by B. E. Laine
I look over to her side of the room to find her bed not made, but she’s not in it. So I get up and get ready for my day. Throwing on a pair of stretchy shorts and a tank, because August heat in Oklahoma is brutal, I gather up all my dirty clothes and head out toward my car. I don’t even make it there without some jerk from my one of my classes screaming across the parking lot, something about my ass. I don’t understand it because I don’t put myself out there. I go to class and to work. I know I was a social outcast my first three years at college so why scream at me when it is unwanted attention? I can clearly see Amy, one of the biggest sluts around, standing with her arms crossed and looking mad. Trust me, Miss Slut, I don’t want his attention; please, take it! I open the trunk to my car and toss my basket full of clothes in.
Hopefully, since it is only 10:45AM, there won’t be too many students at the Laundromat down the street. Maybe they will still be hung over from last night. I pull in and see only two other cars here. Thank goodness! I drag my laundry basket inside and take the first open washer, not even looking around. I like to keep to myself because it’s less drama that way, and I don’t get mixed up in something I don’t want to be in. It’s easier.
As I sit here reading some random magazine, I swear that the washer is taking longer this time than at other times. Okay, I know that’s not it. It is my cell phone that is burning a hole in my pocket. I think I should make him sweat a little. I don’t want to come off to eager, even though I am, but I do want to date. There is just something about him, though. I feel like I am fourteen again and talking to boys for the first time. Maybe I should start everything over.
I pull out my phone to see if I have any more messages. No, but I didn’t think I would so I open his first text. It’s rude not to text back, right? So I type a short message back. I try to not to sound too eager, but I don’t want him to think I don’t want to talk to him.
Sorry again about keeping you out late! Yeah, a grand ol’ day doing laundry, yuck! Hope you’re having a good day at work!
I hope that wasn’t too much. I was responding to two texts. I shove it back in my pocket, and switch my laundry over to the dryers. Sitting back down, I pick up the same magazine three times, and my knee is bouncing up and down a million miles a minute. Why does a text from this guy have me so on edge? I turn in my chair, look out the big windows, and watch people going about their Saturday mornings as if this world has no problems. Sometimes I wish everything was perfect in this world. Yeah, that is asking too much. Plus, if everyone was perfect, I wouldn’t have a job when I graduate. After everything that had happened, it hit me what I should do with my life. I should take what happened to me and make something better out of it. I want to be there for the girls that feel like no one will believe them. I know I’m not the only girl in this world with a secret. Maybe I’m crazy for thinking I can make a difference, but I figured that I should do something that is close to my heart so I picked Clinical Counseling.
The buzzing from the dryer made me jump and brought me back to reality. Sometimes I get so lost in my thoughts that I forget what I’m doing. I must have really been in my own little world because I got a text and I didn’t even hear it come in!
I told you it was fine, don’t worry … wanna’ do my laundry, too? Lol I wouldn’t make you do that, and my day just got better! ;)
I don’t know why I’ve got the biggest smile on my face ever! Oh, yeah. Maybe it’s because this amazingly sexy guy is texting me. I just don’t understand why. Oh, what I would give to do his laundry. Okay, that is pretty pathetic. I wonder if it shows that I haven’t dated since high school.
I text back:
Lol sure I will … did you just get off work?
Stop flirty texting Mr. Hottie with Tattoos, get your laundry out of the dryer, and fold! I reluctantly get up and finish my task of the day. Gathering up my belongings, I hear my phone go off in my pocket. That made me walk a little faster to my car. I pop the trunk and throw the basket in there, making my folding pretty much a waste of time. I really could care less right now. How irresponsible of me. I climb into the driver’s seat, and dig my phone out. I roll my eyes at how girly I’m being because I’m never like this.
I wouldn’t let you … and nope, I’m still @ work.
Lol good, I’m not very good at it anyways … oh, then why did your day get better?
I start my car and throw my phone into the passenger seat so I can head back to my dorm. I’m looking like a retard sitting in front of a Laundromat texting some guy I met last night. Oh, what am I doing?
I’m half-way back to the dorms when I hear my phone go off. I accelerate a little more and resist the urge to pick up the phone. It’s killing me to know what he said.
Finally, the longest five minutes of my life are over and I’m parked in my usual spot in front of my dorm. I hurry and get my phone and open up my new text message:
I bet you’re good at everything … and because u texted me, silly.
Oh, my gosh! Really? I’m going to be waiting for something to be wrong with this man. A part of me hopes it’s not too long so I don’t get in too deep.
You don’t know me very well … I don’t know why me texting is anything special.
I send it, taking a deep breath and facing the reality of things. There has to be a reason why he’s texting me, or why he asked me to eat with him last night. There is no way that he really has an interest in me, especially after everything that I told him last night. Why would you want to get to know someone so messed up inside, and not even that great on the outside? It doesn’t make sense to me. On top of being gorgeous, he can have any woman he wants. Why does he want me?
I make my way back up to my room, without a confrontation from one of the frat boys this time, thank goodness! Lauren is still not back. I guess I’ll put my clothes away and find something to eat for lunch since its almost one now.
