Eternal Soul

by Amy Henwood

  Sadie approached me as soon as she spotted us. She began talking before Chase had the chance to properly introduce us.

  “You must be the famous Scarlett. Our Chase here has been going on nonstop about you the past two days.”

  Again, what is with me being the topic of conversation? Am I that newsworthy? Unanswered questions continued to build in my personal encyclopedia.

  “I’m Sadie, and this is Dominic,” she said while pulling Dominic away from the food that he was able to scrounge up while she was distracted. “Say hi to our guest, Dom.”

  “Hi,” he said, clearly more interested in slipping away to feed his stomach.

  “Hi,” I replied.

  Immediately after our introduction, he left Sadie’s side for more beer and food.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said to Sadie, filling Dominic's void.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “We have just about everything. Beer, liquor, coolers, you name it.”

  Scanning the room quickly showed me that everyone present was consuming some form of alcohol. Chase now had a beer that had made its way into his possession while I was distracted meeting Sadie.

  During my short time alive, I had consumed only a small handful of alcohol-infused drinks. My dad would let me have the occasional drink when my mom was away, getting drilled with the don’t-let-your-mom-know lecture. Being buried in books for the past four years had created a profound excuse to abstain from it. Besides, drinking was an expensive habit on my limited coffee shop income. Pressure never came from Mia to indulge either, as she had seen her fair share of intoxicated, misbehaving, regretful people at Fishbowl.

  Having the desire to feel a part of my first official and likely last university party, I opted for a drink that had familiarity, and one of the few names I actually knew.

  “Hard lemonade?” I requested in the form of a question.

  “Smirnoff okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Chase and I hovered around the kitchen island that was exploding with food platters.

  Sadie handed me an opened bottle of Smirnoff Ice.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Help yourself to anything,” she said.

  A chime lightly broke up the consistent murmurs for a single, marginal second. Without a word, Chase vacated my side and greeted the new arrivals.

  “Tell me…” Sadie startled me, quickly replacing Chase’s indents in the floor. “What do you think of Chase?”

  Getting drilled already. I quickly assumed it was a specialty of hers. “Well, I have only known him for an hour, so it's hard to say, but he seems nice.”

  Minus the fact that he had yet to return from the new party attendees, boasting similar qualities with Mia. He did, however, look over his broad shoulder in my direction to smile.

  “He’s a great guy,” Sadie said, interrupting my silent thinking. “Dom and I have known him for years, and he is incredibly fond of you. I have never seen him this excited about someone before.”

  Stalker excited?

  “I’m happy he has finally found someone that sparked his interest. You must be a pretty special person to accomplish that.”

  She had no idea the kind of special I possessed.

  “Dominic and I have been together for a few years now,” she continued. “I have always been concerned that Chase has felt distanced from us ever since we started dating. You know the feeling that you have when your friends are in relationships and you are left on the outskirts alone.”

  Nope, I quietly thought. “Sure,” I said, lying. “That is kind, you worrying about your friends like that. You must really value your friendships.”

  “It’s what friends are supposed to do. Look out for one another. Have you gotten a chance to meet anyone else?” She asked me this while I was mid-drink, preventing me from responding immediately. “Wait, of course not. I have been hogging you since your arrival.”

  I managed to cut in. “Chase briefly introduced me to a few outside. Exchanged names and hellos only.”

  I was relieved she didn’t inquire on who, as I had already forgotten everyone’s names.

  Sadie came in closer, touching her shoulder to mine.

  “Ethan and Cora.” She directed my attention across the open-concept living area. “They have been together for a year now; around the same time Dom, Chase and I met them. They come across edgy at first, but once they warm up to you, you will love them. Brandon, now…” She moved her hand containing her drink in his direction, pointing him out, but he was hard to miss as he was already looking in my direction. “I have known him for quite some time now. Chase and I met him at an outdoor music festival. We clicked instantly and moved in together not long after.”

  “You all live here together?” I had to ask. It was not an overly large house to accommodate six people.

  “No, not all. Chase, Brandon, Dominic and I live here. Ethan and Cora have a place of their own a few streets over.”

  I tried my best to absorb as many details as Sadie laid out. Keeping everyone’s names and backgrounds straight was challenging.

  “I don’t expect you to remember this all by the time you leave. I promise no quiz will be given upon exit,” she reassured me with a light laugh. “Time for me to quit my rambling and let you get back to your date.”

  “Thanks, Sadie. Catch up again later?”

  “Definitely. I’m glad you agreed to come. We are a close group of people, and it was important to him that you had the chance to meet us all.”

  What a sweet person.

  I spotted Chase and walked over to him. He willingly parted ways with the people he was talking with, focusing his full attention on me.

  “I wanted to come back to you, but you appeared to be enjoying yourself with Sadie, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said.

  Okay, maybe he didn’t intend to desert me for so long. “I like her.”

  “She’s a great gal. You and her will get along just fine.”

