Chapter Four
Strangely enough, Tess didn’t ask me anything about Audrey. She was busy living her life through electronic means until she could return to it in person. But, I knew I wouldn’t get so lucky with my sisters. Crossing my fingers, I decided to take a gamble. Audrey and I already share a history of trespassing…so what’s one more small infraction.
“Hey, Tess…mind dropping us off, here? We need to pick something up before I head back to the house,” I asked her about a block from where I live.
“Sure thing, C.B.C. – oh, I feel like I might be late to practice…” Tess agreed and then, tested the waters.
“I hear ya’. And, I’ll even join you in that three mile run as an extra show of my eternal gratitude for sacrificing your not-so free Sunday night to repay me…” I responded with a wink and a smile to Tess, before she drove away in frustration.
“Okay, do I even wanna know what that was about?” Audrey inquired about our cryptic exchange.
“I’m usually the laidback sort, but not when it comes to cheerleading practice. I’m the C.B.C. or Cheer Baby Captain. We have a regional competition coming up. If anyone is late to practice – physically, mentally or technologically – they have to stay after for a three mile commitment run. Tess has a new boyfriend. I’m sure my intrusion tonight wasn’t welcomed, as evidenced by her marathon text session and sighs of exasperation during our shopping spree.
“What can I say? I’m batting a thousand in the life disruption department tonight…
“Oh, that reminds me, the reason I had her drop us off here is I was wondering if you’d like to skip the formal sisterhood snoop-fest for this evening. We’ll have to shimmy up the trellis to my bedroom should you choose to ditch.
“Or, I’m more than amicable to introducing you to the brood. They were all home when I left this afternoon. I’ll even point out the real snobs and sweethearts, for your future reference…” I offered.
“I’m going for a lifetime skip on those formal introductions, if you don’t mind. I’ve seen plenty from my accidental investigations of your house. I was actually giving consideration to researching and writing my master’s thesis on the adverse effects of nail polish fumes on brain cells. But, I’m sure you realize, I would have to obtain their consent and I don’t think I could get them to agree. No offense, but most of your roomies make middle-schoolers’ appear world-weary, wise…” Audrey remarked.
“Trust me – everything looks asinine from a distance. I spent a few semesters abroad and it gave me some true perspective. I sadly, realized that college in America is usually nothing more than four, plus years of proving children can survive in the wild – with or without actual adult supervision…” I replied, humorously.
“Abroad, huh?” she asked and then, hesitated – waiting for me to elaborate.
I nodded and remained silent…coaxing the frightened deer to come to me.
“Abroad anywhere sounds like bliss. But, I’m too close to my goal to dropout. I’m not interested in living up to their expectations…” Audrey declared before she fell silent.
Although I was curious about her comment, I didn’t question her. This reminds me of the time I spent trying to get to know Ember. I suppressed thousands of questions until she learned that she could trust me. There is a significant difference between her and Audrey, though. I had the privilege of a few days to observe Ember before we struck up a conversation. So, I sort of had a feel for what to say and what topics I should avoid.
All I know about Audrey is: she’s in a public study group through the week; she taught me that the reflection of my eyes can get me caught and (up until an hour ago) she lived in the maintenance shed across from my sorority. I had a sneaking suspicion that I won’t be seeing her anymore at the Hookah bar. So, our paths will likely part tomorrow…oh well, such is life.
We remained hidden along the tree line while we inched towards my backyard. I noticed Lyle’s car was still parked in front. The officers had evidently given up and returned to their station.
As we climbed the delicate structure and avoided getting stabbed by thorns, I almost started laughing again. I never thought I would have to be sneaking into my own house as an adult. And, my sneaking wasn’t over…
I wound up having to crawl into the kitchen on all fours, so I could swipe the dishwashing liquid. That’s the only product we had on hand to remove the black grease from our skin. I had finally convinced Audrey to let me buy her two sets of clothes to balance the cosmic scales. She came out of the shower wearing comfortable lounge pants and a top.
