A Four Letter Word

by Michelle Lee

  Awww, hell.

  "Fine. Do what you gotta do, but there's one thing you are forgetting." I stab at my salad, welcoming the distraction of eating.

  "Zoey can't cook," Ashlee informs her cohorts.

  "Already taken care of. Antonio's will deliver a spectacular dinner. All you have to do is dish it out and serve it to that delicious man of yours," Geoffrey enlightens us.

  Patrick smiles; he's beaming, actually.

  "He's not exactly my man." At least not yet, I think.

  "Oh, after tonight, Sweetcheeks, he will be, if he isn't already. And we think he is already,” Patrick interjects.

  I have three sets of eyes roll at me. A little bit of their over-confidence finds its way across the table and slithers into my skin. "Okay, when does the torture begin?" I ask, slightly squirming in my seat. To have Ashlee make me up is one thing, but now I will have the three of them poking, prodding, and spackling.

  Let the fun begin.

  "We finish eating, and then we are off to pick up the things we need, swing by Martin’s and then back to our place to do you over," Geoffrey answers.

  Once again, our poor waiter hears the tail end of our conversation, drops the check, and quickly makes an exit.

  "He so needs a big tip," Ashlee recommends.

  "Oooo, we've got a big tip for Mr. Sweetbuns," Patrick coos, eyeing our waiter as he retreats.

  "Sorry, honey, that set of buns is closed up tighter than Fort Knox. I don't think our magic or talent could crack that crack," Geoffrey adds.

  I just look at the two of them, while Ashlee continues to munch away on her lunch. If I'm going to be hanging around these two I so need to…I don't even know. We finish eating, and the four of us make our way out into the cold. I so can't wait for what's to come.

  Joy, oh joy.

  ****

  Four long-ass hours later, and the three of them are finally finished with me. To say it was an experience to rival anything I've ever done or been through would be an understatement. One thing to come out of all this—I am no longer shy sitting in my bra and panties in front of two men who are somewhat strangers. But after the time we spent together this afternoon, we are like one big family now, especially since Patrick and Geoffrey saw my left boob. To say I was embarrassed when it popped out of my bra wouldn't be an exaggeration. I mean, apart from Ashlee and the few guys I've been with, no one else has ever seen my boobs. Patrick commented that they were nice, and he liked that they were natural and all. I guess that was a compliment. Geoffrey said Griffin would definitely enjoy them. Gah, yep…embarrassed just doesn't cover it.

  But I must say the blue sweater dress with black knee high boots they picked out is to die for. I don't think I ever want to wear anything else. I mean…cashmere; whoever decided to make clothes out of a goat is a genius. Yep, I love me some cashmere. Maybe I can make my whole wardrobe cashmere. I might have to go shopping with my new family very soon to remedy this.

  Anyway, I sit in Griffin's apartment. I feel kinda weird being here when he isn't, especially since I've never been here before. Geoffrey and Patrick insisted. Ashlee left with them about ten minutes ago, and now it's almost seven, and Griffin should be home any minute. Butterflies assault my stomach

  Dinner was delivered as Geoffrey and Patrick promised, and it smells fantastic. I've never been to Antonio's, but it is now on my list of places I will eat at. Geoffrey was adamant about the menu, saying garlic for a romantic dinner at home was a no-no. Who am I to argue? Garlic and kissing really don't go well together, and I hope tonight Griffin and I will be doing a lot of kissing.

  For about the thousandth time, I check the clock on the microwave. Six fifty-nine. Just as the clock turns seven, I hear keys wrestling in the lock.

  Griffin.

  He's home.

  He's here.

  Gulp.

  I hope he doesn't get mad at the fact that I am here waiting for him. I hope Geoffrey and Patrick were right about this. Why did they have to have a key? Why did they have to get involved? Before I can answer any of my questions, the door opens, and I immediately stand up from the coach, smoothing down my dress and hair. All my questions are answered when I am met with dancing blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. My heart flutters.

  "Zoey," Griffin's voice breaks the silence in the room, except for that of my pounding heart.

