When You Come to Me

by Jade Alyse

  “Let’s see,” Natalie began, tapping her chin with her index finger. “He saw me looking at that dress at the mall the other day. That’s it, isn’t it? He got me that dress!”

  “Yes, you’re a genius…”

  “Really?”

  “No, you’re dumb as rocks,” Asha said. “That’s not it…now, would you shut up? I’m boy-watching…some of us aren’t blessed with such great boyfriends…”

  “Well, if you didn’t find something wrong with every guy that asks you out, maybe you’d find one that suited you…”

  “Can I have Brandon? Is he up for sale?”

  “You can have him if you tell me the surprise…”

  “Can’t do that,” Asha said. “He swore me to complete secrecy…he told me that he’d kill me if I said anything…”

  “I swear, you try and have an open and honest relationship with someone and it goes down the toilet just as soon as another pretty brown face comes along,” Natalie teased.

  “Oh, please…you know you’ve got him where you want him…”

  “Ha, it’s definitely vice versa,” Natalie said, spotting Brandon leaning over the bar, still attempting to flag down the bartender. She watched a pair of skimpily dressed blondes who stood behind him, no more than a couple of feet away, whispering and snickering to each other. Moments later, one of them got enough nerve to approach Brandon’s side, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

  Natalie tapped her friend. “Ash, will you look at this?”

  “Look at what?” Asha followed the extension of Natalie’s pointed finger, landing at the bar.

  “Oh,” Asha said. “That…”

  This happened often. She and Asha had spent months teasing him about the girls he attracted without even trying, even the strange ones that sort of stalked him, remembered his birthday even when he couldn’t remember their names, did odd favors for him without him even asking, asked him on dates even when Natalie was standing right beside him, showing up uninvited when he played soccer on the fields with some of his friends, cheering him on like little girls. But Brandon, in an attempt to be modest, brushed these girls off as silly, and assured her not to worry.

  She didn’t, of course, trusting him completely.

  The girls watched.

  “What do you think she’s saying to him?” Natalie asked Asha.

  “Probably something about what a huge slut she is…”

  “I mean, besides the obvious…”

  “I bet her name is Becky,” Asha joked.

  “I was thinking something like…Elizabeth,” Natalie added.

  “That’s a good one…or maybe something really trashy…like…like, Crystal or Jolene…”

  “You’re so mean, Asha,” Natalie said. “But I like it…”

  “Thanks…”

  “He better not talk to her…”

  “If he’s got any sense, he’ll look in our direction…”

  “He hasn’t done it yet,” Natalie said. “If he doesn’t do it in the next five seconds, I’ll kill him…”

  Brandon nodded in their direction.

  “Good boy,” Asha said. “You have him well-trained…”

  “I do what I can…”

  The boys came to the table shortly following, and Brandon handed each of them a glass of soda, teasingly remarking, “You know, for you young ones". Then Brandon sat himself down beside Natalie. It took a few moments before he realized that she was staring at him with her arms folded.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asked her.

  “What was that up there at the bar?”

  “Your surprise…”

  She pursed her lips, as if to show she wasn’t amused.

  “Ok, sorry,” he told her, reaching for the drink he’d placed down on the table. “Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Tal…”

  “I’m not…”

  “Tell me, what’s the problem?”

  “Who were they?”

  “So you are the jealous type…”

  “Am not…who were they?”

  Brandon huffed, placed his drink down, and said, “One of them was Scotty’s ex-girlfriend, and the other was her friend who used to like me once upon a time…you know, one of the stalkers…”

  “I see…”

  And Natalie looked away. Brandon placed an arm around her, while the next artist took the stage and started warming up his acoustic guitar, while Scotty and Asha talked, and he whispered, “Don’t worry, it meant nothing, I promise…”

  She looked at him, studied his eyes momentarily and sighed. “Ok…”

  “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “I will if you tell me what you’re hiding…”

  “Not a chance, baby,” he chuckled.

  “Not even a clue?”

  “Not even that…”

  “I’ll be your best friend…”

  “You’re that already…”

  He rested his forehead against hers. She sighed.

  “Our relationship will go down the drain because of this,” she told him.

  “So, you’re threatening me, now?”

  “I’m just telling it like it is,” she told him with a shrug. “One morning you’ll wake up and I won’t be there…”

  “Well then, I’m in the clear because you’ve never stayed the night…”

  “I will if you tell me…”

  “Nope…you should spend the night because I want you to, not because I have something you want…”

  “You snore…”

  “I do not…”

  “Don’t lie, I’ve heard you,” she told him. “It’s loud, obnoxious, and I’m afraid that you’ll croak at any moment…”

  “I always sleep better and quieter with someone laying next to me…”

  “Scotty’s your roommate, get him…”

  “I was thinking someone a little smaller…and browner…”

  “Asha?”

  “Natalie…tonight would be a perfect night…”

  “I can’t, I have homework…”

  “It’s Saturday…”

  “I promised Asha I’d do the dishes…”

  “That can wait till tomorrow…I washed my sheets just for you…”

  “All of my pajamas are in the wash…”

  “I have something you can wear, you know that,” he told her. “Got anymore excuses?”

