On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons)

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On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons) Page 8

by Paul, JL


  “I’m finished crying over Spencer Kelly and everything that goes with it,” I said in a determined voice as I filled the kettle with water. Setting it on the stove, I turned on the burner and removed a mug from the cabinet.

  As I waited for the water to boil, I replayed Jessica’s words in my head. As hurtful as they were, I would move past them. I didn’t have a choice. I was tired of playing the victim.

  But she did have one point. It was a little weird to be the only single person hanging out with three couples. Maybe I was forcing myself into the group again. Sure, they’d called a few times and invited me over, but maybe I shouldn’t hoist myself on them at Rusty’s. Maybe it did make them uncomfortable and maybe they were being too polite to say anything.

  The kettle whistled and I moved back to the stove to prepare my cocoa. Carrying it into the living room, I sat in my chair, looking out the window at the dark street.

  I wasn’t sure how to handle things. Did I just sit around and wait for them to call? No, that was rather pathetic. My world didn’t have to revolve around them. I had other acquaintances at school – perhaps I could invite a few girls from class to a movie or something. I didn’t have to totally cut Bailey and Irelyn out of my life, but I didn’t have to make them the only focus.

  Satisfied for the moment, I finished my cocoa while I gazed outside, and then went to bed.

  ***

  “So, what happened last night?”

  Rolling my eyes, I rang up Evan’s coffee after sliding the cup across the counter to him.

  “Nothing, really,” I admitted. “Just a little argument, that’s all.”

  “You looked upset.”

  “I was mad,” I said. “I decided to go home and not sit at the table, chancing another argument, and making the situation worse.”

  Nodding, he moved aside, allowing a woman to approach the counter and order. Once she received her drink, he moved closer, still sipping his coffee.

  “What time do you get off?” he asked.

  “Noon,” I said, wiping off the counter. “Why? Need help with another plumbing problem?”

  “No,” he laughed. “Want to grab some lunch?”

  My first instinct was to put him off – to make up some excuse. But I paused, considering his offer and remembering the decision I’d made the night before.

  “Why not?” I said.

  “Why not indeed,” he said with a grin. “I’ll pick you up at twelve-fifteen.”

  “Fine,” I said as a slight tremor of trepidation shimmied up my spine. “I’ll be ready.”

  With a salute, he sauntered out the door, leaving me to wonder what I’d just agreed to do.

  ***

  “Hope you like Chinese,” Evan said as he opened the passenger door of a dilapidated pickup truck. I climbed inside, a little leery of the towel covering the seat and the beat up boxes on the floorboards.

  “Yes, that’s fine,” I said.

  He got in beside me and cranked the engine. “Sorry about the mess. This is the truck we use at the garage to run for parts and stuff. It’s a little messy.”

  “It’s okay,” I said as I buckled the grease-stained seatbelt.

  “Like I said, I have a motorcycle and it’s too damn cold to ride this time of year.”

  I didn’t answer – just watched the scenery as he drove out of the small business district, past the sprawling campus and to the outskirts of town.

  He parked in front of a bright red building with a huge panda painted on the front. As I got out, he waited for me on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, grinning like he knew a secret I didn’t.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked.

  “Yes, a couple of times.”

  “Good,” he said. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s the best Chinese buffet around,” he said as we walked inside and approached the counter. He paid for two buffets and then seized my hand as we followed the hostess to a booth. Once we placed our drink orders, he shot out of his seat, tugging on my sleeve.

  “Let’s go grub.”

  I removed my coat and hurried after him, a little amused at his obvious excitement.

  “You really like this place, huh?” I asked as I perused the choices, selecting steamed rice and sweet and sour chicken.

  “Love it,” he said as he heaped rice, chicken, egg rolls, and veggies on his plate. We returned to our booth and began to eat, stopping any conversation.

  Once his immediate hunger was abated, he stared at me.

  “What?” I asked. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”

  “No, just admiring your beauty.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I wish you’d stop saying stuff like that.”

  “Why?” he asked. “You don’t like compliments?”

  “It’s just…embarrassing,” I said, dropping my eyes to my plate.

  “Fine,” he sighed, sucking on his straw. “I’ll stop saying it. But I won’t stop thinking it.”

  Scooping up rice on my fork, I shoved it into my mouth, not sure what to say. I wasn’t used to people showering me in compliments – especially men.

  “Why?” I asked, setting my fork beside my plate.

  “Why what?” he asked, his mouth full. I tried not to look.

  “Why are you always telling me I’m beautiful and hanging around?” I clarified. “I mean, I see you at Rusty’s with women all around you. And yet, you persist on pestering me.”

  Cocking his head, he furrowed his brow. “I pester you?”

  “Well,” I backtracked. “I suppose pester might be too strong of a word. But the point is, why are you so interested in me when you have a ton of women at your disposal?”

  Laughing, he picked up his cup, stirring the ice with his straw. “You’re beautiful and you don’t know it. You’re honest and not fake. You don’t dress in revealing clothing to attract male attention. You’ve got class.”

  I gaped at him, certain that he had me mixed up with someone else.

  But I was also touched.

