by Lisa Sanchez
My cell phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my tote to see Jessica’s face flashing across the screen. “What’s up? You know, my mouth feels fine. Your coffee didn’t burn it at all.” I giggled silently to myself. My sarcasm had me on a fast track straight to Hades.
“Where are you?” she asked. “We need to talk. I’m not so sure about our new roomie.”
Sick of tiny, cramped dorm rooms with no privacy, and completely uninterested in rushing sororities, Jessica and I had pooled our resources and opted to rent an apartment. Our place was roomy, private, and conveniently close to campus and my work, which saved on the golden fluid flowing into my tank. They should throw diamonds into that shit for what they charge!
Jessica’s mom, Karen, covered all of her expenses, insisting school should be her main focus until graduation.
A product of the foster care system after losing my parents at the early age of two, I had no one to cover my expenses and had learned early on how to take care of myself. I’d worked since I was fifteen and managed to put a decent chunk of money into a savings account over the years, and even earned enough to buy a car. “I’m sitting in the quad. What’s the matter?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there. I’ll see you in a minute or two.” She hung up before I could get another word out.
I sat lost in thought for a moment, wondering what she wanted to talk about, when an icy chill shot up my spine. My lungs went on strike, struggling to pull in air, and I felt an overwhelming sense that someone or some thing monumentally evil lurked just out of sight, waiting to pounce. Swallowing hard, I turned, half expecting to see some crazed mental ward escapee jumping out at me, but, as before, saw nothing out of the ordinary. I let out the breath I hadn’t known I was holding. What the hell was going on?
My phone buzzed again. I didn’t bother to look at the screen, assuming it was Jessica. “Hey. What did you forget?” I asked as I continued to scan the area. Something wasn’t right. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, leaving me with a sick, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t expecting the voice that carried over the phone.
“Hey, Ryann.” It was Stan, the new manager from the club. His high-pitched, nasally voice irritated every one of my senses and threatened to make my ears bleed. Despite his horribly annoying articulation, he was a friendly, albeit somewhat geeky, guy.
My paranoia eased up a bit, and I relaxed into the bench. “Oh,” I said, slightly surprised. “Hey, Stan. What’s up? Do you need me to come in tonight?” I couldn’t think of another reason for his call. I liked Stan. He was a decent boss who always treated me with respect. If he needed me to work more hours, I was all for it. College tuition didn’t come cheap.
He shouted through the tiny speaker on my cell. “Yeah, actually I do. There’s also a big shipment coming in this afternoon. Think you can come in early and help me with it?”
His request took me by surprise. Servers didn’t normally help with the shipments, but hey, hours were hours. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”
There was an awkward pause. Stan’s heavy breathing sounded through the line. If I hadn’t known who was on the other end, I might have been creeped out. With Stan, I was more worried he’d maybe dropped his inhaler. “Stan, you okay? You sound…out of breath.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. I’ll see you at five.” I heard the line click and go dead.
What was up with the heavy breathing? I clamped my eyes shut and shook my head. On second thought, I didn’t want to know.
“Who were you talking to?”
I jumped in my seat with a loud yelp. I looked up to see a smiling Jessica staring down at me with a curious look on her face.
I clutched my chest with my hand. “Wha—Oh, for…Crap. You scared me. That was Stan, the new manager from the club. He needs me to pick up an extra shift tonight.” I paused while she sat down next to me. I angled my body so I faced her. “About this morning. I’m sorry I woke you. You have my permission to kick my ass if I do it again.”
She flashed me a wry smile.
I tossed my phone into my bag and got down to business. “So, what’s wrong with the new girl?”
Jess and I had enough money to cover our apartment ourselves, but, being the smart, cash-conscious girls we were, opted to take on another roommate. Splitting the bills three ways instead of two was better all around.
Our new roommate, Martha, dropped off a bunch of boxes over the weekend, but had officially moved in this morning, while I was in class.
