About fifteen minutes later he settles back in, facing me. "Patty melt was a good choice," he commends me as he squirts ketchup in a zig-zag pattern across his fries.
"So, you're one of those people," I accuse him, grinning.
He looks up at me startled and confused. "What kind of those people am I exactly?" He sets the ketchup bottle back down in front of me.
Smiling, I explain, "One of those people that squirts their ketchup all over the fries instead of dipping them in ketchup."
He gives me a big grin. "Oh yeah," he proclaims proudly. "I am definitely one of those people. A. You get just the right amount of ketchup on every fry. And B. It's really fun to squirt ketchup all over the place."
I laugh and nod my head. "Fair enough," I reply, before I take a big bite of my sandwich. "Mmm," I moan after a few bites. "This is so good. I definitely feel better. This must be why people eat their feelings."
He wipes his mouth and stops eating. He studies me and asks, "What's up? What has you feeling down?"
I freeze with my mouth open ready to take another monster bite. I did not mean to let those words slip. The food made me drunk. I set my melt down. "Um." I stare down at my plate. "It's a Todd thing. Turns out everyone was right and I'm an idiot," I proclaim, my breath becoming uneven and tears springing in my eyes. Justin's face immediately turns sympathetic.
"You are not an idiot, Todd is. Amelia, I’m serious." He reaches for my hand and I let him hold it. "Look at me," he demands firmly. I lift my chin and look at his stern face. "I don't know what happened but I'm 100% sure it was nothing you did. You–you are so beautiful, Amelia, inside and out. If he can't see that and appreciate who you are, then he doesn't deserve you."
I nod my head and sniff. I take my hand back to wipe my eyes. "Sorry to let that slip out during your lunch break. I'm sure you don't want to deal with my mess."
He grins. "Amelia, I like your mess. I care about you, and I like it when you come here. I want to see you, and get to know you better. I want to spend more time with you," he admits confidently.
I look at him through my puffy eyes. "You're so sweet. I think it'd be good for me to get out more before I head back to school. Thanks, Justin. I really need to get my mind off things." I attempt to give him an encouraging smile.
After we finish eating I putz around on my computer wasting time. Justin brings me a vanilla milkshake that makes me happier than my patty melt. I finally start working on editing photos for a while until I reach the photo I took over a month ago of Todd's hand laying on top of the desk at work. I stare it for far too long until I feel my eyes filling up, and my vision get blurry. I snap the computer closed and storm out. I wait until I'm alone in my car to sob at my naivety.
35
–– Todd ––
"Uh, hi, Mrs...." I pause awkwardly because, like a jackass, I've forgotten the name of Amelia's favorite customer. Oh, and Becky's aunt.
She gives me a tight smile and announces," Jacobson. Mrs. Jacobson." She looks me over, and I notice some kind of spark in her eye. She doesn't hate me. She's amused by me. I suddenly feel like a child.
"Um, I was just looking––"
"Todd! Hi! I'm so glad you called," Becky calls as she bounces down the large staircase.
I look back at Mrs. Jacobson who raises one eyebrow at me. Before she turns around completely she tells me, "You're an idiot."
I murmur, "I know."
She's walking away just as Becky flings herself on me as she tends to do. Her big hair clouds my face, almost making me sneeze. I quickly pull her arms down and away from me. I place them back at her sides.
"Hey, what's wrong, Baby?" She moves her arms up, and I stop them midair.
I put my hands on her shoulders, and lean down to look in her eyes. "Becky, I need you to listen to me, really listen to me. We are not together. I don't have feelings for you. I don't want to date you. I'm sorry to have led you on, but I need you to understand that we are not an item. In fact, I'm in love with someone else."
Her eyes go from watery to raging in about two seconds. The slap comes even faster. And harder. Her palm hitting my cheek makes a loud noise that echoes throughout the massive entryway.
"How dare you lead me on like that! You’re a pig!" She goes on a tirade, pushing my chest hard enough for me to step back. Then she just starts wailing on me, slapping at my arms as I try to protect my face.
"Okay, okay. That's enough." I back away from her just long enough to lunge for the door.
I'm already out when she screams, "Get out of here, asshole, and don't come back!"
"I don't plan on it," I mutter to myself as I get on my bike, forgetting the helmet so I can get the hell out.
The air flows through my hair and I feel a huge relief, but nervous because now...now I have to go get my girl back.
Okay, just go in there and spill your heart out.
I try pumping myself up before I walk through those double glass doors into Mr. Jimmy Frank's Framing and Photography Studio. I stare at the sign above the doors. It's old but homey feeling. I shake my head and try to focus.
She doesn't hate you. She's reasonable. She'll listen. She loves you. And you love her. It has to work out.
With a deep breath I walk through the door and she immediately stands up, smiling ready to greet whatever customer comes through the door, just like she always does. Her smile quickly drops and if I didn't know better I'd say a flash of fear passes her eyes. I close the door quietly so the bells don't ring.
"What are you doing here?" She asks, straight faced.
I can't help but look her over as she steps out from behind the desk. She's wearing tight black jeans that I'm sure her parents wouldn't approve of because her ass looks incredible. Then again, it always does. Her royal blue top looks like it was made in the fifties, with cuffed short sleeves and buttons. She's perfect.
