Stolen

by Jalena Dunphy

  Oh my God! What if she did see Kyle talking to me?

  Rachel: What was up with you bailing like that? You kinda looked crazy. I didn’t want Kyle to think you were nuts so I covered and told him you were really into school and liked to study whenever you could.

  Oh great, now I look like a complete geek with absolutely no life. It’s irrelevant that I don’t have a life right now.

  Me: I told you earlier that I needed to study. I shouldn’t have taken the time I did. I didn’t mean to seem like I was bailing. It just seemed like you two were hitting it off and probably didn’t need the third wheel anyway.

  Rachel: Do you think we were hitting it off? I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, then after you left he ended up having to go, too, so I didn’t get very far. He’s cute though, right?

  Me: Yeah, he is. Do you know him outside of class?

  Rachel: I’ve seen him on campus and in the cafeteria, but no, that was pretty much the first time we’ve talked. I think I’m going to ask him to the party Friday at Mike’s house, though. I have a little black dress I’ve been waiting to put to good use (wink, wink)

  Great, he’s moved to black dress worthy.

  Me: Sounds good. But who’s Mike?

  Rachel: He’s in our English Lit class. Kyle kinda knows him so I don’t think it’ll be weird if I just ask if he’s going and tell him I’ll be there. You so have to come with me and make sure I don’t make a fool out of myself, and besides we need to find you someone to get you out of the books and into real life!

  Just what I need, help my friend get the guy I want; and how do I not know this person, Mike? I’m in that class, too, yet I don’t seem to know anyone from it. Maybe she’s right, I do need to get out and notice the living.

  Me: I don’t have time for a relationship.

  Rachel: I never said anything about a relationship! Live a little. This is college. When else will you be able to be this carefree?

  She does have a point, but a random hookup? Although, maybe a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, and if Kyle were to see . . . No! Not yours!

  Me: I’ll think about it.

  Maybe, if I’m lucky, she’ll forget about this by Friday.

  Rachel: Great! And don’t think you’re getting off the hook. I’m going to nag you all week so that by Friday you won’t be able to contain yourself. You’re going to be dying to go to this party!

  So much for forgetting. I guess I have another three days to hear about this.

  Me: I’ve g2g but I’ll think about going with you. Ok?

  Rachel: There’s no thinking. You’re going! Meet for coffee tomorrow? I’m done at 1:30. You?

  Me: 2

  Rachel: Cool. I’ll wait for you. See ya

  Fantastic! Now I’ll no doubt get to hear all about Kyle and this party and who I should go for or what I should wear.

  The boiling of the water in the pot on the stove brings me back to reality and back to what I’m good at, cooking dinner, taking care of my family, and focusing on school. Turning down the temperature on the stove, I put in the pasta, heat the sauce, and let my mind drift to a life different from this.

  Maybe there’s more out there that I should be taking advantage of? Oh, who am I kidding, of course there’s more. The question is, do I take a chance and break the mold I’ve been in since I turned sixteen? I’ve changed so much since then. I’ve become a total recluse. Maybe it’s time I step back out into the world of the living.

  The front door opens and I hear my sister call for me. Time to see what her day was like and give my mind a rest.

  After dinner, and a lengthy conversation with Cass about a new boy in school who’s “absolutely gorgeous,” her words, not mine, I collapse onto my bed and close my eyes. It’s so nice to hear her talk about a boy. I’m so proud of her for trying to move on after what she went through with Luke.

  I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and I especially hadn’t meant to sleep for over ten hours, waking up to my sister telling me I’m going to be late for class, but this is how my day is starting. It’s almost eight o’clock in the morning! My first class is in 45 minutes, which means I have less than 25 minutes at best to get ready and get there on time.

  I hate running late like this. What happened? I don’t even feel rested from it; in fact, I feel worse than I did when I laid down. I grab a granola bar as I’m running out the door and already feel drained without having my morning caffeine fix.

  This day is going to suck!

  By the time two o’clock rolls around, I’m a total grump. No caffeine and only a granola bar as the fuel for the first half of my day does not a happy Jess make. I feel afraid for Rachel.

  I spot her immediately at a corner table and am relieved to see a second cup of coffee on the table; she’s a saint for already having ordered mine. As I’m stepping closer, my relief washes away. That cup isn’t for me.

  I must look like a deer caught in headlights as I stare at Rachel and, who else, but Kyle. There’s still time to turn around. I can just text Rachel that I got held up in class and couldn’t make it, but I can’t seem to get my feet to cooperate with my brain, so I watch as Kyle smiles and Rachel laughs, touches his arm, flips her hair, and giggles. Oh, my God she actually giggled. I may have to reconsider this friendship after all. How can I be friends with a girl who does the whole hair flip, touchy feely, giggling thing?

