by Molly E. Lee
“What keeps you and Lindsay going strong?” I asked instead of answering him. “Magic? I mean, she’s obviously not into storms like you are.” I challenged him to take the spotlight off my relationship. Speaking about it out loud made me analyze it in ways I never had before, and the result knotted up my stomach.
“Honestly, I don’t know. We met at that party and then we just kind of happened. I’m not normally a serious relationship type guy.” A flush swept across his cheeks, and he glanced down.
“You played the field,” I said. He was smart and gorgeous. He could play all his life and never run out of partners.
“Yeah, you could say that. I’d never been in a relationship longer than a couple months. Thought I’d give it a try.”
“Something must’ve worked since it’s been a year,” I said.
“She cares for me. It’s a little intense at times, but I just got tired of the dating scene after a while, you know?”
I looked down at my nearly cleaned plate.
I had no idea what it was like to be single and have the freedom to browse. I glanced up at Dash, his bright green eyes holding mine. He was fully engaged in our conversation. He didn’t check his phone or have that glazed-over, tuned-out look.
If I could browse, I’d look for something in his section. My heart stuttered with the thought and heat rushed to my cheeks. Not that he’d ever notice me in that way; Lindsay and I were starkly different. I could never be the girl he wanted, an utlra-pretty, social butterfly, like her.
“You want anything else?” he asked.
I laid my napkin over my plate. “I’m throwing in the towel.”
He snatched the paper check the waitress had left at our table. “You did good. I would’ve had to leave you here if you’d only grabbed a fruit plate.” He winked at me and headed toward the counter.
“Don’t you want my share?” I asked, placing my hand on his forearm. His skin was warm stretched over the hard muscle. A hot tremble ran through my fingertips.
“No. You can get the next one,” he said and slipped out of my grasp.
My heart soared. The next one—and I hadn’t even had to beg.
“I’VE GOT TO meet Paul and John at the lab before we head out on our chase later. You want to come with?” Dash asked as we exited class.
“Absolutely,” I said, stopping myself from asking to go on the chase with them. It had only been two days since Dash took me to brunch, and I was still a new girl to their tight-knit group so I didn’t want to push.
Dash motioned for me to follow him. We walked a short way to the neighboring brick building where a string of labs were used by students for interpreting data. He turned into the third door on the right of a long hallway. John and Paul were already inside and hovered over a table against the back wall. It had four computers spaced evenly on top of it and there were more scattered throughout the room.
Various maps and pictures of supercells lined the walls, not unlike our Physical Meteorology classroom. The boys had three of the computer screens up and running, each one showing a different image from a weather satellite and a station model weather map beneath it.
I hung back a ways, allowing Dash to join them, but couldn’t help smirking a little. I’d learned my freshman year of college that I was sharp when it came to interpreting weather maps, especially station models. The combined data displayed—air pressure, temperatures, wind velocities, cloud cover, and precipitation measurements—gave some people trouble when adding them all together and predicting the outcome. But to me, all the numbers and patterns aligned in my head quicker than if I was doing basic math, and the outcome clearly presented itself in my mind. That is one reason I knew I’d be a great meteorologist, because I could interpret this data on the fly and hopefully provide the most up-to-date and accurate report possible for the people in the path of a storm.
“Hey, Blake,” John said over his shoulder.
Paul gave me a nod while talking to Dash in hushed conversation.
“Hi,” I said, trying to focus on one of the images of a supercell hanging over some small-town water tower, but my eyes kept shifting back to the screens the boys stared at, begging me to calculate, predict.
“Come here a second,” Dash said after a few moments.
I set my bag on the table in front of me and quickly headed over. “Yeah?”
“We need you to settle something for us,” he said, eyeing Paul. “We’re about to head out on a chase, but there are two locations primed for tornado activity. I think this one with the squall line”—he pointed to the screen in the middle—“has more of a shot.”
“And I disagree,” Paul said, pointing to the screen on the right. “This one has a better chance.”
Dash sucked his teeth. “You see our problem.”
I leaned over Paul, who hadn’t moved from his seat in front of the screens. I glanced at each image of the sky the weather satellites provided for the two locations and then studied both station models beneath them. I had my answer within two minutes.
“I agree with Paul,” I said.
“What makes you do that?” Dash asked.
“Because”—I placed my hand on Paul’s shoulder with one hand and reached over to point at the middle of the screen with the other—“while you are correct about this awesome line of organized storms, they’ll most likely only produce damaging winds. Intense, sure, but not as likely for tornado activity as this one.” I pointed to the screen on the right with the collection of large gray bubble-like clouds covering the sky. “This combination of mammatus clouds and the warm temperature are primed for producing a tornado. Check out the wind velocity already,” I said, pointing it out on the surface map. “In fact”—I glanced at the clock in the upper right-hand corner of the screen—“hit refresh on the image. I bet you in the time we’ve been discussing this there is already an updraft developing.”
Paul clicked refresh.