  "Hi, I hope it's oka—"

  Knowing what I am going to say, Griffin is in front of me in an instant, his lips on mine. I smile against him. He smiles back, effectively ending our kiss.

  "It's more than okay. I'm thrilled I came home to find you here. Remind me to thank Patrick and Geoffrey."

  "Oh, I will." I press my lips against his and eagerly claim his tongue with mine.

  Our tongues wrestle and tease each other for what seems like forever, and I am so not complaining. Kissing Griffin is like nothing I've ever experienced before. If he was my first kiss, it would have ruined all other kisses for me. The man knows how to work his lips and tongue. I shiver as his hand splays against the small of my back, pulling me closer to him. And that's when I feel the effect I have on him. His hard length presses against me. My fingers find their way into his hair, weaving their way through it as I pull him closer to me. Unfortunately, air is a necessity and the both of us pull away, panting as we do.

  "Zoey…I…just…wow…" Griffin says between pants.

  Rightbackatya, is all I can think; my lips are too numb to form words at the moment.

  "Dinner is waiting," I manage to get out, my breathing calming.

  He swallows and adjusts his tie, loosening it as he does.

  "Great, I'm…um…I'm starved," he barely says above a whisper. And when he looks at me, I get the feeling he's not starving for food, because right now at the very moment, I'm not starving for food. I'm starving for something else—I'm starving for him.

  "Right this way." I gesture to the table, but being the gentleman, he motions for me to go ahead of him.

  I may or may not swish my hips a little more than usual. My little actions cause him to moan. Dinner and this date are going to be—amazing!

  chapter 12

  Winter Break, Senior Year, Northwestern University

  "Zoey, are you sure you don't want to come home with me? My parents really won't mind," Ashlee asks me for about the hundredth time, pity, again, in her voice.

  "Ash, I swear, I'll be fine. I'm just gonna study, catch a movie or two, and…"

  "Sweetie, that's no way to spend Christmas. Please come home with me? It would mean so…"

  "Thanks, Ashlee, but, I wouldn't be great company…so not into the holiday spirit and all, ya know?"

  How can I be? My parents, at the last minute, decided to go on an Alaskan cruise. They said I was more than welcome to "tag" along, but even though they're my parents, I didn't want to feel like the third wheel. I think the cruise is more like a second honeymoon, rather than a holiday thing. So, yeah, don't want to be that third wheel. Besides, seeing your parents all googley-eyed and making out makes me what to upchuck my holiday cookies and eggnog.

  Ewwwwwww.

  "Zoey? Zoey? Hey, did you hear me?" Ashlee interrupts my inner ramblings.

  When I look up at her, she is weighed down with more luggage than is probably necessary for Winter Break, but that's my Ashlee.

  "No, sorry," I quickly apologize.

  She drops her bags and walks towards me. "I said, if you change your mind, I expect you to call me, okay?"

  I stand up from the couch. "Okay, I will."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  I know she won't push the issue anymore, and I love her for it. She hugs me goodbye and leaves. I flop back down on the couch, abandon my studying, and turn on the television. I'm so relieved we are out of that sorority house; it's so much easier to live off-campus. Don’t get me wrong, I did really like living at the sorority house, but being senior year and with the amount of studying I have this year; living at the sorority house wa
s a hindrance. Many of my “sisters” would rather stay up late and watch the latest chick flick then study and drink copious amounts of wine while doing so. Being quiet and going to bed at a decent time wasn’t really on the top of their priority list. So when Ash had enough of and I quote “One more sister putting her skanky jacked-up so in need of a pedicure feet into any pair of her designer shoes she was going to cut somebody” I suggested we move out and get a place of our own. Ashlee was packed before I finished asking.

  A Wonderful Life comes on the screen and I get cozy with my favorite comfy blanket. Maybe some holiday time with George is just what I need.

  ****

  Christmas Eve

  I pour myself a glass of eggnog with a very healthy shot of Captain Morgan's. The Captain makes everything taste better. I grab my comfy blanket and curl up on the couch. It's hard to believe it's actually Christmas Eve. It's less hard to believe I'm all alone. Campus is practically a ghost town as most students have gone home. Only a few are still around and unfortunately none of them are my friends. It's just me, myself, and I. I could still call Ashlee, but I just don't want to.

