We were so lost in our own world that we didn’t hear the knock on the door and someone entering.
“Beth, I saw your truck in the parking lot, and just—” Megan said, entering the room, but stopped when she saw Steve’s shirt in my chair.
Hesitantly, she looked over to see Steve and me looking at her and she immediately started to blush.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, then turned and left the room.
As soon as the door closed, my head fell to Steve’s chest and we both started laughing hysterically. It took us several minutes before we could control the laughter.
“I think we need to be more careful.” He hugged me.
“I know. At least I shut the door,” I mumbled, into the curve of his neck.
“True, but next time I think you need to lock it or put out your homemade ‘do not disturb’ sign or both, just to be safe.”
“Next time?” I asked, sitting up and looking at him.
He just twisted his lips up charmingly and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Looking at the clock, I realized how late it’d gotten.
“Come on,” I coaxed. Leaning over and grabbing Steve’s shirt, I tossed it on his stomach. “Derek will be here in about ten minutes and I really don’t want anyone else walking in on us.”
Five minutes later, both fully dressed, Steve and I decided to wait for Derek out in the common area and we saw Megan on the couch reading a book.
“Hey, Megan,” I said, pulling up to the back of the couch.
She stopped reading and turned to look at us.
“Hey,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of brown curls behind her ear, still somewhat embarrassed.
“This is Steve,” I introduced him.
“Hey, Steve. I’m Megan, one of the RAs.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry about earlier,” she apologized again, after a moment of awkward silence.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Steve and I replied, together, and we just looked at each other and laughed.
Megan smiled.
A few seconds later, we heard the doors open and saw Derek walk in. He looked to be a tad thinner than Steve, as well as shorter, and had on a Chicago Bears beanie.
“Hey, Derek,” Steve said, before Derek started looking around.
“Oh, hey Steve,” he said, walking over to us and slapping Steve on the shoulder. “How are you?”
“Good. You?” he asked, slapping Derek on the shoulder as well.
“Oh, I’m okay,” Derek answered, before turning to me. “And you must be Beth,” he held out his hand.
“I am,” I replied, shaking it.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things I hope,” I said, looking at Steve and winking.
“Absolutely,” Derek assured me.
“So did you have a hard time finding the dorm?” I asked, turning back to him.
“No. It was pretty easy to find. I don’t live too far from here anyway, so I knew roughly where it was.”
“Oh, okay. Must be nice.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Well,” Steve said, looking down at his watch, “we better get going before it gets too late.”
“Yeah,” Derek agreed, as we all started toward the doors.
Derek headed out the doors and Steve stopped him.
“Take this out for me.” He took his bag off my chair, and handed it to him.
“Sure.”
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay.” Derek replied, with a knowing grin, then turned to me. “It was nice meeting you.”
“It was nice meeting you, too. Drive safe.” I smiled.
“I will,” he said, and walked out.
After Derek left, Steve moved my footrests and squatted down in front of me and I put my arms on his shoulders. He leaned in putting his arms around me, pulling me against him, and kissed me. When we broke apart, I laid my head on his shoulder and squeezed him tighter and he did the same, pulling me even closer. He pulled me so much that I was almost out of my chair.
“I’m gonna miss you. I wish you didn’t have to go,” I whispered.
“I know. Me too, but I’ll call you,” he told me, leaning back just enough to look in my eyes then gave me another kiss.
“Okay,” I said, letting go so he could stand up. “Be careful,” I added, readjusting myself.
“I will,” he said, leaning down to give me another kiss.
Walking out, he told Megan that it was nice to meet her, then mouthed, “Bye,” one more time.
“Bye,” I mouthed back, and watched him leave.
Chapter 12
Finishing dinner, I headed back to my room to study. Shutting the door, I sighed thinking about just how much work this semester was going to be. It had only been two weeks since the semester started, and already I felt overwhelmed. Most of my classes were interesting, but they were already intense. There was so much reading that it felt like I never stopped reading this one long sentence. My literature class was the worst. The stories were some of the longest I’d ever read in my life. Luckily, my Film, Women’s Studies, and history classes made up for it.
Despite being an hour and fifteen minutes twice a week and at least two hours on Wednesday, I found my Film class exciting and interesting because I was such a movie buff. Granted, I knew I would have some trouble with some of the films because of the genre, but I thought I would thoroughly enjoy it. I felt the same way about my Women’s Studies class, but it would be interesting because of the way I was raised. I already knew, from speaking with the instructor and her TA, that our opinions on many issues were the opposite and that I was probably in the minority, but that only made everything more interesting to me. Now my history class, on the other hand, would be interesting for a completely different reason, and to say I was confused by that was an understatement. I’d never found history to be interesting or exciting, but I had a feeling that it would be different this semester. It had a lot to do with my instructor and his teaching method. He had already told us that there wouldn’t be much reading and if there was it would be very little. It also helped that the class size was considerably smaller than my class last year.
