by Stacy M Wray
After we leave the Mexican place, we drive in a comfortable silence on our way back to LARU where my car still remains in the parking lot. Even though I keep my eyes forward, I can sense every time Braden looks my way, feeling his heated gaze. My mind shifts to the first time I got in a car with Braden – our first date when he took me to that campsite, cooking me dinner over a fire, impressing the hell out of me. I smile at the memory.
It’s dark out when we pull up to my car. When Braden turns off the engine and pulls the key from the ignition, I feel the familiar tension build again. I try to stop it by saying, “So…where’s the next photo shoot going to be?”
Still staring straight ahead out the windshield, he answers, “I’m still working on that. But I’ll let you know as soon as I have the details ironed out.” He still hasn’t looked at me so I reach for the handle on the door, getting out. His hand reaches for me, landing on my elbow, his touch sending waves of familiarity throughout my body. “Karma?”
Surprised, I turn back to him with a questioning look in my eyes. “You were right. There’s no reason why we can’t work together. I had a great time today.” Once again, I see the sadness creep into his expression and then it’s gone as fast as it arrived. “I’m glad you’re on this job – our client will be, too. I’m sure of it.”
Before I can say anything, his cell phone vibrates in the console of his car, making a noise neither of us can ignore. He quickly grabs it, glancing at the screen. “I need to take this.”
“Okay,” I tell him. “I’ll be in touch when I’ve finished editing.” And I get out quickly, hitting the button on my key fob that unlocks my car.
As I pull away, I glance at Braden, now watching me exit the parking lot.
How on earth did we end up working together?
It’s hard to ignore the old feelings, simmering just beneath the surface.
And that’s exactly where they need to stay.
chapter eight
October 2006
Just finishing the final application of mascara, I put the tube down and study myself in the mirror. Not bad, Karma. I’ve put plenty of curls in my hair and let them hang loosely, pinning up just a small section of hair at the crown.
Tonight is the homecoming dance, and I’m going with my crush from art class, Matt Heckman. Still unable to believe that he asked me, I’m excited to be going but bummed that Stella won’t be there, admitting she didn’t want to go to all the fuss of getting ready just to hang out with a friend. I guess she’s got a point.
My eyes flick to a goofy soccer ball keychain Braden gave me the other day, trying to convert me into a groupie. My finger pokes at it, causing it to roll across the top of my vanity before plunging off the side. I wonder if Braden will be there tonight, if he got asked or anyone asked him. For some reason, I never got the nerve to find out, and he never offered up any information. Isn’t that something that friends should be able to discuss?
I stand and look for my clutch, admiring my dress as I smooth it down. Stella helped me pick it out – it’s not overly fancy since homecoming is less formal than prom. It’s a simple, classy blush color that skims over my body and has a flared ruffle around my knees. I fell in love with it on the hanger and loved it even more when I tried it on.
The sound of the doorbell releases me from my thoughts as I begin the descent down the stairs. My parents are introducing themselves to Matt as I enter the room, my mom giving me a ‘thumbs-up’ when Matt’s not looking. He looks handsome in the dark gray suit he’s wearing and when our eyes finally meet, he gives me a warm smile, making me feel a little better about the night ahead.
After a few pictures, my parents send us on our way and tell us to have a great time. Matt looks at me as we’re walking down the sidewalk to his car and says, “You look great, Karma.”
He opens the car door for me, his eyes skimming the length of my body. “Thanks. You too, Matt.” Giving me a smirk, he walks around to the driver’s side and gets in.
On the drive over, it feels awkward in the car and my excitement that I’ve had the past couple of weeks fails to match my mood tonight. I tell myself that we just need to get to know each other a little better, but when I look over at him, he doesn’t even notice. Just as I’m about to get him to talk, his cell phone rings and he puts it to his ear. I turn my attention to my window, somehow finding it much more interesting.
* * *
The dance is in full swing when we arrive. We make our way inside, and I wish Stella would surprise me, showing up after all. Matt tells me he needs to talk to someone really quick and leaves me standing by myself. Not knowing what else to do, I retrieve my phone from my clutch and text Stella.
