by gard, marian
"Well, I think I'm going to go to a few of the campus bars tonight. You, Mr. Antisocial Grump, can take it or leave it. No doubt there would be something in it for you, though, if you decided to come along. Plenty of easy bimbos hang out at the bars."
Don't I know it.
Raven loves to tease me about just about everything, but in this way that doesn't make me feel judged. It's one of about a million qualities I would list if I ever had the chance to tell her how I feel. If I ever had the guts to tell her, that is. The past few months I've curbed my habits significantly, in fact, it's been weeks since I've hooked up at all, but if her earlier joke is any indication, I don't think she's noticed. I fake offense to her comment, clutching my chest. "Woman, you wound me."
She smirks. "Yeah right."
"I'm capable of going out to the bars, socializing and not picking up someone, you know," I say more seriously.
"I think your definition of socialization is a little different than the rest of the world," she deadpans.
"And I think your definition of "fun" could use a revision." I glance over at her, but her expression is serious. She parks her car near her apartment, where I've been crashing for the past couple of weeks since my roommate and I got evicted (long story), and turns toward me. Once her eyes lock with mine it's as though the music in the car just stops, I can hear nothing except my own heart accelerating as my breath gets caught in my lungs.
"Collin, look, I know this stuff doesn't mean to you what it does to me, but I'm a little nostalgic about the crappy bars on campus and other things I know you deem as lame. That's OK. You don't have to see things my way, but at least think about coming out with the group of us tonight. You might shock yourself and have fun. There's so little time left here." She places her hand on top of mine and smiles a tiny smile. I feel the gentle pressure of it and I'm suddenly desperate for the comfort her touch provides. I look away from her and she retracts her hand. This woman has no idea the effect she has on me. Not a clue. I'm lucky I learned how to hide my emotions at an early age, because if I had a ‘tell', it would be obvious by now.
She reaches into the backseat and grabs her purse from behind us. "If you have to bed some bambi tonight, that's fine too." She lets out an exaggerated sigh, resigned to my alleged bad boy ways. "Just go to her place; don't be bringing whatever it is you do to my couch, OK?"
She pushes her door open and I follow suit. "Raven, you're talking like I lack any self-control whatsoever. I can withstand a night at one of the campus bars, and still manage to keep it in my pants. Geez." I'm starting to feel a little pissed here.
I shuffle up behind her as she ascends the stairs to her apartment. What I'm not saying is I'd be happy to hang out with her tonight, and I could even tolerate her friends, but not her boyfriend, Spencer. I could easily fold that guy up and throw him in a trashcan. I know it and he knows it.
*** *** ***
A few hours later, I'm sitting on the landing outside of Raven's apartment waiting for the girls to finish getting ready. I hit the steps as soon as the "primping" began. They all crowd around the hallway mirror with all their hair junk and makeup. I have a stepsister, I get that this is normal, but it still annoys me to watch Raven look in the mirror and decide that she has to transform into one of the stupid bar-girl clones. I light a cigarette and inhale deeply. Raven has banned my habit in her apartment, as well as in her car. She's pleaded with me to quit since we met in a creative writing class our freshman year. She's so earnest about it that it almost makes me want to stop. Almost.
Spencer appears at the top of the landing, dressed preppy and smelling like a half a bottle of some overly masculine joke of a cologne. Neither of us bothers to greet the other. What's the point? No one's watching and this hatred isn't a one-way street.
"Is Rachel ready?" he asks in his nasally voice.
"Rachel" is Raven. Nearly all of her college friends, and even some of her high school friends, call her Raven. She sat behind me in the first class we had together, and one day I wanted to talk to her, but I couldn't for the life of me remember her actual name. It probably seemed like a come-on, but it wasn't. I made it a personal rule, after a few very bad post sex encounters, not to do date anyone I had a class with. The drama unleashed on me by those girls, and their little rag-tag buddies, was so not worth it.
I glance up at Spencer. He's been the one holdout. He refuses to call her Raven, even though she tells everyone she prefers it. She told me once that she never liked her name, never felt like a Rachel. Nope, Spencer won't do it, because it has a connection to me, and if he had it his way, all links to me would've ended a long time ago. When I'm around he loves to say her name as much as possible, sometimes giving me a sideways glance that says, "Rachel is our special thing." What-the-fuck-ever.
