Way To My Heart

by Barbara C. Doyle

  “I got accepted into grad school,” I told Iris quietly, watching the subtle waves on the lake rock one of the boats at dock.

  “What?” she screeched. “Bitch, that’s awesome! Why didn’t you tell me that you applied? Last we talked about it was right before you graduated undergrad and you weren’t sure.”

  I shrugged, finally focusing on her. “I’m not sure if I should go. I’ve got enough student loans piling up, and just thinking about adding more gives me anxiety. I’ll have to sell all my organs to make payments.”

  “But if you get your master’s degree, your chances of getting a better job would help you financially,” she pointed out.

  “True.” I sighed.

  “What did you apply for?”

  “Education,” I admitted. “I want to become an English professor.”

  She nodded, crumpling up her empty bag of chips. “I can see that. If it’s what you want to do, you should go for it. Don’t think about the student loans, think about the chance to teach a subject you love when you earn the certification.”

  Talking to Iris always gave me a sense of ease—like her advice was one of the few things that could calm the voices in my head.

  “I’d have to leave here.”

  Her manicured fingers flicked my hand. “What is with you and leaving? Nobody here would be upset if you left to chase your dreams. Janine would be happy for you. We all would.”

  Who liked to be left behind? It wasn’t just about being abandoned; it was about saying goodbye to everything you knew. I wasn’t exactly keen on welcoming new changes into my life, because you’d never know the outcome. It was all about chance.

  “We wouldn’t see each other,” I added.

  She grinned. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I have your number, your Facebook information, and I know where you live. You’re stuck with me.”

  I smiled, looking down at my phone. There was a little green dot flashing in the corner, letting me know I had a message waiting. My eyes shot up as I white-knuckled the table.

  “I think he texted me.”

  “Open it!”

  I held my breath as I typed my password into my home screen.

  Unknown: Hey, Paisley. It’s Nathan.

  Four words sent my heart into overdrive.

  “He texted me,” I breathed aloud.

  My eyes went back down to the message, sweat dotting my forehead. For the first time in all my years on this earth, a guy used my number. And there was no rule book mentally transcribed in my brain, so I didn’t know what to do next. Text him? Wait? It seemed like responding too soon would make him realize I was waiting for him to reach out.

  Anxiety weighed down my stomach, causing me to sink into my seat, the hard wood underneath me creaked with uneasiness.

  “Well?” Iris pressed.

  I showed her the text, unable to contain my smile.

  “You’re glowing right now,” she mused.

  “I just…nobody has actually used my number before.”

  It was embarrassing to admit out loud but made this monumental.

  “Are you going to text him back?”

  “Of course.” I stared at my phone, tugging on my bottom lip with my teeth. “In a few minutes, though. I don’t want him thinking I’m desperate.”

  She rolled her eyes, getting up to throw away her trash in the nearest bin. When she came back, she sat down next to me, looking over my shoulder as I programmed his name into my phone.

  “Text him,” she whispered.

  Blowing out a breath, I rolled my shoulders back like I was about to go into a boxing match. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my ribcage and sucker punch me in the face, so the comparison wasn’t far off.

  Me: Hey!

  I watched the message go from sent to delivered, wondering if I should send something else. But before I could put myself through the panic, he replied.

  Nate: Fire tonight. You in?

  Hell yeah I’m in.

  Glancing at Iris, she nodded in encouragement. She was always better at this than I was, so having her in my corner made some of her magic rub off on me.

  Me: What time?

  Nate: Around 9?

  Iris squeaked. “Girl, you’re going to be up past your bedtime tonight.”

  She jabbed me in the side and made some heinous hand gesture that I was assuming indicated some sort of lude sexual act.

  Knocking my shoulder against hers, I shot him back a confirmation and memorized the address he’d answered with.

  I looked at Iris. “I’m going to a bonfire.”

  “With a guy,” she added.

  “Who texted me.”

  We both broke out into a fit of giggles.

  “Too bad it’s not Caleb,” she added casually, pushing herself up.

  “Oh my God,” I groaned. “Knock it off.”

  She gave me a quick hug. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  And for the first time in a while, I felt it.

  How You Know It Won’t Work:

  His bed is actually a hammock

  Now would have been a perfect time to have Iris nearby. She would tell me how to dress, what makeup to wear, and what shoes complimented my outfit. But the more I thought about the tight concoction she’d try shoving me into, the happier I was that she wasn’t around. Settling on a pair of bootcut jeans and a plain black tee, I threw on a lightweight grey zip-up sweatshirt and ran a comb through my hair. I didn’t look over done, but doubt slowly crept into my mind about being under dressed.

  After throwing on a quick layer of black eyeliner and some lip gloss, I slipped into my maroon Converse, double checked the address he gave me, and stuffed my phone and keys into my purse. His house wasn’t too far from my apartment, so I decided to walk. The sun was only just now setting, so there was still some daylight twinkling on the horizon.