Looking down at my phone and noticing the time, I decided to call Steve before doing any more homework, knowing that it would be the best time because of our schedules. Over the past couple weeks, we had managed to talk to each other on a regular basis, despite our busy schedules. If we hadn’t been able to talk for an extended period of time, we at least texted. Just hearing or seeing him say hi, helped me get through the day, especially if it’d been frustrating or just long.
Pulling up to my desk, I hit speed dial and smiled just thinking about hearing his voice.
“Hello?” a female voice said, after the third ring.
“Oh, sorry. Wrong number,” I replied, hearing her voice, then hung up.
I immediately look down at my phone to make sure I called Steve. Seeing that I had, I decided to dial his number just to be safe, knowing my phone.
“Hello?” I heard again, and I froze.
I was so caught off guard, I couldn’t say anything.
“Hello?” she said again, when I didn’t respond.
I heard her, but by the time my brain registered it and I found my voice, she disconnected, and I just sat there with the phone against my ear, unable to move.
After a few minutes, I put the phone down and tried to shake it off and push it away and study. Unfortunately, after only just a few minutes, I realized that that wasn’t going to happen so I closed the book and put it on the floor. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else, and not wanting to talk to anyone, I decided to go to bed. After calling my PA to let her know I wouldn’t need her, changing, and putting the sign on my door, I climbed into bed.
Within seconds of pulling the covers around and over me, the tears began to fall. Wha
t began as two single tears, soon became a river that I couldn’t and didn’t want to stop. Soon I could tell that I was close to the brink so I covered my head and let go, at which point I was thankful that no one lived next to me, but most of all that my blankets were so thick that they drowned out my sobs. I cried until my eyes hurt and there were no more tears and I fell asleep.
When my phone alarm went off the next morning, I reached under my pillow and shut it off then pulled the covers over my head again. Fifteen minutes later, the alarm on my clock went off and I tried to ignore it. About five minutes later, I reluctantly and slowly got out of bed and shut it off and went to the bathroom. Moving up to the sink to wash my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. Man, I look like shit! I was pale, my eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and my cheeks were splotchy and had red streaks from where my tears had fallen.
Seeing myself and realizing I looked almost as bad as I felt, I decided not to go to class. After splashing some water on my face, brushing my teeth, and fixing my hair just enough to look presentable, I called my PA to let her know that I didn’t need her, then went to the dining room to get something to eat. Only eating out of necessity, I grabbed a yogurt and a small box of Cheerios and sat by myself. Finishing up, I threw away my trash and took my bowl up to the front and went back to my room. Once there, I emailed my instructors and checked my phone for any messages. Seeing that I only had a voicemail, I decided to listen to it. I realized it was a bad idea when I heard Steve's voice then felt the tears welling up, so I immediately shut my phone and wiped my eyes. Calming myself down, I put my phone on vibrate then climbed back into bed and went to sleep.
I woke up to a knock at the door. Rolling over to look at the clock, I saw that it was noon. Not really caring, and really not wanting to get out of bed, I rolled back over and closed my eyes. When I was almost asleep again, there was another knock and I pulled the blankets back over my head and ignored it, hoping whoever it was would go away. When the knocking continued, I sighed, heavily, and swore under my breath then pulled the covers off and got out of bed.
“Yeah?” I asked, exhaustedly, with only a hint of irritation, when I opened the door.
“Oh,” Lillian said, her expression becoming sad and concerned when she saw me.
I just looked at her. “Oh, hey Lil,” I said, tiredly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just seeing if you’re going to eat lunch.”
“No, not right now, maybe later.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want me to have Quentin save you anything?”
“Sure. What’s the soup today?”
“Tomato.”
“Okay. If you would that would be great.”
“No problem.”
“Thanks,” I said, with a weak smile.
“Are you okay?” she asked, the concern on her face coming back.
“No, not really.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, automatically realizing I wasn’t sick.
“No, not really. At least, not right now anyway.”
“Oh, okay. Well, when and if you do, you know where I am,” she told me.
“Yeah. And thanks.”
“Absolutely! That’s what I’m here for,” she replied.
Before closing the door, I said, “Thanks again for asking Quentin to save me some soup.”
After going to the bathroom, I grabbed my phone and got back in bed, but this time I sat against the backboard and checked my messages. I had four voicemails and a couple texts. I listened to the voicemails and realized they were from my mom, dad, brother, and sister just checking in. Pulling both knees to my chest then grabbing one of my small blankets and putting it over myself, I called them and instantly felt better. We talked about everything, some of which made me laugh almost hysterically, especially talking about Sam and what he had been getting into. The only subject that didn’t come up when I talked to Mom was Steve, and I was so glad because I didn’t think I could deal with talking about him right then.
