by Alex Riley
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have made you come when you didn’t want to.” Her friend said, looking downcast and dejected.
The words sobered Emily. She realized that she was behaving like a petulant child; she chided herself. While Emily had her back to the PowerBit table, Shannon faced them squarely and she had been casting anxious glances over since Greg joined them about thirty minutes ago. Emily shook her head at her selfishness.
Her best friend, the only friend she had in the whole world was seated right in front of her, worrying her pretty head away over her boyfriend’s departure and all she could do was complain about the dullness at the party. She was the worst friend ever, she thought to herself. What were a few hours at a boring party for a friend? Shannon had done crazier things for her in the time they had known each other.
“No, I am sorry.” She apologized, trying to think of what to do to make it up to her friend. “How about you go join Greg at their table and brazenly introduce yourself as his girlfriend?” she asked impulsively.
Her words surprised both her friend and herself. She was not the type to be so impulsive or daring but she wanted to erase the worried look on her friend’s face. Or perhaps, it was the wine doing the talking.
“Wow!” she declared admiringly. “That is just the best suggestion ever. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Shannon said already standing and grabbing her purse from the table. “Come with?” she asked her.
Even though Emily knew she’d be even more bored on her own, she shook her head. She was a student of Creative Arts and a freelance writer, any talks about science churned her stomach. Conversation at the table with the company would definitely be more boring than sitting here on her own, thank you.
“I will be fine by myself, go on.” She waved her friend off in the direction of the table where Greg sat with three other men, talking animatedly.
“Thanks, G.” Shannon said, blowing her a kiss.
When she was gone, Emily fidgeted with the clasp on her purse for another five minutes, looking around the room for nothing in particular. She turned in her seat to look over at the PowerBit table some ten feet or so away and saw that Shannon was now seated beside Greg and seemed to be enjoying the conversation.
Good for her, she thought.
The bottle of champagne still stood unopened in front of her and she turned her gaze to it, trying to decide if she should just open it and have yet another drink.
She continued to stare at it undecided for another five minutes.
“Now, what is a beautiful thing such as yourself doing here all alone with an unopened bottle in front of you?” A silky male, voice interrupted her thoughts.
Emily did not even hear the compliment; it flew past her like the wind. The first things she noticed were his feet; though it was not so much as his feet as what he wore on his feet. He was wearing a pair of white and blue sneakers and his bare legs went way up to disappear beneath a pair of knee length commando shorts. Emily allowed her gaze to travel all the way up inch by inch as she took in his midnight blue polo shirt. He was tall, she thought absently. The words ‘I am King’ were boldly imprinted on the front of a shirt which flattered his abdominals and chest.
Feeling curious by now, Emily raised her eyes to meet his gaze. They were the most startling brilliant shade of gold and were surrounded by eyebrows that were almost meeting and lashes that were so long they were almost feminine. His hair was a lovely sheen of black that curled over his head like a crown. He was wearing a grin that showed deep dimples on his clean shaven cheeks.
Everyone that Emily had seen during the course of the evening had formal attire, mostly in the red and/or black colors of the college. The guy standing in front of her though looked totally out of place in his casual clothes. But he was smiling at her as if he had no idea that he looked like the duckling in the midst of swans.
“May I have this seat?” he asked, indicating the seat that Shannon just left.
He sat without waiting for her nod of approval.
“You seem to want to open the bottle but can’t pluck up the courage to,” he observed.
She was still staring at him in amazement.
“What are you wearing?” she blurted out without conscious thought. It was the second time that night that she would be blurting out exactly what she was thinking but Emily barely noticed.
He however did not take offence, smiling broadly.
“What is wrong with what I have on?” he asked with a daring smile. He leaned forward and opened the wine, pouring for both of them.
She reached out and grabbed the glass of wine, downing it in two loud gulps. Being friends with Shannon, she was used to having guys come over to their room looking for her friend but this was different. No guy had ever singled her out for his attention before and she didn’t know what to say.
Why not just start by answering his question? A little voice prompted in her head.
Her unwanted company was staring at her in amusement as she set down the empty glass and she promptly forgot the question he had asked.
“You must have been thirsty,” he said, imitating her and throwing the contents of his cup down his throat in one gulp.
She cast down her gaze and her eyes caught the words on his shirt again. She remembered the question he asked her.
“Everyone here is dressed formally, except you,” she spoke out of the blue again. He only stared at her as if she was nuts. “That is what is wrong with what you are wearing,” she explained lamely.
A mischievous smile reaching all the way into his eyes appeared on his lips and he leaned forward across the table to reach her.
“Why is everyone here dressed formal, do you know?” he asked her in a conspiratorial whisper.
She could smell his male cologne and they invaded her senses, drawing her forward. “I don’t know,” she said drunkenly in answer to his question.
“Really?” he whispered comically. “But you are also dressed formally,” he said with a naughty grin.
