by Ines Vieira
Well, what the hell?
Next to me is a wide-eyed, clean shaven, jaw-dropping Quaid with a smile as bright as the fluorescent lights above us. I’ms still trying to choke down the remaining burrito when Quaid goes full-on cavalier on me.
“Hi, we haven’t officially met. I’m Quaid, Jess’s friend from back home.” I am still in shock as I see him shake hands with Drew and Izzy.
“Oh, we know who you are. Jess has told us all about you,” Drew says. The glare I send one of my best friends is razor blade sharp, and all he can muster is a smirky smile. Little shit.
“I’m sorry, are you lost or something?” I ask Quaid, still surprised that he's sitting at our table.
“No, just wanted to say hi, that’s all.”
“Okay, so mission completed. You can go on your way now?” I say swaying my hand to the side hoping he takes the hint. “Off you go, then.” But Quaid just leans into the table, with both arms across, making himself comfortable.
“Anything new? You gonna eat that?” he asks looking at Izzy’s discarded apple and taking a bite once she giggles its okay. Seriously? I gotta put that girl on a leash.
“Our girl here has just finished her first week on a new job, Drew says, and I know what he’s gonna do before he even says it. My eyes are wide staring at the traitor as he passes his phone onto Quaid. My friends are assholes. That photo was for friends and family only, not for the eyes of Quaid freaking Stevens.
Note to self: Get new friends.
“Really where at?” Quaid asks before he’s had time to see my infamous pic.
“DiStefano Hotel.” Izzy chimes in. I see Quaid’s back stiffen up, but then when he sees my picture, his whole face lights up. I’m expecting laughter, ridicule, even some teasing on his part, but I get none of it. What I do get, makes me tingle all over.
“You look cute, Jess. Adorable even,” he whispers next to me. My body is an even more traitorous bitch than my friends because she melts with his softly spoken words. I snatch Drew’s phone out of Quaid’s hands and give it back to a snickering Drew.
“Thanks,” I mumble. Quaid’s eyes are still attentively on me, and I try to ignore making eye contact by taking a sip of my cola.
“So does this mean you’re no longer tutoring?” My neck snaps in his direction in response.
“How the hell did you know that I tutored?”
“Asked around. So is that a no?” He asked around? Have I entered the Matrix or something? Did I take the red pill and all reality is now all loopy? 'Cause this shit is making no sense whatsoever.
“Just got a few kids still until they can find a replacement.”
“Oh,” he says, and there is a definite tone of disappointment in it. Our table is silent, and my two friends are still looking at Quaid, and I like we’re Kanye West and Kim Kardashian. There for their entertainment alone.
“So that must have freed up your time a bit. Still working on your charity websites?” Okay, now this is just creepy. How the hell did he know about those?
“Never pegged you for a stalker, Quaid. You need to get out more if your sense of fulfillment is getting info on me. I’m not that interesting,” I say trying to defuse a bomb that I know will blow up in T minus 10 seconds. The bomb in this scenario is my wavering cool exterior that I’m trying really hard to maintain right now. Quaid leans back in his chair and places his arm over the back of my chair. His fingers are centimeters away from my hair. It’s distracting as hell, and as he leans into me, our faces are a breath away from each other. My heart does a little somersault in my chest, and I feel goose bumps spread all over my body. Even my toes aren’t immune to the earthy smell of wood and clean cut grass. His smell alone creates havoc on me, but his steel blue stare engulfs my senses.
“I’m not a stalker, but you Jessica, are far from being uninteresting. It seems you have a knack for surprising me at every turn, and I’m just curious as to what else you can surprise me with,” he says in a husky torn tone. My own breath hitches and I try to gain equilibrium by answering his original question.
“I’m still struggling juggling all of them. Who knew college would be so demanding right?” I say hoping this will lighten the air around us.
“What she means by that is she’s usually on three hours sleep just to keep up with school and saving the planet along with its inhabitants,” Izzy butts in. Quaid pulls away from me, and it seems like he’s also composing himself.
