Cabin Fever

by K Larsen

  Then mystery girl started muttering his own thoughts under her breath.

  “Just order a fucking coffee. Go to the goddamned ice cream shop, muther fuckas!”

  He laughed out loud. Flip-flops had headphones on, so she couldn’t even tell how loud she was talking. She kept glancing at her watch and when she turned her head to profile, he could see she was mouthing “mother fucka, mother fucka.” He had no idea if she was singing or if she really just wanted her coffee. Maybe she had to pee. But he laughed and she looked and immediately pulled down her giant headphones.

  “Did you say something?”

  “Nope,” he replied, still laughing; the girl cracked him up.

  “Oh,” she replied. Looking confused, she pulled her headphones back up.

  When it was finally her turn, she ordered a venti coffee. He liked her style. He liked it ever more when she took it from the barista and immediately started drinking—no sugar, no milk. He ordered the same thing.

  He took a few sips, watching her over his steaming cup. Coffee on the counter, she wrestled with the dangling cord, wrapping it around her hand and shoving the computer into her backpack. She picked it up to leave, but from holding the cup too tightly, the lid popped off and hot coffee sloshed over the rim, burning her wrist. A napkin stuck to the underside of her flip-flop and she shook her leg muttering, “Goddammit!” He laughed in earnest that time, not trying to be polite or a jerk, just a natural laugh at how she battled with every single aspect of her morning. She looked up at him and they made eye contact. She started laughing, too.

  “Need help?” he asked her.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know with what.”

  “Not exactly your day, huh?”

  “It will be, as soon as I finish this coffee!”

  “Ryan,” he said walking over to her and offering his hand. His approach was easy, friendly.

  “Jackie,” she said smiling. He noticed that she wore tiny, thin gold rings on almost every finger of her hand. She also wore a gold pendant that was nothing more than a tiny arrow pointing down to the spot between her breasts.

  “Walk you to class?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

  “Here, let me get your bag. Looks heavy.”

  “Okay, Prince Charming.”

  She laughed but her eyes were bright when she said it. Something about her lit him up.

  Now, they were a few months into school and he couldn’t help but keep an eye on her, feel protective over her in some capacity. She was just eighteen and he was already a junior. He wasn’t in to her, he didn’t think, but he liked her. A lot. She never failed to make him laugh and she was easy to talk to. Jackie wasn’t necessarily a head-turner but her dark brown curls and warm brown eyes grew on him, until he sometimes felt lonely when she wasn’t around. They’d been out together a bunch and it had never gotten sexual. Jackie liked to play pool and drink beer, she’d eat just about anything, including the scrambled eggs and toast he’d made her the morning after the first night she’d slept over. It was the only thing he knew how to make and he got a little rush from serving her breakfast. It was fucking cold in Wisconsin and she’d left her jacket at a party the night before. They were both pretty drunk and he didn’t want her walking back to her dorm room alone. He really hadn’t wanted to walk her back himself. So, they’d compromised and the two of them squished into his twin and surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. Sort of like siblings or cousins, it felt natural to be close to her. They’d cuddled and whispered and joked like two kids at a slumber party, until they fell asleep from the late hour and the booze. Nothing happened and strangely—he hadn’t really wanted it to.

  Searching for her face through the crowd, he spotted her by the fireplace, dirty dancing with some friends. She was wearing a tube dress that really showed off her figure. He knew she’d run track and field in high school and had been good at it. Long jump record-holder for her high school; he’d laughed when she told him.

  She was laughing and bumping her ass on what appeared to be her roommate Deanna’s leg. As he watched her, he automatically smiled, she brought a warm feeling to his whole face—or maybe it was the hundred proof rum he was drinking. Jackie spotted him watching and raised her hand and waved. He waved back and smiled. She hadn’t forgotten he was here. Ryan kept his eye on her and realized in that moment of observation—seeing her goof around with her friends, that the reason behind his neutrality was that he liked her too much to risk a bad relationship. He wanted her in his life and the safest way to keep her there, was not to have sex with her. Jackie was worth more than that. She was special. His heart was buoyant as it floated across the room, searching for her smile.

  “Are you going to eat your toast?”

  “No, take it.” She tossed it onto his plate. She seemed sad today, distant. Not the usual smiling, witty girl he’d come to enjoy, almost more than anything else at college.

  “Everything okay?”

  It was their Sunday morning late brunch thing they’d started doing last month, or more like any excuse for him to see her, was what it felt like to him. But that morning, she wasn’t herself. Except for the hair piled up precariously on her head, rain boots and shorts, not a stitch of makeup, but she didn’t need it.

  “Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” she asked him. Jackie was stabbing her eggs. They’d ordered the Hangover Special and usually Jackie could pack the whole thing away.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You’re not?” Jackie’s lower lip stuck out a tiny bit when she was hurt. Ryan wanted to nibble it.

  “No, I have to. I usually cook. My sisters are still in high school.”

  She didn’t look the least bit happy about it. He was tempted to invite her home to Des Moines to celebrate with his family. Their holidays were always a blast. Four boys, his Mom and Dad and they feasted, played football and sometimes even did the whole Black Friday showdown to get Christmas presents out of the way early. Ryan’s mom would have loved having him bring a girl home. But it was too much, Jackie and he were good friends and not ready for anything else.

  “Your mom?” Ryan didn’t know what to say. They’d talked a little about home but Jackie was slow when it came to opening up. He knew she was from rural Wisconsin, farm life—that coming to the U was, in and of itself, an adventure for her.

  Jackie just shook her head. It was all she had to do, he knew what she meant.

  “Aw, man, Jack. I’m sorry. Wish I hadn’t said anything.” He was kicking himself for being such an asshole. No wonder the holidays got her down.

  “It’s okay. It’s been a while.” She looked out the window.

  “You want to talk about it, maybe?” She shrugged and then looked up through her long lashes and burst her dazzling smile at him.

  “Okay, therapist.” She resumed eating her eggs. She’d doused them in hot sauce and salt and pepper. Ryan loved to watch her eat.

  “Or not,” he said. “You can get premade Thanksgiving meals from most grocery stores. I was trying to be helpful.”

  “I know, I grew up on that shit.”

  Even when she was feeling down, Jackie was still full of bright light. There was sadness there, obviously, but it didn’t dim her sense of adventure and fun that seemed, more than anything, to be the two tenets than ruled her life.

  She added ketchup and hot sauce to her potatoes.

  “Ready for the game on Monday, tough guy?”

  “Fuck yeah, I am!”

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