by B. E. Laine
“Karaline, are you okay?!” he said sounding worried.
I don’t look at him. He reaches for my arm, but I flinch away and he backs off. I remember that Lauren said she knew him, and she told the security guy to not kick him out. If she thinks he’s a good guy, then why am I freaking out? Because I don’t even know my roommate that well to start off with, and I really don’t know who this guy is. I am sitting in his car and don’t know where I’m at in the city. I am so stupid.
“Hey?” he said, in a softer tone.
“L-Lauren said she knew you, that you were a good guy.”
“Lauren?” he said, looking confused. “Oh, is that your friend?”
OH, MY GOSH! She lied! “I’m s-sorry. I have to go. I’ll find my own way back.” I open the door, jump out, and start walking. I’ve gotten myself into this mess; I’m sure nothing else can happen.
I start to walk faster, as I hear his door slam. Shit! This is where he grabs me, pulls me back into his car, and has his way with me. Please God, not again. I don’t know why this can be happening to me twice.
“Kara!” he yells.
It didn’t take much for him to catch up with me. He grabs my arm to get me to stop. I shrink back, waiting for the blows or for him to drag me back to the car. That night flashes through my mind … the look on Jeremy’s face, the headlights, blow after blow. I can feel myself freaking out, but I can’t stop it. Then the sickness comes. When the past likes to revisit my present, I get sick. I make it to the side of the building and let everything come up in their flower bed.
“Hey … it’s okay. What’s wrong?” He sounds genuinely concerned, but it could be a trick.
I try to pry my arm away from his hand. “I’ll let go, but you have to promise me you will tell me why you’re freaking out?” he says, sounding uneasy.
“Just get it over with, please,” I say, in a small pleading voice.
Instantaneously, he lets go of my arm. I stand there frozen, not knowing what to do. I’m still shaking, going through a hundred scenarios in my head. Should I run? If I did, could I find my way back to the dorms? Why would it matter? I would probably find a bigger creep trying to get back on my own. It’s late and I’m a helpless, clueless girl. I could go back into the restaurant and use their phone to call Lauren or the guy I used work with, but it’s late and I don’t know if they would be up. Who knows how many IHOP’s there are in the city. I’m royally screwed either way.
“Kara …,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry if I said something wrong, but I would never hurt you.”
He slowly reaches for me. I jump back staring at the ground. I’m hoping he will just go get in his car and leave. We just stand there like idiots in the parking lot of IHOP. Just breathe. If he wanted to do something, he would have already done it … or at least tried to get me back in the car so we wouldn’t make a scene. I can feel myself starting to calm down. He is giving me space, but still staying close by. While I stand there, I can see that he’s really concerned. I realize I have made a complete fool out of myself. I can’t stop the inevitable form happening, but I need to live my life. Fate will happen either way. I wish I could have realized this before now. Before I found myself standing at IHOP with a complete stud and embarrassing myself. Life would have been a lot easier.
I look up at him to find him running his hands through his black hair, worry etched on his face. When he looks up, our eyes meet, and I realize that he is at a loss as to what I’m going to do next. The first guy that I’m attracted to in years and I have a freak out in front of him.
“I’m s-sorry,” I say, looking down again.
He takes a timid step forward, slowly raises his hand (making sure that I see what he is doing), and gently lifts my chin up. We are so close I can see that there are specks of gray in those meticulous hazel eyes of his. They are so pure that I instantly feel guilty for accusing this nice guy or assuming what his intentions were tonight. “I don’t know what that was, but will you please come back to my car? I will take you home if you want, but I would really like to talk … just talk,” he says, placidly.
“O-okay …,” I say, guarded.
I start the walk of shame. I’m so humiliated. He opens my door, and I cautiously climb in. Before he gets in, I take the time to take a deep breath and calm my nerves. He doesn’t say anything, just begins to drive. I’m guessing he knows where the university is. I don’t want to ask, though.
We drive for what isn’t more than twenty minutes, and I start to recognize my surroundings. I see the corner mart where I go to buy my food, then we pass the coffee shop that I worked at for the first three years of school so I know that we are not far from campus. I watch the street lights go by, one by one. Maybe he will just drop me off and we will go our separate ways. No way am I going to start a friendship, let alone any sort of relationship, with him after the way I acted.
He turns onto the campus and without looking at me, says, “What building is it?”
“B,” I say, while twisting my hands in my lap.
He pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. He just sits there with his hands on the wheel. He looks like he is contemplating something.
“Thank-you for dinner and the ride back … and I’m sorry for the way I acted,” I manage to say.
I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle. “Wait …” I stop and look back at him. “Maybe, it would help if you talked to someone about it …”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, hoping that he buys that. He didn’t because he gave me a look that says, I’m not stupid and I can’t believe that you’re trying to play me for a fool.
“I-I … um …” I have only ever told one person the story, and it was an agonizing ten minutes … and I knew him. I honestly don’t know if I can replay that night to a stranger. He is asking a lot and I’m not so sure he really wants to hear it; he only thinks he does.
