I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear her voice right beside me – quickly I flick the button to switch off the camera before she catches me staring at her picture on the small screen. When I look up at her she’s eyeing me curiously, probably wondering why I’m so jumpy.
“I have a headache,” she says carefully. “I think the other girls are going to hang around a little longer, but I need to head back and lie down.”
“I’ll walk you,” I tell her.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile. “I want to.”
The few minutes it takes us to get from the quad to Argenta Hall are spent in relative silence. Once we reach the steps leading up to the front entrance, Tawny stops and turns to face me.
“Did you want to come up?” she asks uncertainly.
I search her eyes, attempting to divine whether she wants me to say yes, but even though I think I see some measure of desire there, I’m not willing to take the gamble based on my assumptions.
“Nah, I should head back and look for Les. He gave me a ride here anyway.”
“Oh, you don’t live on campus?” she asks.
“No, I live in a house a couple miles from here.”
She nods. “Well… It was good to see you. Thanks for walking with me.”
She holds my gaze for several beats, and after a while I suddenly realize I’ve been holding my breath. God, what is this girl doing to me? I must seem psychotic, constantly lapsing into these moody silences. Frustrated with my own weird behavior, I huff out the air in my lungs just as she’s turning around and say, “Wait, Tawny?”
She cuts her eyes back in my direction, and I take a step closer, doing my best to ignore the overwhelming temptation to touch her. Dropping my voice an octave I say quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you after that night at Jared’s house. It was…a weird month for me.”
“That’s okay,” she says softly. “I didn’t really expect you to.”
My stomach twists a little at her words, and I nod slowly. My eyes flicker to her mouth, and for a moment I’m powerless to tear my gaze away from her full, soft lips. I clear my throat and take a step back. “Still, I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for the ride. Why don’t you come over to my house sometime and I’ll make you dinner? It’s the least I can do after you put up with my drunk ass.” I smile, hoping to impart some humor before I dig myself any deeper.
“Okay,” she says, smiling back shyly.
“Yeah?” I grin. “Okay, how about Saturday? It’ll be our last little celebration before classes start.”
“Sounds good,” she agrees. “Except I don’t have a car here. Can you come pick me up?”
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be here at seven.”
“Okay…see ya then.”
“Good night, Tawny. Feel better.”
I walk away feeling mystified. I wonder if I’ve read more into her hooded glances than I should have. I figured she had a crush on me in high school, but now it’s anybody’s guess whether those feelings have resurfaced. I suppose it’s beside the point – Tawny is really too sweet and innocent. I need to be careful; she doesn’t seem like one to go for meaningless sex, and I’m not really a relationship kind of guy.
Chapter 5 – Open Up
Saturday, August 19
Tawny – 5:45 PM
It’s been a productive day. I went to the bookstore and bought all the textbooks and supplies I’ll need for this semester, and I even did my first assignment for my online sociology course by posting a thread in the online forum about why I enrolled in the class. I’m feeling very accomplished and optimistic, as if maybe college won’t be so hard after all. Of course, I’d be lying if I said my sunny disposition had nothing to do with my plans for this evening…
Energized by my newfound sense of buoyancy, I decide to tackle the heap of clothing that’s built up in the floor of my closet over the past week, separating the dirty from the clean, and then re-organize my desk. I’ve just started alphabetizing the few DVDs I brought with me when my phone rings.
“Hey sis,” I say, cradling the phone against my shoulder as I begin to re-shelve my newly organized movie collection.
“Hey, how’s college life treating you?”
“It’s great!” I tell her. “I got all my books today. Now I’m just cleaning my room a little bit.”
“Wow, that’s great, baby girl…I’ve never heard you sound so excited about cleaning before.”
I giggle. “I’ll admit it’s slightly out of character. It’s not that dirty, though. I’ve only lived here for a week, you know.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be so great having you this close. You’ll be able to come visit as much as you want! We’ll have to plan a beach trip sometime before the weather turns.”
“Definitely,” I agree, moving on to dusting my already spotless shelves.
Rhiannon blows out a sigh. “So, do you have big plans for the evening?”
“Umm…well actually, I do. I’m going over to Kyle’s house – he’s cooking me dinner.”
“Oh really?” she says, drawing out the last word in a way that makes me think of an old man stroking his beard. “Fascinating… I’ll bet you’re excited.”
“I am,” I reply. “Except… I don’t really know if this is a date or not. He just said he wanted to thank me for giving him a ride home that one night.”
“Oh, I’d say this is definitely a date,” she says. “A boy doesn’t cook a girl dinner just to say thank you.” She switches to a sing-songy voice as she adds, “Tawny has an admirer!”
I blush as I laugh in spite of myself. “We don’t know that,” I say.
Now it’s Rhiannon’s turn to giggle. “I wonder what he’ll cook for you. I wonder if he’s like a closet gourmet chef.”
“Yuck, I hope not. You know I don’t do the fancy stuff. And anyway, I have to start getting ready. He’s coming to get me in less than an hour.”