  “Um, thanks,” I said, ducking over my plate.

  “No need to thank me,” he said. “I’m just that kind of guy. Charm oozes from my pores.”

  A smile escaped my lips as I finished my chicken.

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m going back for more,” he said, shoving his empty plate to the end of the table. “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I said, quietly. After placing my plate on top of his, I followed him back to the buffet.

  Full to bursting, we left the restaurant thirty minutes later and climbed into the truck.

  “That went well,” he said as he started the engine. “Don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “I’m glad you agree. So, what do you want to do now?”

  My head snapped in his direction. “Now?”

  “Yep,” he said as he pulled into traffic. “I don’t have to be at Rusty’s until seven. Want to go to the mall?”

  “You at the mall?” I asked.

  “The mall is a great source of entertainment,” he said, serious as can be. “And not just the arcade.”

  Too afraid to ask, I shrugged and braced for whatever would happen next.

  Once we arrived at the mall, Evan’s demeanor changed immediately to that of a young boy on his way to the toy store.

  Which was the first place we stopped.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand. “I love this place.”

  I had no choice but to follow as he dragged me into the brightly lit toy store, Tots.

  “Hi, Evan,” the busty blonde behind the counter greeted. Her bright smile lit up her pretty features as she walked around the counter and over to us.

  “Hey, Jocelyn,” he said, his eyes taking in all the toys on the display tables, waiting for a child to play with it. “How’s it going?”

  “Great,” she said, totally ignoring me. “I haven’t seen you in a while. I thought we were going t
o catch a movie sometime?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, his eyes darting in my direction. “Sorry, Joce, but I’ve been busy.”

  A harried mother pushing a stroller with one hand and clutching a toddler with the other, wandered into the store. She approached the counter, little boy’s hand still clamped in hers, and drew Jocelyn away from us.

  “Thank goodness,” Evan breathed as he pulled me to a table. “Check this out.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him about Jocelyn, but since it really wasn’t my business, I kept my mouth shut.

  “Isn’t this cool?” he asked as he picked up a furry puppy and flipped a switch on its belly. I’d seen that toy before – probably had one when I was a child – so I wasn’t impressed when it bounced forward, yipping in an annoying tone, before performing a perfect backflip.

  “I can’t believe they still make these,” he said.

  “Me, either,” I said as I glanced around the store. It was a small, cramped space with several floor-to-ceiling shelving units creating cluttered aisles.

  His interest in the puppy gone, he snatched my coat sleeve and dragged me down the aisles, oohing and aahing over the toys.

  “I used to have one of these,” he said when we reached a display of army toys. “Loved them. I don’t know what ever happened to them…”

  Before I could respond, he was bounding over to something else, laughing with glee.

  “You’re such a child,” I said when he picked up a dump truck, pressing the buttons to see what they would do.

  “Maybe,” he shrugged, setting the truck back on the shelf. “I didn’t have a lot of toys when I was a kid – I like to come in here and see what sort of shit these companies come up with.”

  Brow furrowed, I opened my mouth to ask him about his childhood, but didn’t get the chance. He’d grown bored with the toys and was yanking me out of the store, with a quick wave over his shoulder at Jocelyn.

  “What’s next?” he muttered, his eyes scanning the stores in the vicinity. Dalefield Mall wasn’t particularly large and only consisted of two wings with about thirty stores. Still, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to think that he might drag me through every single one.

  “Let’s go check out the Shirt Shack,” he said, quickening his pace. “They have some good ones in there.”

  “Evan, my man!”

  Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that the heavyset, jolly man behind the register knew Evan, too. I was beginning to suspect that he spent a lot of time wandering the mall.

  “Hey, Ruben. How’s it going?”

  “Slow, but it’ll pick up,” Ruben replied, rubbing his considerable stomach. “The holidays are approaching.”

  “I know,” Evan said. “They come so quickly.”

  “They do.”

  Evan laced his fingers through my hand and maneuvered through the racks of t-shirts. I was amazed at the selection. The store had everything from plain white t-shirts to colored to vintage to those with snappy, silly sayings. Evan stopped at that rack, rifling through all the shirts, stopping when he found one particularly funny to share with me. I walked around to the other side and began to peruse, chuckling at a few of the clever sayings. He’d find one and hold it up for me to read and I’d do the same until it became a competition between the two of us – who could find the funniest shirt.

  Once we’d gone through the entire rack, Evan decided it was time to go somewhere else. He waved bye to Ruben, promising to come back soon, and led me across the way to Noah’s Ark.

  “I love the puppies,” he said, stopping in front of the store window to watch three Maltese puppies frolicking in the shredded newspaper.

  “They’re so cute,” I said, smiling at their antics.

  “Come on,” he said, nodding at the store. “Let’s find our favorite and get him out.”

  “You can’t just take a puppy out,” I said.

  “They let you take one into the little room,” he said, pointing at two closet-sized, glass encased rooms empty of anything but a lone dog toy and a bench. “See?”

  As I rarely shopped at Dalefield Mall, I wasn’t accustomed to this. “All right, let’s find a puppy.”