Hearing my phone, I trudge over to my nightstand where my phone is sitting:
Don’t do that, Kara!
Um, okay, that’s so not what I expected him to say. He sounds mad, but it’s a text and it’s hard to tell so I reluctantly text back”
Okay.
Grabbing a bag of goldfish and a bottle of water from our mini-fridge, I go sit on my bed and pull out my description of my new internship. I’m hoping that the more I read it, the more it will help me. I don’t get too far into the rules of attire before my phone beeps again. I should just ignore it. That’s what I will do and maybe we can put this whole charade behind us. I turn the page to scan over what’s expected of me as an assistant to Mrs. Paula Martin. She is what I could only hope to be one day. She has a Ph.D. in Psychology, and has helped keep so many young girls from destruction.
There goes my phone again. I reach to grab it, and spill my bag of goldfish all over my comforter and knock my bottle of water to the floor. As I watch it role to the other side of the room, I think that if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.
While picking up the spilled goldfish, I slid my finger across the screen. Seeing I have two new texts, I forget the goldfish:
I’m sorry, Kara.
That’s all the first one said. Sorry for what? The second one says:
It is just you saying stuff like that irritates me, but I still shouldn’t have told you what to do … please forgive me.
He’s thinking way too much into this. I simply type back:
It’s fine, I’m sorry, too.
I finish cleaning up my mess. Throwing my work papers aside, I lay back on my bed and stare up at my old tiled ceiling with stains in the corners from God-knows-what. I realize that I’m more tired than I thought. My eyes won’t stay open anymore.
I awake to Paramore blaring from my phone. Shit, I fell asleep. Wait, who could be calling me, and what freaking time is it? It takes me a minute to answer. “Um … hello?” I say, groggily.
“Kara?” A rough, worried voice comes through the phone. “Are you okay?”
Confused, I say, “Um … yes. Who is this?”
He chuckles and says, “Did I wake sleeping beauty up?”
“I don’t know about the beauty part, but I was sleeping … mmhmm,” I say, as I lay back on my bed. I’m assuming that it is Drew since no one else ever calls me, and I’m pretty sure I could never forget that voice.
An exasperated sigh comes through the phone, and I ask, “What?”
“Oh, nothing … I thought we talked about this already today.” Yup, it’s definitely Drew.
“Oh, yeah, um … I forgot?” I say, hoping he falls for it.
“Mmhmm …” There was a pause. “I just got off work and was, um … wondering if you wanted to go eat dinner with me?”
Dinner? I look over to my alarm clock. Shit, it is after four. “Oh, um … what time do you … I was sleeping so I’m not … I don’t know if I would have time to get ready,” I finally manage to spit out.
“That is fine. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy. I would just like to take you out to dinner and enjoy your company.”
Oh, why does he have to talk so smooth? I don’t know if I can say no to that. I feel like I will wake up from a dream, and that last night and today never happened. However, that little voice in my head is telling me that it did happen and that I need to be careful. Feeling this way over someone you just met can never be a good sign. I’m sure he does this with different girls every weekend. Seriously, someone that looks like him is just …
“You still there, Kara?” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Huh? Yeah … sorry.” He probably thinks I’m a weirdo.
“So, would you like to have to dinner with me?” he asks again.
I can feel a huge grin my face, “Yes!” I said, with more enthusiasm than I should have. I hope I’m making the right choice.
He says that he will waiting outside my building at five thirty. I shouldn’t be nervous, right? I went out with him last night and it was no big deal. Well, except for the fact that I told him the horror that is my life. That makes me wonder why he’s so interested in me. I don’t understand it. Maybe he thinks of it as a challenge? I don’t know, but I only have about thirty minutes to get ready. I’m going to have to hurry or I’ll look like crap.
I take a ten minute shower, and scrunch my hair because it is easier and faster that way. Because I never stay out late, I had to try to hide the dark circles under my eyes. It doesn’t look too bad so I apply some mascara and eye liner. Finally, when I’m half-way satisfied with my face and hair, I really start to panic because I don’t know what I’m going to wear or where we are going! I pull out some faded jean shorts and throw on a shimmer white tank with a black see through lace shirt over it. This will do. I don’t understand why girls spend so much time on their clothes, hair, and make-up. It hasn’t make a difference to me since …
“I’m not going to think about that tonight!” I tell myself in the mirror. I’m going to have a good time. I am just a normal college girl. Yeah, right … I’m a freak.
I throw on some flip flops, grab my purse, and head out the door. I make my way outside and look around for his car. He’s not here yet so I check my phone. He still has a couple minutes. I lean up against the brick wall to check the text messages he sent me while I was sleeping. I was leaning against my building to wait for him when someone stops in front of me. I look up and see that it’s the jerk from earlier. Great. I look back down at my phone and ignore him, hoping he’d get the hint. I couldn’t get that lucky.
“Hey, you.” he says, as he leans in and puts one hand on the brick wall. He is way too close for my comfort, I try to stay calm because getting upset will just make matters worse. I’m not about to let this loser ruin my night. “Your ass looks sexier in these short then the other ones.” He moves his hand to refer to my shorts, as he’s talking.