Me: Not having the best time. Wish you were here.
Stella: What? What’s going on?
Me: Idk. He just isn’t what I thought he’d be.
Stella: I’m sorry
I stuff my phone in my bag and feel someone’s hand on my lower back. Turning around, I see Braden’s face with that beautiful smile, putting me at ease instantly. “Hey.” His eyes travel down my body, lingering at times, and then back to meet my eyes. “You look beautiful, Karma.”
He makes me feel beautiful with his words. His eyes are soft and shiny as they remain locked on mine, making me wish we’d gone together. Friends pair up for school dances all the time, right? “Thanks, Braden.” I look around for a minute and ask him, “Where’s your date?”
He gives me a knowing look and says, “I could ask you the same thing.”
Being a little embarrassed my date left me alone, I say, “He’ll be right back.” But before he can say anything, Lorie appears at his side.
My heart sinks. I had no idea he was bringing her to the dance, one more reason the night just seemed to take a nosedive. She looks like she just stepped out of a magazine, instantly causing the little high from Braden’s words to dissipate quickly. With her blond hair in an updo from a swanky salon, she looks like most girls here tonight. Glitzy, expensive dresses surround us, Lorie fitting right in. She tosses me a triumphant grin.
“Ready to dance?” she asks him, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Yeah,” but his eyes never leave mine. She tugs him away and leads him to the dance floor. A slow song plays and I watch him pull her into him, her arms draped around his neck. I can no longer watch, wishing I could just go home.
Why does that affect me so much and where in the hell is Matt?
Just as I start to look around for him, he walks up to me. Suddenly, his good looks have dissolved. Putting his mouth to my ear, he says, “A friend of mine’s having a party. Most of my friends are there already. Wanna go?”
My eyes dart to Braden and Lorie on the dance floor. “I guess.” I say it with a little bite and he picks up on it.
“You don’t want to go?”
“It’s fine. We can go.” He smiles and takes my hand, leading me to the entrance we came in earlier. I glance one more time at Braden before I leave, and he watches me with a frown on his face. I immediately look away, tugged along by Matt.
We arrive at his friend’s house, cars parked everywhere. I feel like it’s a bad idea. Walking in the front entrance, the music blares and kids are everywhere. Matt leads us into the kitchen where the alcohol is flowing freely.
Matt asks what kind of shot I want. “I don’t want a shot.”
He studies me for a minute, then shrugs, and says, “Whatever.” He downs two shots of vodka and then tries again. “Come on, just one shot.”
I shake my head and say, “I’ll just take a beer.” Giving me a look like I’m a big stick in the mud, he grabs me a beer and hands it to me. “Thanks,” I mumble.
I find a seat at the kitchen bar while Matt continues to knock back more shots. Some girl starts up a conversation with me, and I figure it’s the best part of my night…she’s funny. Okay…and drunk. She’s trying to tell me about a guy she met while dancing, her words in a continuous slur as she grabs the edge of th
e counter to keep her balance. Losing her train of thought, she continually wipes her brow, now heavy with perspiration. Her bottom eyelashes leave a black trail where her mascara has been smudged. She’s entertaining as hell.
After a bit, Matt comes and takes my hand, tugging me behind him. “Come here – I need to show you something.” Before I can protest, we’re walking downstairs. It’s not lost on me that he staggers clumsily down the steps.
“What’s down here, Matt?”
He looks over at me with a cocky grin and stops at the end of the hallway, pressing me up against the wall. His mouth slams over mine, and I’m not enjoying the kiss at all. I shove him back to stop him, but his hands travel up my sides and my shove does nothing to stop his advances. I jerk my head sideways and abruptly stop him from kissing me anymore. “Get the fuck off me.”
He stops, probing me with venom in his eyes. “Why are you being such a bitch?” He steps back with his hands up defensively.
“Why are you being such an asshole?”
