The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series)

by Georgina Guthrie

  “Are you serious? You want to tell her about that too?”

  “The look on his face when I told him I was going out tonight with the two of you? I couldn’t continue putting up road blocks. He’s definitely interested in joining us.”

  “Wow. Okay, then. So, when I tell her about us, what am I allowed to share? I don’t want to overstep.”

  “Well, how about telling her we’ve met outside of class a few times to discuss school issues, found that we get along well and have a lot in common, and we’re thinking maybe there could be a future for us…”

  He trailed off, and I considered his words. There could be a future for us. That could be interpreted in so many ways.

  “That’s pretty open-ended,” I said. “How about I put it this way: Is there anything you don’t want me to tell her?”

  “You can tell her where and when we’ve gotten together, but could you hold back some of the, um, sordid details of our encounters?” he added, chuckling sheepishly.

  I could tell he was smiling. I could almost see him shaking his head.

  “But I can tell her about dinner at your parents’ place?” I asked.

  “That’s a good starting point since that night seems to have been the catalyst, and that’s how you met Jeremy,” he said.

  “Can I say, for the record, I’m so glad your dad invited me to dinner that night?” I said.

  Without missing a beat, Daniel replied, “Can I say, for the record, I’m so glad my plans in Ottawa fell through that night? I’m especially glad you don’t know how to play snooker.”

  I remembered the way his chin dropped and his eyes became lidded whenever he spoke to me this way. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to be in his arms and felt a physical pang at his distance.

  “Hey, sailor?” I whispered.

  “Yes, poppet?”

  “I miss you,” I said.

  “Oh, I miss you too,” he replied. “My arms miss you. My hands really miss you.”

  Good Lord, where did he come up with this stuff?

  “I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the pretense, Daniel. It’s so hard being near you and seeming indifferent. Tonight’s going to be difficult, you know, after yesterday.”

  “I do know, believe me. I was a mess yesterday. Julie wasn’t the only one giving us funny looks.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think Cara caught me looking at you in the church. She seemed quite interested in the proceedings. She worries me.”

  “All the more reason for you to behave yourself tonight, mister,” I reminded him.

  “I could say the same for you. Will you be able to control yourself when you catch sight of my incredibly sweet knee in the ratty pants?”

  “You’re right.” I laughed. “I’ll be a puddle, there’s no doubt about it. So, um, are you wearing them now?” I asked, closing my eyes to get a visual.

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” he replied, voice sultry and low.

  I sighed, playing along. “What shirt are you wearing?” I prodded.

  “A plain black T-shirt.”

  “Mmm, nice.” Now I just needed to complete the picture. “What are you wearing on your feet?”

  “My feet? Nothing. I got out of the shower right before I called you.”

  Daniel, fresh from the shower in the peekaboo-knee jeans with bare feet. Good Lord.

  “Aubrey?” he asked. “Are we having phone sex?”

  “Don’t interrupt. I wasn’t finished.”

  “Okay, sorry.” He snickered. “What else do you need to know, to, um, finish?” he asked.

  “You didn’t shave, right?”

  “No, that instruction was perfectly clear.”

  “Good. And where are you? I mean, are you in your bedroom or living room?” I asked.

  “I’m in the living room. I was about to play some guitar,” he said.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  I heard the sound of guitar strings being plucked. I moaned, low and throaty. Although I was kidding around, the visual was beginning to make me feel a little overheated.

  “Finished?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that pushed me over the edge.” I let out an exaggerated moan of satisfaction. “For now, at least.”

  “You crack me up.”

  “I’m glad I amuse you.”

  “You do. And I dearly wish you could amuse me all afternoon, but I should get back to marking. I’ve almost finished these Hamlet papers.”

  “I’ll let you go,” I said. “I need to finish rereading Antony and Cleopatra anyway.”

  “Shall we meet outside Brennan Hall at eight thirty?” he asked.