“I knew something was up with her when she told me her full name. I mean, seriously…Martha Stewart? Who names their kid after Ms. Hospital Corners?” Jessica’s eyes grew wide, and her expression held a mix of annoyance and fear. I wondered why she would be afraid of our crafty new roommate.
“She’s not that bad,” I said, trying to talk Jessica down. Truth was, our new roommate was more than a little odd, but out of the applicants we’d interviewed, she was the least offensive. “What did she do? Bake you a quiche and tell you it was a ‘good thing’?” I snickered at my own bad joke.
“No,” Jessica scoffed. “You saw her. She’s nothing like her television counterpart.” She shook her head and raised her eyebrows. “To be honest with you, I’m not sure what we got ourselves into. She scares me. Have you seen her goth clothing? Who dresses like that nowadays, anyway? And that scary, emo haircut and black lipstick?” She made a face. “Honestly, I’m afraid to sleep with her in the apartment. She might perform some kind of weird ritual on us or something.”
I choked back a laugh. “You’ve been watching too much TV. No more Buffy marathons for you. You never know, she could end up being really cool. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
Jessica slumped back against the bench, folding her arms across her chest. “Geez…You sound like my mother.”
“Besides,” I said, “she signed a contract. The room is hers for the rest of the school year.”
“Humph,” she grumbled and looked away for a moment. “Hey, what time is it?”
I looked down at my watch and felt my stomach lurch. “Oh crap. Class starts in five minutes. We need to book it.”
My heart jumped in my chest as we approached the entrance to our English Lit class. Standing near the entrance to the lecture hall was none other than the Sex God. A leggy brunette stood plastered to his side, whispering something in his ear and giggling. Much like the night before, he looked completely uninterested in the female’s attention.
His head snapped around and those gorgeous blue eyes of his burned a hole right through me. Recognition flashed across his beautiful face, and he treated me to a flirtatious smile and a slight nod of the head.
I swear it was like I blew a head gasket the moment I laid eyes on him. My breath hitched and my heart stopped. I hated my body’s automatic reaction, but I couldn’t see how that could be helped. Dressed casually in a pair of worn jeans and a white t-shirt that hugged his muscular physique, he was the very picture of perfection.
He called out to me from where he stood. “See something you like, love?”
“Jackass,” I muttered under my breath. Turning my embarrassment at being caught ogling him into hostility, I threw him a few angry eye darts as I passed by. Just as I crossed the threshold into the classroom, he spoke again.
“Oh, and to answer your question: my name is Quinn. Quinn Donegan.” He pegged me with another devilish grin.
“I never asked you what your name was.” I stared at him, one eyebrow raised. I hadn’t said a word to him.
“Aye, lass, you did.” He raked his eyes over me from head to foot, then strode into the classroom before me, pulling Lusty Long Legs behind him.
I stood still for a moment, trying to process what happened. When, if ever, did I inquire about his name? I hadn’t. Pretty boy had lost his ever loving…
I froze. Awareness crashed over me, sending a tingling shiver up my spine. I had asked his name last night, as I walked home from work. But I
’d been alone, hadn’t I? How could he possibly know? “Quinn,” I whispered under my breath. Just the mention of his name sent blood racing through my veins.
I traipsed into the large classroom, followed by Jessica, who looked as though she might burst out of her skin with curiosity over my brief conversation with Quinn. We took our seats near the front of the class, where she bombarded me with questions.
“Who was that, Ryann?” Jessica probed. “He’s hot. Spill.”
“Calm down.” I hushed her. “He’s nobody…just some random jerk-off that came into the club last night.”
“Jerk or no jerk, he’s one fine specimen. Did you see the tatt on his arm? Sexy.” She gave me a playful swat on the back and turned around to look for him.
I tugged at her arm. “Stop. Don’t look at him.” I didn’t want him to know we were talking about him.
“Why not? He’s staring at you, Ryann, and good Lord…he’s beautiful.”