He smirks and says, “You know, I thought you were going to be a lot more fun. Guess I had you pegged wrong.”
Saying through clenched teeth, I tell him, “I know I had you pegged wrong.” And I don’t stick around to hear his response.
Fury spreads through me as I climb the steps two at a time. Making my way through the sweaty bodies, permeating with the stench of alcohol, I notice Drunk Girl in the kitchen telling her story to another willing ear. As I reach the door, I pull my phone from my clutch and call Stella before the door has even closed, the blaring music now muffled noise.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Can you come get me?” I’m so mad I’m about to cry, and Stella’s voice almost pushes me over the edge. But I manage to swallow the lump in my throat.
“What’d that asshole do, Karma? Forget it – you can fill me in on the way home. What’s the address?” I give her the address but walk a couple of houses down so no one notices me out here.
As I’m waiting for Stella, I think about how wrong I was about Matt, and how I should never have gone out with him knowing nothing about him except he was cute. I have never made such a bad judgment call in my life and it has me questioning everything.
When I see Stella’s car approaching, I walk back down in front of the house and get in. “I’m going to kill that little prick,” she says. “Start talking.”
Filling her in on my horrible evening right down to the part where Matt pinned me up against the wall, Stella says, “I can have someone hurt him.”
I look over at her in disbelief. “What? No, Stella, I don’t want anyone to hurt him. I just want to put tonight behind me and forget the whole thing ever happened.”
She glances over at me with a small smile on her face. “Not even just a little bit?” And I have to laugh. Leave it to Stella to have me laughing within ten minutes after a night like I just had.
* * *
The following Monday at school, I dread my yearbook period so much because of Matt. I just want to pretend that night never happened and move on.
When I get to my first period, I notice Braden hanging at the door, and he lights up when he sees me. My heart skips a beat, and I realize this happens more than I’d like to admit. “Hey. How was your weekend?”
“Fine. How was yours?” We’re way too polite…it’s kind of weird.
His eyes search my face but for what, I don’t know. “Alright.” He hesitates before asking his next question. “Did you have fun Saturday night?” He doesn’t sound like he wants to hear the answer.
I go with honesty instead of trying to pretend I had a great time. “Not really.” But I don’t ask him if he did because I don’t want to know what kind of time he had with Lorie.
His eyebrows lift in surprise, and I can’t help but notice he’s pleased with my answer. “Why did you guys leave so early?”
I shrug, not wanting to go into the reasons right here. “I don’t want to talk about it, Braden.” My eyes look down the hall to avoid looking into his eyes. I don’t want him to see my disappointment.
He immediately stiffens and asks, “What do you mean?” And the bell rings, forcing us inside the classroom.
I catch Braden looking back at me throughout class. I should’ve known my answer wouldn’t sit well with him.
When class ends, Braden walks me to my locker. I’m just waiting for his interrogation. He stares at me while I exchange my books, but I don’t make eye contact. “What did you mean, Karma? Did something happen?”
I sigh heavily, saying, “Nothing that I couldn’t handle. It just didn’t turn out to be fun, Braden, and let’s just leave it at that.”
His jaw tenses and he says, “So help me, if that – ”
“Everything’s fine, Braden. Please just drop it. Don’t you have a game Wednesday?”
He scratches the back of his head while frowning. “Um, yeah. Since when are you interested in my games?”
I shut my locker and head toward my next class with Braden strolling beside me. “Since I’ll be taking pictures of it.” I see his face brighten with his smile. Seeing him happy makes my Saturday night disaster melt away.
The bell rings again and he takes off in a sprint to his class, yelling over his shoulder he’ll see me at lunch.
My next couple of classes pass quickly, and I stop in the bathroom before heading to the cafeteria. I’m just about to leave my stall when I hear a couple of girls talking. I freeze when I hear my name mentioned.
Through the slit of the door, I see them both applying lip gloss, watching each other through the mirror as they talk.
“Did you hear about Randy’s party? Everyone was hooking up in the basement.”