  “That sounds good,” I said. “I’ll text you if I need to.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Good luck with Julie. And sorry about earlier,” he added. “Missing you makes me irrational. I can’t stand the thought of another man being that close to you when I have to keep my distance. It’s so frustrating.”

  “I can see that, Daniel, but I have a life and friends and other relationships that are important to me.”

  “I know. Look, I’ll see you in a few hours, my sweet. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Bye.”

  “Bye,” he said softly.

  And then he was gone. I smiled at my bedroom ceiling, completely overwhelmed by my feelings for him. At the same time, there was a vague apprehension brewing in the back of my mind. Was his overreaction to my relationship with Matt really a result of the imposed restrictions on us, or was he prone to a possessiveness that would threaten my relationships with others? I realized with sudden clarity that my apprehension was coupled with another emotion: Guilt. Here I was, denying any connection to Matt beyond friendship, when no more than three weeks ago I’d been lying on this very bed with Matt’s lips and body pressed against mine.

  I tossed my phone on the dresser before heading out to the kitchen. Matt was starting to clean up. I helped him bring the last of the dishes to the sink and filled it with hot, sudsy water.

  “So, that was your TA, right? Do you make a habit of talking to him on the phone?” he asked.

  “Oh, um, not really. We had a meeting scheduled yesterday to talk about my ISU. We canceled because of the memorial I was telling you about, so he called instead.”

  My face always burned when I lied. I tried to hide my heated blush from Matt by staying intently focused on the plates and cups in the sink.

  “He’s pretty keen on going out of his way to help you. Driving you home after the play that night, and now phoning you…”

  “Yeah, he’s a decent guy. My English class is small. He’s got a good rapport with everyone.”

  Matt grunted in reply, seeming to accept my explanation that Daniel wasn’t favoring me in any particular way. He continued crashing around in the cupboards putting away pots and pans. I took the opportunity to change the subject.

  “So, what are you up to tonight?”

  “Shawn called earlier. I’m heading out with him later.” He paused in his noisy clean up. “He was talking about you.”

  “Really?” I looked at him over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, he saw you at that service you went to yesterday. Said you looked hot.”

  “Get out.” I flushed again and grimaced as I turned back to the sink. Shawn Ward? He’d never shown me the slightest bit of interest. Why now?

  “I’m serious. He even asked me if I thought you’d go with him to the Kap party next Friday—the semi-formal?”

  I’d seen flyers for the Kap party. The slogan was: “It’s Friday the 13th– Bad Shit Will Happen—Look Good When It Does.” I had no plans to go to a semi-formal without Daniel; since his attendance was out of the question, so was mine.

  “I don’t think I’ll be going.”

  “Why not? You should get out—have some fun. Maybe you’ll meet a guy. Or go with Shawn, you know.”

  He frowned and went back to shoving things into the cabinet. Why w
as he pushing Shawn on me?

  “If the events of the last Friday the thirteenth were an omen, I think it’s best if I stay home,” I said.

  “You puked because you were sick, Aub. That has nothing to do with the date and everything to do with germs,” he said, flicking my ass with the dish towel. I grabbed it from him to dry my hands.

  “I’ll see. Right now I need to call Julie to invite her over before we head to a benefit at Brennan Hall. It’s a MADD fundraiser, kind of a tribute to the girl that died.”

  “Really? What time’s she coming over?”

  “I was thinking seven o’clock.”

  “Shit, I’ll be gone by then. That’s too bad. I haven’t seen Jul since last year. Remember when she drank that whole pitcher of mojitos I made? That was a good night.”

  “I remember some of it.” I laughed, tossing the dish towel at him before heading off to my room to phone Julie. As usual she was on the fly, but I managed to convince her to come over around seven before heading to the benefit. As I hung up, I started planning the big reveal. How on earth was I going to tell Julie the truth about Daniel and me?

  Without warning, a vision of a guitar-playing, bare-foot, holey-jeans-wearing Daniel distracted me from my agonizing thoughts.