The twin sized trundle bed, stored underneath my mattress was already pulled out and waiting for her. Seemingly embarrassed, she brushed her wet hair and whispered “excuse me” as we navigated around each other in my small space. By the time I scrubbed myself clean and exited the bathroom, she was already asleep.
I stayed awake for a long time trying to reconcile my actions and decisions I made during the course of the evening. I never choose avoidance. I couldn’t figure out what prompted me to select it, especially in this particular circumstance.
In the stillness of the night, I could think of many other options. I could have just allowed Lyle to believe whatever he wanted to about our relationship. I could have demanded that he take me home, immediately…faked an illness…made a scene…refused to speak until he listened to me. No matter how many ways I envisioned the different choices, the outcomes never turned out in my favor.
Lyle would have expected sex, tonight if I had just let him believe we’re still a couple. Going home would not have been helpful to my cause. My sisters know Lyle is a 3-prime frat catch – 3-prime = handsome, rich and popular. I can actually hear their arguments as to why I’m nuts to let him go. Faking an illness is temporary and gives him an excuse to escort me to bed. There is a large chance that he would misinterpret any scene I might make and think it’s my sorority ploy to get his full and undivided attention. And, his promises to listen would end up being worthless too, because he only hears what he wants to hear. The words I speak won’t matter to him…
He is not used to being rejected, by anyone, for any reason. So, the only way I can wiggle out of this jam is to concoct a scheme that makes him want to break things off with me. That’s it! Lyle needs to stumble upon another love interest.
The question is…can I help make that happen?
I know plenty of single girls. And, I also know Lyle…his interests, likes, dislikes and what type of girls he goes for.
The idea was taking shape, quickly. I was feeling tentatively confident while I was weighing my odds of success, when Audrey was startled awake with a nightmare.
“Are you okay?” I asked her softly and scared her again, in the process.
“I’m spectacular…what do you think??” she retorted, harshly. “Wait, don’t apologize…I’m the one that should say “sorry”. I’m not much of a morning person. That’s probably why I got kicked out, in the first place…” she offered, half-jokingly.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better my g-mom wouldn’t permit the word “morning” to be uttered in our house while I was growing up. She’s a true believer in ‘verbal evasion’. Saying something makes it real and she refuses all forms of convention…including, but not limited to, experiencing mornings by acknowledging that they exist…”
“And, what’s her excuse for the morning dodge?”
“You mean excuses. She has many. But, my favorite is her concerns over our being forced into a daybreak, Clown College curriculum. Around my home, make-up removal at any time, by either one of us was considered a minute killer. Our time was to be better spent living…” I replied, comically.
“Circus life might’ve been fun…”
“We did that once, just for a couple of days. Clowns lose all their humor, afterhours. No amount of rum-less Coke and cotton candy can “un-scar” a six-year-old, by the way. Just ask my g-mom, wh
o had her hopes dashed when she discovered me hanging upside-down from the stationary trapeze, threatening to let go and crying over Gigglez and Chuckles.
“My g-mom thought I was asleep when she and the clowns were playing a dice and card game called, Attack 21 Pokered Jacks & Craps. Oh, don’t ask me to explain it. I’m only allowed to share the details with people who have balanced on one-foot, in the curl of an elephant’s trunk.
“I couldn’t sleep being surrounded by so many cool animals. The circus seemed so glamorous, magical and full of joy. But, those clowns were just pretending to be the happiest people on the planet. Ya’ know, acting for the kiddie’s. It turns out Gigglez, a.k.a. Herbert and Chuckles, whose actual name is Root, lived together because they had lost their families and their litter of puppies in a house fire.
“Oh, I ate the cotton candy and drank the two liter of soda my g-mom brought up to bribe me with, in a misguided attempt to drown away my sorrows through sugar. But, the sad memory of Gigglez and Chuckles, telling their sob story, is permanently seared in my mind. Wanna hear what makes it all the more tragic??”
“Sure…”
“My g-mom later insisted their story was a con job. She caught them cheating at the dicey cards’ game they were playing and called them on it before I started listening. I know she was telling the truth, but those two Bozo’s ruined clowns for me, forever.”
“Well, it could’ve been worse. That sugar rush could’ve also spiraled you into a coma…”
“Now, that’s what I call a stretch to the ‘bright side’…” I agreed and giggled.