  Without turning myself into a stalker—I hoped so too.

  5

  Saturday morning approached rapidly, especially since my return home was not until the early morning hours. The day’s sunshine grew brighter through my window, casting light in my already brightly painted, light-grey room. It was neglectfulness on my part, as I didn’t close my curtains upon my return home the previous night. My eyelids went from dark nothingness to amber as the rays ended on my face. I tossed in bed, turning the opposite direction from the window and tried unsuccessfully to fall back asleep.

  I sat upright and stretched my tired bones. Rustling came from the kitchen followed by the distinct sound of the coffee maker processing water through its components. The scent of freshly brewed coffee soon followed. Pain shot through my feet the moment they rested on the ground. The new boots were indeed cute and outfit appropriate, but they had me in blisters by night’s end. Exposing my feet from the confines of the boots on my return home was more satisfying than a baby cuddle with a side bowl of cookie-infused ice cream.

  “Good morning.” I was cheerfully greeted on entrance to the kitchen.

  Mia was seated at the kitchen table with a mismatched mug and an Elle magazine opened in front of her. A second mug was waiting at an empty place setting for me. I must have doodled in my room longer than I thought, for the pot of coffee had completed brewing and was poured awaiting my arrival.

  “Morning,” I responded, rubbing a temple. My intake of alcohol had been more than my entire life combined, assisting in the greeting of a morning headache.

  She pushed the vacant chair away from the table with her foot.

  “How was your evening?” She was eager for details—all the details.

  I sat down and went straight for the coffee. “Good,” I said.

  “Only good? I am having difficulty buying that.”

  I questioned my insecurity on attempting to keep things to myself. Trying will get me nowhere; in the end, she will torture it out of m
e. Someway, somehow.

  “I require every…juicy…little…detail. You are not allowed to withhold any information about boys and your love life from me. It is against the law.”

  “Is that so?” I crossed my arms. “Now explain to me why you don’t tell me the details of your love life?”

  “Number one, you don’t ask; and number two, do you actually want to know all the gory details?”

  A laugh escaped me. “Good point.”

  “Now, are you going to start talking, or do I need to torment you with my sex life until you beg me to stop, with the only way to make it stop is for you to start talking.”

  “Fine,” I begged. “You win.”

  “Ah, nice to see I still have my touch,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

  I needed to quickly decide where to begin, or I would be verbally executed with sex details.

  “I’m waiting.” She impatiently rolled her eyes.

  I opened my lips and spat out strings of words.

  I filled Mia in on arriving at the house. Meeting other people, trying my hardest to keep everybody straight. No dinner and a movie or romantic picnic under the stars, but full-out university party.

  “Did you kiss?” She really had no interest in the finer details of my date, only the mushy tell-all ones.

  “No.”

  “No? You’re joking, right?” She shook her head in disbelief.

  “There was no kiss,” I boldly stated. “He was a gentleman the entire night. He opened the car door for me and walked me to the front step. He said, ‘I had a great time tonight. Thank you for coming.’ I unlocked the door and came inside.”

  “I can’t even start to explain my disappointment in you, Scarlett, but I’m truly not shocked.” She adjusted herself on the chair and flipped to the next page in Elle, taking her focus away from me.

  “What do you mean are you not shocked?” I inquired.

  Does she really think I have absolutely no guts in me? Sure, I may have refused to talk to Chase in the beginning, but I am capable of kissing someone. I just need to do it on my own schedule and not have the pressure of Mia’s standards.

  She looked up. “You were frightened to talk to him yesterday. That is why I left you alone with him without warning in the parking lot. I didn't want to hang off you like a baby monkey. Guys don’t necessarily appreciate having an audience when asking someone out. Therefore, I am not stunned no lip-locking occurred.”

  “You knew he was going to ask me out?” I cut in.

  “Yes—I mean, no,” she stuttered and looked through me, gazing at the wall behind me, looking for words. “What I meant was, it was obvious he was going to ask you out. He didn't eye you up for days to only say, ‘Hi, nice day today.’”

  I nodded my head, putting forward my best convincing smile. There was something she was not telling me, I could feel it. Not the type of feeling that was more a thought—the brain thinking there was something amiss in the situation, putting the mind on a strange alertness, signalling the stomach to queasiness—but a feeling that took over the control of my emotions. It was not letting me decide what to feel, like a puppeteer mimicking my emotional strings.

  “What I’m trying to say,” she intercepted, “is that I am not stunned that no lip-locking transpired. I was simply holding back a small portion of hope that you would prove my theory wrong.”

  “You were, were you?” I asked, testing her theory.

  “I imagined you and Mr. Tight As—”

  “Mia!”

  “Scarlett. It is my turn to talk and you to quietly listen. Now, as I was saying, Mr. Tight Ass and you would look each other deep in the eyes, you would smack him a big wet one on the lips, not be able to stop, end up in your room, do the deed and wake me up in the process of your enjoyment. Okay—well, maybe skip the last part.”