“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,” I say, in a more forceful voice.
“I saw the way you went white as a ghost when I said … um … that word,” he says, sounding unsure of how to proceed with this.
I just sit here, indecisive if I should tell him. I only just met him, and I’m still shocked that what already happened has not scared him off yet. If I tell him, that sure will.
“You’re not going to scare me off, if that’s what you’re thinking. Listen, I know you just met me, but I honestly do want to get to know you. Kara, there’s something about you that makes me want to get to know you better. That means the good and the bad.” He stops talking for a minute. How did he know what I was thinking? He continues, “But if you don’t want to get to know me, I understand and you’ll never see me again.”
Okay, not what I thought he was going to say. I want to tell him, but I’m scared. Just the thought of reliving all that, even if it is only in my head, makes me feel sick. I have never wanted to tell anyone before, but maybe I should. What would it hurt if I just let loose and told all my secrets to a complete stranger? It might help me, and I might not see him again. You know what? Fuck it!
“Okay, you asked for it,” I say throwing my hands up in a gesture of giving up. I turn my body to face him, and he visibly relaxes.
Forty-five minutes of gruesomely revisiting the past, stopping to cry a few times, I am done. Actually, I do feel better, but I don’t know what he is thinking. He just sat there the whole time. A nod of the head, and some facial expressions I hope to never see again, was all I got out of him throughout the whole thing.
I take a chance and look up at him. He is just staring at me with this look that I can’t read. Is he mad? Why would he be mad at me? He wanted me to tell him. He is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white and the veins are sticking out of his arm. He acts like he is trying to choose his next words.
I just look back down at my lap, silently waiting. I hear him mutteri
ng curses under his breath, which makes me glance back up at him. His whole hand is white now and he is shaking. For some reason, instead of being scared or trying to get out of the car and run to my dorm, I just have a feeling of wanting to soothe him.
“Hey … Drew. It’s okay. Calm down. I’m sorry,” I say, as gentle as I can, hoping to break this trance he’s in.
Abruptly, he snaps out of it, searing me with his wrathful eyes. “Don’t … don’t you ever be sorry, Karaline. Do you understand me?” At first, his voice was brutally angry, but he ended in a soothing tone. I nod and he nods back. He turns his head to look out the window again.
I give him time to calm down. I’m not sure what I should do … leave or stay? I don’t know if he still wants to talk, or if he would just like the messed-up girl to get out of his car.
He interrupts my thoughts. “Who is he?” By the tone in his voice, I know not to argue with him.
“Just a guy from where I’m originally from … a small town a few hours away.” He just nods his head again, but I can see his jaw tighten.
The silence is killing me, and it’s getting late, so I say, “I’m going to go, okay?” Why did that come out like I’m asking him? “It’s getting late …” I’m hoping he will speak to me, but I don’t understand why I’m explaining myself.
He takes a deep breath. “If that’s what you want, but I would like for you to stay and talk to me.”
“Okay. What do you want to talk about?” I’m uncertain of where this is going.
He still doesn’t talk, just cautiously reaches over and pulls my hands apart. I didn’t realize that I was still clasping them in my lap. He holds my hand and everything inside me is awake now. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Karaline. No one, especially you, deserved that. Okay?” He looks at me with tenderness all over his face.
“Okay.” I look down.
He takes his free hand and lifts my chin up. He waits until I am looking him straight in the eyes. “Don’t …” I slowly nod, then he takes his hand and puts it against the side of my face. He starts rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I lean into his hand, closing my eyes, relishing in the feeling of comfort and protectiveness.
My eyes flutter open. I don’t remember the last time I have felt that sense of calmness. As I look into his caring eyes and feel his delicate touch on my cheek, he starts to lean forward. He stops to make sure I know what he’s doing, like he is waiting for the okay from me. Nothing else has ever felt this right.
I lean in the rest of the way, and he takes my mouth into the most luscious tender kiss I could ever have imagined from a guy like him. With the rough exterior of ample muscles and abundant tattoos, I would have never expected this kind of compassion.
His lips are so soft, so luscious. There were no words for the feeling when they touched mine. I felt like I could almost combust. I want to keep this feeling in me somehow. No one can hurt me when he is touching me. I do not know what it is, but there is something about him that I know I’m not going to be able to let go.
He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead onto mine, closing his eyes. “You are perfect,” he says, breathless.
A laugh escapes that I didn’t even know I had in me. For some reason, that was really funny to me. Is this guy seriously delusional? Not only am I nowhere near perfect on the outside, he should know, after what I just told him, that I am not even close to perfect on the inside, either.
“Hey … don’t do that. Don’t start putting yourself down in your head. You are a great person.”
“Drew, you don’t even know me so you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, shaking my head and rolling my eyes.
“I’m a pretty good judge of character, if I say so myself.” He puts his hand on his chest comically, making me laugh again. Just like that, all the tension in the air was gone.
“Oh, really?” I question, raising my eyebrows.
Shrugging his shoulders, he says, “I’m just saying, sweetheart.”