I turned in my seat to see Quinn seated a few rows up and to the left. Jess was right. He was beautiful. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was about him that made him different. But different he surely was. From his smooth, sun-kissed skin to the lethal gait he carried himself with, Quinn was unearthly attractive and altogether mysterious.
He stared at me with a wide grin on his face. Legs, who sat next to him, desperately tried to gain his attention and came up short. Quinn’s attention was focused solely on me.
I turned back around just as the professor began the lecture.
The following ninety minutes were pure torture. Concentrating on the lesson was impossible with Quinn’s eyes boring into the back of my head. I heard nothing but the pounding of my own heartbeat, and sat flushed and agitated in my seat, unable to do anything about it. I wanted to get the hell out of the building.
Despite my disgust for the garbage that came out of his mouth, I couldn’t ignore the physical pull I felt toward him. It was strong, possibly the strongest attraction I’d ever experienced. I was appalled. How could I possibly lust after someone who had such little respect for women? Both times I saw him, he had a different girl draped across him and seemed indifferent to them both. What was that all about?
Lost in thought, I didn’t notice class had been dismissed.
“Ryann. Hello? Earth to Ryann.” Jessica waved her hands in front of my face. “Class is over. Did you hear anything the professor said?” There was a hint of worry in her voice.
“Um…No?” I felt a little loopy and searched her face with a pleading look. “A little help? Please?”
“No worries. Everything you need to know for the first assignment is right here,” she explained while handing me the class syllabus.
I gave it a once-over and groaned. “We have to write a paper on a historical legend?”
“Yep, and it’s due next week,” Jessica added. “Want to hit the library this afternoon?”
I shook my head. “Can’t. I have to work tonight, remember? I need to get a nap in or I’ll never make it through my shift. I’ll have to go tomorrow before work.” I held up the sheet and gave her a nod of appreciation. “Thanks for filling me in. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually so out of it,” I lied. I knew exactly what was wrong with me, or rather who. Quinn had my panties all tied up in knots, and I didn’t like it one bit.
Jess and I parted ways. She had one more class to get to, and I seriously needed to sleep. I felt like a walking zombie and probably looked much the same. Lack of sleep made for tired, baggy eyes, and the last thing I wanted was to look like I could carry around extra luggage beneath my peepers. I made it home in record time. Man, I was thankful we lived so close to campus.
Famished from not eating anything but a banana earlier, I raided my refrigerator, throwing together a sandwich in record time. I scarfed it down in three large bites, glad no one was around to watch me make a pig of myself. After downing a glass of water, I ambled down the narrow hallway that led to my room, threw open the door, and literally fell into bed. I eyed the alarm clock on my nightstand with contempt before rolling over and succumbing to sleep.
Vaguely aware I was dreaming, I watched myself jog through the courtyard and across the busy street toward campus. My pace was impressive, and I smiled to myself as I completed the first lap in record time, continuing on for a second circuit.
Approaching the halfway marker, I noticed a dark figure lurking among the trees. Whoever it was went unnoticed by Dream-Ryann as she jogged. I swooped down from above and closed in on the ominous figure to get a closer look. Terror covered me like an icy blanket, freezing me in place.
The mysterious lurker was a man dressed in all black, complete with a trench coat that billowed in the early morning breeze. Except, there was no breeze. The air surrounding us felt unusually still. His coal black hair fell to his shoulders, and his skin was unnaturally pale, almost translucent in the early morning light. Black, spidery veins crept across his face and neck, but it was his eyes that frightened me the most. A pair of sinister black holes stared at me. Two gaping orifices ready to suck the very soul from my body.
Dread wormed its way through my gut, filling every cell, every inch of me. Looking toward my dream self, I saw the fear in my eyes as I scanned the area looking for the source of my unease. How could I have missed such a sinister, creepy-looking character? I turned to face my fugly stalker and fought to pull air into my lungs. He trailed several yards behind me as I jogged toward my apartment. With terror filled eyes, I watched as he raised a long bony finger toward me and uttered a single word. “Mine.”