As if she didn’t quite know what she was getting at, she looked down at herself. She was dressed much like the other ladies in the room in a long, black, silver sequined dress that Shannon had fished out of their wardrobe in the afternoon. The dress was her twentieth birthday gift from her grandmother but Emily had never worn it until tonight. The dress was tight and emphasized her skinny body which she always hid inside jean and shirts, her every day wear.
What Emily didn’t know was that the dress emphasized her baby blues and brought out the colorful highlights in her blonde hair which Shannon had simply braided in a French plait down her back and then twisted into a doughnut at the base of her neck. Her feet were clad in a three-and-a-half-inch pair of silver shoes and her matching silver purse was on the table. Her ensemble was completed by a simple silver chain on her neck having a little, Cinderella slipper as pendant.
When Shannon finished dressing her up, she had stood back to admire her handiwork with a triumphant smile.
“In the three years I have known you, this is the first time I can actually say that there is hope for you yet.” She had said.
Emily looked sheepishly at her companion. He was right again; she was dressed rather formally.
“I guess so,” she said. She sat back in her chair, looking at the odd guy in front of her.
“So, tell me then, why are you dressed this way?” he insisted.
Emily was confused.
“My roommate over there insisted,” she explained, nodding her head in the general direction of the PowerBit table. “And thank heavens that I did too. Everyone else is except you. I guess it is the dress code for the event,” she told him matter-of-factly.
The guy leaned forward more. “Do you have your invitation card with you? I would bet that there is no dress code indicated on it.” He said with a bemused smile.
Her reserve gone now, she picked her purse from the table and opened it to retrieve her invitation card. She turned it this way and that, trying to
see if there was any dress code indicated and saw that indeed, there wasn’t.
“I guess formal is the conventional attire for events such as this.” She shrugged.
“Then why I am in here?” he asked her with obvious flourish.
She was thrown by his question. Indeed, if the dress code was formal, he wouldn’t be allowed entry into the venue at all.
“True,” she muttered. Why was this guy always right?
He was now staring at her as if she was a particularly interesting piece of specimen under a microscope. She reached for the bottle and poured herself another glass.
“I see.” He said with a look she couldn’t define in his eyes.
“What do you see?” she asked him warily.
He was still staring unblinkingly at her.
“You hate this party, don’t you?” he asked her after a prolonged silence of just watching her.
She had no idea what that had got to anything that he saw but she nodded her head.
He grinned.
“So do I.” he informed her. “You came with one of the new graduates, yes?” he asked again.
Again, she nodded her head. It seemed that she had lost the power of speech in the face of his quick grins, questions and the wine.
“Then, I suppose not having one of the mega super-duper rich companies come for you will be quite boring then.” He surmised. “I guess your friend is being wooed by one of the companies right now.”
Her tongue finally gained freedom from its speechlessness.
“Yes, along with his girlfriend who is my best friend.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her throat felt parched and she reached for the glass she just filled.
He raised a full eyebrow at her but did not comment.
“I do not blame you for feeling bored to death. I am one of the new graduates of the school and believe me, I am bored to the hilt. Who needs all this, if he’s truly got the skills and talent?” He asked, sweeping an all-encompassing gaze through the room.
A waiter passed by their table bearing a tray and he suddenly shot up from his seat, snatched a plate of dessert from a waiter and placed it in front of her.
“Aww, pardon my manners,” he said to her, clasping his forehead. “Ryan Jones, a fresh graduate of this grand school and a photographer by hobby.” He introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake.
For a moment, Emily seemed to forget her name as she stared at his outstretched hand. This cute guy was introducing himself to her of all the beautiful ladies seated in the room. At first, she had thought that perhaps he wanted to ask her for something but now he’d been here for over ten minutes.
“Emily Wilson, Junior, same college,” she said shortly, refusing to take his hand though she had no reason not to.
Ryan shrugged as if he was used to this kind of rebuff.
“Great, how come I never came across you in school?” he asked wonderingly.
“The school is quite large. Different campuses too.” She hiccupped.
“True,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have forgotten your face if I had seen you around.” He said.
Emily looked up into his eyes to see that he was totally checking her out. Ryan was looking at her with something akin to appreciation in his eyes as if he liked what he saw. It was the first time any man had looked at her this way and she was at a loss for words. She didn’t know how to react.
She dipped her fingers into the dessert plate. She came up with some cheese and put it in her mouth. Ryan’s gaze followed her actions and he licked his lips as she swallowed.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen,” he whispered. “And sexy lips too,” he said bluntly.
It took her a moment to know that the cute ‘I am King’ Ryan was flirting with her. Her! Emily Wilson. She fumbled about in her head for what to say. If it were Shannon here at the table in that moment, she asked herself, what would she do? Most definitely smile and flirt right back, the answer was undisputable. But she wasn’t her friend even though she would like to be just for the sake of throwing a witty comeback to this handsome guy’s flattery.
“Come on, a guy compliments you and you ignore him?” Ryan said with a teasing grin.