  Evan is spending Winter Break with his girlfriend, Paige, and her family. They flew out two days ago. Evan offered to buy me a ticket to join them, and although Paige said it was a good idea, I got the sneaking feeling it really wasn't. Her smile and her words said yes, but her eyes were saying no.

  Besides, there's only so much of the happy couple I can take. Don't get me wrong—I think Paige is great, and she and Evan are perfect for each other. It's just that being around that intense love they share makes my chest ache and my heart hurt. Evan may only be my best friend, but a part of me, a part of my heart, will always love him—love him more than I probably should.

  I settle further into the couch just as my favorite Christmas movie comes on—ChristmasVacation. Gotta love Clark Griswold and family. I can't help but laugh out loud when Clark loses it and attacks the plastic Santa and reindeer. I start sipping my second glass of eggnog, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Thank you, Captain. Just as Clark falls through the floor of the attic, there's a knock on my door—I think. I sit up and stare at it, thinking I must have confused Clark's crashing through the floor, but there's another knock. I hit mute on the remote and hesitantly make my way over to the door. I can't imagine who it could be—everyone I know has left campus, and I sure didn't order take out. Nope, definitely not going to be the pizza guy—although pizza now sounds kinda good. There's another impatient knock as I reach for the knob. I slowly turn the knob and open the door. My eyes rapidly blink in succession as I take in the person in front of me—Evan.

  Why?

  What?

  How?

  Why?

  I can't comprehend what he is doing here. I just stare at him for what seems like an eternity before I find the ability to speak. To say I'm surprised and slightly in shock would be an understatement. He doesn't look right; something is wrong. Evan looks—he looks broken.

  "Evan? What are you.." I still can't believe my eyes, and apparently my brain can't either, because the words won't finish coming out of my mouth. All I can do is continue to stare at him like some oddity in a freak show.

  Step right up and get a look at the odd and bizarre best friend that appears from out of nowhere.

  "Hi…um…can I come in?" Evan asks, his voice shaky.

  "Um, yeah…sure…come, come in," I utter, completely at a loss for words. I slowly move out of the way to let him in.

  Evan shakes his head as he passes me, takes off his coat, and then flops down on the couch once he reaches it. I squeeze my eyes tight and shake my head as I close the door. I think my mouth is still hanging open. I make my way over to him, and finally, my brain and mouth decide to work together—intelligently.

  "Um, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you, but why are you here, Evan? I thought you were spending the break with Paige and her family?"

  Evan sighs and rakes his hands through his hair. His head drops against the back of the couch. He looks exhausted—physically and emotionally.

  What the hell happened?

  He motions for me to sit beside him. I quickly take a seat and turn off the television. I'll spend Christmas with the Griswolds next year. He sits up and turns to face me. The expression on his face breaks my heart.

  What happened?

  My stomach twists in knots, and my mind races through different scenarios that would make him abandon his plans with Paige and make him look that way. That way. Then it hits me. The last time Evan showed up out of nowhere and looked like he does now was when…

  Dad.

  Dr. Harris, Evan's dad, was—or is—Dad's doctor when he was first diagnosed my freshman year in college.

  Maybe.

  No.

  It can't be.

  It's…it's…back?

  They really didn’t go on a cruise.

  I almost lost my dad once, I can't…

  There isn't enough air in the room. Everything is closing in on me. I can't breathe. The room starts to come in and out of focus. Dad's sick again. That's why Evan's here. That's why he looks the way he does. Dad's sick. I'm going to lose my dad this time. That's why he's left Paige's on Christmas Eve. Dr. Harris told him. Or maybe that’s why they needed to go on that Alaskan cruise. One last… They needed to be alone and didn't know how to tell me. Evan doesn't know how to tell me. I feel sick. Eggnog creeps back up my throat. Dad's sick. Dad’s…

  "Zoey, are you okay? Zoey, look at me," Evan demands.