I shrug at him. "Go on in."
I don't move out of his way, so he steps awkwardly over me like a giant pile of dog shit he's trying to avoid. If Raven were here now, watching me be a total dick to him, she'd be lecturing me about my assholedom.
I finish my cigarette and follow him into the apartment, immediately staking claim to the larger of the two couches, the one I've been sleeping on for the past few weeks. Spencer, having clearly been told to wait in the living room, saunters back and takes the opposite couch, waiting obediently like the good dog that he is. We don't bother with small talk; no need to pretend when Raven isn't here.
He seizes the remote like he's won it from me and begins flipping through the channels, only pausing to adjust his black, buttoned down shirt. Spencer is always well dressed, well groomed, well spoken, well-to-do. In a few days he will graduate with a business degree and start working at his daddy's company. He thinks I don't get his lifestyle or where he comes from, but I do. Spencer is a lesser version of what I would've become had I'd done what was asked or expected of me.
Tabby meanders down the hall first, clearly not in any hurry. She has on the standard bar outfit: skimpy tank, short black skirt, and screw-me black boots. She has a decent figure, but I'd give her personality a zero. I don't feel too bad about that, because she makes no bones about the fact that she doesn't like me. "So, Collin, I hear you're going to grace us with your presence tonight?" She twirls a lock of her blonde hair between her fingers and glares at me.
The dog's ears perk up; this is not what Spencer was hoping to hear. I guess Raven left that detail out.
"Yeah, Tabby, I'm coming. Don't worry, though, I plan to be a good little boy tonight." I give her a condescending wink.
Not watering down her disgust even a little bit, she laughs humorlessly. "I'll believe it when I see it." She rolls her eyes and then returns to her reflection. I guess the amount of cleavage she has showing just isn't enough, because she tugs on her tank exposing even more of her boobs. Work it girl, ‘cuz it's pretty much all you got.
Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I don't doubt that he's enjoying watching Tabby's take down, but I think he's still reeling from the news that we have to pretend to be buddy-buddy for the rest of the night. The feeling is mutual, jackass.
Raven
The phone rings, and I call out to Tabby that I'll get it.
"Hello?" I say, pinning the phone between my chin and my shoulder as I continue to battle my hair. I move toward the large mirror that hangs just outside our shared bathroom and scrutinize my reflection.
"It's me." I hear the already tipsy voice of my best friend, Vanessa.
"What's up? You're still meeting us out tonight, right?" I ask sternly. She'd better not be ditching.
"No need to get your panties in a bunch, Raven. I'm coming. I was just wondering if I left that silver cardigan at your place?"
I look back down the hall toward my bedroom. My desk is visible through the doorway and I'm able to see her sweater, which is folded neatly over the back of my chair. "Yep, you did. I was planning on bringing it tonight."
"Thank God! I really thought I lost it." She lets out an exaggerated sigh.
"No problem, my dear. When are you guys getting there?" I clip my hair up, and pronounce it good enough.
"Um, we should be able to meet you in, like, twenty minutes, or so. Is Spencer there yet?"
"Yeah, he got here like ten minutes ago. I haven't broken it to him yet that Collin's coming out with us tonight." I laugh nervously.
"Oh geez, Raven," she scolds. "You're making those two boys nuts!"
I tiptoe into my room, shut the door and lower my voice. "I am not! I've been friends with Collin for years. He's my closest friend apart from you. Spencer has to accept that. And Collin knows Spence is my boyfriend. That's that. They need to deal." I trace my finger along the narrow space between the door and its' frame watching the light from the hall cancel out as I go.
"Yeah, well, maybe they do, but Spencer isn't blind. He knows Collin is sooo in looove with you," she coos. I feel my stomach drop and I sit down on the bed. Vanessa used to make little jokes along these lines about Collin years ago, but this is the first time in a long while, certainly the first time since I got together with Spencer.
"Hellooooo? Earth to Raven? Are you still there?" She maintains the same sticky sweet tone.