  “The ending would require your presence being at home,” I said, ribbing her for her many evenings of never returning home with a new fling.

  “What is on the agenda for today?” she asked.

  She changed the subject? Did that mean I won that round? Quickly recalling our past word duels, I realized that was my first win—ever.

  Mia had a weird obsession of wanting to know my daily timetable, even on weekends. Accustomed to the routine, I responded without hesitation. “Hopefully get my marketing project wrapped up, and I am working from two till eight.”

  She turned herself in the chair and gazed at the fridge containing our school timetables and work schedules affixed to the door. “I’m working six to close. I’ll drop you off at work and you can walk over after your shift. You can take my car home and I will get one of the girls to drop me off, you can come back and pick me up later, or you can stay and hang out there. Your choice.”

  “Surrounded by drunk, horny college boys whose main goal is not vomiting on themselves—I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Alright, so it's settled. You come get my car then.”

  “I am capable of cabbing it home.”

  “And spend an hour’s wages on it? Nope. You’re coming to get my car.”

  She was incapable of letting me fend for myself. Always driving me or lending me her car, ensuring I got to class and work on time and home safe each night after dark.

  “My life should not cause inconvenience on yours.”

  She stood up from the table and kissed the top of my head. “You are never an inconvenience,” she said before walking away.

  I’m protecting you for him.

  “What did you say?” I yelled at Mia, who was already halfway down the hall to her room.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Yes. You said, ‘I’m protecting you for him.’”

  “You must be hearing things,” she shouted back.

  If only she knew.

  * * *

  A muffled ring filtered through my bed sheets. Frantically, I shoved binders, textbooks and pillows around to locate my phone.

  “Hello?” I answered a ring shy of the unknown number going to voicemail.

  “Hi, Scarlett,” a deep male voice said. “It’s Chase.”

  The phone slipped through my trembling fingers, but I caught it before it landed with a thud on a hardcover textbook.

  He called—is calling. He is on the other end of the line—with me. A boy calling me the day following a date. Wait. How did he get my number? Stalker much? Oh, who cares. It’s Chase, on the phone, with me, right now.

  “Chase, uh, hi,” I stuttered. “How are you?”

  “Much better now that I’m talking to you.”

  Oh gosh, that is corny, my educated brain told me, but my inner schoolgirl cheeks flushed.

  “Would you like to go out again tonight?”

  It took me less than half a second to decide. “Of course!” I attempted to contain my excitement level, but a screech in my voice slipped through.

  “Great. I will pick you up at seven.”

  “Okay, see you then.”

  The line went silent. I fell back onto my bed. Another date with Chase. I let out a loud breath, taking in the notion of going on a second date. Shit! I flung myself upright. I was supposed to work. I fumbled with my phone, finding the last number that called and called Chase back.

  Chase’s voice came on the line. “Hello, sunshine.”

  “Hi, Chase?” I responded to him in question, for some socially awkward unknown reason.

  “Miss me already?”

  “I’m sorry, but I actually cannot make it tonight.”

  “Wow. Getting ditched already. I didn’t expect that one,” he said, voicing disappointment.

  “It’s not that,” I said, trying to defend myself. “I forgot that I work until eight.”

  “Pulling the old work-bail-out excuse.”

  “I’m serious, and disappointed.”

  “Well then…” He paused. “Would you still say no if I picked you up at work at eight?”

  “Make it eight-fifteen.”

  “Done.”<
br />
  I processed the sudden change of my schedule. My night of staring at blank canvas walls unexpectedly shifted to date number two. I walked directly into Mia’s room, not caring what act I would possibly intrude on.

  “Mia!”

  She turned in her desk chair to focus on me. Crossing her arms, as she always did, she said, “You have decided to run away to join the church to become a nun.”

  “You’re a horrible friend.”

  “I know.” She turned her chair back around.

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  “Meh.” The back of her shoulders shrugged.

  “Mia!”

  “Okay, okay. Tell me.”

  “Chase called me.”

  “He did what?” She dropped her pen. She required details—and fast. “When? Why?”

  “Minutes ago. He asked me out again.”

  “Really? When?”

  “Tonight, after my shift.”

  “He doesn’t like to give us much notice. What time? I will move my break in order to get you home in time.”

  “Mia, you don’t have to worry about me, and don’t rearrange your shift on my account.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  “I realize that.” I sighed. “But he is picking me up from work.”

  Her expression turned, trying to hide her dismay. “I guess that makes sense,” she said and scanned me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Your hair is in decent shape from yesterday. I will give it a quick touch up and do your makeup. After going through the entirety of my wardrobe yesterday, I have an outfit in mind.” She cut directly to the fine details.

  After yesterday's charades, and if I continued to see Chase, I should grow accustomed to my VIP treatments from Mia, but at the same time, I would have to show the real me to Chase eventually. Simple, low-maintenance me.