“It’s time for me to get going,” she revealed, on her way to the bathroom to change into her other, new outfit.
“You’re welcome to stay.”
“I’m used to starting my day in the dark of night. Bet that would make your g-mom happy…no reference to the dreaded “M” word from me…”
The awkward silence stretched out, as she folded my sheets neatly and headed to the window to escape. And, I didn’t know what to say without spooking her or making her feel weird.
“Thanks for letting me crash with you…” Audrey stated.
“It’s the least I can do because I crashed you, first. And, there’s no need to climb out the window. I’ll walk you to the front door. They’re all asleep, by now – I promise,” I told her.
Like normal, Audrey pulled up her hood and disappeared toward the quad. I wonder where she goes this early in the morning…
Feeling like I had righted my mistake, my mind rapidly switched back to my scheme to get Lyle hooked up with another girl. I had a complete list of attributes I would look for by the time I sat down to breakfast.
Mondays are hectic as a general rule, but this one in particular was getting ready to break me. I had intentionally ignored my technological reminder yesterday. My hours spent with my g-mom and grandma this weekend had an undesired side effect. Their visit brought out my (formally dormant) internal rebel. The payment for that rebellious indulgence would be great.
I didn’t study for an important exam and my failing grade on the computer screen was a glaring reminder. When I asked for an extra credit assignment, the professor said he doesn’t believe in academic crutches.
Once again, my rebel girl surfaced. My tongue rushed ahead of my brain and I impulsively commented, “…sounds more like you believe in personal job security, Professor Repeat.”
He did not take too kindly to my offhanded remark. So, he gave my request further consideration and promptly, changed his mind.
“Ms. Stewart, I shudder to think you might leave here with such a low opinion of me, regardless of my exam policy being clearly noted in my syllabus. Here…allow me to give you this one concession. By all means, improve your grade – now or never,” Professor Asterid said as he pulled out a seat for me in front of another computer.
He reset the test and added six mandatory (no-points awarded) essay questions at the end regarding the importance of reading and understanding his syllabus. I could either accept his generous offer to retake it now or accept a zero – my choice.
I still didn’t know the exam material or have time to retake the test without cutting into my next class. But, as my g-mom would say, my mouth wrote the check and now, my tushie has to somehow cover it.
To make his point abundantly real to me, Professor Asterid would grade my new exam, personally while I stood uncomfortably and waited. My score fell by eight points. But, I still thanked him for the unexpected opportunity and commented about how much fun we’ll have together over the next semester.
By the time I found my seat in my next classroom, I had missed the entire lesson. Students were already finishing up the comprehensive quiz she gives, post-lecture. I didn’t have a prayer of getting a single answer correct because she doesn’t use a multiple choice format. So, I wrote an apologetic note on the top and headed out to find someone to share their notes with me.
My friends had skipped her class that morning and were planning to get the material from me. Finally, the last student who exited reluctantly offered to share hers, but I only had ten minutes to copy them down. I snapped pictures with my cracked iPhone, instead and thanked her for helping me.
Later, I would learn that my iPhone didn’t focus, so the pictures were worthless. And, it turns out my two professors are personal friends. Professor Asterid explained why I had been detained in his class and not so shockingly, Professor Odell wasn’t interested in letting me borrow a PDF of the lecture. So, I wound up paying good cash to copy the notes from another student with questionable writing skills.
I was sincerely looking forward to just painting backdrops and gathering costumes for the upcoming performance in my drama class. After two failing grades in a row, some mindless tasks would be a welcomed diversion. I quietly obsessed about my terrible morning and had a ‘pep talk’ with my wayward tongue – encouraging it to remain tame.
I had just begun pondering whether I should call off cheerleading practice this afternoon. Given my luck, something serious could happen…
“Hello, Krista…come back…come back, wherever you are!” Marcus, my dramatics professor, called to me – interrupting my thoughts.
“Yikes, sorry. I missed it…” I stated, praying my words at least semi-apply to his comment.
“I said, ‘…you’re up’. I hope you’ve been studying the lines,” he said.