  And I was okay with that.

  At six thirty, I was ready and waiting for Julie. A note on the counter from Matt told me to look in the fridge for a big surprise. There, in a large glass jug, was a pitcher of mojitos. Maybe some liquid courage would help me tell Julie about me and Daniel.

  I grabbed a small glass and conducted a taste-test. Sinfully good—exactly the way I remembered. I couldn’t resist pouring myself another, and I’d just knocked it back when the buzzer sounded. I let Julie into the building and waited for her in the apartment’s open doorway. As soon as she was close enough, I pulled her into a hug. I squeezed way too hard, anxious about our impending conversation.

  “Aubrey, you’re crushing me,” she gasped. “You been taking lessons from the bruiser? Where is he, anyway?” she asked, looking around the apartment.

  “Matt’s gone out with Ward.”

  “That sucks. I was kinda hoping to see the hunk. You know, get one of his rib-crushing hugs in person.”

  “He was hoping to see you too,” I said, leading her into the kitchen. “He left you a treat.” I opened the fridge and pulled out the pitcher.

  “Oh my God! Mint leaves! Is that what I think it is?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yep. I had a small glass before you got here to make sure it’s fit for company.”

  I poured out two large glasses, and we clinked before we each took a swig.

  “That’s divine,” she sighed. “He’s got a gift, I swear.”

  “Come on.” I grabbed the pitcher in one hand and my glass in the other. “I still have to do my makeup.” I led her to my room and turned on my iPod dock. Julie flopped onto the bed as I put on some mascara.

  “Aubrey, I don’t know what it is, but you’re looking super-hot these days,” Julie said appreciatively.

  “I am?” I looked at myself critically in the mirror. All I saw was the same old me.

  “Yeah, you’re kind of glowy. And look at your legs and ass in those jeans!” Julie crawled across the bed and knelt behind me.

  “You don’t think my legs are too skinny?”

  “Too skinny? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know. I feel all gangly.” An image of Penny and her curves sprang up in my mind’s eye.

  Julie sighed and moved around to lean on my dresser facing me.

  “You have amazing legs. Other women would kill for these gams. And your ass is hot and you know it,” she said, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

  Yeah, okay, I’d give her that.

  “And don’t let me hear you complain about your boobs or skin,” she warned. “Not to mention your hair, and your eyes. God, listen to me. I sound like I’m about to switch teams!” She laughed.

  She was such a great friend. I dreaded having to admit I’d been lying to her.

  “Listen,” she said. “I think I know what’s going on. I’m feeling a little down on myself right now too. I’ve been so busy with dance that I haven’t even bothered with dating, but there’s no logical reason why guys aren’t falling at your feet. Maybe you’re giving off bad vibes or something. I bet if you hold your head up high and tell yourself you are so worthy of a hot guy’s attention, the men will be lining up at your door in no time.”

  I looked at her, biting my lip. “Well, let’s say, theoretically, that there is a hot guy I’m interested in, and, for argument’s sake, let’s say he’s interested in me, too.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “There is a hot guy? Oh my God, I want to hear everything!” She dragged me to the end of my bed.

  “I don’t know where to start,” I said.

  “Well, where did you meet him? How long have you known him? What’s his name? Did he tell you he likes you?” She didn’t give me time to answer in between.

  “I met him in a class—”

  “Really? So you already have something in common. That’s awesome. What’s he like?” she prompted.

  “Um, well, he’s smart, he’s kind, he’s really funny—”

  “Oh, no, this has ‘he’s got a great personality’ written all over it.” Julie winced.

  “No, no, it’s not that at all. He’s tall, super-hot, great ass, eyes to die for, incredible hair, and the most amazing jawline—God, there are no words…”

  “Oh my gosh! He sounds perfect,” she said.

  “He’s pretty wonderful, but it’s not all sunshine and roses. It’s actually kind of complicated.”