  I look up at him, tears filling my eyes and making him blurry. I feel his hands on my shoulders, and they give me a hard squeeze and then a quick shake.

  "Zoey, what's wrong?"

  I frantically blink away the tears that cloud my vision and try to focus on him the best I can. It feels as though everything is pushing down on me. I feel like I'm being held underwater and I can't breathe. I gasp for air, and say only thing I can. "Dad?" Something crosses Evan's face, and his expression immediately changes.

  Concern mars his features. "Oh, Zoey. Shit. No, no. Your dad's fine, he's okay. You thought…I'm so sorry, so sorry. He's fine, everything's okay." The words rush from his lips.

  Evan's words slowly begin to seep into my brain as he wraps his arms tightly around me. "Dad is okay," echoes and bounces around in my head. I settle into his chest, his heartbeat a steady pounding and comforting rhythm in my ear.

  "Just breathe. Everything is okay. Just breathe. I'm here. It's going to be fine. Your dad's healthy—I promise," Evan murmurs, holding me even tighter.

  I can't count how many times we've been just like this—Evan holding me, comforting me. He's always been my rock, the one person who's been there for me—no matter what. My breathing finally evens out, and I slowly leave the comfort of his arms. Evan's hands slide up and down my arms before releasing me. I instantly miss them, but his hands find mine instead—still comforting me. My heart smiles. The realization that Dad isn't sick, that he'll be okay—he is okay—settles in, and my body completely relaxes.

  "Zoey, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. God, I'm such a fucking idiot. I should have known you would have thought that when I showed up…fuck." Evan shakes his head, his eyes closing, as he apologizes. I know he's mentally berating himself.

  A part of me wants to be angry, furious even, at him for making me think…I can't even say it...but another part of me—a bigger part—just can't, and it's because of the image of how he looked when I opened the door. It haunts me. He looked so broken, even more so than I've ever seen him before. And that other part of me wants to fix him—needs to fix him.

  Dad is fine.

  Dad is healthy.

  When Evan's eyes open, they glisten with unshed tears and are filled with so many emotions—hurt, anger, sadness, devastation. They stare right through me, as if he's just left. I don't think Evan sees me at the moment. I give his hands a gentle squeeze, and it seems to register where he is.

  "Zoey, I'm so sorr
y," he repeats, his voice shaky.

  "It's okay," I reassure him.

  Evan drops my hands and abruptly stands up, his fingers intertwining in his hair, pulling at it in frustration. He starts pacing. If I knew what was wrong, why he's here, I'm sure I could help. The one thing I know and learned about Evan is not to push; he'll tell me everything when he's ready. He turns to me, opens his mouth to say something, but immediately closes it and continues pacing. I watch him, noticing he's waging a war within himself. After a dozen or so treks across my floor, he stops. His shoulders slump, and he lets out a long-winded sigh. He's ready. I brace myself because this can't be anything but good. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

  Dad is fine.

  "Pai—Paige and I broke up." The words rush out of his mouth so fast, I'm afraid I didn't hear him correctly.

  I just stare at him and him back at me—waiting. I know there's more he wants to say before I react. But I'm already reacting inside. My heart is breaking for him—I know how much he loved—loves—Paige. And then my stomach coils, fire ripping through my veins.

  How could Paige break up with him? How could she do this to him? I so want to kick her ass!

  As if he can suddenly read my thoughts, he continues. "It was somewhat mutual. I…I mean it was mutual—after we talked things through. It just…I mean…I didn't think after I…"

  I am off the couch in a heartbeat and wrap my arms around him—offering whatever comfort I can give. It's my turn to be there for him. Evan slumps against me, and I feel wetness against my collar bone. My heart breaks completely for him.

  Why would she?

  How could she?

  Evan is the most amazing guy I have ever known. He has everything a girl could, or would, want in a boyfriend. Why would they break up? It just doesn't make sense. Every time I've been with them or have seen them from afar, there's no denying that they were meant for each other. Evan loves Paige with everything he has. We've sat and talked many times about how much he loves her, how much she means to him, and what he wouldn't do for her.