On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons)

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On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons) Page 4

by Paul, JL


  “I don’t drink a whole lot at Rusty’s,” I said. “And should you be promoting underage drinking? Don’t you have a bartender’s license?”

  “Yes, I have a license,” he said, leaning back when the waitress returned with our drinks. “And I’m not promoting underage drinking. I was just asking if you’d prefer wine.”

  The waitress eyed us both as she set a straw beside my glass. Evan whipped out his wallet and flashed his ID at the waitress, making her blush. She hurried away to check on her other tables.

  “So, what sounds good to you?” he asked, lifting his menu. “Pasta? Chicken? Or do you just want pizza?”

  “Pizza is fine,” I said. “I don’t care what you get on it, either, as long as you don’t get mushrooms or anchovies.”

  “Damn,” he said, setting down his menu. “My two favorites.”

  “Fine,” I sighed. “Then get that on half.”

  “I’m kidding,” he laughed. “Lighten up. I’m allergic to mushrooms – I can’t eat them.”

  “Oh,” I said, a little heat in my cheeks. “Fine. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.”

  The waitress returned to take our order and remove our menus. Evan helped himself to a breadstick from the glass container in the middle of the table. “These are great.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, sticking my straw in my soda. “So, tell me, why are you so keen about hanging out with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Groaning, I sipped my soda. “Are you always this elusive or do you give straight answers from time to time?”

  “You’re funny,” he said with a crooked grin, his eyes shimmering from the flames in the fireplace. “Okay, here’s your straight answer. I like you.”

  “You like me?” I asked. “But, you hardly know me.”

  He lifted a shoulder as he sipped his beer. “That’s why we’re hanging out – so we can get to know each other better.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that so I grabbed a breadstick and nibbled on the end.

  “I’ve been in Beans several times when you were working and I thought you were cute. I decided to start chatting with you, hoping to win you over with my charm.”

  I inhaled a few crumbs which set me off in a slight coughing fit. Evan reached across the table to scoot my soda within my reach.

  “Take a drink.”

  I did as he said until I felt as if I could speak normally.

  “Charm?” I managed to utter.

  “Yep, charm.”

  I managed to not roll my eyes.

  “You don’t think I’m charming?” he asked, clearly amused.

  “Let’s just say I’m reserving judgment,” I said.

  “Fair enough,” he said, attempting to hide his smile with his beer.

  Conversation stalled and I took that moment to study the others. Several nearby tables were occupied by college-aged people; two couples sitting close, three tables with groups of friends. I wondered what I was doing there with Evan.

  “So, Morgan,” Evan said, breaking the silence. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “Grow up?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  Lifting my chin, I looked into his dark eyes. “I’m in the Education Program. Art.”

  “Art teacher, huh?” he asked. I nodded. “Are you an artist?”

  “I can draw,” I admitted. “I’m not much of a painter, though. My real passion is photography.”

  “Really?” he asked. “That’s cool. I like taking pictures. It’s fun.”

  I couldn’t help but to smile.

  “How did you get into photography?”

  “My dad gave me a camera for my birthday when I was eight,” I explained. “I took pictures of everything – flowers, animals, people. It just grew from there.”

  “I want to see some of your work,” he said.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Come on,” he said as the waitress returned with our pizza. She set it in the middle of the table and offered to serve our first piece but Evan declined. When she walked away, he picked up my plate, shoveled a slice on it, and handed it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, placing a napkin on my lap.

  “Sure,” he said as he placed a slice on his own plate. “Now, why won’t you show me your stuff?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, as I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t really show people.”

  “Have you taken classes?” he asked. I nodded. “You’ve shown your teacher.”

  “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? I had to show her.”

  “So, pretend I’m a teacher,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a maddening grin on his face.

  “I hardly know you,” I said. “I’ve only shown a few things to my friends and I’ve known them a lot longer. Why would I show you?”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, cramming half a slice into his mouth. I tried not to watch as he chewed. “I’ll just have to hang around more – so you can get to know me.”

  “Wonderful,” I groaned.

  “Don’t be like that,” he said. “Most chicks are thrilled to hang out with me. Hell, they’d give their right arm for the chance.”

  “You think right highly of yourself, don’t you?”

  His grin widened. “It’s the truth. Ask around campus. I bet I’ve dated some of your classmates.”

  “I really don’t care to ask anyone,” I said.

  “Whatever, sweetness,” he said.

  “So,” I said, nibbling on my slice. “You’re a self-proclaimed ladies man.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, helping himself to another slice. “I just like to date. It’s fun, you know, hanging out with chicks, getting to know them. I love women.”

  “I get it,” I said, slightly perturbed. “You’d like for me to be one of your…’chicks,’ right?”

  He flashed a toothy smile. “Not at all. You said you weren’t in a dating place. I like you, though, so I figured if you aren’t in a dating place, maybe you’re in a friend place. We can do that, right? Be friends?”

  “I have enough friends.”

  “Sure you do,” he said. “You hang out with Bailey and Irelyn, no one else. But Bailey and Irelyn are both in committed relationships so you only get to see them when they’re not with their boyfriends. You can hang out with them when they are with their boyfriends but it makes you feel like a third wheel.”