I screamed and thrashed awake. Panting and out of breath, I looked at my clock. It read four thirty. I still had fifteen minutes to rest.
The hell if I’m closing my eyes after that dream!
I sat up, doing my best to shake off the fear and adrenaline pumping through me. Desperate to rid my thoughts of the creepy nightmare, I changed into my shiteous, booty-flashing uniform, grabbed my purse and left for work.
***
Still anxious from my earlier dream, I crossed through the empty club and made my way into the staff room, tossing my purse into my locker and straightening my hair in the mirror. It felt odd showing up at the club so early. It wasn’t customary for servers to come in to help with the alcohol shipments. That job was primarily left for the bartenders or Stan, and I wondered briefly who I was covering for.
Thankful for the hours, regardless of the reason, I made my way out of the locker room and over toward the back entrance where the shipments were brought in. I pursed my lips as I eyed a whole lot of empty space. There were no boxes, no load of goods, and not a soul around. The place was eerily silent.
What is going on?
“Hey there, Ryann.”
I let out a breathy yelp and spun around to see Gabriel, the bartender, choking back a laugh, his golden eyes bright with surprise.
People needed to stop sneaking up on me. “Crap. You scared me,” I managed to say while clutching my hands over my heart.
His caramel eyes were full of suspicion. “What are you doing here so early?” His Latin accent was buttery smooth and altogether lovely. “Your shift doesn’t start until ten, and, come to think of it, isn’t today your day off?”
“Yeah,” I said, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. “Stan called earlier and said he needed me to cover a shift tonight. He said he needed help with a shipment this afternoon.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyebrows. “Huh.” He shrugged. “Well, he’s in charge of the scheduling, so if he says we need an extra body tonight, then I’m sure we do. But I have no idea why he asked you to come in and help with a shipment. We’re not expecting anything until tomorrow. He’s new. Dumbshit must have got the days mixed up,” he said with a chuckle. “You might as well stay since you’re here and see if Stan will let you help us take inventory.”
I nodded and made my way to the storage room where Stan was already at work, counting cases of beer and liquor.
I shuffled forward, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. “So…there was no shipment today.” I felt like an idiot for pointing out the obvious and hoped he wouldn’t send me home. I needed a diversion after that creepy dream.
Stan looked up from his clipboard and pushed his glasses higher up onto the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, sorry about that.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “Guess I got the days mixed up. But hey,” he thrust his clipboard in my direction, “you’re here. You might as well pick up some extra hours. Maybe when we finish with the inventory, I can show you how to mix some drinks?”
“I’m cool with that,” I said, doing my best to make the most of the bizarre situation.
He smiled, raking his fingers through his short, spiky hair, and tucked the hem of his polo shirt back into his saggy jeans. Stan was the quintessential wannabe. Impossibly tall and thin, he wore Coke-bottle glasses and tried way too hard to fit in with the rest of the staff. Though annoying at times, Stan was harmless and one of the only men in the bar who looked me in the eye instead of straight at my chest.
With the two of us working together, we finished the inventory quickly. This allowed time for a fast meal, and gave Stan plenty of time to school me in the fine art of mixology before my shift started.
Serious about his work, almost to the point of being anal, Stan threw out names of various drinks at rapid fire pace, eyeing me with eager anticipation until I shouted their various ingredients.
“Masturbating Butterfly,” he squeaked, his cheeks turning a bright pink as soon as the vulgar name escaped his mouth.
I knew this one. “Midori, Absolut Vodka, sour mix…» I paused, holding my hand up, warning him not to help me as the last two ingredients were on the tip of my tongue. “I know. Sprite and Jaeger!”
Stan looked at me like a proud father whose child just brought home a report card full of A’s. “Very good, Ryann. I have a feeling you have a bright future in bartending. The club is about to open, so let’s get to work.”