“Have you thought about delegating some of your work? I wouldn’t mind getting involved with whatever you’ve got cooking right now. Over the break, Cass also said that she isn’t attached to any project yet, so I’m sure that she’d love to help lighten your workload.” And that is just the ice water bucket I needed to cool me off. The reminder that Quaid’s being all up in Cass’s business is all I need to put my indifference mask back on successfully.
“Might be a good idea. I’ll talk to her.” I say coldly.
“I said that I would love to help out too, you know?” Quaid gives me a coy smile that a minute ago would work like a charm. Immunity is a wonderful thing.
“Sure, I’ll think about it.” I get up from the table and start gathering my things. “Sorry guys, but I’m going to have to cut this delightful tête à tête short. Got a bucketload of studying to do. Meet you guys back in the dorm later, okay?”
I don’t even wait to hear my friends replies or Quaid’s for that matter. I just waltz on out of there. I got plenty of carp on my plate as it is, so Quaid Stevens is not going to be an added distraction. I don’t know what he thinks he’s up to, but his sudden snooping in what I have going on in my life is unsettling. Also how the hell did he find out all that stuff about me? The only person I can think of would be my father. Can’t actually call him and tell him to keep his trap shut to Quaid about me. Knowing dad, it would only incite him into giving Quaid even more dirt on me. Hell, probably even send him my baby pictures! Damn it all to hell! Okay, Jess stay cool. So the guy learns some stuff about you. So what? It's not like you’ll see him anytime soon. Columbia’s campus is huge. Hell, since I’ve been here, this is the first time I’ve even seen Quaid. So take a chill pill and relax. If he didn’t irritate me so much, he wouldn’t even be on my radar. My focus on school and work is solid, so no roguish grin will take me off my game. By the time I reach the library, I feel more like myself and ready to hit the books. Quaid Stevens doesn’t even count as an afterthought.
I look out the window and see that it’s already dark outside. I don’t even look at my watch to see the time since my stomach refuses to shut up. It’s way past dinner time. There are some kids still doing their thing in their own little corners of the library, so I guess I’ve still got a couple of hours until closing time. I’m rummaging through my bag, trying to see if I can find a power bar when the chair in front of me squeaks announcing an intruder. When I look up, Superman’s doppelganger is looking down at me.
“Por amor de dues!” I say exasperated. “I thought you said you weren’t a stalker, Quaid. Right now, I’m doubting your honesty.” I take a bite out of the granola goodness and keep on taking notes out of my Political Science textbook, ignoring my unexpected visitor.
“It's not stalking. It's a coincidence. I mean you do get that this is the school library, meaning college students tend to come here to either study or check out a book they need for class, right?”
Still not raising my eyes from the textbook, I raise my granola in his direction and say, ‘Touche.’ I hear him slip the chair out further and taking a seat in front of me. “However, I didn’t ask you to take a seat, which would suggest that I want company. As you can see I’m busy, and if you came to check out a book, it's that way.” I point to the rows and rows of stocked shelves.
“I have to admit that before those little comments got on my nerves, but now they’re starting to grow on me,” he teases.
“Well, my mission in life is complete then. Glad to be of service,” I reply sarcastically. I hear anothe
r small laugh and I adjust my shoulders and back. Quaid has the nicest laugh. All warm and gooey, yet deep as if it's just a small taste of water from a bottomless well. I shake it off and do my best not to engage in any more conversation.
“Have you given any thought to what we discussed earlier at lunch?” He asks stretching his arms on the table purposely placing his hands on the page I was reading. I raise my head and look him dead in the eyes.
“I’ve been busy. I still am if you haven’t figured it out,” I say emphasizing that he’s getting in my way.
“Have you had a break yet? That bar isn’t what I would call nutritious enough to keep you going. I was heading out to grab something to eat. You can tag along if you’d like?”
“As tempting as it is to see you wolf down a burger or something, I pass,” my annoyed tone loud and clear, but Quaid can’t seem to take the hint. No, he gets it, he just doesn’t care, which pisses me off even more. He lets out another laugh, and it is slowly killing my resistance.