“Okay, but you have to promise to text me later on tonight and let me know how it went.”
“Yeah sure, will do. Later!”
“Bye, have fun!”
Kyle – 7:00 PM
I send Tawny a text letting her know I’m double parked outside the dorm, so I can’t come up. There’s already a campus policeman staring me down, looking highly suspicious of me.
I fiddle around nervously, smoothing out my pant legs, then adjusting and readjusting my rearview mirror. What the hell is my deal? I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, then turn my head just in time to see Tawny breezing out the front doors and descending the limestone steps. Her tanned legs look amazing in a pair of denim shorts that cut off mid-thigh, and she’s wearing a very flattering purple and white patterned top that forms to her little waist and her chest. Her hair is down, which I love. She looks around, and it suddenly occurs to me she doesn’t know what kind of car I drive, so I pop open the door and put my left foot down, standing up just enough so she can see me wave over the roof of my Jeep.
She opens the passenger side door and hops in just as I slam my door shut again. I offer the cop a little wave as I put the Jeep in drive and peel out onto Sierra Street. “You look pretty,” I tell Tawny as she fastens her seatbelt. When I glance over I can see she has a small braid running along the crown of her head that’s woven into the mane of auburn waves tumbling down her back. It makes her look a little bohemian – I like it.
“Thanks,” she says as she tucks her hair behind her ears. “You look good, too.”
I glance down at my jeans and t-shirt, confused. It’s true I shaved a little bit and combed my hair before I came over, but I never put much thought into my clothing choices. “Thank you,” I reply, because it seems polite.
I clear my throat and say, “So, I probably should’ve explained to you before I’m not really much of a cook. There are only like two or three things I can actually make, so I hope you weren’t expecting oysters or an
ything impressive like that.”
She laughs. “No, I’m relieved to hear you say that actually. I’m kind of a picky eater, so I was hoping you hadn’t gone to any trouble making anything fancy.”
I grin in relief as I turn a corner, wishing I could look at her. “You’re not a vegetarian are you?”
“Nope.”
“Any weird food allergies?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Whew. Good. I guess these are questions I probably should have asked before coming to pick you up.”
“I’m sure I’ll like whatever you made,” she says.
A few minutes later we pull into my driveway. The white ranch-style house isn’t much to look at, but it has character, and in my book that counts for a lot.
“You live here alone?” Tawny asks as she opens her door.
“No, I have a roommate. Her name’s Shelley, but she’s hardly ever here. Her car isn’t here, so I have no idea what her plans are for this evening.”
Tawny nods slowly, digesting this piece of information. Shelley is a fellow journalism major with a boyfriend who’s getting his MBA at UN. When she asked me early last spring if I was looking for a roommate because hers was moving out at the end of the semester, it hadn’t occurred to me living with a female might arouse questions from the girls I brought home.
We walk up the steps to the screened in porch and cross to the front door. I turn my key in the lock and swing the door open, then stand aside to let Tawny pass into the living room. She kicks off her sandals next to the doormat before crossing barefoot into the house.
I follow her inside and watch her while she looks around, taking in the scuffed hardwood floors and matching cream colored couch and loveseat. Most of the furniture is Shelley’s; she had already added the feminine touches before I got here. I have to admit I like it though – the curtains in the windows, the pictures on the walls. Makes the place feel homey.
“It smells good in here,” Tawny says, turning back around to face me. Suddenly I feel like I’ve been caught staring at something I shouldn’t. I smile, rolling my shoulders back in an effort to relax.
“I should probably check to make sure it isn’t burning.”
I walk back to the kitchen and switch on the oven light, then crouch down to peer through the window. The red sauce on the meatloaf is bubbling; there are ten minutes left on the timer. I open the cabinet to the right of the oven and take out a sauce pan, run some water in it and turn on the burner to boil the water. I turn around, wiping my hands on my jeans, just as Tawny appears in the doorway.
“What are you cooking?” she asks.
“Meatloaf?” I say, watching her face for any sign of distaste. She only smiles though.
“I love meatloaf.”
“What about mac and cheese?” I ask.
Her eyes light up like those of a little kid who’s just heard the ice cream truck go by. “My favorite,” she says. She crosses the tiled floor to sit at the kitchen table and curls one foot up underneath her while letting her other leg dangle over the side of the chair. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the counter. Her body is actually perfect, I think to myself, admiring the lean length of her legs, her toned arms and the arches of her small feet – not to mention those tits. How could I have missed this in high school? The desire to walk over and kiss her is almost more than I can take. Oh God, what am I doing?
Tawny blinks up at me expectantly, and it occurs to me I’m being a pretty shitty host. “Can I get you anything to drink?” I ask. I open the refrigerator and scan the shelves, a little embarrassed at the lack of options. “There’s orange juice, beer and water.”
She giggles and seems to think on it for a minute. Finally she lets out a breath and says, “I’ll take a beer.” She says it like she isn’t sure, but who am I to argue? I pop the top off a Fat Tire and set it in front of her.
“You want a glass?”
