by Sara Hess
“So you work here and at the restaurant.” I knew she wasn’t at that restaurant any longer because I’d gone back merely to make sure she’d received the tip I’d left, but they’d said she no longer worked there. The manager I’d spoken to had been the same sour faced lady the night Carrie had to leave abruptly.
I never told the guys that I’d gone back. I wasn’t really sure why I had.
An uncomfortable expression crossed her face, but she attempted to wave it off with a smile. It was another one of those fake smiles that didn’t come close to her real ones. “That wasn’t working out so well. So, is there really something you need help with because if it’s a question about brands or ‘is this better than that’ then I don’t think I’ll be much help yet?” She gave me a self-depreciating smile.
Another smile I didn’t like. “No, actually, I thought I’d recognized your voice and I had to make sure I wasn’t imaging it.”
“Really.” She wore a surprised look; like it was inconceivable that someone might want to see her.
“Yeah, we were all really disappointed that you had to leave early that night. Did you get the tip we left? I specifically stated that you were to receive it. If you didn’t I’m going back to that place and cracking some skulls together.” I smiled menacingly and cracked my knuckles for effect.
She smiled crookedly…a real one this time…and lifted her hands. “Whoa, holster those fists of fury. Yes, I received your tip. One hundred dollars was way too much…” She shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy… “But as it’s already gone I can’t protest too much.”
That crooked grin she gave me almost had me hauling her into my arms and devouring her whole. I was able to control it, but it was close. Damn, this girl affected me.
I shook out my hands. “That was close. I would have hated to subject you to the site of all that blood and gore.”
Carrie’s face went absolutely white. Holy shit!
“Are you okay?” Surprisingly, my first thought was to hold her, comfort her, but when I touched her arm she flinched away. I dropped my hand not wanting to cause her any further distress. She breathed in and then out, and it looked like something she practiced regularly because it was sort of a measured. She met my gaze and hers was haunted but focused, a synthetic smile spread her mouth.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. I had a bad feeling there for a second.” She responded properly in a husky voice.
I didn’t like her formality, and I was pretty sure the bad feeling she got was from the words blood and gore. It had me wondering what had happened in this girl’s past that put such a haunted look in her eyes.
“Man, I am such an ass.” I exclaimed dramatically. Her eyes went wide at my pitch or maybe the word ‘ass’; either way it accomplished what I wanted, surprising the haunted look right out of her eyes. Why I cared, I wasn’t sure? “We’ve been having a whole conversation here and I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Nic Stanford.” I held out my hand.
She looked down at my hand and then back up at me. Those ice blue eyes of hers contained trepidation, and I held my breath waiting for her touch. It was only a hand shake, but for some reason it felt like so much more.
Her hand came up and slipped into mine; it was soft, and delicate, and I experienced further uncomfortable swelling…thankfully the arm guard was still in guard mode. Beside the corporeal sensations I also felt her touch touch something deep inside of me. Confusion clouded her eyes and her hand trembled in mine making me wonder if she was feeling something similar.
“Nice to meet you, Nic. My name is Carrie.” She said softly. Releasing my hand she clasped her sweater and pulled the sides across her body hugging herself.
I noted that she didn’t give me her full name, but beyond that I realized that she didn’t know who I was. I thought everyone in the school knew who I was, or at least recognized my last name. It wasn’t like I went around bragging about who I was, but being one of the top athletes at the school with the name Stanford made it difficult not to be recognized.
“And are you a student here at UVA?” I asked.
Another small crooked smile appeared and the sight of it tightened something in my chest. “Yes, I do.”
“Well I guess that answers the question about whether you’re old enough to serve alcohol.” I said with a satisfied smirk.
She lifted the eyebrow with the mole. God, that was hot. “Are you sure about that? Maybe I’ve excelled academically and I’ve skipped one or two grades.” She looked at me innocently.
“You’re cruel, so cruel.” I said mournfully though loving her comeback.
“I get that a lot.” There was a somber note to her tone that bothered me.
“Well, you must hear this a lot too; you’re very beautiful and sweet, and I’m glad our paths crossed, again.” I was becoming such a shmuck; ‘I’m glad our paths crossed again’. I’d wanted to say something entirely different, and inappropriate, but I knew she wasn’t the type of girl that went for that kind of ‘get to know you’ discourse.
Her face went completely red with embarrassment, spreading down her neck. Yep…if she went red faced over a small compliment than my other lines would have her fainting…or running.
“Uhm…thank you, I am too. I know guys hate to hear this…” She paused dramatically and I actually held my breath in anticipation for what she was going to say. Was it going to be something naughty? No, she said I wouldn’t like what she said, and I would definitely like her to say something naughty.
She smiled playfully. “But you’re sweet too.”
I groaned, slapping my hand to my forehead. “No, no, no; that is the kiss of death. It’s a lie and I’ll totally deny it if you tell anyone.” I lowered my hand. “What am I worried for; there is no way anyone would believe that about me.”
“I don’t know; when I start embellishing about kittens and puppy dogs you’ll start to look sweeter than candy.” Carrie’s face was still pink as she ribbed me. It was like she wasn’t used to bantering with others too often.