“What do you want, Quaid? I mean what brought this on now?” I ask defeated. He’s taken aback, and his smile slowly turns into a frown.
“I just want us to be friends, Jess. That’s all.” He says seriously, but there is a definite underlying reason that he’s not sharing.
“It's going to take more than a couple of drivebys for you to gain my friendship. Interrupting me while I’m knee deep in stuff to finish for my classes tomorrow, isn’t working for your benefit either.” I want to say more, but then I feel a soft touch on my arm. I look at the culprit finger that is lightly stroking my forearm. My lower lip quivers with that one touch and my eyes can't seem to move away from this term of endearment. I inhale as much air as I can with long sputtering draws, all the while certain that I’m not getting enough oxygen to survive this exquisite assault. Yep, I feel my brain cells being pronounced dead on the spot with the lack of O2. My chest is constricted, my mouth can’t seem to function, and my eyes must be as wide as saucers. Someone must drop a book on the floor, and it's loud enough that it brings us both back to reality and Quaid removes his hand swiftly from me. I look up at him, and I see that he’s as conflicted as I am. We don’t say anything to each other as he stands up from his seat. He gives me a coy look and starts to leave.
“I’ll be seeing around, Jessica.” It's not a threat, but a promise and it heats my cheeks in such a way that I lower my face into my textbook, praying Quaid missed the effect he had on me with these little words. I hear him leave and drop my arms over my head on the table.
Crap-fucking-tastic! I’m fifteen again getting hot and bothered by Quaid freaking Stevens!
I blame my hormones! That’s the only logical explanation. Not that I’m attracted to Quaid. Nope! Not that. I haven’t kissed a boy in over six months; my hormones are out of whack. That’s all. I’m not even gonna think about the last time and only time I ever had sex. What a disaster that was.
That’s it, Jess. That’s all it is.
A good hot smoldering kiss will make my obvious reaction to Quaid a thing of the past. One kiss and I’m golden. I bet even Drew would do it. He’s kissed girls before. Then again it would be like kissing my brother, so maybe that’s a no. What am I thinking? This campus is full of horny guys that would love for a no strings attached hook up. All I have to do is make it happen. In other words, a well-deserved study break was on the horizon, and some lucky guy was gonna solve my current predicament.
By this time next week, I’ll be like Quaid who?
Chapter 11
Jess
“You wanted a party; I got you a party!” Drew laughed, on the other line of the phone.
“Come again?” I asked cross-legged on my bed with my laptop placed strategically in a way that it wouldn’t topple over and my textbooks beside me opened to the precise pages I needed them on. I was still mindlessly writing a report for my Statistics class when Drew yelled loud enough to even grab Izzy’s attention.
“Jessica, did you or did you not say that you wanted to do something fun tonight? What is more fun than a frat party?” I rolled my eyes thinking of how many things were wrong with that question.
“A frat party? Really Drew? Do you not know me at all? When I said that we should go out, I was thinking out-out! You know? Like out roaming the streets of New York, not being stuffed into a house with a bunch of jocks and sorority clichés.”
“Oh, my little grasshopper, you first need to learn how to walk before you’re ready to sprint out into the big apple. And besides, I know how much you enjoy feeling all superior amongst us mere mortals, so what better opportunity than attending a frat party to show off that amazing set of skills.”
“Drew, that isn’t fair. I don’t get a kick of acting superior to anyone.” Him thinking that I did stung a little. Is that what people took away from meeting me? That I acted that I was better than them? I didn’t like to think that this was true and having a friend that I considered to be a close confidant, made me even more uncomfortable.
“No offense, Jess, but you do tend to be short with people that you don’t have an affinity with,” Izzy steps in, and it feels like another kick in the shins their unanimous opinion of me. I guess both of my friends thought I was a stuck-up bitch after all. Suddenly determined to change the way they saw me, and most importantly proving them wrong, I agree to attend this stupid frat party. Drew texts me the location and tells us he’ll meet us there in an hour. That’s just enough time for us to get freshened up and get dressed.
