Stupid Girl

by Cindy Miles

  Tessa’s blue gaze narrowed and bore into mine. Several seconds ticked by. “That’s the most retarded thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Text him back. Cancel. Here, I’ll do it. Give me your phone.” She reached for it.

  “No, Tessa, it’s okay. Seriously.” Palming my phone to keep it safe, I shook my head. Then I studied her, and gave a hesitant smile. “Have we known each other for less than a day, or has it been a lot, lot longer?”

  A small hint of surrender tugged at Tessa’s mouth. “Seems like a lot longer.” Now she regarded me with a critical eye. “I still think it’s a big mistake. Epic. At the very least, please ask him for his medical papers. That famous dick of his has seen a lot of action, Liv. No telling where it’s been.” She frowned. “Cold hard truth: He wants in your bloomers. Ring or no ring. Game on. Nothing more.” She took in a long breath. “His brain … he thinks with his big, ole, egotistical wiener. All guys do. It leads Brax Jenkins around like a magical porn radar wand. It has now honed in on your virginal hands-off hootchie cootchie. Guard it well, chica. He’ll snatch it right out from under you like a fucking bandito if you don’t.”

  I sat and stared at my roommate for several seconds in shock before bursting into laughter. I fell over onto my side, buried my face in my pillow, and howled. I couldn’t stop! I hadn’t laughed that much with anyone, except my family, since … I couldn’t remember when. A long time. Finally, I peeked out. At first, Tessa just stared back, frowning, but then she, too, broke. We laughed until we both cried. Where did she come up with this stuff? Magical porn radar wiener wand? How would I now look Brax in the face and not burst out laughing just thinking about everything Tessa just said?

  Finally, she rolled off my bed and changed into a pair of shorts and an oversized High School Musical tee shirt. She plopped down onto her bed and pulled her long hair into a floppy ball on the top of her head. It slid crooked, but she ignored it. Now she was again totally focused on me, and serious.

  “All joking aside, Olivia. I know we’ve only just met, but I like you. You’re a little weird, but I like you. And as a girl, roommate, and sister female struggling to make it in this hounddog guy world, please. Watch Braxton Jenkins with both eyes wide open. Don’t blink, not even for a second. I don’t know him personally, only what I’ve told you, and that’s been enough for me to keep clear of him. Don’t let him get to you. You’ll only get hurt in the end.” She eyed my ring. “And as far as that goes, it might represent a vow to you. But to guys like Brax?” She sighed. “A beacon. Guard you hootchie cootchie, sí, but guard your heart as well.”

  I nodded. And I knew she was right. “I will, I promise.”

  Tessa narrowed her eyes. “You gave him the knee to the cahones, huh? Pretty cool. But I think we need a code word. A safe word, maybe. In case things get out of hand and you need me to rescue you, or visa versa. Even just to put your self at ease in an uncomfortable situation. You can think of it and it’ll make you feel better. Or text it to me, along with a location.”

  I pulled my towel turban off, and shook my damp hair loose. “I’m sure he’ll keep his magical porn radar wand to himself, and I seriously doubt I’ll need a safe word, but okay. It’s nice to know you’ll come screeching around the corner in your little Jetta to save me. Or at least make me feel better. What’s the word?”

  Tessa put her hands on her hips and scowled. “I could just use your big old Army tank truck out there and run Brax’s cocky ass over with it,” she said. She tapped her forefinger to her temple, and paced our small dorm room. “Hmm. Let me think. Safe word. Safe word.” After a few moments, she stopped, snapped her fingers, and her face lit up. “Got it. Nutcracker!”

  I grabbed my wide-toothed comb from my bedside table and pushed it through my hair, eyeing Tessa. “Okay. Nutcracker it is. Safe word. Got it.”

  “Good. Don’t forget it. I swear it’ll work. Now I’ve gotta get some sleep. I promised I’d meet my parents at sixfuckingshootme o’clock in the morning to go to Cole’s baseball game—out of season, might I add. If I don’t rest, I’ll be a total bitch the whole day. Plus, Brax is pitching. I’ll keep my eye on the horn dog. ’Night, Liv.” She clicked her lamp off and shuffled under the covers.

  “’Night, Tessa,’ I answered. I turned my lamp off, too, and tried to go to sleep. Instead, I laid there, thinking, my mind wandering aimlessly around.

  My first night, on my own, away from home. New sounds, new job, new people.