"Amelia, I have to explain to you what that was––"
"No, Todd, you really don't. I don't need to hear it." She looks and sounds exhausted, not angry like I thought she'd be. It confuses me, and I don't like it. "I get it. I was naive to think that this was anything serious. We were never supposed to actually be together so, I mean...I guess I can't blame you. I got myself into this mess. I knew your reputation and that's why I needed your help in the first place." She looks at me like she knows we're over and like she's played this conversation in her head multiple times. She's wrong.
"No, no, no, no," I fire off quickly. "It was real, Amelia." I immediately curse myself for using past tense. "It is real. That bullshit you saw was not real. I don't have anything to do with her anymore. I told her before that it was over, and she just didn't get it through her head or something, I don't know. Amelia, please believe me. I haven't been with Becky since before we were together––for-real together. Please don't play this off like it was never real, like you never had feelings for me." Words come out of my mouth, and I don't know if it's coherent at all. I'm desperate. I can see her big eyes watering behind her adorable glasses. The lump in my throat grows bigger. She's completely defeated. She's killing us. She shakes her head.
"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Summer is almost over. I'm going back to school, and we can just put this all behind us. I used you and I got what I needed. That's all there is to it. In a couple months when I'm gone, you won't even think about me. That was the plan all along." She wipes a tear that escaped.
"Bullshit, Amelia, don't say that." My voice cracks. More tears trickle down her face. "I–"
She shakes her head adamantly. "Don't. It's over and none of it matters. Please," she begs me.
"It fucking matters to me. I'm falling in love you with you. I love you, Amelia. Don't do this." I choke on my words. My chest tightens and I'll be damned when my eyes sting with fear. She's full on crying, and I start to go to her but she takes a step back.
"Please, just leave. Our agreement is over and that's that. You can go back to your life and sleep with whomever you want.
"
"I don't want to sleep with whomever I want! I want to sleep with you."
"I knew it! I knew it was all just a big game you went along with so you could get in my pants. I'm so glad I never slept with you." Her words slap me in a way I've never felt. She takes a deep breath and I know this is the last nail in the coffin. "Please go, Todd. I don't want to see you anymore. Just go." She looks away and moves behind her desk.
I feel gutted. Destroyed. My chest is too tight, and the lump in my throat too large, for me to speak anymore. I turn and walk out the door, the damn fucking bells jingling behind me.
36
–– Amelia ––
The second the door closes behind him, I let out a loud sob and completely break down. I practiced and practiced that conversation in my head, even in front of the mirror last night. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever. I needed to end things, his actions made that clear. The entire thing was unrealistic, and we never would have worked out. I was lost in this bubble of lust and love and...newness. The bubble popped abruptly when I saw Becky and her big blonde hair all over Todd's body like she knew it so well. Becky With The Good. Fucking. Hair. I pound my fist on the desk, which only hurts me more and makes me cry harder.
He said he was falling in love with me. I don't know if I believe him. It sounded so real but it's because this whole time I've wanted it to be real. I've been delusional and it has bit me in the ass. It freaking hurts. All those times I wanted to give him my body...he was just playing his game. I'm so glad I didn't have sex with him, I meant that when I said it. I take a deep breath in and out and wipe the rest of my tears.
I agonize over the next few hours, flipping between photos I'm editing and the photo of Todd's hands. For something I did spur of the moment, it's pretty striking. I've been itching to edit it ever since I saw it. I groan and give in. I already miss him and I hate that I do.
"I can't believe it!" My heart fills with warmth for the first time since before Todd and I last spoke at the studio. I thought the feeling of missing him would decrease at least a little by now, but it hasn't. I am able to keep up appearances, and I only allow myself to cry when I'm alone in my room, but I'm angry at him for playing me. I'm angry with myself for being angry at him, because I knew what I was getting into and still got played. Spending time with Justin, like I am now, has been a great distraction.
"I was hoping you'd be excited. I know you hadn't talked too much about art shows, but I thought this would be a great way to showcase your photography to the locals," Justin explains.
We're sitting across from each other like we have been every day this week. We talk about anything and everything. Occasionally, he'll even let me talk about Todd, which I try not to do too often.
"It's so sweet of you to put this together. I'm already nervous!" Justin convinced The Diner to host an art show to exhibit my work. They were sold on the idea once Justin said that we would paint the walls (that desperately need to be painted) in exchange for them hosting the event. My artwork will look better on clean, white walls anyway, so it's a win-win.
"You have nothing to be nervous about. Your art speaks for itself. Want to start painting tomorrow night after we close? I don't think it will take too long with the both of us, maybe two nights." He grins and raises his eyebrows, anticipating my response. I can't help but smile back at him.
"Yes! I'll go get the paint and supplies today and I'll come back right before closing." His lunch break is almost over and like clockwork, we both start to get up at the same time.
"I'll handle the check. Text me if you need help with any of the supplies and I can probably sneak out early."
"You don't have to pay for my lunch, Justin." I tell him this almost every day and he insists on paying for my food every time. "I promise to text you if I need help, but I should be fine."