  My mind went into overdrive about how tonight would go. I never went out with anybody, much less to their houses. It wasn’t that I was scared, just out of my comfort zone. But after years of being self-consciously stuck, it was better to do something out of the ordinary then play it safe.

  Like go to a man’s house surrounded by his friends, who I’ve never met, and may or may not like me.

  Clenching my clammy hands, I wondered what they’d think when I got there. Nathan was in shape—bulky arms, lean body. Me? My curves had curves. I was like a walking advertisement for Hershey’s chocolate.

  Did it matter what his friends thought? I’d spent a long time caring about others’ opinions, and it drained me. I swore never to let myself go to that place in my mind, yet I was sinking into a hole I wasn’t sure I’d get out of.

  Halfway to Nathan’s street, somebody calling my name stopped me in front of a large white house with a wrap-around porch. My eyes scanned the area, finally locking on Caleb’s half-naked figure as he jogged toward me.

  I tried not to notice the hills and valleys of his abs, but they were on full display for my own viewing pleasures. Not to mention his workout shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, revealing a V-shape I thought only fictional men had.

  Snapping out of my momentary lapse of judgment, I offered him a small wave. “Hey.”

  He must have been working out because I could see that his torso was dotted with little rain drops of sweat. I watched one drop give up the fight and trek down his stomach to that precarious muscle I was ogling before.

  He stretched his arms, abs twisting and causing my eyes to wander again. “Where are you going this time of night?”

  “It’s 8:30.”

  “You just don’t seem like the type to go out much after dark,” he replied, shrugging.

  One of my brows arched in inquiry. “Is that your assumption or did Iris tell you that?”

  His eyes were playful. “I plead the fifth.”

  “For your information, I’m going on a date.”

  The playfulness vanished, replaced by firm lips and a hard stare. “A date?”


  I tipped my head once.

  His arms crossed on that glorious chest. “And where is this date?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You’re not dressed for a date.”

  Eyes peering down at myself, I squeaked, “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

  “It’s…” He let his thought fade into oblivion. “Look, I think you look good. But it’s not the same type of good you’d look on an actual date.”

  Lips twitching, I tried not letting it bother me. His opinion didn’t matter. Or it shouldn’t. But part of me wanted to run home and change into something prettier for Nathan.

  I played it off. “Like I care what you think. It’s a bonfire at a guy’s house, okay?”

  “You’re going to the dude’s house?” he demanded, voice thick with disapproval.

  “I’ve known him for months. Stop being such a dad,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

  He rolled those icy blues. “There are a lot of things I’ll let you consider me, Paisley. A father figure isn’t one of them.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You’re wearing makeup,” he noted, scanning my face.

  I kicked a pebble. “Yep.”

  “You never wear makeup.”

  He saw me twice. How could he make the assumption I never wore makeup from how little we’ve encountered each other?

  “I wear it when I feel like it.”

  Disbelief formed at the arch of his brow. “You shouldn’t try to impress him by being somebody you’re not. Plus, you’re beautiful without all that on.” He waved his hand in the general direction of my made-up face.

  All that? It was eyeliner, not a full contour.

  Wait…did he say beautiful?

  I pointed my thumb behind me, in an awkward up-side-down thumbs up. “Listen, I have to go.”

  “Wait,” he stopped as I began turning around. He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

  I stared at his open palm. “No.”

  “You should have somebody’s number in case you need to leave,” he reasoned, waving his fingers for me to give it up.

  There was no way I was giving him my phone, even if he did have valid a point. “I don’t need you or your number, Caleb. If I need to leave, I’ll just walk out the door.”

  His eyes got eerily dark. The normal light blue turning to murky ocean water. “Paisley—”

  “I put my big girl panties on this morning. I can handle myself.”

  I didn’t give him the chance to object before turning on my heels and walking down the street. He’d probably make some stupid comment about my underwear, and I wasn’t going to have it. It was bad enough he was in possession of one pair. He didn’t need to be talking about another.

  When the red house Nathan described in his texts came into view, I took in the orange and yellow flames billowing from the backyard and laughter echoing in the quiet night as a sign I was in the right place. There was no mentally preparing myself for this, so I just took a deep breath and crossed the street toward all the noise.

  “Here we go,” I whispered into the breeze.

  Hesitantly walking around a group of cars piled into the gravel driveway, my eyes raked over the back of people’s heads until I found Nathan’s. There weren’t many others, just a few guys with girls on their laps. They all talked amongst themselves, laughing at something that one of them must have said. Discomfort settled in stomach when I saw them passing around a joint.

  I’d expected drinking, but I never wanted to be around people who did drugs.

  “Hey,” I greeted, hoping my voice didn’t crack. Nate took a sip of his beer before smiling at me.

  “Glad you could come. Want a drink?”

  Beer had always tasted like aging piss to me. Most alcohol did, so I shook my head. “No thanks.”

  A few curious glances found their way to me, so I smiled at the lingering stares and then looked back at Nathan. He introduced me to everybody, then gestured for me to follow him toward the house.

  The tour wasn’t a long one, but the time alone with him was a welcome distraction from the cacophony outside.