  My blood ran cold as I dropped the crust to my plate. “You don’t know how I feel.”

  He shrugged, cramming as much pizza into his mouth as possible. He wiped his lips as he chewed, his eyes on me. Swallowing, he took a drink and then lifted a brow. “It was just a guess, that’s all. I didn’t mean to strike a nerve or anything.”

  “You didn’t,” I said as I grabbed another piece. Taking small bites, I chastised myself about rising to his bait. I needed to take the sensitivity down a peg or two. “I don’t have a lot of close friends, okay? Just Irelyn and Bailey. I do, however, have friends at school – people that I eat lunch with, study with, work on projects. I’m not some loner that you need to take pity on and shower with attention.”

  “Is that what you think this is?” he asked, all amusement draining from his face. He dropped the slice he was holding onto his plate as he tilted his head, brow furrowed, and studied my face. “Do you think this is a … pity date?”

  “Is it?”

  “No,” he said with a scowl. “Shit, Morgan, I’ve been telling you that I like you. I don’t play games. I’m not into lying or fooling around with someone’s feelings. I’ve been honest with you from the start.”

  A touch of shame floated in my heart as I ducked my head. “Sorry. I guess I’m a tad oversensitive about certain things.”

  “No worries,” he said without a trace of humor. He finished his beer and motioned for the waitress. “Can I have a refill?”

  “Sure,” she smiled and then turned to me. “Another diet?”


  “No, thank you,” I said.

  Nodding at me, she glanced at Evan, a sly smile on her face, and then hurried away to get his beer. No doubt she was wondering what he was doing with me.

  “So, do you want to check out a movie tonight?” he asked.

  “No,” I said slowly. “I have an early class tomorrow. But thank you.”

  “Some other time,” he said, smiling his thanks when the waitress returned with his beer.

  “Perhaps.”

  He drained half the glass in one drink, set it on the table, and grinned as if he’d swiped the last cookie in the jar. “I have your number. I can be relentless.”

  “And I can be stubborn.”

  “Touché,” he said, a glint in his eye. “Hard to get. I like that.”

  Rolling my eyes, I sipped my soda. “If you’re finished, I’m going to ask for the check.”

  “Sure.”

  I caught the waitress’s attention and she handed me the check.

  “Um, no,” Evan said, snatching it from my hand. “I’m paying.”

  “I’ll pay half.”

  “No you won’t,” he said. “I invited you.”

  “But this is not a date.”

  “So says you,” he said as he dug out his wallet, counted out some bills, and placed them on top of the ticket. “You can pay next time.”

  I wanted to remind him that there might not be a ‘next time’ but didn’t want to get into that debate. I just let him pay with a sigh and finished my soda.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it, sweetness.”

  “What’s with the nickname?”

  “It’s cute – at least, that’s what all the chicks say.”

  “Well, chicks might think it’s cute, but normal women don’t.”

  “You say that now,” he said as he got up and instantly helped me put on my coat. “But you’ll change your mind.”

  I didn’t bother correcting him, even though I could never see myself as gushing over a pet name.

  “Have a good night,” the waitress said as we walked past her on the way out. Her eyes quickly raked Evan’s body, instantly sending an irritating jolt down my spine. Couldn’t she see that I was with him? Sure, it wasn’t a date, but she didn’t know that.

  Evan wished her the same but I ignored her, in a hurry to get out the door and to my car.

  “Something wrong?” he asked. Even though he was walking behind me, I just knew he was smiling.

  “No.”

  “Didn’t like the service?” he asked. “You were a little rude to our server.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” I said as I pushed through the door and a gush of wind swept my face.

  “Okay,” he said, clearly amused.

  I rushed to my car, Evan on my heels. As soon as I reached it, I opened the door, longing for the warmth.

  “Well, thank you for dinner,” I said, turning to him with a forced smile, eager to end the evening.

  “Hey, no problem,” he said, arms wide open. “It was fun. Let’s do it again soon.”

  I nodded as I climbed into my car. “I need to get home. Got that early class tomorrow.”

  “Have a good one,” he said as I shut my door and started the engine. He stood on the sidewalk, watching as I pulled away.

  “Geez,” I said, cranking the heat. I no sooner turned the corner than my cell phone rang. “Oh, not already!”

  Digging in my purse with my eyes on the road, my fingers brushed against the phone, clenching it and pulling it from the depths.

  “Hello?” I answered, preparing for another dose of Evan. I was off, though.

  “Hello, darling,” my mother cooed.

  Taking a deep breath, I switched lanes in the light traffic.

  “Hi, Mother. How are you?”

  “Oh, just fine,” she said. “Are you busy? I’m always afraid to call as I don’t have your schedule.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I said. “I’m driving home, actually.”

  “Do you have class this late?”

  “No, I was just having dinner.”

  I should have lied because my words instantly perked her interest. “With whom?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “A male friend?” she asked.

  I considered lying this time but chose not to do that. It was ingrained in my head to not lie to my parents. “Yes, a male friend.”

