by B. E. Laine
“It was my pleasure. Thank-you for coming with me,” he responds, as politely as possible. I can definitely understand why some people can take one look at him and think that he’s just some bad boy with tattoos, but he proves that judging a book by its cover can lead to you missing out on a great book. In my case, I would have missed out on a wonderful person, I am glad I took a chance.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later?” I say, more as a question than statement.
“You will see me later; if you want to, of course.”
I give him a knowing look. “Yes, I do, but that depends if you want to see me, of course,” I throw back at him.
Smiling, he says, “Well, yeah, have you seen you lately?”
“Hmmp … yep,” I reply with an eye roll.
“Don’t, Karaline. You are beautiful,” he starts with a stern voice, then it turns into what sounds like adoration.
“Thanks,” I say. I’m amazed at how flushed he can make me with simple words like that. I wonder what else he could do if he … You’re getting ahead of yourself, Karaline!
He reaches over and takes my face in his hands. I can feel the warmth throughout my whole body with that simple touch. He caresses my face, pushing a strand of hair off my forehead, and leans in slowly. He’s making sure I know what he’s doing; he is always thinking of me. I tilt my chin up to let him know that I want it, too. Then he takes my mouth with a soft tender kiss. The heat from his lips is scorching mine, but it feels nice. He slides his tongue across my bottom lip, and I oblige by opening my mouth to taste him. He tastes so wonderful that I can’t get enough of him, and he acts like he can’t, either. I feel like a teenager again, kissing in the car before going inside.
A giggle escapes, and he leans back slightly. There’s a questioning look on his face. “What?”
“Huh? Nothing,” I reply, as innocent as possible. Our first make out session and I have to ruin it by laughing at the random thoughts going through my mind. Great.
“Tell me what’s so funny,” he asks, genuinely wanting to know.
“I was just thinking that I feel like a teenager making out in a car before I have to go inside.” I say.
He laughs. “Yeah, I guess it does kind of feel like we’re teenagers, but it won’t always be like this.”
I stare back at him. What did he mean by that? He didn’t share anything else on the subject. He kissed me again, before I finally got out of his car. I could tell that neither one of us wanted to leave, but it was getting late so I walk back to my dorm room.
I walk in to the familiar smell that has been my home for the past three years. One more semester, a half-year, and I won’t know what to do with myself when I don’t have the comfort of this room to come back to. Then, it all of a sudden hits me … Monday is the start of my last year! I am excited but nervous because no one knows what the future holds. That’s when Drew’s words come back to me: You have your whole future. I take a deep breath, sit on my bed and think that in six short months, I will have accomplished a dream that I have had for almost eight years.
I was happy with just getting out of that town. Now that I have come this far, there is no stopping me now. I do have my whole life ahead of me. Nothing from my past can keep me from living my life to the fullest. Maybe I have Drew to thank for my new found positive attitude. Even if things don’t work out between us, I will always be grateful for all the words of encouragement he has given me. In just the two days I have known him, he’s given me the little push I needed to get out of this rut I have been in for years. I guess I should thank Lauren, too.
Speaking of that little tramp, I still haven’t chewed on her out and, of course, she is sound asleep under her comforter. I guess that’s what I get for coming in so late, but sleeping looks like a good idea. This staying up late is for the birds, but the company I have been with has made it more than worth it.
I defiantly feel like a teenager again. On Sunday, while he was at the gym working with the kids, he’d text me when he got the chance. That night, we talked on the phone for hours. I really felt like I was on cloud nine when we finally hung up.
We talked and texted about everything under the sun. His favorite food is Chinese and he likes action movies, but swore that he would sit through anything I picked out. I thanked him for the challenge. I told him that I’m going to find the most girly girl movie I can find. There are some of them that I can’t stand, but that will be my little secret.
When he said that he wished he had a sibling, I corrected him and told him about my little sister, and said he’s better off being an only child. He just laughed at me and started asking questions about my mom. I told him about how we were before my dad had skipped town with his new piece of ass that obviously meant more to him than his whole family. He told me that he did not know which is worse … a dad there until a certain point in your life and then splitting, or one that was never there. I said that it was the latter because I will cherish the memories of my happy childhood. Just not the aftermath.
He also got me to agree to let him take me out for my birthday. It is not like that day could get any worse, but I’m positive that just being with Drew will make that day better, no matter what we do. He said we could go anywhere I wanted; it was my choice.
I told him all about my new internship and how I had class in the morning, then work in the afternoon. He was familiar with where I would be working because some of the kids at the gym go there. I also told him about how I wanted to take my career as far as I could possibly go. He told me that I deserved it and, for once, I actually believed it when someone said that.
I also got to talk to Ms. Lauren about her saying that she knew him. She admitted right off the bat that she did not know him, but she had a good feeling. That’s when I about flipped out on her, and told her that he could have been some freak out to kidnap some drunk girl at the bar. That’s when she said, “But he didn’t. You’re still here so I obviously had the right feeling about him.” I threw up my hands in exasperation and told her that it was only because I liked her, and he did turn out to be a really nice guy, that I would forgive her.