“You are so bad.” I said with a smile. It was hard to believe that I was enjoying this entirely innocent interaction.
“And don’t you forget it.” She grinned back.
The front door made its ding-dong jingle. She looked reflexively in that direction and I stared longingly at her smooth neck. She turned back to me.
“We’ve been standing here chatting forever; I should get back to work. Don’t want them to think I’m laying down on the job.”
Crap! I looked up at the clock on the wall. 9:48. “Shit!” Carrie looked at me in surprise. Of course I used the nice profanity in my head and yelled the crass one out loud. For some reason I didn’t wanted to use my prolific assortment of curse words around her.
“I’ve got practice in twelve minutes, I’m so going to get an a…” I just caught myself from saying ass, “butt reaming for being late.”
Dismay covered her face. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been keeping you talking. Do you need this stuff for practice? I know athletes get free equipment so go ahead and take it and we can settle up later after your practice. I trust you.”
I froze for a second at the thought that she would let me walk out of here with merchandise without really knowing me; that she trusted me to come back. She wasn’t doing it to suck up to me either. She was just being nice and taking a hell of a chance. I wasn’t going to let her risk that even though I would totally be back. I pulled out my school ID and ripped the tag off the guard handing them to her along with the shaft.
“All I need is the arm guard.” I high-tailed it toward the door.
“What about your ID?” She called after me.
“I’ll be back for it.” I yelled, running out the door. I was definitely going to be late, but it was so worth it.
Chapter Four
CARRIE
I watched Nic run out the door in a full sprint. There was a large glass window encasing the front of the s
tore and I could see him running to his truck, a really nice, new looking truck. He jumped in and peeled out of the parking lot.
The door jingled again and a girl rushed out. That must have been the person who’d come in just a minute ago. She was really pretty with long blond hair, dressed in skinny jeans, and an expensive light tan suede jacket. She hopped into a black Mercedes ‘something or other’ and drove off in the same direction.
Had she come into the store just to see Nic; recognized his truck in the parking lot and stopped to see him, talk to him? He ran out of here so fast he most likely hadn’t seen her. They would look really good together, both of them being really attractive and blonde…and rich.
I felt a twinge in my chest at the thought of her being a possible girlfriend, and then frowned at the twinge. Huh, what had that been for? Was I envious if her?
I couldn’t help comparing the blonde girl’s outfit to mine. I looked down at my second hand clothes. I never cared too much about what I wore as long as it covered me up and kept me warm. My plans for the future didn’t consist of remaining broke all the time and I looked forward to that time, but I was getting along okay at this point. In fact, I considered myself extremely lucky with the scholarship I’d received.
Unconsciously I twirled the stick Nic and shoved in my hand. What the heck was this? I walked over to where he’d been standing and noticed an array of them. Lacrosse Shafts. Huh, Lacrosse? The only thing I knew about that sport was that they had sticks with pocket things on the end that they caught and threw balls with, and that they had a goal like in soccer. Examining the equipment I perceived that they picked their choice of shaft and attached the lacrosse head to it.
I walked back to the counter and logged the arm guard into the lacrosse account under Nic’s name. Hunting down an envelope I put his ID in it and printed his name on the front. If I wasn’t here when he came back another employee could give it to him. My shift was seven-thirty to one-thirty; I wasn’t sure what his practice time went to.
“Carrie, how’s it going out here?” John Sands asked stepping in from the back storage room. John was the manager of the store; middle aged, in really good shape with brown hair and brown eyes. He had a wife and three kids. I’d seen the pictures on the wall in his office. He was really nice and I actually felt comfortable in his presence. I appreciated that fact about him because there weren’t too many people I felt comfortable around.
Nic’s face flashed in my head…I felt comfortable in his presence too.
I gave John a half smile. “It’s been slow; though I did have one customer. He was a lacrosse player and in a rush. He gave me his school ID before racing out of here. I logged in his equipment and put his ID in this envelope for when he comes back.” I handed the envelope to him. John could be in charge of it. He was the manager so he would want to know about it.
His brows rose at the name on the front. “Nic Stanford; our best player on the lacrosse team. Voted MVP two years consecutively. Team Captain. Expected to take us to the championships again for the third year running. Good character.”
I raised my eyes at his ramble. “I’m impressed; in him and you. You said that like you were reading the back of a player’s sports card.”
“Have to know this stuff as the manager of the Sport shop.” He said gravely. “I know all the important players on all the teams at this university. Know some of the lesser players as well, but there’s too many to remember them all.”
“Tell me that isn’t something I have to know.” The thought gave me a headache.
He grinned at my horrified expression. “No, that falls on just my shoulders. But you still need to read up on each of the sports and familiarize yourself with all the equipment.” He walked over to the back counter and pinned the envelope I gave him to the cork board.
“Hey, I just learned something today. Lacrosse has different types of shafts and you fit a head on it, and they require arm guards.” I stated proudly. “I have to say I’ve been studying the most familiar sports I know like baseball and football, hadn’t gotten to lacrosse yet.”
