by SM Soto
“Excuse me,” I say irritably. She doesn’t look at me, just shoulders past me, falling into Luke’s open arms.
Man-whoring up close and personal. How great is that?
I roll my eyes and walk to my car in an irritable mood. I hate going to work when I’m upset because I don’t like taking my problems out on my customers, but damn, Luke has a way of getting under my skin.
Thankfully, by the time I clock in for my shift, my fury has subsided. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate Luke, but at least now, I’m not walking around like a ball of anger, ready to explode. The Bar and Grille is just as wild and lively as it always is. On the outside, it looks like your average beach shack, but on the inside, it’s incredible. There’s a wall of floor to ceiling windows with an amazing view of the beach, a fully stocked bar, dark mahogany wood with dim lighting, in-house bands playing music and beach fixtures strategically placed throughout the restaurant. CJ, the owner, worked really hard on renovating the inside. His father, who was the original owner of the Bar and Grille before he passed away, wanted the Bar and Grille to be a place that made people feel comfortable, and I think CJ mastered that with his renovations. The place is buzzing with the loud clatter of plates and shouts from my fellow co-workers as they hustle back and forth.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips when I see Sam sitting next to our friend, Aliza, the new girl. Aliza’s long, golden blonde hair flows behind her back, and her arctic blue eyes look brighter today than they did yesterday. The first day I met her, I knew she needed a friend, so I made it my mission to include her in everything Sam and I did. Her first few days of working here were quiet and kind of awkward, but now, Sam and I are both starting to see bits and pieces of her personality. It brings a smile to my face. It feels like she’s part of our duo now—I never thought I’d meet another person I’d consider my best friend other than Sam, but Aliza has changed that. No one should ever look as sad and alone as she does. There was only one person I knew before her who had that same look—Samantha.
“Hey guys.” I slide into the seat next to Aliza. Both of my friends smile at me.
“Well, shit, look who it is,” Sam says, and I groan.
“Please don’t say shit, poop, or crap for the rest of the day. I don’t ever want to think of those bodily fluids ever again.”
They both furrow their brows, and of course Samantha is the first one to say something.
“Why would I ever say poop, or crap Natalia? I mean seriously, do you even know me at all?” She feigns hurt, placing a hand over her wounded heart. I crack a smile and roll my eyes.
“Forgive me Sam, if hearing those words remind me of the most embarrassing day of my life to date.” I drop my head into my hands, reliving my mortification in class earlier.
How am I going to show my face again?
“What happened?” Aliza asks from beside me. I proceed to tell both her and Sam about Luke and what he said. They both erupt with laughter at my expense.
“Oh God, that is priceless. I can’t believe he actually did that!” Sam cackles loudly, gaining the attention of other tables. “I really need to meet this guy now. He’s A-Okay in my book if you ask me.”
I narrow my eyes at her threateningly. “You will never meet him because I’m staying far away from him from here on out. We’ve only known each other for a week, and I seriously already want to stab him in the eye.”
“That’s pretty devious and evil. Maybe you should stay away from him then, diarrhea girl,” Sam jokes playfully as she and Aliza start laughing all over again at my expense. With a roll of my eyes, I get up from the table to start my shift.
“Hardy, har, har. You’re so funny,” I throw over my shoulder in passing.
***
My nerves are ridiculously jumbled as I walk to psyche class. I’ve had one whole day to prepare for the embarrassing walk of shame that comes with entering this class, and I’m still not entirely ready. Damn Luke Caldwell and his stupid humor.
I hate him. I mean really, really hate him.
I get to class early, as usual, sliding into a seat in the back of the class. Far, far away from the professor, and hopefully most of the students. Maybe I’ll blend into the corner—hopefully no one will even know I’m here. Pulling out my notebook and pen, I wait patiently for the class to fill up. The faster it gets started, the faster I’m out of here. I scroll through my Instagram feed on my phone to pass the time. The lecture hall fills with chatter that grows louder by the second, the class finally starting to fill up with students.