I just smile and shake my head. I glance at the clock on his dash. Four in the morning?! Holy shit! I haven’t stayed up this late since … hell, I don’t even remember. I look back at him, and he acts like he knows what I’m going to say before I even say it. I sigh. “I should probably get to my room.”
“Yeah, I should probably get home, too. I have work in a few hours,” he states, dreadfully.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have kept you out so late.” Crap! I don’t want him to be tired tomorrow because of me. Ugh! I’m horrible.
“It’s fine, Kara. Please don’t worry about it.”
“No, I’m sorry. You’re going to be tired all day tomorrow now because of me,” I say, really feeling like shit.
“Hey, what did I tell you about the ‘I’m sorry’ business? Huh?” he says, as he takes my face in both his hands and places a light kiss on my lips. Oh, those soft, full lips again. I could get lost in those all night. No, he has work! I can’tt keep thinking of myself.
“Well, I guess I’m going to go so you can go get some sleep.” It is so obvious that I do not want to leave.
“I feel the same way. I don’t want to leave. Whatever is going on between us, I don’t want it to end.”
There he goes reading my mind again. “I know …” I do understand where he is coming from because I am on the same page. I have not dated or anything with a guy in almost five years. It feels strange. I’m scared that I might not be … I don’t know … up-to-date on everything that inquires dating. I have really kept to myself over the years, learned to keep my feelings at bay. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to move on. I did it to protect myself from getting hurt again. Now here I am considering this. I am going to have to be careful and keep my feelings at a distance for a little while. I have to make sure he’s real.
He kissed me one last time before I got out of his car. I’m walking on cloud nine towards my dorm door. The last kiss gave me same feeling as the first. If it’s like that every time, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to keep the walls up.
I turn around when I get to my door. He is still sitting there to make sure I get in okay. He tried to insist on walking me, but I told him to go ahead and leave so he could get home to catch some sleep. Honestly, if he didn’t leave, I might have been tempted to sneak his hot ass into my room. I reminded myself that if we’re going to try and get to know each other, it would not be the way to start out. So we gave each other our numbers, and he told me he would text me from work when he had a chance. Since I have the weekend off before classes and my new internship program starts, I’m going to have to find something to keep me busy so I won’t look so desperate waiting on his texts. I could do some laundry or clean out my room … oh, am I kidding? I’ll be hanging on every last text he sends me like a freaking teenage girl.
That is probably what scares me the most … feeling like some love sick puppy, or just some crush that will end up making me want to go live in a cave. I know I can’t be like this forever. I knew it would happen eventually. Okay, maybe I just hoped that I would meet a guy that I could be attracted to. I have felt like HE ruined that for me because I couldn’t look at a man and not think that he could be like that. I knew him … well, obviously, I didn’t, but I thought I did so it makes me wonder how much you can really know someone. After it happened, I used to ask why couldn’t it have been a stranger at least, not someone that I trusted at one point.
For years, the thought of telling anybody what happened had me scared to death. I didn’t know if they would turn their back on me, or think I was a whore and asked for it, like Aaron did. To have your boyfriend at the time accuse you of something like that was even more heartbreaking.
I know I only spent one night with Drew, but we talked so much that I feel like telling him was the right choice. Never in a million years did I think I would tell anyone, let alone a guy that I just met. I know I would have never ended up with him if I wouldn’t have been drinking, and I never would have been dr
inking if Lauren hadn’t conned me into going tonight.
Speaking of that little devil, I wonder what was up with her telling me she knew him. When I said her name, I could tell by the look on his face that he had no clue who I was talking about. She is going to pay for that one.
I make it back in my dorm room. I can tell that Lauren is crawled up under her bright pink comforter so I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to let her have it. However, if she wouldn’t have lied to me, I wouldn’t have had the best and worst night in my life. So it’s on the boarder of kissing her ass or chewing her ass. I’m still thinking the latter.
I awake to the sun streaming through the curtains, hitting me right in the face. Ugh, I haven’t stayed up that late in years. Did last night really happen? Did I really spill my guts to a total stranger, stay out all night with him, and kiss him?! No way …
I lean over to unplug my phone from the charger, and to see how long I slept. I never have any messages so when I unlock my phone and find TWO new messages, I’m a little more than surprised.
First text message at 7:30 AM:
Hey, beautiful! I am up and ready for work! Told ya’ I’d be okay … Hope to hear from you later!
Second text 10:00 AM:
Coffee is my new best friend, but I wouldn’t have traded last night for anything … thank-you for going to eat with me. I hope you’re having a great day!
Wow, I guess I’m not going to be waiting around for a text from him because I got not one but TWO cute morning texts! This giddy feeling when I think of him scares me to death, but I think it’s about time I start living a little. This is my last semester of college. I deserve a little fun. What do I have to lose? Well, everything I’ve worked for and tried to get away from. Maybe, I should think twice about all of this first. Maybe I can talk to Lauren, see what she thinks I should do. I’m not going to tell her everything, but … wait, I still need to talk to that little …