“I’m up what?” I responded in confusion.
“Dinah Lynn flaked on us this weekend. I could hardly understand her message, but she’s not coming back…”
“She dropped your class?” I asked, incredulously.
“She withdrew from school. So Miss Understudy, you’re it…do us proud.”
Smiling and shivering was the best I could do, by way of response. Marcus agreed to let me begin rehearsals tomorrow. I didn’t put much effort in when I tried out for this musical. I also strongly hinted that I would like to work in the background and sit this one out. I usually get some type of part and didn’t want my instructor to hand me one out of pity or obligation. Marcus made me the understudy for the lead.
Dinah Lynn is an incredible actress and singer. I didn’t give my role much consideration. History suggested that she’s a limelight hog and with her talent, front-and-center is precisely where she should be.
The other cast members clapped for my apparent triumph. Then, they went back to what they were doing while I freaked out and attempted to juggle my commitments. The screen on my phone resembled a spider’s web. I was left mainly guessing about the events on my calendar. But, I knew for sure the musical’s performances and my regional cheering competition were taking place during the same weekend.
Because my squad is the defending champions, I can request a specific timeslot. But, I will be bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball Friday-Sunday of that week.
On top of that unenviable position, I somehow need to memorize lines and know my pa
rt by tomorrow when I walk into this class. Understudies don’t have understudies. So, re-handing over the mantle is not going to be possible. When I committed to being the understudy, I gave my word to memorize the lines just like I had the part. The only time I had glanced over them though, was during drama classes and while the players were rehearsing. Now, I will have to dig in and learn them in a hurry.
I headed to the mall and dropped off my broken cell phone at the kiosk to be repaired. The guy apologetically revealed that he can’t have it back to me until tomorrow afternoon. I declined his offer to activate a loaner phone.
This Monday is actually starting to turn around. I now have a legitimate 24 hour excuse not to answer Lyle’s calls.
I ate a leisurely lunch by myself and memorized lines. A relaxing afternoon and arriving at cheerleading practice before the others, made me feel better prepared. I let everyone leave a few minutes early and they bolted for freedom.
Then, I knew cosmic justice was the real deal when I walked into the Den to work and Price practically shoved me out the door, demanding to cover my shift.
“I’m expecting someone and you can’t be here. Deidra is so hot, she’s smokin’. But, you’re not too bad either. And, that shirt you’ve got on is bill-boarding your assets. Oh please, let Deeds be wearin’ that same one…or smaller or tighter,” he informed me.
“Wait, what about Melissa?? You’re cheating…”
“Not me, her…Mel was kissing some strange guy last night when I showed up to surprise her…”
“Ouch, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. And, don’t take this the wrong way, but beat it. Deeds will be here anytime. You can have one of my shifts later this week if you need to make up the money…”
“No, you can keep what you’ve got. But let me give you a word of advice, don’t call her, “Deeds” or use any Pricely-endearing terms in reference to her body – like bill-boarding assets. I would hate to see you chasing Smoke after getting your heart crushed by Mel.
“Oh and by the way, I’m happy to hear I’m not too bad either. I exit knowing where I rate on your hotness scale. Real vote of confidence…” I stated and would have continued giving him grief, but I saw Lyle’s car at the stoplight.
I unlocked my car and ducked down until the coast was clear. My study group wasn’t scheduled to start for a few hours, but a few regulars were seated and smoking. Audrey already had her nose in the books. I wasn’t sure if she was studying early so she could vacate before my usual arrival or not. So, I chose a couch near the other side and in the corner. That way, if she does happen to be trying to avoid our encounter she can pretend to not see me.
My lines were proving more difficult to learn than I anticipated. I refused to consider that it might be the smell of pot interfering with my memory. An hour later and thoroughly engrossed in memorization, I missed it when Audrey approached.
“Hi, join me…” I offered without looking around and she gave me a puzzled look.
Unfortunately, all the seats around me were taken. In fact one girl, who was feeling no pain, was lying in my lap.
“I’ll slide over a little if she wants to sit on your left leg…” my unknown lap mate stated with a smile.