  We took our time, stopping in front of each pen to study every puppy. It was difficult to pick just one as they all were adorable. The yellow Lab puppies jumped on the glass, yipping and barking. The Yorkie pups cuddled together, each with pink bows in their hair.

  But it was the chubby little bulldog puppy at the end, in a pen by himself, that won our affection. We looked at each other, both of us with dopey grins on our faces.

  “Maxie,” Evan called as he spun on his heel, nearly toppling over a display of dog toys. He righted the rack before it could tumble as an older woman appeared from a back room.

  “Evan,” she said with an affectionate smile, reaching into her smock pocket for a set of keys. “Who do you want to play with today?”

  “The bulldog,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

  “Ah, yes. He’s a popular fellow,” she said as she unlocked the glass door and stepped inside. She paused by the bulldog pen and unlocked that door as well, reaching in to collect the little dog in her arms. She returned, gently handing the puppy off to Evan. “I sure wish you’d take one of these guys.”

  “As soon as I have a place, Maxey,” he said, strolling to the little rooms. I followed, aching to pet the excited puppy.

  Once in the room, Evan set the puppy on the floor. The little guy snatched up the squeak toy in the corner and shook it.

  “He’s so cute,” I said as I squatted next to him, stroking his soft fur. “I wish I could have a dog. My landlord will only allow cats.”

  “Ugh, cats,” Evan said, engaging the puppy in a game of tug-of-war. “I’m not a cat person.”

  “I like cats,” I said as I sat on the floor, petting the puppy while he fought Evan over the toy. “I love them. But I’d rather have a dog.”

  “Me, too.”

  We played with the puppy for about twenty minutes before handing him back to Maxey and browsing the rest of the store. Evan was fascinated with the playful ferrets while I steered clear of the mice, rats, and spiders. He joked that he was going to buy me a tarantula while I threatened to get him a kitten.

  When we left the store, I was surprised to see that it was nearly three-thirty.

  “Wow, we’ve been here awhile,” I said after checking the time on my phone and slipping it back into my coat pocket.

  “Time flies,” he said, smug, as he took my hand again. “I should get you home, I suppose. I have a few things to do before my shift.”

  I was surprised at the disappointment that shot through my heart. “All right.”

  As we got into the truck, he looked at me with a grin. “You could come to the bar tonight.”

  “I could,” I said.

  He laughed as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward my apartment. Silence filled the truck cab but it wasn’t the least bit awkward. I stared at the window, reliving the afternoon, until he parked behind the coffee shop.

  “Thanks for hanging out,” he said as I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  “Thanks for lunch,” I said as I reached for the door handle. “Strangely enough, I enjoyed myself.”

  “See?” he said. “I knew you’d see my charm if you gave it a chance.”

  As I laughed, he leaned over to press his lips to mine. Surprised, I closed my eyes as something pleasant floated in my brain.

  He didn’t press it, just slowly leaned back, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

  “I hope I see you tonight,” he whispered, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “Okay,” I said as I hopped out the truck and jogged up the stairs to my apartment.

  Chapter Nine

  It took me until seven-thirty that night to decide to go to Rusty’s. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was getting myself into, but I’d enjoyed Evan’s company all day – what could possibly go wrong?
<
br />   The lot was fairly empty again, just like on Ladies’ Night, which made me happy. I didn’t want to fight the crowd for a seat at the bar or be stuck at a table by myself.

  When I walked inside, the few patrons already there turned as one to see who’d arrived, then turned back to their drinks. I didn’t spot a single coed – it seemed as if the older crowd had invaded the bar for the time being.

  I scrambled onto a barstool as Evan filled a plastic pitcher full of beer for a group of gentlemen at the other end of the bar. Once he finished, he filled a glass with diet soda and brought it to me.

  “I thought you’d come,” he said, gleeful.

  “I was bored,” I said, poking at the ice with my straw.

  “Sure,” he said. “Admit it; you can’t resist my raw, animal sexuality and charm.”

  “You’re quite full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  Laughing, he stepped back. “Do you want a menu?”

  “No. I ate at home,” I said, surveying the scene. “What’s the deal with the older crowd?”

  Lifting a shoulder, he grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar. “They usually hang out until later when the college kids start coming in.”

  “And is there a band tonight?”

  “No,” he said. “Not tonight. Usually only on Fridays unless Rusty has something special going on.”

  I nodded, glad. I enjoyed listening to Out Back, but I wasn’t in the mood for loud music that forced people to yell at each other in order to engage in conversation.

  Evan stayed busy, even though the crowd was small, refilling drinks and serving food from the kitchen. As I watched him work, I couldn’t help but to admire him. Not only was he handsome, but he had a long, lean body and his vintage tee stretched tightly across his chest, hinting that there might something worth looking at underneath. No wonder the girls flocked to the bar when he was working.

  Between customers, Evan stood in front of me, laughing and chatting, bringing up some of the things we’d done that day. He kept referring to the bulldog as Charlie and threatened to buy me one of the raunchier t-shirts we’d found that day. I was having fun, enjoying being in his company, and wondered briefly about the little kiss.

 

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