  One new person in particular. Completely unexpected.

  Brax’s image crept into my mind, behind my eyelids, and there he was, almost as if I was holding up a picture of him in the dark. I could see him plain as day, looking down at me with those ghostly blue eyes as I lay on my back in the grass. Those eyes, that unusual scarred face. And those perfect lips cradling mine for a nanosecond. His crude but funny accent. His painful expression as my knee connected with his family jewels. The whole day flashed before me then, from the moment I left my home, until Tessa clicked off her lamp. Especially all the stuff in between. Just then my phone vibrated, and it startled me. I grabbed it off my nightstand.

  SOUTHIE flashed in the window. Guilt, like I’d been caught doing something wrong, pinched my insides. Guilt for what? Thinking about him? Maybe he’d had time to think about it—about me, and was canceling.

  I flipped open the phone, and the green backlight made me squint. I blinked a few times, braced myself for his rejection, then focused on the words.

  Brax: Did you change your mind yet?

  He wasn’t rejecting me. He hadn’t changed his mind. This was so crazy.

  Me: Yes. Just now. After you woke me up.

  Brax: Liar. You weren’t asleep sweetheart. You were lying there thinking about me. And my charm. And that kiss. So are we still on?

  Me: I’m not convinced Winston is large enough to contain your ego. I had lights out and was trying to go to sleep. Yes, we’re still on. Unless you wake me up again.

  Brax: Winston held my ego last semester. It’s cool. Glad to hear you haven’t chickened out on me. What are you wearin’?

  Me: I think your ego grows daily. I’m anything but a chicken. And only stalkers and weirdos ask girls they’ve just met what they’re wearing at one in the morning.

  Brax: Your scientist cowgirl mind is in the fuckin gutter, Gracie, which interests me. What I meant was, what are you wearin’ tomorrow. Not a chicken, you say? That gives me things to think about.

  Fahkin’ gutta. His accent, even in text, rang heavy in my ears. Strangely enough, it brought a smile to my lips.

  Me: Sorry. I’ll try to keep my mind out of the gutta. Jeans and blouse. Don’t think about my non-chickeny ways, please. Ever.

  Brax: You makin fun of my southie, Gracie? I like that. Blouse? Who are you, I Love Fuckin Lucy?

  A giggle squeaked past my lips, and I slapped my free hand over my mouth to stifle it. My eyes shot to Tessa’s side of the room, and I listened. Still asleep.

  Me: Yeah, I wear blouses. Why, is there a dress code?

  Brax: No code, just curious. Haven’t heard the word blouse since 1940. Right along with swell. Now go to bed. Stop texting me in the middle of the night, Gracie, for Christ’s sake. I gotta pitch tomorrow.

  Me: You mean today. Happy pitching. ’Night Brax.

  Brax: I’m impressed. Happy pitching vs Good luck. I like that. Cuz it ain’t luck, I promise you. Wicked skill. ’Night, Gracie.

  Me: Ego. Epic. ’Night.

  I closed my phone and set it aside, and stared at the ceiling in the dark. A smile tugged at my mouth. God, he was crude. But funny. The way I clicked with him left me speechless. Like Tessa, had I only known him for a day? I had to wonder, though, how many other girls he’d texted before he’d reached my name. Okay. Damn. He was charming. And I’d be lying to say his promises of kisses and more wasn’t just plain sexy.

  Get a grip, Beaumont. Remember. He’s a player. This is what he does. He’s probably been up half the night texting a dozen other girl
s and flirting their panties off. Buck up and get real. Or do you need a reminder of what kind of harm guys really can do to girls?

  After that thorough scolding from my inner self, I sighed, kicked the covers off because I was a little warm in the room, and closed my eyes. My inner self, and Tessa, was right. Jesus, don’t let Brax Jenkins get under my skin. Take him at face value as a womanizer. It doesn’t make him a bad person. Just don’t let your heart get involved. You’re not special, Olivia. You’re just another challenge. Keep it friends-only, and you’ll be safe. You’ve got plans. Remember? Plans that don’t include mending a broken heart over some university loverboy.

  With that last inner self advice, even though I thought it a bit harsh, I felt my lids grow heavy, and I drifted off to sleep.

  It felt as if I’d only been asleep ten minutes when Tessa’s alarm clock from her iPhone screeched. In the dark I heard Tessa as she fumbled around for the phone, knocked it on the floor, and grumbled.