Leaning back in my chair, I continue stalking Kim Kardashian’s Instagram page. I’m not proud of it, but I can’t help it. She’s just so aesthetically pleasing to look at. Perfect face, perfect hair, perfect body; it’s a little unfair. She’s annoying yes, but you can’t deny the woman is freaking beautiful.
“You remind me of her.”
Luke’s voice jolts me out of my celeb stalking. I shift in my seat to face him, furrowing my brows.
“Of who?”
“Kim Kardashian.” He lifts his chin pointedly at my phone. I open my mouth to say something, then wisely shut it, thinking better of it. This is no doubt a joke or a trap. There’s probably an insult in that answer somewhere.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is that another insult?” I cross my arms over my chest defensively and raise a brow expectantly. Luke chuckles, revealing his perfect smile and perfect teeth—infuriating me to no end.
“Calm down, tiger, it was a compliment.”
I narrow my eyes in scrutiny and grumble. “Somehow, I find that very hard to believe.”
“What’s so hard to believe? You guys have similar features, the tan skin, dark hair—except for her ass. That shit is just out of control. Thigh to ass ratio doesn’t lie, baby, and hers? Well, there’s something fishy going on.”
I do my best to stifle my laugh because that whole family has taken ass proportions to another level. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling because we all know it’s not real. It’s impossible.
“Well, thanks. I guess,” I say wearily, unable to meet his gaze.
We both stop talking once the class starts. I take notes like the good student that I am while Luke sits there with his phone in hand and nothing else on his desk. I shake my head and roll my eyes. Good luck passing this class, buddy.
Typical jock.
“By the end of class, everyone will need to choose a partner who you will work with for the remainder of the semester. You both will conduct a study on the behavior and psyche of one another. Per the syllabus, this is due the week before finals begin. I suggest you all get started soon.”
I deflate in my seat. Partners, seriously? What are we, in third grade?
I’ve always hated working with a partner for schoolwork. Somehow, I always get stuck with someone who doesn’t care about their grade or the quality of their work, so I’m the one left doing everything. I prefer working alone—it’s faster and error free.
“Alright, when are we meeting up to start this?” Luke asks, and I whip around to face him.
“Excuse me?” I scoff. “What makes you think I’m going to be your partner?” Incredibility laces my voice. Luke tosses his head back and laughs.
“Believe me, the feeling is mutual, but what other choice do you have sweets?”
My jaw clenches in irritation. “I have choices, asshole,” I retort, gaining another chuckle from him.
“Right. Of course you do,” he says sarcastically with a head nod. I avert my gaze, shifting my attention to the rest of my classmates. The majority of the students have already found their partners. I huff out a breath in irritation.
Damn him.
Turning back toward him, internally fighting the urge to wipe the smug look off his face, I physically restrain myself from stabbing him in the eye with my pen.
“You did this on purpose,” I accuse through narrowed slits. He chuckles wholeheartedly.
“You give me way too much credit, s
weets. I actually like it.” He winks at me and I know in that moment, without a doubt, this is a test from God. He’s testing me, making sure I won’t murder someone out of anger. It all makes sense now.
“Fine. We can be partners,” I concede in defeat. He smiles victoriously, and God help me if I don’t like the way his dimples deepen.
After class, Luke and I exchange numbers to set up a time and place that best suits the both of us to start the project. Not even five minutes go by in my next class, and I already have a new message from him. I swipe across the screen with a small shake of my head.
Luke Caldwell 10:30 a.m.: Look, now that you have my number I don’t want you booty calling me in the middle of the night, Natalia.
I scoff at his message, quickly typing out a reply.
Natalia 10:31 a.m.: In your dreams.
The text bubble pops up on the screen indicating he’s typing.
Luke Caldwell 10:33 a.m.: No seriously, if you ever need anything don’t be afraid to ask.