“No, it’s good. She’s an “all or nothing” type of lady,” I replied while I struggled to get to my feet and the unknown girl openly pouted. “I’m a Santa substitute tonight and didn’t notice. The smoke’s getting to my brain. Let’s go, Audrey. Comon’ – dinner’s on me…”
I had expected her to launch a protest of some type. So, I was pleasantly surprised when she nodded and followed me to my car.
“This is so embarrassing…but, would you mind if I crash at your place for another night or two. The couch I was planning to surf was already filled with two occupants,” Audrey inquired in an uncomfortable tone.
“No problem. Couch surfing is typically a one person event. Three goes well beyond maximum capacity,” I responded, lightheartedly.
“I really thought my mouth had gotten me booted from my previous digs. But apparently, lack of rental payments leaves the landlord wanting. The weed heads I was sharing the space with, didn’t even bother giving her my rent that I paid on time…”
“That really sucks. You give them a piece of your mind?”
“Nah, why bother? It’s not like I’ll ever see my money back. The only result of yelling would be to further frustrate me. An apology doesn’t quite cut it in this case.
“They’re good guys, but I knew when I moved in they were irresponsible. I was distracted when Anthony said he was collecting money because it was ‘his turn’ to pay the rent. In a way, it was partially my fault.
“I found a new place, but it’s gonna be a bit before the space is open. The campus has already repaired the formerly unlocked window in the shed I was bunking in. I saw a locksmith’s van parked beside it today. Another unauthorized move-in will have to wait until the heat’s off…”
I switched to a more casual subject until we started eating dinner. I can’t keep sneaking Audrey in every night. The walls are thin in the house. This morning Neen asked me about my terrible nightmare because according to her, I screamed loud enough to rouse her from a dead sleep. Also, my sisters are used to knocking and then, entering without waiting on my permission. I always dress in the bathroom. So, I have never had any reason to deny them access. They look to me for advice or a shoulder to cry on, all hours of the day and night. That’s why my trundle bed stays prepared and on the ready.
“Oh, do we need to swing by somewhere and pick up your bags? I remember you said something about them not being available at night,” I inquired, gently easing into the topic.
“They’re in the trunk of my friend’s car. She said I could just call her and she’d let me know where to come. I hope you don’t mind giving me a ride. I have her cell number, but she doesn’t live on campus. She works close, though…awww, she’s probably already home because she has two little kids and I’m…” Audrey rambled, nervously before I interrupted her.
“Hey, it’s all good. I’ve got gas and a road trip is the least of my worries. But, let’s just finish eating. We’ll call your friend and work out the details, after. All the ‘Hookah’ gives me the munchies…
“So, is your new apartment on campus?” I sprung the question on her and then, motioned for the waitress.
It typically helps to give a terrified deer some perceived space before being forced to answer a question. The waitress refilled our drinks and I thanked her.
“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, you were telling me all about your new apartment,” I said.
“The room I’m gonna be renting is three miles from campus. But, with four roomies that have different class schedules I should be able to catch a ride,” Audrey replied.
“Well, if you get jammed up, just call me. Oh wait, you can’t do that without my number and you can’t do that until tomorrow afternoon, anyway. My phone somehow got caught up in an adventure and shattered.”
“I heard something about that…”
“Roomies isn’t code language for weed-heads, by any chance?”
“In this case, four roomies means four strangers who live in a house together. They don’t hang out or socialize. They don’t like parties in their environment, but none seem opposed to partying, as long as it happens elsewhere.
“My four strangers said hello to me and all asked me about how I plan to pay the rent. Not a single one asked me a personal question. I sorta invented the truth about having a job. I’ve been using financial aid to keep up my bills while I’m searching. It’s hard to find a position without a permanent address. I was just beginning to consider placing a mailbox outside the shed and label it 101 ½ University Way when the idea got involuntarily nixed…” she announced with a hint of sarcastic humor.