Monday morning rolled around and, I have to admit, it was a bittersweet moment. I was sitting in my first class of the day when it hit me that this was the first day of class of my last year of college. Then it’s into the real world. I’m not so sure about that part but, hopefully, it will not be too bad. I’ll get a glimpse of my future this afternoon when I go to at my first day of my internship.
Thankfully, I only have two classes between eight and eleven in the morning, then a two hour lunch, then on to my internship from one until five. So maybe this year won’t be too bad. All the long hours of classes is paying off because I only have two left this semester. That gives me a half-year to get experience working in my field.
I am only half-way through the day and it’s been a good one. He texted me all morning, and even though I could only text him back during my breaks, he didn’t seem to mind. Now I am sitting here at the small café I used to work at eating lunch, waiting to start my internship. I’m really just sitting here texting Drew like I’m in high school. How pathetic am I? I told him I could let him go so he could get some work done, but he insisted that it was fine. However, I told him that it’s almost time for me to leave in case there is traffic. I do not want to be late on my first day. Maybe I am a little too excited about it.
Seeming how I have never been this close to the city in the three years I have lived here, I was surprised that I did not get lost. When I pull into the parking lot and take in my surroundings, the building is a lot bigger than I thought it would be and nicely landscaped. The buildings across the street, however, had seen better days. As I make my way to the front door, I silently hope this isn’t as bad a neighborhood has it looks. I push all that aside as I walk inside the doors and am greeted by a bubbly receptionist with a black bobbed haircut. She is gorgeous, her make-up and hair done perfectly, which leaves me feeling a little sel
f-conscious.
“I’m here to assist Paula Martin,” I tell her and she picks up the phone.
I look around at the typical waiting room set up. It had those awful fake trees and the magazines that are at least two-years-old. Though, the chairs looked nice and the place was clean.
The clinking of heels on tile brought my attention to the woman walking towards me that I assumed was Paula. I had not met her yet because I owed all of this to my psychology teacher that has helped and guided me throughout my three years at Tulsa. He is really good friends with Mrs. Martin and, in fact, I do believe he has a little crush on her. Once I saw her, I could see why.
She is wearing an off-white blouse which accentuates what she has going on up top. It goes with her tiny waist and perfect hips in that black pencil skirt she’s wearing. Everything fit her like a glove. Crap, I hope I’m dressed okay. I look down at my black slacks, paired with an old silk dressy shirt with weird designs on it that I have had forever. I believe I stole it from my old best friend back in my home town, well old best friend I guess.
I come back to reality when I notice the woman standing in front of me is extending her hand. Shit! I quickly introduce myself and she tells me to follow her. We make our way through a door and, at the end of the hallway, she leads me into an office that I presume is hers. It’s a pretty common office with everything you would expect. I take a seat, fiddling with the straps on my purse. I have no clue why I’m nervous, but I am. Mr. Mackey said I already had the internship. Maybe it’s my insecurities, as Drew would say it. Oh, I can’t start thinking about him here. I have to stay focused.
“Well Ms. Brooks, you came highly recommended from Mr. Mackey and I have to say that, by looking at your schooling, I can see why he did. You will graduate a semester ahead of when you are supposed to, your grades and extra credits are outstanding for someone as young as you.”
I sat there quietly, just smiling and nodding when she would look up from her papers on her desk. I didn’t know what to say, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to elaborate on why I worked my ass off when I got to college. Everyone has their own story, and I would prefer to keep mine to myself. He was the one exception. Stay focused!
“I worked hard, but I still have a little ways to go before I will be happy with what I want to accomplish,” I tell her, smiling.
I am actually a little proud of myself for what I have been able to accomplish in the small amount of time that I’ve had. Still, if it’s up to me, I am nowhere near finished. I will only have my bachelors when I graduate, and I’d like to go for my masters. Of course, that’s depending on how this internship goes and if they decide to hire me, or if I find another good paying job to pay for more schooling.
She asks me what I would like to accomplish. I tell her that if everything goes well with this internship, I’d like to have a steady income coming in because my student grants are gone and loans will be piling up. I also told her about how I plan on working full-time by next year, and going to school for my masters at night. She seemed impressed, and I hope that it shows her that I am more than willing to work my ass off here to help me in the future.
“Well, it seems that Mr. Mackey chose a good person for this job.” She stands and motions me to follow.
We walk back into the hallway. To the left, there’s a room full of filing cabinets, a printer, and a small desk. She turns, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry we don’t have an actual office for you, but I hope this will work.”
“Oh, yes, this is fine. Thank-you,” I reply, smiling.
It really wasn’t that bad and was about the same size as her office. It looked like they have been using it for storage until now. “Okay, well,” she says, as she walks further into the storage room/office. “You will be dealing with the filing of the client’s papers and the billing for their appointments.” I nod at her as she continues. “You will also go get the clients from the waiting room and bring them to me. I might ask you to sit in with me sometimes, with their permission, so you can get a feel for how things work.” That last part made me smile. This will be the best last semester ever.
