even remotely attracted to me. That didn’t halt my mind from the few seconds of wonder though, trying to decide how a man like Spencer would be in the sack. Giving and free? Controlling and taking? Maybe a mix of both?

  Me: Fine, but you’re buying coffee, too.

  Spencer: Don’t I always? See you soon.

  I tossed my phone on the couch, and slowly rose to my feet. The more I walked, the pain slowly eased. Once I made it to my bedroom, I tossed on a pair of skinny jeans, a flowy olive shirt, and flip-flops before taming my hair into a knot on top of my head. Like most days, I didn’t bother with makeup because I wasn’t out to impress the world, I just wanted to be me, and be happy while I did it. After brushing my teeth, I was done in ten minutes instead of twenty, so I decided to meet him at his place, knowing how much he appreciated early scheduling.

  When I approached, I noticed the door was unlocked, so I knocked as I opened it. Victoria was sitting in the living room folding her paper cranes, and I made a mental note to ask Spencer what the story was behind it. She loo
ked up at me, giving me a nervous smile, before concentrating on her paper art again.

  “How was the date last night? Was your little gentleman polite?” I asked when she didn’t offer any conversation.

  “He was okay at first, but then he ditched me for Vanessa Wright. Do you think it’s because she has boobs and I don’t?”

  “I think it’s because he’s an idiot, and you’re too good for him,” I stated.

  “I really wish I had boobs like she does. That would be amazing,” she sighed dreamily.

  “As someone who owns a set of boobs, I promise you, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” I patted her shoulder reassuringly.

  “Spencer seems to like your boobs well enough, so it’s obviously what guys want. Right?”

  I heard Spencer’s steps coming down the hall, a little swifter than usual. “Mari, don’t answer her. Victoria, stay out of adult business.”

  Finishing a paper crane, Victoria tossed it in the bowl in front of her. “Oh, so you admit there is business going on between you two?”

  Spencer continued rolling up the sleeves of his button up shirt, leaving crisp rolls by his elbows, “If by business you mean a friendship where she picks up my pesky niece from school, and I repay her with coffee and pastries, then yes, we have business.”

  “That’s not what I mean!” she huffed.

  “That’s all that you’re getting,” he countered. “Do you want anything while we are out?”

  “Where are you going?” she asked curiously.

  “The farmers’ market,” I chimed in. “Do you want to come?”

  The look that crossed her face was pure repulsion. “I don’t think I can be seen with him, sorry. It’s that . . . he’s so old. And, well, uncool.”

  “Hey now! I’m pretty sure we are about the same age. What are you saying about me?”

  She creased a new sheet of paper more aggressively than was necessary. “There is a huge difference between you and Spencer. You’re so cool, and he’s so . . . not.”

  She looked in his direction with a sneer, which apparently didn’t bother him in the slightest. Instead, he finished tying his shoe before looking at the watch on his wrist. “We are right on time. If we leave now, we should be there in about . . .” He paused configuring the travel time in his head. “. . . Nine twenty-three.”

  “Just an estimate, I’m sure,” I mocked, and Victoria snickered behind me.

  Completely oblivious to my apparent sarcasm, Spencer picked up the canvas tote he had sitting on the table by the door. “Ready?”

  We arrived and parked at nine twenty-two, which caused Spencer to sigh in relief because we were “early.” Missing my amused smirk, he asked whether I wanted to eat first then shop, or shop and grab food at the end of our excursion. After deciding coffee was the priority, we strolled through the entrance of the farmers’ market in search of the coffee stand.

  Once I had a white mocha in hand, happily sipping away, we wandered through the aisles of vendors, picking out produce and looking at knick-knacks. “What are you cooking for me this week?”

  I took a peach out of a vender’s basket and smelled it, loving the aroma. “Who said I’m cooking for you?”

  “A man has got to eat, plus . . .” he gave me that fucking pouty look, the one I couldn’t resist, “you always feed me.”

  “Just because I always do something, doesn’t mean I’m automatically going to do it.”

  I placed the peach back in the basket, then watched as he grabbed a bag and filled it to the rim. “Would you turn down a stray puppy if it showed up at your doorstep?”

  I watched as he paid for his peaches. “You’re hardly a stray puppy.”

  Reaching to my shoulder, he grabbed the strap of my tote and dumped half his purchase inside, then took my bag off my shoulder. “Do you want me to roam to Miss Baker’s door, instead?”

  I gave him an outraged face. “That cougar?! She would eat you alive.”

  “Speaking of being eaten alive, how was the chaperone date last night? Did those monsters crush your hope and steal your soul?”

  He walked close to me, trying not to lose me in the crowd. “It was close, but I luckily made it out intact.”

  “Preteens, it’s a rough time,” he stated, shaking his head.

  “So, did you have fun last night? The PTA didn’t sink their claws into you and drag you back to their den?” I leaned into him as we walked around a band playing in the center of the walkway, trying to avoid the gathering crowd.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He looked at me blankly.