My brows pinch together as I read over his message. I’m still having a hard time believing he’s truly said something nice for once. Just as I’m about to respond with a sincere thank you, he ruins it.
Luke Caldwell 10:34 a.m.: Like Pepto-Bismol
Luke Caldwell 10:34 a.m.: Maybe even those anti-diarrheal pills
He adds a whole message filled with the poop emoticons and a scowl forms on my face. I knew it was too good to be true.
Asshole.
Natalia 10:36 a.m.: You’re depraved.
Luke Caldwell 10:37 a.m.: Yeah, I know. Side effect of mommy and daddy issues I guess.
With my fingers hovering over the screen, I stop to think hard about his message. Does he have serious problems with his parents? Maybe that’s why he acts the way he does. It would certainly make a lot more sense. Typically, people who act out never received much attention as kids. Take Samantha for example. My mind formulates its own scenarios of what his home life could’ve been like growing up.
I wonder if his parents were abusive? Or maybe his situation was similar to mine—not enough affection.
Natalia 10:40 a.m.: I’m sorry.
Luke Caldwell 10:41 a.m.: Don’t be, I was kidding.
He adds the laughing emoticon, and I grind my teeth together in irritation. I shove my phone in my bag, ignoring its vibrating the remainder of the class.
That’s pretty much how the next few weeks go. Luke sends me text messages throughout the day, every day, until I beg him to stop. Some are funny, like laugh out loud funny, others are inappropriate, and some are just down right gross. Most of his messages are trivial things, like what he is doing, or when he is really bored, he’ll call me on FaceTime to irritate me some more. For the most part, our relationship hasn’t changed. I still can’t stand him almost as much as he can’t stand me. His bevy of busty college girls still follow him everywhere like he’s some prophet of God. And my focus is still on school.
CHAPTER FIVE
Natalia
I hurry into work two minutes late, juggling my school bag and my purse. I don’t bother waving hello to any of my co-workers, too busy trying to stow my items away so I can get to work. Turning the corner of the hall, I slam into a hard body that knocks the breath right out of me in an oomph. Strong hands dart out and steady me, helping me gain back my equilibrium.
“Shit, sorry—” My sentence trails off when I lock eyes with CJ. Shit. The one day I’m late and this is who I run into? Seriously?
“Natalia,” he says with a small smirk. Not too long ago, the smirk on CJ’s face would’ve made me feel giddy because he’s a total babe, but over my time working here, I’d like to say I’ve become somewhat immune to his charm. I can’t say the same for my friend Aliza. Whenever she hears his name or sees him, her face turns a deep shade of crimson—it’s hard to miss. I don’t think she realizes how much she lets her emotions show.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I promise it won’t happen again CJ. I just got out of class, and there was so much traffic getting off campus, then there was an accident on the freeway—”
“Whoa, whoa. Calm down Natalia. I haven’t even said anything. It’s fine,” he says with a chuckle. “Now, if you were Sam, this would be a completely different conversation.”
I can’t help but laugh because he’s right, my best friend is late to everything, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was late to her own funeral. I know CJ only tolerates her because they’ve known each other for so long, and because she had a fling with his best friend Alex, but I think even he has his moments where he’s fed up with Sam. And I don’t blame him.
Just as I’m about to agree with him on the topic of Sam, Aliza turns the corner and freezes when she sees who I’m talking to. Her eyes land on mine for a fleeting second, then they dart everywhere, like she’s making it her life’s mission not to look at CJ. She shifts from foot to foot, her face turning the deep shade of crimson again. I open my mouth to say something, trying to quell the awkwardness in the hall, but before I do, she spins on her heel skittishly. My brows furrow and I turn back to CJ with a questioning look. He’s staring after her with a look on his face I can’t decipher.
“Okaaay,” I draw out. “Well, I’m heading to work now. Later, CJ.”
His throaty “Alright” is the last thing I hear before I submerge myself in work.