  “Jesus God!” she griped. “Sorry, Liv.”

  My eyes felt gritty, but I was used to getting up early. Just not used to being kept up until three in the morning. “It’s okay, I’m awake.”

  “Why? It’s only sixsshutthefuckinroosterup o’clock in the morning.” She yawned and flipped on her light. I squinted over at her. The floppy ball on her head was down by her ear. “You got something going on?” she asked.

  I stretched and sat up. “No. I’m going to go up to the rooftop and check out the pre-dawn celestial view with my scope.”

  Tessa stopped pulling her hair loose from the ball, shook it out, and stared at me. “That’s the weirdest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Ever.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay Tessa. I’m a Geek and proud of it.”

  “You’re not a Geek. You’re a weirdo freak of nature. Go back to bed.”

  Already wearing a pair of plaid boxers, I pulled a long-sleeved tee over my head, a pair of socks, and my boots. I grabbed my telescope bag, stood and grinned. “See ya—”

  The flash from Tessa’s iPhone camera went off, making me squint. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Tessa grinned. “Classic dork Geek in plaid shorts and cowboy boots? I’ll show this to Brax today. You’ll be safe, then, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Nutcracker!” I hollered.

  Tessa busted out laughing.

  I grabbed a wrench from my toolbox, left my roommate and slipped out into the still-quiet corridor. I made my way to the stairs and climbed to the rooftop exit. Outside, the air hung heavy with humidity, like a sopping wet blanket draped over me. From past rooftop experiences, I knew I’d better stick something in the doorway, just in case it locked behind me. I jammed the wrench between the door and jamb on the ground, and found a clearing not too far from the exit. Quickly, as the darkness was fading fast, I set up my pod and attached my scope. The pre-dawn sky was breathtaking; stars littered the heavens, and I zoomed in on several. The thought crossed my mind: What would Brax think of it?

  I pulled my eye from the scope and shook my head. Breathed. Then focused again. The moment my eye touched the eyepiece, a shooting star blazed a glittery line of dust, then faded. My mouth pulled into a content smile. I never grew tired of meteors. Ever. Was it a sign, this one particular star, its tail ablaze and zerping across the sky? What had given me this, I don’t know, sort of peace and confidence that less than twenty-four hours ago had been absent for the past year? Was it Tessa and her ridiculous yet easy-going camaraderie? Was it finally being away from Jasper, from Kelsy?

  Or was it Brax’s cocky, this-is-what-you-get attitude that made me not so skittish? Or rather, the promise of intimacy between us? He seemed to have a way of putting me at ease either way, and it had taken him less than a day. Pretty impressive. Despite his flirtations, I didn’t feel threatened by him. Not at all. And I liked that feeling. It almost seemed … foreign. Yet it was a piece of my old self, pre-Kelsy, that I’d truly missed.

  The afternoon dragged, so I did what I could to pass the time before Brax would pick me up. My appetite faded after the apple cinnamon muffin and pumpkin spiced latte I had at the on-campus coffee house. I went for a run; stopped at the massive library and scoured the astronomy section. I also took another tour of the observatory, climbing to the platform and checking out the view, and spoke a minute with Steven. I liked him, and already I could tell he’d be easy to work with. None of it, though, took my mind completely off what was to come. And off the thought that I’d consciously made the decision to go out with a womanizer who bluntly promised to kiss me again. Insane. I’d lost my mind.

  My thoughts drifted. It wasn’t like me at all to be so distracted. Despite telling myself constantly that dinner with Brax was nothing more than, well, dinner with Brax, I still had butterflies. The jitters had taken over me, and I willed them away. Go. The hell. Away. Doubt infused with my too-easily-won confidence. Maybe this was all a mistake after all, just like Tessa had warned. Maybe I should cancel. Maybe I shouldn’t.

  By five, I called home, talked to Mom and Jilly, and told them about my new job. I didn’t mention Brax or my dinner date. Lord, no. Talk about poking a stick in a hornet’s nest. Telling them would only have led to a ton of questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. After the hell of senior year, and the toll it’d taken on my mom, I wasn’t about to stress her out right now. One day after getting here? No way. And if my brothers found out? They’d show up and cause a huge scene. I could handle myself, and I was pretty sure I could handle Brax. I had to. Because a Beaumont family scene was definitely something I wanted to contain. Besides, having a friend like Brax might be pretty useful after all. For sure there wouldn’t be any other guys bothering me, and if they did, Brax could easily put them in their place. That thought gave me a little comfort. Not a lot, but some.