“I’m sorry, again. I wonder how long it would’ve taken security to notice the new lawn dec
oration…”
“Less than a day…I know from experience. They make the rounds every morning between 4:10 and 4:40. Sometimes the younger security officer hides behind the building to smoke and do other unsavory things. I’ve never known anyone to need an hour long cigarette break. And, I heard strange noises coming from his smart phone…”
“I’m getting the Polaroid, no need to keep going,” I announced and made a gagging noise.
“Don’t blame you for not wanting to share in the memory. Sadly, there’s no erasing it because I was hidden between the bushes and the building on one night in particular. At least, I couldn’t see the actual performance, even though I did get to hear everything. It was either, remain still and suffer in silence or get caught. I wasn’t much inclined to get placed in handcuffs by Triple-X Barney Fife. So, I opted for permanent mental scarring and stayed incognito.”
“Oh gross, young Barney walked me to my door a few evenings ago and shook my hand. Oh please Creator, tell me he practices safe, sanitary and effective hand-washing methods.
“Well, here’s some news that will hopefully lead to a subject change. I might have a line on a job for you. I know moving is a time-consuming pain. So, when do you think you could start if I put a good word in for you?”
“I could start right away! My room won’t be ready for three weeks, but I don’t have much to move. In fact, what we pick up from Marie is everything I own…
“Don’t worry, though. I’m not asking to spend three weeks at your house. I know there’s a rule and I have other friends. I just didn’t have time, today to ask around. I need a couple of nights, at most. Or, even one might be enough. Then, I swear, I’ll be out of your hair,” she stated in a rush.
The deer was back and ready to bolt from the scene.
“It’s all good, remember? We’re talking about a job. I turned in my notice at the Java Den. It’s a great place to work. Even Price Richards, he’s the owners’ son, isn’t too obnoxious to work with, although he is a lazy slacker. You can tell him I said that. He and I have that kind of relationship…” I offered, humorously.
“His name is Price?” she responded using levity too.
That is a good sign.
“I’ve called him Price Reduced before and he really hated it – go figure? His parents are offsite owners. The manager tells them every move the employees make…with the notable exception of their son’s. I think Mavis is concerned about getting him in hot water and the awkward position that would put her in. His mom and dad live in Oregon, I believe. So, they don’t drop-in.
“But, the reason I was asking about your four strangers is the store does perform random drug testing on its employees. They have screened me a handful of times in the two years I’ve worked there. Seems addicts gravitate towards inadequately funded jobs in the caffeine sales industry. Should you too elect to labor in the exciting java world, you will have to sit at the right rear corner of the Hookah lounge, near the ceiling exhaust to study.”
“I don’t smoke anything, ever. The Hookah study group is the safest late night option available. I used to frequent the library, until I walked in on a girl getting attacked in the bathroom. The guy pummeled me so hard when he was trying to escape that I got knocked out, cold. The girl who was getting attacked didn’t even bother to see if I was okay before she fled the scene. I’m the living embodiment of the platitude…no good deed goes unpunished.
“Ya’ know I was really miffed at Old Girl for taking off. I mean, it’s not like she can pretend like nothing happened with her clothes all torn to shreds, etcetera. But, no one knows what they’ll do in that type of a situation until it happens. I couldn’t stay mad at her for long because I usually cut and run, too – if the stress is too much for me to handle. I don’t have a home or a student ID, although I do take classes at our school. She probably didn’t want the hassle of cops, questions and the sympathy stares.
“I forced myself to stay awake all night after it happened, worried that I’d slip into a coma. But, I later overheard one of our friendly Hookah football players say that his friend’s doctor told him to rest and not think about anything after he got a concussion during practice. It’s sad when I’m taking third-hand medical advice from a chemically impaired, football player. I couldn’t risk going to the school’s infirmary. I’m not the most trusting person, anyway but do-gooders, like nurse practitioners, tend to inadvertently mess up my life…” Audrey offered and glanced at me.
“All us do-gooders are hapless, but well-meaning,” I revealed, sheepishly and prepared to explain my actions. “However, I didn’t rain on your parade doing anything good. I was…”
“I know what you were attempting. And, I hate to point this out, but it doesn’t do much good to make a mad dash from a football player that got his star hung up for his ability to run.”
So, true…so, true.
Double Fated (Book One) Page 4