Dash smacked him on the back once the image reloaded. “She’s right. Time to go.” He turned to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Nicely done. That was fast.”
“Wicked fast,” John said, scooting away from the table and gathering his gear.
Paul flashed Dash a knowing grin before glancing back at me. “Yeah, you did all right.” He smiled and walked toward the door.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” Dash said. “And thanks.”
“Anytime,” I said, stopping myself from adding a be careful to the end of that statement. They chased for a living and knew what they were doing, but the concern for their safety was hard to ignore. I hung back to check out the other images pulled up on the screens, but turned my attention back to the boys as they exited the room.
Dash nudged Paul with his elbow as they walked through the door and whispered, “Told you she could do it.”
I sank into the seat Paul had once occupied, my heart swelling. They’d given me a test and Dash had been the one to believe in me. The sensation was new and totally blissful as I turned back to the screens, staring at the location where my prediction sent them.
“You ready?” Justin asked once I’d opened the door for him.
I smiled and nodded.
“Great, let’s go,” he said and swung around.
I climbed into his truck, my stomach twisting in anticipation. Justin had called last night and told me to be ready to go out at noon; he had a surprise for me. My jaw had nearly dropped to the floor, and it had taken me a good thirty seconds to respond. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been spontaneous.
I’d seen Dash every day since we’d had brunch last week, whether it be in class, hanging out in the weather lab, or going out to eat, and he more than fulfilled the intense longing I had for a true friendship.
But Justin didn’t know that.
I’d battled with myself ever since the first night I hung out with Dash, but in the end, I’d decided it was better if Justin believed I was studying on campus or working when I wasn’t with him
. I didn’t like hiding it from him, but I also couldn’t stand another ultimatum, and I was sure he’d give me one if I confessed how close Dash and I had grown as friends. Even if it was innocent, Justin would find a way to make me feel guilty about it. So, if I was going to feel guilty anyway, at least this way I got to keep Dash’s friendship. And I hoped one day, possibly after I figured out how to get the two of them to meet so Justin could see how awesome Dash was, that I wouldn’t have to be so secretive about it.
“Here we are,” Justin said after a short drive. A genuine smile lit up his sharp-angled face. He navigated the truck into a parking spot in front of a bookstore connected to the mall.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, stepping out of the truck.
He reached for my hand. “I feel like I never see you anymore.”
“I told you my last two years in school would be heavy,” I said. It was the truth, if not absolute. Sure, I’d spent some extra time with Dash and the guys but never when I was supposed to be with Justin. When Justin would call, I was there. It wasn’t my fault he assumed I’d just sit at home and wait by the phone until he did. It was better this way. The blowup wouldn’t be worth the full-truth, and it wouldn’t be merited anyway.
“I guess I didn’t realize how engrossed you’d be with it all. You missed my call yesterday. I’d wanted to take you to lunch.” He tugged me toward the entrance to the bookstore.
I let the confusion show on my face. I’d had my cell on me the whole day, which I’d spent in the weather lab with the boys. He hadn’t tried to call.
“So where were you, Blake?” he asked, as he held the door open for me.
“On campus. Studying. Where else would I be?” I swallowed hard, the sharpness in his eyes making my chest tight. That look was exactly why I couldn’t let him know every detail of my free time.
He was silent for a few moments before he nodded. “Next time text me if you’re going to stay on campus on your breaks, okay? I go crazy when I don’t know where you are.”
I forced a smile, wondering why his words irked me more today than normal. He’d said the same things to me since I started school and I’d never questioned it. He’d always wanted me to check in once I got home or went to work, that wasn’t a big deal. But now that I had to hide my newly-formed friendships from him, I wondered how much his need to know where I was constantly was out of love or out of the need to control every facet of my life.
The smell of fresh paper and hot coffee wafted over me as we walked deeper into the store, the scents grounding me in the present. I shook my head, tossing the thoughts off as the over-analyzer I was.
“Pick out a couple. Any you want, I’m buying,” Justin said and released my hand. His tone was even and he smiled, helping to shove my earlier concerns and irritation down.
“Thank you.” I turned down an aisle, gazing at the variety of beautifully covered books.
His gesture made a flood of memories rush through me, like the tide of the ocean that had drawn so far away from my toes in the sand I thought it’d never come back.
Memories of when we were younger—our walks around the neighborhood that seemed endless and yet always ended too soon. Where we would let the moon and lampposts guide us as we walked and talked, discovering each other.
The special expanse of black walnut trees where he’d told me about his mom abandoning him, how he’d never known his real father, and how his aunt and uncle treated him like an inconvenience. I’d held his hand for the first time that day and told him about the screaming matches between my mom and dad, how Dad constantly had to buy new dishes or appliances because he’d break them during a fight, and how the arguments were increasing in frequency. He’d rushed to meet me in that spot, no matter the time, whenever I’d called him, frantic after another fight between my parents.
The phone calls that carried on late in the night—well beyond the warnings from Mom to end the conversation for bedtime—after his aunt and uncle had moved him across town.