"Why are you talking like that?"
"Like what, Raven? Truthfully?" She snickers and I'm compelled to roll my eyes.
"Vanessa, you need to take it down a notch. It isn't like that at all." I flop backward on the bed and cover my eyes with my arm.
"Pfft…you're so blind. What's Collin doing after we graduate, anyway? You know, other than finding an excuse to follow you to Michigan." Her last few words are muffled, and I picture her clenching her brush in her teeth as she pulls her hair up, as I've seen her do so many times before.
I sigh into the phone. "We haven't really talked about it. Knowing Collin I'm sure he hasn't even thought about it yet. If he has, he certainly hasn't mentioned it to me. You can give him the third degree tonight, if you want," I add sarcastically.
"Maybe I will," she giggles. "Don't be mad, girl. I'm just teasing you…mostly."
"I know. I just wish Spencer and Collin could get along. It would make my life so much easier." I bite my lip as I picture the two of them waiting in our living room right now, undoubtedly sneering at each other.
"Add that to your pipe dreams." Vanessa laughs again and I don't really respond. "OK. I'm done. Let's have a fun night, alright? I'll see ya' in a few." I can tell she's already become distracted by something else where she is…probably her boyfriend.
"OK," I mumble as the call disconnects.
I roll over toward my window and think about what Vanessa just said. I curl my legs toward my stomach, like I did as a kid when I was worried or afraid. I'm not trying to make anyone nuts. I definitely don't want to hurt Spencer. I look over at the picture of us that I have sitting on my desk and think back to last year, when we first began dating. We'd had a few of the same classes, but didn't really start talking until we were assigned a group project together. He wasn't exactly shy, more like quiet and studious. I never had to worry about him pulling his weight in the assignment, that's for sure. While working together, we talked on the phone a few times and flirted a little bit. He asked me out the day we presented our project to the class. He was cute, and the awkward way he asked struck me as sweet, so I said yes. Things progressed pretty quickly and within a few weeks we decided to be exclusive.
I can't really say I've ever had major butterflies with him, but I don't think you always have to have that to make a good couple. My parents claim they had been head-over-heels, and their marriage lasted about two seconds. Spencer and I are comfortable together and I feel like I can always count on him. My dad isn't exactly Mr. Reliable, and my mother is a total flake—even she would admit that. I couldn't be more opposite, and I always swore to myself that when I chose the guy for me, he would be someone I could really depend on. Spencer fits that bill in every way. He's responsible, driven, polite and he's never late—a huge pet peeve of mine.
His parents are great and have totally welcomed me into their family. My mother jokingly laments that they have me married to their son already, but I really like feeling wanted and included, something I definitely haven't always felt in my own family. His dad even lined up a few interviews for me in their hometown, which I'm very excited about.
The only real conflict we have is Collin. Spencer doesn't get my friendship with him at all. I've tried to explain that Collin has really been there for me over the past few years and I'm not going to cut him out of my life just because I have a boyfriend. I have repeatedly told him that we've always been just friends, never anything more, but he doesn't buy it. He tries not to insult me and insists its Collin he doesn't trust. Things came to a breaking point during first semester this year, however. Spencer got really upset about it, and even cried a little, which totally freaked me out. While I refused to end my friendship with Collin, I did agree to cut back on the time I spent with him, which helped for a while. Then, a little more than halfway through this semester, Collin got kicked out of his apartment and I let him crash with me. I thought Spencer was going to combust. The only thing that seems to be keeping him from totally losing it, is the fact that graduation is right around the corner and soon it will just be him and me.
There's a part of me that will be relieved to have the tension between the two men who matter most to me end, but it's also really hard to imagine not having Collin in my life anymore. I sit up on my bed and reach for my boots. Strapping them on, I resolve to talk with Collin about keeping in touch. He's not good about plans, but maybe he'd make an exception, and we could set some dates to hang out once I move away.
Collin
Raven appears in the living room, also in the bargirl uniform. Her dark hair is swept up, exposing her long, pale neck. She's gorgeous, but I swallow this thought. I can't say anything about it.