  His house was a two-story Victorian that he was renovating from the inside out. He finished painting the entire outside before summer and was focused on tearing apart the kitchen and bathrooms before moving onto the other rooms.

  His bedroom had me in awe when I walked in to see plants everywhere. Trees and flowers in terracotta pots were spread across the floor. He’d told me once that he slept in a hammock surrounded by a rain forest. I thought he was joking.

  I laughed, a little dubious. “I thought you were kidding about the hammock,” I admitted, poking it so it rocked back and forth.

  “I never joke about hammocks.” He stated, with the most serious look on his face.

  He really is a hippy.

  I giggled and followed him back downstairs. Instead of going back outside, Nate sat down on the couch in the living room, patting the spot next to him.

  Throat thick, I noted what little space there was. This was a love seat, unlike my own full-size couch at home. And while I wanted to get close to Nate, my feet wouldn’t cooperate and move there.

  “You okay?” he asked, busying himself with something green and leafy in a plastic bag.

  I quickly nodded. “Fine.”

  Shuffling next to the arm of the couch nervously, I put my purse on my lap and finally sat down. My eyes tried following what he was doing, but when I realized he was rolling a joint, I looked anywhere but directly at him. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he smoked pot, but it wasn’t like it ever came up in conversation. Granted, Wilkins had plenty of rules about appropriate behavior at work and talking about drugs didn’t make the list.

  Trying to brush it off, I shifted on the couch. “I like your house.”

  The walls on his living room were covered in pictures of him and his dog at different hiking spots in the area.

  “It’s a work in progress,” he answered, smiling over at me.

  Too nervous to talk, I fidgeted with my hands in my lap until he was finished getting his joint ready. When he asked if I wanted to go back outside, I felt a little pressure roll off my shoulders. Being inside with him made me feel like I was closed in—suddenly suffocating. Following him back out to where lawn chairs and another hammock—not to be confused with the one he used as a bed—were setup by the fire, he took a seat on one of the chairs and gestured for me to do the same.

  “Want a hit?” he asked, holding out the joint.

  I had trouble swallowing. “Oh, uh, no. I’m good.”

  I’d momentarily felt lame for turning him down again. But I wasn’t about to do something I had no interest in either. Looking around at the others, I noticed I was the only person not indulging in drugs or drinking.

  Way to fit in, Paisley.

  “I wish we could see the stars better,” he said, breaking me from my runaway thoughts. His head rested on the back of the chair, looking up at the cloudy night sky.

  For some reason, words couldn’t get past my lips and teeth and out of mouth. They just bubbled up in the back of my throat. The stars were pretty to look at, but they weren’t visible in the area. Especially not with the overcast weather we were having lately, the constant storms rolling in unexpectantly.

  When I stayed silent, I noticed him studying me. I just pretended to watch what little stars did break through the murky cloud cover.

  After a prolonged silence between us, I break it with, “So, are you planning any other hiking trips?”

  I knew he and a few of his friends went on a three-day hike on Independence Day over a month ago but hadn’t heard of another since.

  He tipped his beer up. “Yeah, actually. We want to do at least one more before the weather shifts to the snowier season.”

  Tapping my feet against the grass, I tried finding a way to sneak my way onto this upcoming hike. All Where In The World Is Carmen Santiago stealth like. “That would be fun.
”

  The idea of me hiking was almost laughable. I’d considered going on some of the local trails before, but never got the courage to actually force my body to stay in motion for such a long time frame. Some of them were no different than walking around town, so it was purely just me being too lazy to go.

  “I could show you some of my favorite spots,” he offered, angling his body toward me.

  My heart swelled. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Sure. You’ve never hiked before, right?”

  For some reason, my brain fired off the white lie before I could comprehend how disastrous the consequence could be. “I’ve done a few trails, but nothing compared to your skill. I’m still a newb.”

  A newb?

  Thankfully, he didn’t ask where I went. Probably good, because lying through my ass was not one of my talents.

  “There are a few places I can take you that would be easy.”

  I tried hiding the huge grin on my face, but it was hard to do so. He wanted to take me hiking. I couldn’t be screwing this date up so bad then.

  He took a hit of his joint and tapped the guy behind him to pass. They went back and forth like that while I listened to the fire crackle in front of us. Conversation dulled until the food was done cooking, so I followed Nate over to grab a burger. As much as I loved food, I had no appetite in his presence, so I nibbled on the burger and watched as everybody else dove into the mass of chips, potato salad, pasta salad, hotdogs, burgers, and all the fixings lining the table.

  “There’s more if you want some,” Nate mentioned.

  I waved my hand in the air. “I’m not very hungry. Thanks though.”

  He studied me for a second before turning back to grab another serving of sour cream and onion chips.

  Blowing out a breath, I looked around to see that a few of the couples had wandered off. Besides Nate and I, there was only one other couple making out by the fire.

  Not wanting to watch the pornography in the making, I sat down on the grass next to his dog, who was begging for scraps. Fussing over him was a good distraction from the constant silence that kept coming between Nate and me.