  “Really? Because talk among the moms was that there was ‘a hot slice of manhood’ lurking around the dance throughout the night. Further rumors stated that the president of the PTA is planning to become the next Mrs. Sully.” I used air quotes to get my point across, and I didn’t miss his flinch at my information.

  “Okay. I was there, and I might have lurked. But, I just wanted to make sure Victoria was alright. It was her first date, you know, and the kid she was meeting there was so . . . meh.” His shoulders shrugged, and his face crinkled, demonstrating his true feelings toward the boy.

  “You didn’t trust me to keep an eye on her?” He took my arm and pulled me toward him, saving me from getting run into by some rambunctious children whose parents weren’t keeping a proper eye on them.

  “I trust you with her life, but I just had to see for myself.” His hand slowly traveled down my arm, past my elbow, a fleeting touch on my wrist, before his fingers tangled with mine. Staring down at our intertwined fingers and then back at him, I tried not to act confused because he seemed so casual. We had never done this before, never held hands and I wasn’t sure how to act or what it even meant.

  His fingers tightened around mine as he pulled me through the street’s crowd. When we finally reached a spot where the crowd had thinned, he didn’t drop my hand as I had expected, only continued walking. “So, how was the math teacher last night?”

  “He was a perfect gentleman,” I stated as I picked up a loaf of sourdough bread, still warm and soft from the sun. I held it to my nose and smelled, loving the fragrance of the sour, pungent dough.

  Releasing my fingers, Spencer took the bread from my hand, added another loaf, and handed the vendor a ten-dollar bill before placing a loaf of bread in each of our bags. “Were you out late? You seemed a little hard to nudge out of the apartment this morning.”

  “Not much later than you, I’m sure.” His fingers hooked with mine again, and he did it so naturally like it was something we always did. This was new and confusing, and I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn’t want to end the contact, either. It felt so different than anything I had previously experienced.

  “We left the moment the dance was over. No late-night partying for us.” I couldn’t help but snort at that.

  “Well, of course not. You have bedtimes after all.” I gave him a sly mocking smile, and I’m pretty sure he tried to trip me.

  Suddenly, I heard the vibration of my phone located in the bag on Spencer’s shoulder. Knowing exactly who it was, I hoped to spend my morning not answering calls from Raylee. “Do you want to answer this?”

  My face formed a grimace. “Nah, I think I’ll pass. It’s just going to be Raylee trying to get date details.”

  “Oh?” I watched as he reached into the bag just as the phone stopped ringing. Apparently, knowing Raylee like I did, he held it in his hand to wait for the next call. Without disappointing, the phone vibrated, and he looked at me with a devilish grin. Accepting the call, he held the phone to his ear, “Hey Ray, it’s Spencer. Yeah, I had her bag and answered it. Would you believe she was avoiding your call? You would?” he winked at me, “I’m going to put you on speaker okay, but keep it clean, we are at the farmers’ market. No, I believe you have the ability to get creative. Yes, we have children around.”

  He took the phone from his ear and hit the speaker button, then handed it to me. She instantly graced me with a rap
id round of questions; sometimes, I swear she acted like an overactive puppy. “It was fine, really . . . we had a lot of fun.”

  “Where are my details?” she asked.

  I tried to play dumb, knowing exactly what she meant. “What details? There isn’t much to give.”

  “Bullshit,” she coughed. “Did he put his . . . carrot . . . in your . . . radish?”

  Beside me, Spencer choked on his coffee. When he finally swallowed without coughing, he leaned into the phone to ask, “What kind of crap analogy is that?”

  “What? You guys are strolling the farmers’ market, I thought it was fitting.”

  He rolled his eyes, but agreed, “Fair enough, continue.”

  “Look, Babe. That’s all I want to know, that’s all that is important. It’s been ages since you broke up with Jack, and I honestly just want to know if the carrot breached the radish barrier.”

  I felt the fingers around mine grow tighter, but I was pretty sure he didn’t even know it was happening. “Jesus, there is no personal boundaries with you, is there?”

  “There never has been. So, let’s hear it.”

  “Don’t you think this would be better a convo at home when I’m not with Spencer?”

  She sounded exasperated, “Look, I’m sure Spencer doesn’t care about your sex life, just give me the basics to hold me over.”

  As she said that, I couldn’t help letting my eyes wander down to our interlinked hands. Did he care about my sex life? What did this even mean to him, if anything? Knowing that she wouldn’t let up until she got what she wanted, I finally relented. “Nothing breached anything. It was a fun night really, but we decided to just be friends.”

  Both Raylee and Spencer exhaled in unison, “Ugh, that was a waste of a dress if you ask me. Fun, all you got out of it was fun. Geez, you’re practically a nun.”

  We had walked until we reached Jolts, which was situated along the wall of tents lining the street. Letting go of my hand, Spencer leaned into my ear and whispered, “I’m going to use the restroom. Order whatever food you want, and when I’m done, I’ll wait for the pickup while you go.” He held out a twenty to me, which I tried to refuse but he insisted until he finally put it in my back pocket and walked away.