"Ready to go, babe?" Spencer rises from the couch and crosses the room to her, where she plants her ruby lips on his cheek in a light kiss. I want to punch him. Everyone is so hung up on what an asshole I am, and yet she walks out here looking like that and he says nothing? Douche. Bag. I run a hand through my hair and wonder how I'm going to tolerate this night, especially without being able to seek oblivion in a bottle. I can't get drunk. For me, intoxication means seeking out the bimbos, and I'm not going to let Raven down. Before she follows Spencer out the door, she squeezes my arm and whispers she's glad I'm going. Her fingertips graze my knuckles as she releases me. The skin-to-skin contact, combined with her approval, is almost more than I can take. It's a damn good thing I don't say much as it is, because her touch triggers all the moisture in my mouth to evaporate instantly. I manage a half smile, one that I hope masks my accelerated heartbeat. Jesus, Raven.
Chapter 2
Raven
There are seven of us packed into a long table at Sheldon House, my favorite campus bar. It's loaded with dark wood, historic signs and memorabilia from our school. Most nights the music is low, matching the lighting, and it's a great place for a beer and conversation. On a Saturday night, however, loud music blares and the place is practically busting at the seams. We were lucky to get our table and we plan on hanging on to it.
Vanessa is sitting next to her relatively new beau, Ryan, who happens to be Spencer's roommate. It took me forever to set them up, but then she finally agreed to meet him and voila! I'm a hookup genius. I like the two of them together. He's sweet to her; and for once, she seems relatively content. She's been a serial dater all of college, and claims she was in high school too. She hasn't been with Ryan all that long, but I think he's already holding the record for her longest relationship. I about fell off my chair when she referred to him as her boyfriend. That was a definite first. He's brought out a new side of her, too. She's not usually the touchy-feely type, but when the two of them are together, she can get downright mushy. It's fun to see her happy.
Before Spencer, Vanessa had a completely different take on Collin than Tabby. She thinks he is, and I
quote, "smokin' hot," and used to pressure me all the time to "just do him already!" When I was single she insisted that Collin and I should give friends with benefits a go. My counterargument? That arrangement is a prelude to one of three possible outcomes. 1) Girl falls in love. Guy doesn't. Broken heart ensues. 2) The exact reverse of number one, except for the broken heart part or 3) The sex doesn't go well—no one views it as a benefit. The conclusion to all of these scenarios: friendship ruined. Not to mention the small, but impossible to ignore, detail that I highly doubt Collin is interested. From what I've gathered from his hook-ups, I'm not his type, and he has sure as hell never had a girlfriend the entire time I've known him. I think he told me once that he ‘didn't believe in relationships'. I have no clue what the hell he meant by that, but I'm pretty confident it wasn't a pickup line.
Spencer is sitting next to me with a possessive hand resting on my knee. He always gets like this around Collin. It's so annoying. Of course, Collin isn't much better. He loves to needle and agitate Spencer and then shoot me innocent looks like he has no idea why Spencer is seething.
In an act of goodwill, Collin bought everyone the first round of drinks tonight. While he was ordering at the bar, I couldn't help but notice these two girls who were clearly trying to get his attention. The less he looked their way, the harder they tried, until one of them was basically rubbing up against him.
While Collin's been dubbed a womanizer, I don't exactly see it that way...it's more like…I don't know…like he gives in? Sometimes I think being Collin must just be really weird. I mean, what would any guy do with all that attention? Girls ogle him wherever we go. It doesn't matter if it's an early morning class, or closing time at the bar, Collin is always on the receiving end of some girl's sexual stare-down. I've witnessed chicks practically throw themselves at him and usually, unless he's drunk, he acts like he's oblivious. When he's loaded however, it is a totally different story; he definitely responds to their attention. I don't like to be around him when he's like that. It's as though he's a total stranger. He gets this weird smile on his face that's like a distorted replica of his real smile and acts all flirtatious. We haven't talked about it much, but the one time we did, he defended himself by saying he'd never do anything with a girl unless he was sure she was totally OK with it. Translation: It's mutual. Next topic, please. It wasn't the heart to heart I'd been seeking, but I had good reason to believe he was telling me the truth.