  Natalie sighed and fell silent.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. “It’s easy…we’re going back to the house to hang out, all you have to do is lay on my bed with me when you get sleepy…it’s not that complicated…I won’t even touch you…”

  “You won’t?”

  “No, I promise…”

  She trusted him when he said that though she couldn’t get the thought of him touching her at all out of her head. She was fearful that him even laying an arm across her in bed, kissing her goodnight would lead to this thing and that thing and the next thing, and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself…

  “Brandon, I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can…”

  “You don’t understand…”

  “Try me…”

  “Why can’t we talk about this later?”

  “Or, we can step outside right now…”

  “Why can’t we enjoy the music?”

  “Because something isn’t right here…”

  Of course not! Hadn’t Brandon been patient enough with her? Had it not been over five months? When would she get over the sensation and the worry that Brandon would do something to harm her?

  They excused themselves from the table and Brandon lead her outside on the sidewalk, standing before her with his arms folded, waiting for her to say something.

  She pressed something inside of her to tell him how she was feeling as if it were that easy.

  “Just tell me, Natalie,” he demanded. “What’s going on? Are you really that afraid that I might do something to you?”

  No, I’m afraid of you…


  She only looked at him and shrugged her shoulders plainly.

  “God, sometimes I forget that you’re only nineteen…”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means, have I ever done anything with you that might suggest I wanted something else from you than what we have now?”

  She shook her head. “But Sophia…you and Sophia…”

  “God, Sophia? Really? That’s a totally different situation. And yes, that’s all we had, and that’s what messed us up…”

  “I can’t help but compare the two…”

  “Natalie, please,” he said with slight irritation. “Do I want to have sex with you? Do I want to? Yes. Very much so. I'm a man at the end of the day. But I know you’re not ready, I know you’re not. That sure as hell doesn’t mean that I’m looking at any other girls nor am I thinking about Sophia. She’s out of my life and you’re in it. And I’ll wait till you’re ready…I don’t care if it’s eighteen years from now. Damn it, I hope not…but you know what I’m trying to say…”

  She approached him slowly, he dropped his hands, and they went in for an embrace; a tight one, slow and smooth.

  “I love you,” he whispered into her ear. “That means something to me, and it sure as hell better mean something to you…”

  “It does,” she chuckled. “But I’m not ready to stay over with you…”

  She felt him sigh and he nodded. “Okay…that’s fine…I’ll convince you one day…now can we please go back inside? I need to show Scotty and Asha what I can do on that dance floor…”

  They walked back inside and they found their friends already dancing to some slow-tempo number by the stage with the artist with the acoustic guitar, with their arms playfully thrown across each other, trying to sing the words but struggling. Scotty, swung Asha from side to side, through his arms and out the other side, acting as suave and sophisticated as he could, while Asha laughed at him uncontrollably, as if he were the funniest thing she’d ever seen. Then he let go of her shortly following, and approached Natalie, who still stood with Brandon, taking her hand gently, and saying, “Let me show you what he can’t do for you,” twirling her around once. Brandon stood alone with his arms folded, saying, “Don’t do anything stupid, or I’ll beat your ass!”

  Scotty made a face to show his irreverence, and twirled Natalie again, pulling her into his body, aligning his hand with the sloping curve in her back, taking her free hand gallantly and placing it to his chest.

  Scotty was a good dancer.

  “I think we’re making him jealous,” Scotty whispered, followed by a snicker.

  “I think you secretly want him to kill you,” Natalie replied, letting Scotty twirl her around once more.

  She looked in Brandon’s direction. “He’s watching us, you know.”

  “Of course I know,” Scotty shrugged. “He’s crazy about you…”

  Natalie attempted to make a face and act surprised, and she said, “Is he now?”

  “Nat, you know that,” he told her, spinning her. “But if he has any balls, he’ll come out here and grab you away from me…”

  “We’ll see about that,” Natalie said. “You embarrassed him enough that he doesn’t even want to try and dance…”

  “I was only kidding,” Scotty said. “And look…Asha’s going to get him…”

  They watched as Asha literally had to drag Brandon out onto the dance floor, watching his face turn bashful.

  “Get him, Ash!” Natalie called out as she watched Asha pull him into her, placing his hands on her hips, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, and it looked as if she were coaching his dancing, showing him how to move his feet.

  Natalie rested her head on Scotty’s shoulder and said, “Aw, he looks so cute.”

  “Yea, he’s not half bad, I guess,” Scotty chuckled. “But he sure does stand out…”

  “Yes, he does,” Natalie said. “But I wouldn’t want him any other way…”

  “I think he said that about you once upon a time…”

  “Speaking of things he’s said about me…”

  Scotty sighed heavily and smiled. “Nat, I can’t tell you…”

  “Scott, please…”

  “You know Brandon is my boy, and I can’t tell you what he doesn’t want me to tell you,” he said. “Just let it be a surprise, will you?”

  “No…give me a hint.”