He grinned and there was affection in it I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. Parental affection. My heart clenched in loss and I looked down fiddling with some papers on the counter in case my face displayed my pain.
“I know it won’t take you long to get them all down pat. Have to be smart to get an academic scholarship here. Professor Gale gave me one of the longest positive references I’ve ever received on behalf of a prospective employee.” John said.
I felt my cheeks heat at the praise, in both discomfort and pleasure. Professor Stephanie Gale was one of my course Professors, but I was also one of her part-time TA’s. “I’m just glad you gave me a chance. I know I don’t have a lot of experience under my belt.”
“You’re young, won’t hold that against you.” He grunted, shuffling some paperwork on the counter in front of him.
Looks like both of us were getting uncomfortable at the mush fest.
The door jingled saving us.
“Should start picking up now that’s its closer to the afternoon; everyone waking up from their late night of drinking.” The amusement on his face said loud and clear he remembered those days well…and with fondness.
I grinned and shook my head. So far I liked this job way better than the waitressing gig. The girls at the restaurant had been kind of catty, and running around on your feet for hours was really tiring. Also, it was a crapshoot what kind of patrons you’d get stuck with. At least with this job you only had to deal with them for a couple minutes rather than being stuck with them for an hour, and I didn’t have to worry about getting jipped on a tip at the end of it all. I was actually making a little more here on the average than I had at the restaurant. John had also implied that if I stayed on that there would be opportunities for raises and advancements in the future, and he was way more lenient concerning scheduling since it was a campus job, and he said I could get overtime. It would be a good place for me to stay for three or four years while at school.
I stayed busy for the rest of my shift. It seemed when everyone woke up the ‘thing’ was to go shopping. We got a variety of customers from; athletes, to students, to adults supporting their favorite teams. There were a lot of freshmen buying cloths with the schools insignia, especially girls. They’d come in giggling packs gossiping about their favorite players, and I was surprised to hear Nic’s name mentioned several times. It seemed he was very popular. After hearing his name a third time I noted I was getting that same twinge in my chest each time his name was mentioned. It was odd.
It was close to the end of my shift and I was fixing a stack of shirts that some customer had demolished trying to find the right size when a group of girls came in. They strolled my way and began rummage through the fans t-shirt jersey rack. Their conversation floated my way.
“I’m going to get number seven, Nic’s number. God, he is so hot. We got together a few weeks ago and he was the best I’ve ever had, hands down.” She giggled and the rest of her clique joined in.
Got together? Best she ever had? Was she talking about sex?! My heart dropped at the thought. I shifted and took a peek at the girl. She was very beautiful with long light brown hair, perfect make-up, and a nice body. All the girls were pretty and dressed in expensive stylish clothes. My heart did another nose dive.
“Nic’s known to get around. You might get one or two more shots at him but only if you keep it casual. I’ve heard he stays clear of any girls that even think of attaching themselves to him.” Another girl informed her friend.
“Most guys are like that until the right one comes along and shows him what he’s missing. He had a great time with me; the sex was awesome. That guy is an animal, and talk about hung.”
My stomach rolled and my earlier breakfast was attempting to make a serious comeback. I walked away not wanting to hear anymore. I didn’t know if I was getting sick because of the sex talk or because it was concerning Nic. Sex talk usually just
made me uncomfortable, but I’d never become nauseous before.
Sex was like a course of its own at college. Everyone talked about it, examined it, and availed themselves of it. I shuddered reflexively, but got myself under control. Just because I wasn’t all that interested in it didn’t make it wrong for other people to do it. I wasn’t going to allow additional issues to take root in me just because of what happened to me. Sex was a natural part of life and it was normal for people to engage in it.
Unfortunately, what I’d heard made me wonder why Nic was so friendly towards me. Guys hit on me but they were usually more obvious in their attentions; asking me out within minutes with the worst pick-up lines, or acting in a manner that was really inappropriate. A handful had been nice with their attentions but I still wasn’t interested in going out with anyone.
What were Nic’s intentions?
I slapped myself internally; that wasn’t the way to think. Nic had been nothing but polite and sweet, and I wasn’t going to attach possible intentions to his behavior. That was self-destructive. I’d told myself when I started college that I was going to be more open to making friends. I hadn’t made too much progress in that direction yet, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t start. Nic may have not liked being called ‘sweet’ but he definitely had been, and I had to admit he made me smile more than I had in a long time.
I grinned, pleased with my self-reflection. Therapy was paying off. Well, therapy had been paid for by the state so the state got the credit. Actually, I’d have to give the credit to Dr. Mona Mathews. She’d been a God-send. I would have spiraled down into crazy if not for her.
The girls were making their way to the counter. I followed and stepped up to the register.
“All set?” I had to force a pleasant smile.
“Obviously.” The girl that had ‘gotten’ with Nic replied snidely, setting a number seven jersey size small on the counter.
My smile froze in place. ‘Nasty much’.
I rang up the price. “$35.60.” I said pleasantly…I hope. She gave me a credit card. “Can I see your I.D., please?”