I try to move to my right to get away from him and say, “Thanks, but please leave me alone.”
I’m still looking down, as he goes to move his hand down the wall and get closer to where I am. Suddenly, I see someone else has walked up, and I hear the familiar voice say, “I believe she said to leave her alone.”
I look up to see Drew with his hand on the jerks shoulder, pushing him away from me. When the jerk goes to push him back, I make the decision to jump between them so we could leave. The jerk pushes me instead, and I fall into Drew’s arms. I feel so safe there, it’s indescribable. All too soon, he moves me to the side. He looks at me, “Are you okay?”
Before I can answer, he is already heading back towards jerk guy, while making sure I’m always behind him. Having him defending me makes me feel something inside that I’ve never felt before … comfort, or maybe safe.
I snap out of my trance when I hear yelling. I look up to see Drew in the jerks face, a fist full of his shirt, and the jerk up against the wall. Crap, I don’t want campus police to come.
I go up to his side and put my hand on his shoulder. “Drew,” I say quietly because I’m distracted by the feel of his tight muscles under his shirt. I wonder what he would look like without this shirt on. I look up and see him looking at me. “It is fine. Can we just go?” I say in a small voice.
“Kara, this guy just put his hands on you,” he said, more calmly than he looks. We just stand there, staring into each other’s eyes. All the while, jerk guy is professing his undying apologies to me and Drew.
Drew looks back at the guy and says, “You’re lucky today, but if I ever see you near her again, you won’t be so lucky. Got it?!” I jump, as he says the last part with “that voice”. The words weren’t even directed towards me, but they were eerie enough to make me jump … they made the jerk agree a thousand times.
He lets him go and the guy practically sprints away. Drew turns to me and places a finger under my chin lifting my face to his. “Ready?” I just nod.
We make our way to his car, he opens the door, and I climb in. Smelling that familiar, comforting scent from last night, I place my purse on the floor and set my hands in my lap. He climbs in, but doesn’t start the car. I look up at him. He is just staring out the window. I look to see what he is looking at, but I don’t see anything that would have gotten his attention.
In the happiest voice I can muster, I say, “So where are we going? I wasn’t sure how to dress so …” I trail off because I get the feeling that he isn’t hearing me. I look down at my wringing hands and wait for him to speak, or start the car, something.
He suddenly grabbed my hands, making me jump and stop my nervous habit … I didn’t even realize I was doing it. His hands are masculine, but soft. I wonder what they would feel like all over me. Whoah! Where is this coming from? I have never been like this with a guy.
He tilts my head up to meet his eyes, then slides his hand to the side of my face. We just sit here in silence. “You’re scared of me,” he says, more of a statement than a question so I don’t answer. Am I scared of him? I don’t think so because I feel safe when he is here. Why would he think that?
“Why would you say that?” I ask.
“You’re jumpy if I try to touch you, and I didn’t miss your flinch when I spoke to him.”
Maybe I did jump or flinch, but that is just how I am. It has nothing to do with him. I don’t want him thinking that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … it’s not you … I’m not scared of you.”
He stares at me with a look of aggravation. I see his jaw tense, and he closes his eyes while taking a deep breath. Is he mad at me? I don’t understand so I just sit quietly. This is not how I envisioned tonight going.
“Don’t say you’re sorry … for anything, Kara. Okay, I believe you, but …” He trails off as he turns in his seat, breaking any contact he has with me and making me instantly sad.
I look at him, and his eyes closed, “We don’t have to go out tonight if you don’t want … rain-check?” I say, trying to sound optimistic. I fail miserably.
He doesn’t say anything. “It will be okay. I’ll go so yo
u can go … cool off,” I say. I reach for my purse and the door handle at the same time. As soon as my hand touches the strap on my purse, he grabs my wrist. I manage not to jump, but I still freeze. I stare at his fingers wrapped completely around my tiny wrist.
“I felt that. Please, don’t go.” His hand comes up to cup my face, making me look into his pleading eyes. “Please forgive me. When he pushed you, I lost it. I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt. That’s why it’s killing me to know that you’re scared of me. I will never hurt you, I can promise you that … physically or any other way. You are special. I would really like for you to accompany me tonight, if you would still like.”
I’m in awe at this man. He is so honest. I could only wish to have said half of that as smoothly as he did. I know he defended me, but he needs to realize that he’s not here all the time so he cannot always save me. Where would he get the idea that I would ever think he would hurt me, and why does it bother him so much? My poor scattered brain is trying to process everything. This is why I haven’t gotten involved with anyone; it’s just too complicated. I just wish I did not have the feeling of wanting to be involved with him. Wait, did I really just say I wanted to be involved with someone? What is happening to me?
He has a smirk on his face now. I pull my eyebrows together. “What?”
He tries to straighten his face. “Nothing. You just looked to be lost in really deep thought.”
“Okay … so why were you laughing at me?” That’s when my stomach decides to growl; how embarrassing. Then I realize that I haven’t really eaten today because I’ve been way too distracted.