The rest of the day was filing paperwork. For the most part it was organized, but not all of it, and the incoming new clients just added more. The day went by fairly quickly, considering it was my first day. I didn’t even know it was time to leave until Paula poked her head in the door and asked if I was going to work all night. When I checked the clock, I could not believe that it was already after five. So I gathered my things, thanked her for the opportunity, and told her that I would be seeing her tomorrow at one.
As I make my way to my car, I drag out my phone to see if he’s texted. He has! The butterflies come just by seeing his name. I wait to read it until I get to my car so I have the privacy of the text all to myself.
The first one was a text to what we were texting about at lunch that I didn’t get a chance to respond to:
I’ll make sure that your b-day is amazing this year …
I can feel a goofy grin on my face, but my mind starts wondering about what he’s planning. He knows THAT happened on my birthday, but I’m almost positive that it won’t even cross my mind when I’m with him.
I hope your first day at work is going good … I’m thinking about you. I was wondering if the lovely Ms. Brooks had plans this evening.
I think I texted him back as fast as I have ever texted anyone in my life. Even through a text, he can make me feel things I only thought I felt in the past.
I actually can’t wait until my b-day now! And I had a great first day! I hope your day was good! And no, Mr. Evans, I do not have plans … what do u have planned?
I take a deep breath, put my phone aside, start my car, and realize that I’m the only one left in the parking lot. Yeah, I’m a loser. I manage to make it back to the dorms without getting lost. This may not be so bad after all. I make my way to my dorm room, without any confrontations this time. Lauren’s in the room, and it looked like she robbed a clothing store.
“Hey, Lauren. How’d your first day of classes go?” I say, eyeing her purchases.
I practically fall on my bed, my things falling to the floor. I lean on my side and watch her go through mounds of clothes. She doesn’t even turn to me when she says, “Is that what you wore today?”
I glance down at my clothes. I didn’t think they were that bad. Pulling my eyebrows together, I say, “Uh … yeah, why?” I reply, unsure of where she is going with this.
“Well, I went shopping today and I have all these other clothes I don’t know what to do with …” she said, trailing off.
“Oh,” I say, flatly.
I wish I had that problem. It took me a while to save up money from working at the coffee shop to be able to buy clothes because I had to make sure I had money for gas and food. I’m grateful that I have grants and a small scholarship that helped me so I could save some of my money. Since I knew I had to quit the coffee shop last week, I had saved the last two checks for gas and food. I don’t know when I will get paid for my internship so I don’t think I should go buy a new wardrobe for work; I have to be responsible. I don’t have anyone to fall back on if I come up short.
“Yep! So I was hoping that you could take a few off of my hands …”
I think she is being subtle about asking me if I want some of her old clothes, but I don’t want her to give them to me because she feels sorry for me. I hate that. “Oh, um … it’s fine. I don’t need any clothes,” I say because I don’t know what else to say.
With her hands on her hips, she turns and glares at me. “You need some work clothes, and a girl can never have too many clothes, in general. Plus, I just went shopping with the allowance that daddy gives me for school clothes every semester.” She manages to say that all in one breath.
I hold my hands up. “Okay, okay! Pick out what outfits you don’t want anymore,” I say to lift her spirits a little bit, but I quickly regret it.
She starts freaking out, wanting me
to see if this and that fit. “Ooo, I think this would look awesome on you!”
I feel like her own personal dress-up doll. When it was all said and done, I had five new work outfits and three new “club outfits”. Even though I told her I doubt I would be going to the club anytime soon, she still insisted. She also swore that I had to have these jeans and those shirts so now I have no room in my closet.
I’m standing in front of her massive mirror, looking at one of the shirts she gave me. Maybe I can wear this tonight when I see Drew. It’s a one shoulder simple shirt, but it’s a little tight and I can see the pudge poking out in the front. Maybe, since it is dark navy blue, he won’t notice. Just as I turn so I can see my butt in these shorter than short khaki shorts she gave me, I hear my phone ding.
I’m glad you had a good day, sweetie. Mine was good until now … look, I’m sorry, but I have to stay late tonight so …
Feeling, bummed I text back:
Oh, I’m sorry, but it’s okay … just text me later.
I didn’t realize how much I was looking forward to just seeing him tonight until I read that text. Guess that means I can change into So-Fe shorts and a t-shirt, and just relax. However, Lauren walks back into the room saying how “hot” I look and that we have to go out tonight.
“On a Monday night?” I say, hoping she takes the hint that I am not too keen on going out.
“Oh, not clubbing. Just go to the coffee shop and hang out with people from school,” she says like it was obvious.
I wanted to say, sorry to break it to you, Lauren, but I haven’t just ‘hung’ with anyone from this school. I remember when I worked at the coffee shop, and she would come in with some of her friends. From what I remember, they weren’t that bad, but I’m still not so sure about it. The club was a totally different thing. I don’t really like talking to people I don’t know or in front of a crowd. God, I hope there isn’t a bunch of people.