We hug each other goodbye, always lingering slightly longer every time we hug. I'm waiting for him to make a move and kiss me on the cheek but he hasn't yet. Even if he did I don't know how I would feel about it. I've liked him for so long and I love spending time with him, but I'm still hung up on Todd.
He releases me slowly. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"Will do," I affirm as I start to walk away. "Thank you!" I turn to leave The Diner with a bright grin, and a heart that's warmer than it has been for over a week.
37
–– Todd ––
I walk through my unlocked front door to find an empty house. That idiot Al didn't lock the fucking door. In our neighborhood that's major mistake. Not that there's much to steal other than the TV and the case of Budweiser in the fridge. I slam the door behind me and walk to the kitchen, starting the nightly routine I've been doing for over a week, since Amelia dumped my ass. I don't bother eating dinner, I just grab a beer like it's my salvation. In a way it is. I crack open the lid and chug it down until it's gone. Then I crush the can in my hand and toss it in the trash.
I go to open the cabinet under the sink, but it sticks. I pull hard until it gives. Waiting for me is a bottle of Johnnie Walker, right where I left it. I had to hide it since Al would drink the bottle in one night. I've at least managed to make it last for three days. I hold up the bottle to see where the amber liquid is. It's nearly empty, so I pour a large glass to empty the bottle. I take a gulp and the burn feels so good going down. I grab three more Budweisers from the fridge, then head to my room.
I kick open my door and it smells like stale beer. I don't have a trash can so I've just been throwing my cans in empty grocery bags in the room. I look around and notice the brown bags, jeans, and at least three shirts on the floor. I sigh and crack open another. I peel off my dirty work clothes, adding them to the pile of clothes strewn about the carpet. I grab the beer and head to my shower, leaving the glass of whiskey on my small desk.
I climb in the hot shower, setting my beer on the side by my shampoo. I let the water fall down and consume me. My thoughts always go to Amelia. When I close my eyes she's the only thing I see. I lose myself in her every night when I come home and shower. I close my eyes and remember gripping her ass while she came on top of me. I stroke myself and tilt my head back. I can almost taste her pussy in my mouth and feel her soft hand pumping up and down on my cock. I groan and work myself faster. I imagine being the first one to be deep inside her and what it would feel like to have her tight pussy climax around my cock. I groan louder until my come eventually falls to the shower floor and sinks slowly down the drain. I grab my beer, finish it as the water still washes over my back, then toss the can out of the shower.
After my shower, I drink my tall glass of Johnnie Walker and my final beer until I pass out wearing nothing but my towel. Every night it's the same thing. Every. Single. Night.
I decide to stay late at the shop to work on my car. Thankfully, my boss, Roger trusts me enough to work alone and close up shop. When I finally decide to stop, I crawl out from under the car, and my body wails from working so long today. I grab my rag to wipe my hands off, but looking down, I notice they're nearly completely black. A lost cause. My stomach growls and I realize I haven't eaten since lunch, eight hours ago.
After I clean up and lock everything down, I throw on my leather jacket and take off on my motorcycle, the exhaust shouting in my wake. The cool, night air blowing into me and through my hair has me feeling the best I have in over a week. If I wasn't starving, I'd stay out for a while and enjoy a late night ride. I can't remember what time The Café closes but I hope to get there in time. Otherwise it'll be beer for dinner, back at the house with Al, and stale pizza if I'm lucky.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the soft glow coming from The Café’s windows. It looks open, with a couple of people milling about. I slow down, and turn into the parking lot. My heart drops from my chest when I see Amelia's car is one of the only two in the parking lot. My eyebrows push together as I try to figure out what's going on. I idle on my bike and squint my eyes to take a good look at what's going on inside. I see Ameli
a in paint-splattered overalls, with a paint roller hanging haphazardly in her hand as she talks. Then my eyes move to Justin who is painting the wall in front of them, smiling. He must say something funny because Amelia tilts her head back and laughs, and I swear to God I can hear it plain as day. It echoes through my head, but instead of her sweet laugh filling me with a love I can't even begin to explain, it taunts me because in this moment it feels like she's laughing at me and not with me.
I can't peel out of the parking lot fast enough, leaving my heart behind with a woman who no longer wants it.
38
–– Amelia ––
"Hey, did you hear that?" I call out to Justin over the music playing. My smile quickly dissipates. My heart flops and goosebumps break out all over my skin. This happens every time I hear a motorcycle zooming down the street. I tell myself not to look for the noise, but I can't help myself. Just like I can't help the spark of hope that’s relit every time I'm in my bedroom and hear a bike drive down our street. I've finally stopped racing to my window. It's never him. I look out The Diner windows, but only see the dark night. It will never be him.
"Hear what?" Justin answers, looking at me questioningly. He's been way more focused on painting this wall than I have.
"I swear I heard Todd's–never mind. Sorry, it must just be getting late." I take a deep breath and go back to painting the wall. I don't know why I get so disappointed. I'm the one that told him to go away. I'm the one that told him my feelings weren't real even though I've never felt anything more real in my entire life.
Wrong Place, Right Time Page 18