When I finally got off the phone with her, I just leaned my head against the backboard with a small smile. I was so grateful for my family because no matter what was going on, they always cheered me up even if they didn’t realize it. Unfortunately, my happiness didn’t last when I got a text. I open my phone and saw it was from Steve and sighed. I opened it without reading it, just so it wouldn’t show up new, then checked the other messages. Seeing that one of them was from Jo, I answered it telling her that I would call later. I opened the other one and ignored it since it was from Steve. Closing my phone, I tossed it into the seat of my chair and fell sideways on the bed. Pulling the blanket with me, I curled up in a ball and fell back asleep to keep from crying.
By two, my stomach was growling so I got up. Heading into the dining room, I saw Mel sitting on the couch watching TV, so I asked her to help me heat up my soup. With my soup heated, I went to the most remote spot in the dining room. There were only a few people in there, but I didn’t want to talk to them, let alone be near them. I just wanted to be by myself.
After finishing the soup, I decided to go and do homework, hoping that would keep me distracted. Before I started listening to the newest chapters, I checked my email to make sure nothing had changed with the assignments. Seeing that nothing changed and that my instructors got my email, I started listening hoping and praying that I wouldn’t fall asleep from boredom and actually be productive. Surprisingly, the stories and chapters were interesting enough to keep me attentive and I didn’t need to go back over some of them again.
By 4:30 I was completely done with all my reading assignments. With nothing to do, I headed upstairs to see if Lillian was busy. Not seeing her in her room, I decided to head back downstairs. Hearing her voice down the hall, however, made me turn around and head that direction. Stopping just short of the doorway, I heard her laughing about something, so I decided to peek my head in and what I saw surprised me. She was sitting very still and with her eyes closed as Brianna did her makeup. Her short blonde hair was curled, and the outfit she had on really flattered her figure. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was getting ready to go on a date. At that thought, I began to get sad again. As much as I was excited and happy for her, I just couldn’t deal with it at that moment. So, as quietly as I could, I headed back down the hall to the elevator and downstairs to try and find something to do while I waited for dinner.
The next morning, I still felt sad and depressed and really didn’t want to talk to anyone, but I knew I had to go to class so I got up. After using the bathroom, I grabbed my phone and went to get some breakfast and wait for Robin. While I drank my coffee and ate a bagel, I checked my messages and saw yet another one from Steve. Sighing, I put my coffee down and replied, knowing if I didn’t he would just keep calling or texting me.
Steve: Are you okay? he answered back, a few minutes later.
Me: Yeah, sorry. I sent back, trying to keep it short because I still didn’t want to talk to him.
Steve: Sick?
Me: Yeah.
Steve: Oh. Feeling better?
Me: Yeah.
Taking another drink of coffee, I saw Robin walking into the dining room and I sighed in relief.
Me: Gotta go... class.
Steve: Oh, okay. Bye.
Me: Bye. I sent, then finished off my coffee and took my stuff to the window and headed to my room with Robin.
After showering and dressing, Robin left and I brushed my teeth. Looking at myself in the mirror, as I brushed my teeth, I noticed how much better I looked. While I still looked a little tired, my eyes were not bloodshot and puffy. Also, although my skin was not splotchy and streaky, it was still a little pale so I decided to put on some foundation.
Spitting in the sink, I wiped my face off and went back and grabbed my makeup. Noticing the time, I hurried back into the bathroom and put some foundation on. After smoothing it over, I washed my hands and headed back to put my jacket on and
grab everything I needed for class. Before leaving, I looked at myself in the mirror one more time. Seeing that everything looked in place and as good as it was going to, I shut all the lights off, grabbed the sign, and headed out.
While sitting in Women’s Studies, my phone vibrated and I jumped. Looking around to see if anyone noticed, I was thankful that the ‘vibrate’ wasn’t very noisy when it looked like no one seemed to notice. Grabbing my phone, I quickly looked to see who it was from and sighed again when I did.
Me: Can’t talk... still in class.
Steve: Oh, okay. Call you later.
Me: Okay.
Closing my phone and putting it back on the table, I re-focused my attention back on class and pushed any thoughts of Steve out of my mind.
Later that day, I was doing homework when my phone rang and I picked it up without even looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Steve said, happily.
“Oh, hi Steve,” I replied, distractedly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Because you sound distracted or like something’s bothering you.”
“Oh, I’m studying and I’m tired,” I told him, conveniently leaving out that I was angry at him for cheating.
“No you’re not.”
“What?”
“You’re not just studying and tired.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, starting to get agitated.
“Nothing,” he replied, sensing my agitation, but continued, “It just seems like something else is bothering you, like you’re mad at me or something.”
“What? Why do you say that?” I asked, biting my bottom lip nervously.
“Well, yesterday you didn’t return any of my calls or texts then—”
“I told you I wasn’t feeling good,” I cut him off, my agitation starting to come through.
“Yeah, but—”
“But what?” I asked, trying to hold my temper.
“But then today you’re all but ignoring them.”
“I’m not,” I lied.
“Yes, you are and you know it,” he said.
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