  Finally, I twisted my hair into the usual braid, pulled on a pair of relatively hole-less low-riders, a floral baby doll blouse with capped sleeves, and a pair of brown leather sandals. Just as I’d finished brushing my teeth, my phone chirped. I found it on my bed. SOUTHIE. Against my will, my insides leaped. It was only 6:15. I flipped the phone open.

  Brax: Bring a jacket or a long-sleeved shirt or you’ll freeze your ass off. And shades to reflect bugs. I got an extra helmet. Have you thought about me all day?

  Me: Shades and jacket, I’ll grab them from my truck. Helmet, definitely. I value my brain. And yes, I thought of you, but only when I pulled on my blouse. Did you win your game?

  The minute the words were sent, I’d regretted them.

  Brax: Now you’re comin’ around, cowgirl. You ready? Yes, we won.

  Me: Swell. That’s not what I meant. And yes, I am.

  Brax: Good. Get your ass down here. I’m starvin.

  Stahvin. I smiled and shook my head. Why was he so early? Quickly, I grabbed my patchwork slouch purse, dropped my cell into it, grabbed my key card and dropped it in, too. From my desk I picked up my room and truck keys, let myself out, and locked the door behind me. Butterflies slammed against my stomach the whole walk down, and it irritated me. It wasn’t just anxiousness about seeing Brax. It was just the idea of going out with a guy. Any guy. And the closer I got to the parking lot, the more nervous I became. The more I wanted to turn around, run and hide. No matter if it was just a friendly dinner, that I was now a freshman in college and not a dumb high school teenager. Why couldn’t I just be calm, cool, collected? I willed those qualities to fall on me, and fast. To infuse in my DNA and make me full of confidence. After a few deep breaths, I had it together. I crossed the common room to the doorway, and pushed it open. And those newly summoned qualities fled the moment I laid eyes on him.

  Braxton Jenkins straddled his motorcycle just in front of the walkway. His helmet was off, shades on. Faded jeans, the bottoms cuffed. Black boots. White tee shirt. Black leather jacket. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew the moment he saw me. A wide, white smile split his face in two.

  The butterflies returned, full force and r
abid, with teeth gnashing.

  Holy God. I couldn’t do this.

  Beaumont! Breathe, girl! Nutcracker! Nutcracker!

  The entire silly conversation with Tessa from the night before poured into my brain and instantly calmed me. Just thinking the safe word made me smile. I couldn’t help it. It was just so damn funny. Anyway, it eased my nerves. I walked up to Brax, calm and cool. Friends. Nothing more.

  “Hey,” I said. “So you won. How’d the pitching go?”

  Whatever expression his eyes held was hidden behind those shades. “Bitchin’ as always. We spanked ‘em good. Nice blouse there, Gracie.”

  I smiled, and his face launched into another heart-stopping grin. I inclined my head toward my truck. “Thanks. Let me grab my glasses and jacket.”

  Brax said nothing, and I felt his eyes score a jagged blazing hole into my back as I walked toward my truck. It unnerved me a little, but I pushed it aside. I opened the door, and leaned in across the seat to grab my faded denim jacket and shades. Jamming the key in and locking it, I headed back toward Brax and his bike. His eyes were still hidden, but I knew his gaze followed me. I shrugged into my jacket, which, at this time of evening in August I highly doubted I’d freeze my ass off without. “Ready,” I said. I slipped my bag cross-ways over my head and shoulder, and plopped my keys in.

  “Come here, Gracie,” Brax said.

  My heart slammed. I stepped closer.

  Brax reached behind him and retrieved a helmet. He slipped it over my head and snugged it down tightly, tucking my braid inside. I was glad he still wore his shades as his face drew closer and secured the strap under my chin. Those eyes, so close, would’ve made me squirm in discomfort. I stared at myself in their reflection, and at his fingers nimbly moving with the black nylon strap. I noticed a few scars I hadn’t seen before, small nicks that had turned silvery white with age. Definitely a roughened face, yet I had a hard time looking away. He smelled good; recently showered, light cologne. I drew a deep breath. Then another. It barely worked to settle me. My lungs just kept filling up with … him. Unavoidably, my eyes dropped to that mouth. Another breath …