“I know. Steven and Cindy. Justin and Susie. Todd and Mandi.” She holds up three fingers as she counts off the couples. “Oh…and I saw Matt and Karma go downstairs. Apparently he screwed her and it was the lousiest lay ever.”
I can’t believe what I’ve just heard and now my feet won’t move…I’m too humiliated to leave this stall. I don’t make a sound, hoping they go away. My heart beats so loud that I’m afraid they can hear it on the other side of the door. My hand slowly covers my chest hoping to muffle the sound.
That son of a bitch!
After gossiping about some other couples, they finish primping and leave the restroom. Silence fills the small room once again. Tears sting the back of my eyes. I know how rumors can fly around, and I’ve done nothing to tarnish my reputation. I’m a virgin for crying out loud!
I finally leave my stall, washing my hands in the white porcelain sink and head to the cafeteria, determined to keep my head up. I make it through the lunch line, putting a salad and milk on my tray, but I can hear whispers and see the judgmental looks on everyone’s faces. I make the walk to my table but I can’t stay – my tears are about to escape, and I have to get out of here.
I drop my tray on the table and walk briskly to the doors, passing Braden on the way out.
God, Braden, please don’t follow me.
Thank god the halls are empty, and I run down the corridor, hearing footsteps behind me. I turn the corner and stop, leaning up against a locker. Braden appears in front of me, his expression tight.
“Is it true?” Apparently he’s heard. His jaw tenses, his mouth in a hard line.
I slowly shake my head. The tears I’ve been suppressing escape, sliding over the slope of my cheeks. I can’t believe he could believe the rumors.
His body relaxes, the fists at his side slowly unfurl. “What happened?”
I slide my body down the locker, sitting on my behind. Braden sits down beside me, the heat from his stare persuading me to spill.
“He tried and I turned him down. Guess his ego couldn’t take the rejection.” On a scale of one to ten, the humiliation I’m experiencing right now is about an eleven.
Shaking his head, he says, “I’m gonna kick that little shit’s ass.” Anger pours off of him, his breaths becoming rushed.
His face screws up into a scowl. “He’s not going to get away with it. I. Will. Fix. This.”
I stare at him, willing him to drop it.
We sit in silence, the air between us heavy. His fingers graze mine as we both stare at the over-waxed linoleum floor, the light reflecting from the harsh overhead fluorescent bulbs. How can such a small action cause my body to take notice? “I think you’ve just proved how utterly flawed your theory is about the types of guys you want to date.”
I bump my head on the locker behind me. “I think you’re right.”
He reaches for my hand, entwining our fingers. “Are you okay?”
Releasing a huge sigh, I close my eyes, wanting to start this day all over again. “I will be.”
As we continue to sit there, I’m noticeably conscious of his fingers wrapped around mine. I’m also noticeably conscious of how good it feels. Safe. He makes me feel comfortable and safe. The humiliation I experienced earlier starts to slowly melt away.
The warning bell rings, and I let out a huge groan, knowing I have to head to yearbook, my class with Matt. I just want to stay here for a little while longer. But the hall fills up with students, forcing Braden and me to stand.
He releases my hand, and I want nothing more than to clamp them back together. What is wrong with me? This is Braden, my childhood friend.
Braden turns to me, his jaw set, his lips pressed together. “I will fix this, Karma.” I start to say something and he interjects, “No fists will be involved, okay? Promise.”
We reluctantly go our separate ways to our next class, mine being the class from hell now.
The time I just spent with Braden gives me the courage to approach Matt’s table, but that coward won’t look me in the eye. I stand before him so long that he’s finally forced to look up, but he doesn’t say anything, and I can’t read what’s going on with him either. Regret? Satisfaction? Complacency?
“You actually don’t have anything to say to me right now?” Now I’m just burning mad, and my tears have been long forgotten. He continues to look at me, not saying a word. “You’re a lying sack of shit. I can’t believe the lengths you’ll go to when someone turns you down.” Still nothing. I turn and take my seat, trying to calm myself down. But man, did that feel good.