Three hours into my shift, I’m seated at a booth with Aliza and Sam on a lunch break. I’ve been tuning in and out of their conversation for most of my lunch. My mind has been elsewhere. Focused on things that shouldn’t matter—like Luke Caldwell. I hate that I’m thinking about him at all, but I can’t help it. The little shit has seriously gotten under my skin.
“Hello? Earth to Natalia!” Sam snaps her fingers impatiently in my face, jolting me out of my daydream.
“What? Sorry, I was thinking about something,” I say, still a little sidetracked.
“Yeah, I’ve fucking noticed. You’ve been like this for the last few weeks. What the hell is going on?” Sam demands. “Ohio, back me up on this one.”
Aliza darts her eyes from me to Sam warily. “I guess you’ve been a little off.” She shrugs. “I honestly haven’t paid enough attention.”
Sam groans, turning back to me with an expectant look on her face. “Are you gonna sit there with that dumb look on your face or are you gonna start explaining?”
“Seriously Sam, there’s nothing going on. I didn’t realize daydreaming was a crime,” I grumble.
“It damn well should be.”
I narrow my eyes at her in warning. “I have tables to get to, Ms. Officer.” I push up from the table, grabbing my pad and pen.
“I’m onto you,” Sam yells after my retreating form. I flip her the bird as an indication that I heard her loud and clear.
***
I trek across campus to my psyche class. Last night, I was up until two o’clock in the morning with Luke on FaceTime. We were studying for the quiz today. I was surprised and quite impressed by how smart Luke actually is. When he said he didn’t need to take notes because he had a good memory, he wasn’t lying. He knew every single answer like he was reciting the alphabet. It was completely unfair that he knew all the answers, but also extremely helpful because without him, I would no doubt be failing this quiz today. It’s not even like it’s a hard class, it’s just with all my other classes, my workload is suffocating me. I feel like I’m drowning in schoolwork.
I slide into the empty seat next to Luke, completely surprised to see him here early. That’s a first. There are two Starbucks cups on his desk, and my mouth waters instantly. He chuckles at my expression, pushing one of the cups toward me.
“Don’t worry, it’s yours.”
I lift my brows in surprise.
“Really? What is it?”
“It’s a caramel mocha-something. The hell if I know.” He shrugs like he really doesn’t have a clue.
“How did you order it if you don’t even know what it is?” I question in
confusion as he downs the remaining contents in his cup.
“I was at Starbucks this morning with a lady friend, she ordered it, so I thought you’d probably like it too.”
I scoff. “Lady friend?”
He chuckles, quickly correcting himself. “Okay, okay, you got me. It was some chick I had just met.”
“Wait, so let me get this straight, you were on a coffee date with a girl and buying coffee for another girl?” He purses his lips in deep thought, mulling over what I said.
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You are something else entirely, you know that, right?”
“Don’t I?” he says with a wink and I laugh. I tilt the cup toward my lips and pause as I see Luke staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
“What did you put in my drink?” I suddenly ask, placing the cup back on the desk. “Laxatives? Milk of magnesia? Tell me. I know you did something.”
He cocks his head to the side and looks at me for a beat before laughing with a subtle shake of his head. “I promise you, I did nothing to your drink. Although, the milk of magnesia thing is a great fucking idea for the future, thanks for that.”
I narrow my eyes at him, then drop them toward the full Starbucks cup. I eye them both warily. My mouth salivates as I stare at the stark white lid and the green nautical logo.
Oh, screw it. I snatch the cup up and take a huge gulp of the caramel flavored coffee. Mmm, so good. I wait for any gurgling in my stomach, but thankfully nothing happens. Assuming the coffee is safe to drink, I finish it off and wait for class to start.
After everyone finishes the quiz, the professor ends class early, and I can’t be happier. An actual break. All the students leave the lecture hall in a loud rush of excitement, feeling the same way about getting out early. I hang back with Luke, waiting for the chaos to deplete.