  “What has Asha told you? I know she can’t keep her mouth shut for more than five seconds.”

  “Nothing much…what you got for me?”

  “You’ll like the surprise.”

  “Will I really like it? Or just like it?”

  “Natalie, you’ll love it…”

  “I most certainly like to hear that…”

  “I can’t tell you anymore than he wants you to know,” Scotty said, starting to dance a little quicker as the song changed. “And that ain’t much…”

  “What happened to friendship? What happened to loyalty?” Natalie teased.

  “Nat, I love you, you know that,” Scotty said. “But my loyalties are with him. And if he doesn’t want you to know what’s going on for your twentieth birthday, then I can’t tell you…”

  “Fine, fine,” she sighed. “I’ll give it a rest…”

  “Good,” Scotty said. “Because here comes your boy right now…”

  Sure enough, Brandon had broken free of Asha’s grasp and was walking towards them, extending his hands in Natalie’s direction.

  “Now that I’m warmed up,” he said, smiling. “Asha made me pull a muscle, I think…”

  Brandon held his arm. Scotty slapped his back. “She’s all yours…and that pretty brunette by the bar is all mine…”

  She reached for her boyfriend, and they watched Scotty skirt over to the bar.

  “He’ll never change,” Brandon said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person…”

  “Maybe he hasn’t been looking,” Brandon chuckled. “Besides, we all can’t be as lucky…”

  Natalie felt herself blush, and she leaned up and kissed the side of his face. “No, I suppose we can’t…”

  They danced for awhile, Brandon surprisingly well, her, enjoying the way he felt near her, placing her face in the nape of his neck just so, smelling him a little, feeling his fingers clench at her sides.

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed into him as they swayed.

  Brandon pulled apart from her a little, to get a view of her face, and he furrowed his brows.

  “Say what?”

  “I said ‘I’m sorry’,” she whispered again, examining his face.

  “For what?”

  “For that terrible fight we had earlier,” she said. “I was being childish, but I just wanted you to understand…”

  “You call that a fight? I’ve had worse, trust me,” he admitted with a chuckle. “And you’re not ready, I completely understand that…well…not completely, but I respect your decision all the while…you just let me know when you are…I’ll wait for you…”

  #

  She wasn’t a huge fan of all of the secrecy that surrounded her that following week, at how they each laughed at her, secretly planning stuff right in front of her face. She’d inquire and they’d all deny it, as if they enjoyed seeing her squirm.

  Under the circumstances, she kept her cool, pretended as if she didn’t care about her twentieth birthday at all. After all, she wasn’t necessarily accustomed to celebrating her birthday with candles and bright, billowy birthday cakes and balloons and clowns anyway. She wasn’t accustomed to receiving big gifts, and had gotten used to no one making a big deal about it. After all, could she or anyone else necessarily help it that her father, the elusive Raphael Alba Santos, decided to leave mere hours before sunrise on the day of her tenth birthday?

  Could anyone necessarily blame her for not wanting to even think about another birthday following? The only person she’d told about this embarrassing histor
y was Brandon, and he understood.

  All that man left her was a note, telling her how sorry he was, wishing her a happy birthday, telling her that she’d always be his querido.

  She left her lab in the early evening, in the middle of that week, and headed in the direction of the large soccer fields on East Campus, under warm October sunlight and crisp, breezy autumn air. The fields were shaded by fanning branches of oaks and reddened maple leaves, slightly overgrown, and she spotted him instantly, tall, with white shorts, three-stripe tube socks, an old soccer uniform from his high school days and a long, athletic frame, legs sprawling out, longing to kick the ball. If she admired nothing else about him, she would admire his physical appearance, his long legs, his high kicks, the way he grunted when he missed the ball, the determination, the hunger, the drive of competition flooding his eyes. She would admire how beautiful he looked, despite his sweatiness, and his tiredness, in his full masculine form. She would admire the fact that he was hers; him and that pretty body of his.

  This is what he’d done all summer, when he wasn’t around her, helping her get situated in the bedroom in Asha’s apartment; ordering pizzas with Scotty; lounging around on her grandmother’s old sofa; watching television; eating all of her food and drinking all of her juice; or getting on her last nerve with his belching and stomach-scratching and yawning and breaking everything in his path with his oversized clumsiness. Yes, Brandon Greene was on that field, with his friends, joking and playing, kicking and grunting, hoping that he didn’t lose so he wouldn’t have to buy each guy on the opposing side beers at the pub downtown.

  She quickly discovered the reason why Brandon Greene came to UGA: to play soccer. He said some strange, balding recruiter with the biggest southern accent he’d ever heard, had come up to New York to watch him play and had loved what he’d seen, and had offered him a full scholarship to play for the school. So, Brandon, whose initial plans were to go to Syracuse and study finance and marketing, where the rest of his friends from up north were going, packed up his things and headed south. He naturally experienced initial culture shock. He played for the team for a semester or two, then quit suddenly, without any sort of explanation. He lost his scholarship, of course, and his parents had to pay out-of-state tuition strictly out-of-pocket, which, he explained, they still aren’t very pleased with to this day.