  “What’s he like?” she asked. “Does he attend University with you?”

  My mother was the only person I knew that called going to college ‘attending University.’ “No, he does not go to Dunne-Browling.”

  “Oh,” she said, slightly crestfallen. “Does he attend the nearby medical school?”

  “No, Mother, he doesn’t. He graduated from a technical school and works at a garage.”

  “Oh,” she said, again, this time stretching out the word. “I see. Well, good thing he is just a friend. You don’t need to date someone like that.”

  Of course not. What she didn’t say is that I needed to date someone who was wealthy and smart.

  “Well, I’m not dating him. Like I said, we’re just friends,” I said. “So, is anything wrong at home?”

  “No, dear, everything is fine,” she said. “I was just calling about Thanksgiving. You will be home, right?”

  “Thanksgiving is a month away,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, but it does take preparation,” she said.

  “I will be home,” I said. “Mid-terms will be over by then, but I’ll have to do some studying for finals as they’ll be in December. I don’t think I’ll be home for my entire Thanksgiving break.”

  “You worry too much about school,” she said. “You’ll do fine.”

  Rolling my eyes, I ignored her comment. My mother didn’t set much by women attaining degrees, thinking they should attain husbands instead.

  “I’ll call you next month to give you the exact date when I’ll be home.”

  “Okay, darling,” Mother said. “That will be wonderful. Most of the family will be here so I’d like everything to be perfect.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” I said as I neared the coffee shop. “Mother, I’m just getting home now. I’ll give you a call soon, okay? I need to get inside.”

  “Have a good night, dear. We’ll speak again, soon.”

  Ending the call, I grabbed my purse and left the car. Once I got inside and shed my coat, I sank into the comfy chair by the window, closing my eyes.

  Chapter Five

  As Halloween approached, falling on a Friday this year, the mood around campus soared. Most people were anticipating great parties and a fun weekend. In every one of my classes, I had to endure girls discussing the sexy costumes they’d be wearing or guys describing the alcohol that would be at various frat parties.

  I had no plans. I had to work Saturday morning so I had no intention of going to any of the few parties in which I’d been invited. I was sure that I wouldn’t be missed as the invitations had come more from politeness than eagerness for me to attend.

  Thursday night, I took a shift at Beans for one of the girls who needed the evening off to help decorate her sorority house for their bash. I didn’t mind as I was caught up on coursework and wanted the extra spending money for the upcoming holidays.

  As my shift was ending, I walked around the sitting area, wiping down tables, glancing out the tall windows at the darkness enveloping the city.

  I hadn’t heard much from Irelyn and Bailey since the night at Bailey’s house. Irelyn called me twice with updates and I’d spotted Bailey across campus several times, but we were both headed in different directions and hadn’t had time to chat.

  Loneliness crept into my heart, especially as the days grew shorter and the temperature dropped. I spent more and more time in my apartment, watching reruns of old sitcoms and studying on my laptop. Even Evan hadn’t come in or called.

  With a sigh, I swiped the rag across the last table before turning toward the counter to c
lean the prep area. It was nearly closing time and I just wanted to go home and soak in the tub with a cup of hot chocolate or a glass of wine.

  The bell above the door jingled, raising my ire. It was time to go home, not serve more coffee.

  “Not closed yet, huh?”

  I fought a smile as I turned. “Almost.”

  “Can a guy still get a cup?” Evan asked, grinning.

  “Just good old plain coffee,” I said as I walked around the counter. “Everything else is shut down.”

  “No problem. I’m a good old plain coffee kind of guy.”

  “Sure you are,” I said as I poured him the last of the coffee. “That’s the bottom of the pot so I’m not sure how great it will be.”

  “Coffee’s coffee when it’s this chilly,” he said, dumping a packet of sugar in the cup. “I’m not too picky.”

  Nodding, I set the empty pot into the sink of sudsy water. “What are you doing here so late?”

  “I wanted a cup of coffee and this is the best in town.”

  “No, it’s not,” I snorted.

  “Whatever you say,” he said with a shrug. “So, what are you doing this weekend?”

  “Nothing,” I said, too quickly. Avoiding his eyes, I began scrubbing the pot, taking my time.

  “Aren’t you going to Rusty’s Halloween party tomorrow night?” he asked. “I’m sure your friends will be there.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” I said, confident. “I’ve spoken to Irelyn a few times and she didn’t mention it.”

  “Hm,” he said.

  Lifting my eyes, I frowned. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said, leaning against the counter. “It’s just that, I’m bartending tomorrow and Out Back is supposed to play.”

  “But,” I said, rinsing the pot and setting it on a towel to dry. “I spoke to Irelyn last week and she said that the guys were signing a contract with that indie label.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I heard, too,” Evan said. “But they’d already signed a contract to play this weekend and a few others so they have to honor it.”

  My heart sank. How could my friends forget to tell me that? Or, did they not forget but just didn’t want to tell me? Maybe they didn’t consider me as close a friend as they once had.

  “So, anyway, if you’re not doing anything, why don’t you come to Rusty’s?”

 

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