Yes, I did want a distraction, especially since I’ve been distracted ever since Christmas break and desperately wanted to replace it with something or someone different than the person that slipped into my mind from time to time. Maybe Drew was right. Maybe a frat party would be the answer to my prayers, even though having some big drunk gorilla who probably never read a book in his life, feel me up was not what I had in mind, it could still do the trick. At least for a couple of hours. I mean meaningful conversation was overrated on a Friday night when all we really wanted to do was have fun, dance and exchange a few secret kisses with a guy that you wouldn’t remember the following day anyway. I could go for that. But even as I try to tell myself that any cute faced boy will do, only one sticks out in my mind.
The frat house is just a ten-minute walk from our dorm, and even though it’s cold as hell, both Izzy and I are just too excited to care. Izzy is excited because this will be her very first frat party and she can’t help go on and on about what she expects to find. Like if it's going to be similar to movies she’s watched back in England, especially the one she saw with Zac Efron.
“Izzy, I can almost guarantee that it will probably be like that minus Zac. Don’t think that there will be one of those lying around at Delta Kappa Epsilon, but maybe you might be in luck with a Seth Rogen lookalike,” I laugh. She stops mid-step and holds my arms together in place.
“I’ll take it! Oh my god, I would take Seth Rogen in a heartbeat! Zac has that amazing chest and glutes, but Seth would keep me laughing all night long! How can you not love that?”
“Okay Izzy, so it's confirmed, you're a wacko. You keep the Rogen lookalike, and I’ll call dibs on any Efron wannabes. Deal?” I tease her and extend my hand for her to shake on it. She bites her lower lip as if she’s trying real hard not to say something, but then I see that whatever she’s holding in is too much and she blurts it out.
“You sure you wanna call dibs on Zac? I always thought you were more of a Teen Wolf fan. Maybe a Derek Hale type of girl?” I bite my inner cheek and start walking again towards the party, trying to avoid what she’s not subtly insinuating.
“I always thought Stilinsky was more my type.” I cock my eyebrow at her in defiance.
“Oh for sure babe, Stiles is right up your alley if you wanted to date someone that was exactly like you,” she laughs and links her arm with mine.
“Hum, witty as hell, sarcastically funny and cute as a button? Yeah, I wouldn’t bat an eye at that relationship. So
unds like perfection to me.” We’re getting closer now as we can already hear the music blasting from the three-story house.
“Fine have it your way, you brat. But FYI, some of the best scenes on that show were between Stiles and Derek. Everyone needs a yin to their yang.”
“Babe, in a couple of hours, I won’t care if he’s a yin or a yang, as long as he’s a good kisser. That is all I’m looking for tonight.”
“Always the romantic. Fine, let's rip this party up then!”
The game plan was to have fun, but two minutes into the fraternity house and I knew that I came looking in the wrong place for that. Each kid we passed wore designer clothes and were too clean and put together compared to the jocks I was expecting. Back home in high school, even the highest of the social chain were laid back kids. These guys, not so much. I felt like I was in a stable full of blue ribbon horses, each one with their unique and polished manes. All very athletic, built and groomed perfectly to keep that aura of money and decadence visible to everyone who took a good look their way. But if the guys were this clean cut, I don't even know how to label the girls. They hurdled themselves in small packs looking at what the stable had to offer and only get close when they were sure that the breed was to their liking. Yep, a real horse show and the place reeked of ostentatious manure. I was definitely not a winning pony in a horse show nor did I ever wish to be. The only explanation that I could come up with is that these kids must be extras in a Gossip Girl comeback and I was being punked. Were these people for real? For crying out loud, if it wasn’t for the newest Rihanna song playing in the background and all the liquor passing around, I was sure that I just entered a Conservative party event. What was Drew even thinking? As soon as I thought it, the answer came straight at me with two solo cups in hand.