  I reached for the pitcher and refilled our glasses. How to proceed? This was all kinds of heinous.

  “Complicated? In what way?” she asked.

  “Well, we can’t go public, I guess you’d say.” I was choosing my words carefully, trying not to blurt everything out all at once.

  “Why not?”

  “Um, well, he’s a TA, so the whole anti-fraternizing thing, you know—”

  I spoke hesitantly, watching Julie’s face for signs of comprehension. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

  She started talking to herself: “What did you say? Tall, great ass, nice eyes, incredible hair, amazing jawline? Holy shit, no way! Oh. My. God! You can’t be serious?” Yeah, she’d hit pay dirt. Her eyes shone with amazement.

  “Yeah, I am,” I said.

  She stood up and walked across my room like she was in a daze, then turned and walked back, coming to rest against my dresser with her drink in one hand and her other hand on her hip.

  “You know what? I should be in total shock right now. But I’m not. I knew it. I even asked you yesterday what was going on between you and Daniel, and you played dumb,” she said.

  “I know, Jul, I’m sorry.”

  “How long?”

  “Not long. Only a week. Everything happened so fast and totally by accident.”

  I told her about the dinner at the Grants, and how Daniel had gotten drunk and revealed his feelings for me. I left out the gory details of the snooker lesson, essentially telling her that his guard was down and he told me things he might not otherwise have said.

  “So every time I saw you or talked to you this week, you and Daniel were an item? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. No, let me rephrase that—I can’t believe you lied to me!”

  “You must get why we’re not broadcasting this? He’s a TA. There are rules.”

  “Newsflash, Aubrey—the way you guys were looking at each other yesterday? Totally broadcasting. You might as well have been wearing red heart-shaped beacons. Besides, I’m your friend. Don’t you trust me?”

  “Of course I trust you, Jul.”

  I reached for her hand, but she snatched her fingers from my grasp as if she’d just touched a hot stove. Her face had turned red. She put her shaking hand on the dresser for support.
<
br />   “I feel like an idiot. You let me keep rambling on about how hot he is and all the while you two are hooking up? You had a good laugh at this behind my back, huh? Stupid oblivious Julie.”

  “Not at all. It’s not like that—” I reached for her again and she backed up. “Will you just let me explain?”

  She put her hand up in front of my face. “I can’t talk to you right now.” She started crossing the room.

  “Julie, you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

  She spun around, her eyes blazing. “God, I can’t believe you just said that! What kind of person do you think I am?”

  I helplessly trailed after her as she rushed out into the living room, slipped her shoes on, and grabbed her coat. She yanked the door open and dashed out to the hallway.

  “Julie, please don’t go!”

  She didn’t turn around, pushing her way through the door to the stairwell and disappearing. The door closed with a hollow click. I stood, staring down the empty hallway, before giving a resigned sigh and heading back into the apartment. I grabbed both my phone and my mojito, downing the rest of it before sending Daniel a text message.

  Disaster. Julie just stormed out.

  She’s super pissed at me. -A

  I poured myself another and sat on my bed to wait for a response from Daniel. A couple of minutes later, my phone rang.

  “Aubrey?”

  “Daniel! Where are you?”

  “We’re at a pub on Yonge Street. I’ve just stepped outside. So, things didn’t go well?”

  “Nope. Not well at all. She is so angry.”

  “Really? I honestly didn’t think she’d react that way. She seems pretty even-keeled. What happened?”

  “I explained everything like you suggested, left out all the gory details, said we were playing it safe. At first I thought she was okay, but she kind of zeroed in on the lying thing and then took off. I don’t think we’ll be seeing her tonight.”

  “Shit, that’s not good. You don’t think—she wouldn’t say anything —”

  “Don’t even go there, Daniel. I came right out and asked her that, and she flipped her wig. She’s mad at me, but she’s not vindictive. She won’t do anything to hurt you.”

  “Good. Well, not good that she’s mad, but—”