“No thanks.”
She takes a pull from the bottle and presses her moistened lips together as she swallows, like she’s afraid it might come back up. I grab a second bottle and open it for myself. Noticing the water is boiling, I grab a box of Velveeta from the cupboard and dump the shells in the pot.
“Need any help?” Tawny asks.
“Nope, I’ve got it under control,” I reply as I crouch down again to check on the meatloaf.
“So…” Tawny begins, but her voice trails off as if she doesn’t know how to proceed. I stir the pasta, then turn back around to face her. She clears her throat and takes another swig of beer, then presses on. “So you said last month was a weird month for you. Do you mind if I ask why?”
Shit. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have tonight. Not that it’s her fault… I could just make up some vague excuse, but something tells me she’d catch on, and I don’t want her to feel slighted.
I sigh and scrub at my eyes with the heels of my hands. “You know how I live with my grandparents, right?”
She nods.
“I’ve lived with them since I was – shit, I don’t even know – as long as I can remember. I never met my dad, and my mom dumped me there when I was little because she couldn’t take care of me. She disappeared for years and years, never even called. She would send me cards sometimes, at random times, like at Easter or Thanksgiving. Not on my birthday or anything like that. She did show up one time during high school and wanted me to move to Oregon with her – like I’d be crazy enough to go anywhere with her.”
The timer starts beeping, and I pull on an oven mitt and lift the meatloaf out onto the counter. I use my foot to shut the oven door and turn off the burner under the pasta. I carry the pot to the sink and dump the noodles in a colander to drain.
“Anyway,” I continue as I return the shells to the pot and squeeze on the cheese sauce, “I hadn’t seen or heard from her anymore after that, until she showed up again the day of Jared Mink’s party.”
I pause to concentrate on dishing out the meatloaf and macaroni, and Tawny waits quietly behind me. I carry two plates over to the table and sit down across from her. She’s tucked all of her hair to one side so it falls in a curtain over her right shoulder, exposing the curve of her slender neck. Her face is flushed light pink, and her lips are wet from the beer bottle. And what’s even more arousing is the fact she has no idea how sexy she looks right now, in this moment.
I rip my eyes away from her and swallow as I poke at my food with my fork.
“This looks so good, Kyle,” she says, sounding pleased. I glance up and see her smiling down at her plate, and I grin back at her.
“I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
She forks a bite of meatloaf, but stops before putting it in her mouth. “Anyway, you were saying…” she prods gently.
I take a drink of beer then forge on, eager to get this conversation over with so we can move on to happier topics. “Yeah, so she showed up that day, obviously on something, and wanted me to go on a trip with her, to which I replied no way in hell. That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. She’s just a fuck-up. Excuse my language.”
“So then she just left again?”
“Well, no… She hung around for a couple weeks, claiming she didn’t have anywhere else to go. About drove my grandma over the edge. It’s just stressful having her there, you know? I don’t like being reminded I’m related to her.”
Tawny gives me a sad smile – I hope it isn’t sympathy I see in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says.
I shrug and allow a silence to descend over us as we continue to eat.
Tawny – 7:45 PM
I’m racking my brain in search of something to say when I suddenly become distracted by a huge, orange cat slinking into the kitchen, grating its arched back up against the doorway as it enters. Kyle turns around to see what’s captured my attention; he looks back at me with a smile on his face.
“I hope you’re not allergic to cats.”
“I don’t think so,” I reply. “I’ve nev
er really been around them.”
He gets up and gathers the fat tabby in his arms, stroking its head. “This is Pumpkin,” he tells me. “Somebody had already named her when I picked her up from the shelter. She wanted nothing to do with me at first, but she’s warmed up to me now.”
I use my knuckles to scratch behind the cat’s ears, and she twists her head, rearing into my hand. I laugh. “She likes to be petted, huh?”
“Yeah, definitely. She’s a real ham.” He sets her back down on the floor before taking his seat, and she weaves between the legs of his chair, pushing against the spindles of wood while softly meowing. “My favorite thing is when she licks.” He extends his hand down in front of Pumpkin’s face. For a moment she stares at it as if she isn’t sure what he’s up to, but then she extends her tiny pink tongue and begins lapping the skin on the back of his hand. Kyle tips his face back up toward me, a huge smile on his face. “It feels scratchy,” he explains. “It tickles.”
I giggle. “I’ve never known a cat to give kisses like that.”
Kyle chuckles as he pulls his hand up into his lap and takes up his fork again.
“Now do you mind if I ask you a question?” he asks, all joking aside.
I nod for him to continue, sobered by the change in his expression.
“Feel free to tell me if this is none of my business… I know you had cancer.”
He stops and looks at me, as if to make sure it’s okay for him to go on. I offer him the tiniest hint of a smile. As much as I hate talking about my disease, I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. At the same time, I’ve struggled to not let it define me, and I can only hope Kyle is able to look at me without associating me with that awful part of my past. Maybe talking about it will enable him to put it behind us.
Forever With You (Silver State Series) Page 4