The Justin I remembered brought a warmth to my heart and a longing for him to be that compassionate again. He’d lost the sweetness somewhere between high school and now. The blowups started his sophomore year, the same year he’d been kicked out of his home and had to fend for himself.
Now, as he followed me down the adult paranormal section, that sweet side of Justin didn’t seem as far away. I’d often hoped one day I’d be able to help draw out a balance in him, one where the boy I fell in love with would merge with the man he could be if he allowed his motivations to go beyond that of Xbox points and most beer cans collected. As he trailed behind me, I thought perhaps this was a small step toward that balance. Maybe he wouldn’t care if I told him about Dash and the guys, maybe he’d actually want to meet them.
“I know you’ll be a while, so I’m going to look around. Come find me when you’re done,” he said, cutting through my thoughts.
“All right,” I answered, watching him turn and walk away.
I lost myself then, amongst the books and memories of Justin. Like the times he’d show up outside my high school after classes had ended, a new DVD and a sack full of glorious junk food in his truck, and nothing but time to watch it and laugh and simply be together. If I’d known then that those moments would disappear over the years, I may have treasured them a bit more.
I finally settled on a couple of novels, clutching them to my chest as I took a slow stroll through the store, scanning the aisles for Justin. First the Blue October tickets and now this. My chest tightened a fraction, and ice settled in my stomach with the thought of the reward he’d expect when we arrived home.
I pushed the thought away, allowing his sweet spontaneity to take over, and contemplated sashaying through the erotica novels. Perhaps a quick skim of one and I could find the answer to our problem—or my problem as he’d so often put it.
A vibration in my pocket distracted me and I pulled my cell phone out.
Want to grab a late lunch? Dash texted.
A warmth bloomed inside my chest. This was my chance. Justin was in a great mood, and it would be the perfect time to introduce them—put an end to hiding my new friends.
I searched harder for Justin. The thought of the two meeting made me a little anxious. I wanted them to like each other, but they were polar opposites.
When I didn’t lock on to his tall frame anywhere in the store, I deflated. I know I’d taken a little over a half an hour in the overwhelming obstacle of choosing just two books, but I thought that was pretty reasonable.
After two unanswered calls to his cell—guess it was perfectly fine for him to ignore my calls—and twenty minutes of waiting, I gave up and bought the books myself. I grabbed my bag with the novels nestled inside and headed toward the exit leading into the main area of the mall. I had an easy guess where he was.
A short walk and two turns later, I entered the video game store. Huge neon signs reading One Day Only, 60% Off Store Wide bombarded the glass windows at the entrance, hung on the walls, and stood on stands throughout the aisles. The store was packed, too, people crowding the rows of games separated into which console they went with, and a line snaked out the exit.
I spotted Justin in the 360 section, four games tucked under one arm as he scanned another with his free hand.
“Justin,” I said, weaving through five boys just to get to him.
He glanced up from the game he held. “Some sale, huh?”
“You knew about it.” It wasn’t a question or an accusation, just a fact.
He shrugged. “I may have heard about it last week.”
I sighed, eyeing the games in his hands. “Don’t you already have that one?” I pointed to the one I recognized under his arm.
“Yeah, but this is a special edition. You get four exclusive maps with it.” He grabbed it and showed it to me.
My stomach tied into knots. I glared at the games, sizing up my competition. Sadness slithered through my blood when I realized how many times they’d beat
en me.
“You found some books?” Justin asked, glancing at the bag in my hand.
“Yeah,” I said, holding the bag up and shrugging.
“I’ll get the next ones for you, okay?” he said and went back to browsing the games on the shelf.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“Actually, I’m going to need to borrow some money.” He gave me puppy eyes, but he looked more desperate than charming.
I gripped the bag I held a little tighter. “How much?”
Justin eyed the games in his hands, then looked over the endless array before him. “A couple hundred should do it.”
My mouth dropped and I scoffed. “You’re joking!”
“This is a once-a-year sale, Blake.”
“Why didn’t you save up for it then?” I asked. An image of the new stereo he’d bought for his truck last week popped into my mind. Followed by a visual of the subwoofer he had on hold to go with it.
“Oh, come on, it’s not like you ever buy anything with your paychecks,” he whined.
He knew most of the money I earned went to rent, books, and food. Whatever I had left I saved, other than treating myself to the occasional book or movie.
“I know you’ve got plenty in your savings. I’ll pay you back,” he urged.
He had yet to pay me back for the money he’d borrowed last year for a new set of fishing poles. I sighed. The money wasn’t what really bothered me.
“This is why you brought me here today, isn’t it?” Anger simmered in my gut, setting the tight knots on fire.
“What is the big fucking deal, Blake? This way we both get what we want.”
What I really wanted was time with him that didn’t come with conditions or arguments or lectures on where and how I spent my time. I swallowed the lump in my throat. His actions today had nothing to do with me. God, I was stupid sometimes.