“I never asked for your compliment,” she replied.
She was starting to get used to the grin that was all over his face.
“You are bored with the party, so am I. How about we head out right now?” he asked out of the blue again.
What was wrong with this guy? She thought. He throws out a couple of cheap lines and now expects her to leave with him. She didn’t understand him at all. It was like he was playing a game that only he understood.
“I can’t do that. I barely know you.” She murmured.
He relaxed in his chair to give her that look again and she felt like squirming.
“Yes, I got it - you are the hesitant type, never impulsive, always cautious.” He exclaimed suddenly like he just had a eureka moment. “Tell me, what have you ever done just for the fun of it?” he asked her.
His remark and question was so sudden and perceptive that her gaze instantly flew up to meet his. This guy was more astute than she gave him credit for. He had been studying her personality the entire time and she had been helping him each step of the way!
“As you must have rightly surmised, I am logical and think things through before acting upon them,” she said tartly. It bugged her that she had given away any air of mystery she might have had in the first few minutes of meeting this guy.
“Then, you need to change.” He declared with a firm nod of his head. He reached across the table and held her hands in his. “Emily, life will not wait on you forever. You have to take those chances, live for the moment, hope for nothing, anticipate the best and go to bed each night, rest assured that you have squeezed out everything you can from each unforgiving minute that you are lucky to see.”
Perhaps it was the wine in her head but his words were sinking into her head with resounding echoes.
His words were similar to the mantra that Shannon kept telling her over the years but to which she never heeded. Live for today, there is no promise of tomorrow. But Emily was being extremely careful of making mistakes. She had made one mistake with her thoughtlessness and she had paid dearly for it; her parents had lost their lives over that one mistake. Now, the same message was said to her from a stranger that barely knew her.
Was she that much of a drag? Was it so obvious that her life was pretty much empty?
“Cautious is good, it saves people from death.” She whispered. She had no idea who she was trying to convince; Ryan or herself.
Ryan was looking at her curiously now.
“Correct me if I am wrong but is there anything that can save people from death?” he asked as if he totally understood how she felt. When she continued to look at him unseeingly, he added quietly, “People die, Emily. We can’t help it.”
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Before she knew it, she told him all about her parent’s death. She told him how they had gone for a much deserved holiday in the Bahamas and how she had called them incessantly, wanting them to come home a week before her sweet sixteenth birthday instead of the scheduled three days originally planned. She had been so churlish that they gave in at last to her whines and booked an earlier flight home. They never reached home but died in a fatal plane crash.
By the time, she was through, silent tears were rushing down her face. Through it all, Ryan patiently listened and did not utter a single word. He simply held her hands in his, gently rubbing her knuckles with his fingers to urge her on. Encouraged by his silent actions and the empathy she saw in his eyes, she took a deep breath and dabbed at her tears with the tips of her fingers. She felt so drained and wished she could just get up and leave the place.
“I think we need to get out of here,” he muttered as if he read her thoughts precisely. He was already standing up and taking her with him.
Em
ily didn’t know how but Shannon was beside them in an instant.
“What is going on here?” she demanded.
Emily sniffed and attempted to explain but Ryan beat her to it.
“I guess you are the friend she came with. I am Ryan Jones and I will just be taking her out for a walk,” he said. “She is safe with me, I promise.” He added.
Shannon looked into his eyes for a long moment while he held her gaze. Shannon gave a small nod at last as if coming to a decision. Without another word, she hugged Emily and turned back on her heels. Some part of Emily recognized that Shannon had just helped her make a decision about Ryan and pronounced him safe enough to be with her friend. She decided that if Shannon thought he was safe, then he must truly be; her Irish friend was never wrong about an individual’s personality in all the four years they had been together.
She followed Ryan out of the hall.
Three
He took her to an ice cream bar.
They both sat outside a nearby convenience store in the dark of the night with the stars smiling down at them both. Ryan had not said a word concerning her sordid tale but he was with her emotionally, she felt it. She wondered how he was able to do it; showing her his support without so much as a single word.
Strangely, her mind was completely blank as she dug into her plate of ice cream.
“You did not kill them.” She heard him say.
She looked up into his eyes. They shone like a cat’s in the neon signs of the store and the night stars. They bored right into hers. His plate of ice cream remained unopened in front of him.
She nodded her head slowly.
“I know,” she whispered, “though they would still be alive if it weren’t for my petulance.”
Ryan was shaking his head.
“Maybe they would but you don’t know that for sure. There are a thousand and one ways to die, Emily,” he said with a sad inflection in his voice. Before she could dwell on it, he talked on. “Shit happens and we sometimes allow it or cause it to happen but when it does, the greatest mistake we do, the greatest ill we do to ourselves is allow ourselves be soaked up in the shit. When we do this, Emily, we will be living a life of worry. We put our lives on hold for nothing but conjectures when we should only try to become a better person in the most positive way.”