  I have to turn. I have to leave. I have to get away. I have to pull myself together; that’s what I have to do. I’m acting like a complete fruitcake, and I must look like one, too, if the looks I’m getting right now are any indication. I don’t know why people are looking at me like this. Haven’t they ever seen a perfectly sane girl freak out over seeing a guy and a girl sitting at a table talking and drinking coffee before?

  Okay, I’m going to pretend I never came, pretend I never saw the guy I like talking with the girl I’m friends with, but would throw over a cliff if it meant a chance to be the one talking to the guy I like that she likes and liked first, but who may like me and not her, or who thinks I’m as crazy as everyone else right now who’s walking so far around me I feel like I have the plague. Is there a plague that causes stupidity, or at least one that makes the brain string a long run-on sentence together?

  As soon as my feet finally decide to cooperate and move toward the exit, wouldn’t you know that would be when Kyle would look up from his cup and directly at me who’s staring directly at him for no apparent reason.

  So much for leaving.

  I put a smile on and strut toward their table, and yes, I did say strut. I’m walking like I’m on a runway, or like I have a stick up my ass. It’s pathetic either way and not being pulled off very well, considering I’m in skinny jeans, an old concert tee, and converse sneakers.

  Of course Rachel would look like she actually did just walk off a runway; she has on dark blue flare jeans, a pink, glittery, spaghetti strapped tank top, and purple heels? Who wears stuff like that to school? She looks like she should be going out to a club, not a college class.

  The only thing I have going for me right now is that I didn’t wear yoga pants like I was going to do. That might make up for the fact I haven’t showered, I have no makeup on, and my hair looks like a rat may have burrowed in and died before it could find a way out. Great.

  “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” I say as nonchalantly as I can in hope that my actions, or lack thereof, a few moments ago won’t be discovered.

  “Not much; where the hell have you been? It feels like I’ve been waiting forever, but at least I had someone to keep me company.”

  Ugh! Did she really have to go making those googly eyes at Kyle when she said that? This is going to suck just as bad as I was afraid it would.

  “Yeah, sorry; I got caught up, then I didn’t see you right away.” That probably would have worked better if it were busy like it normally is in here, but right now it’s actually pretty slow; guess that’s why people were willing to walk around me before and not use me as
a punching bag to get to the front of the line. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings before so I could have made up a better lie. Too late now. I can see neither one believes me, but don’t understand why I would lie about something so stupid.

  “Yeah, um, okay. I guess you get tunnel vision when you’re in need of caffeine, huh?”

  I could hug her right now for covering for my seemingly strange behavior, but since she’s part of the reason I’m acting this way, I think I’ll avoid that.

  “I’m sorry to say this, but you look like shit, girl.”

  Okay, I take back that desire to hug her.

  “Seriously? I thought I was pulling this look off pretty well.” When in doubt, make fun of yourself before anyone else gets the chance. Hopefully this works because I can’t take being the brunt of any jokes, especially right now in front of Kyle.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to seem mean; it’s just that you don’t look like your normal self. Did you not sleep or something?”

  “Actually, the problem is, I slept too much. I laid down last night, just to take a breather, and ended up waking up ten hours later to my sister telling me I had to hurry up if I wanted to make it to class. This day hasn’t gotten any better either since I never did get to have coffee this morning, so I’m sorry if I don’t look great right now,” I say with an emotionless shrug.

  “Did you have any good dreams? At least if you had, that would make this day better, right?” There’s a twinkle of mischief in Kyle’s eyes as he picks on me, and I wish I could smack him for what he’s doing to me right now. Of course, he may not know what he’s doing to me and he’s just teasing me. After all, how would he know that he affects me so much, or that I did in fact have a mildly interesting dream last night, which may or may not have starred him in all his glory? I hope my face isn’t giving away that lustful memory.

  “No, nothing of any interest. Too bad because I could have used a good, heated, R-rated kind of dream last night after the day I had.” Two can play at this game. But did I really just say an R-rated dream? I’ll slap myself on the head later for that one. In the meantime, though, at least I do seem to get a rise, albeit a small one, out of him as witnessed by the subtle blush rising up his neck right now. I smile to myself.

  Trying hard not to laugh, he manages to get out, “Did you really just say that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say anything like that, especially in a normal conversation. Kudos. Well, Jess, who had no R-rated dreams last night, would you like a cup of coffee, my treat?” he asks with a smile and a wink.

  “If you’re offering, I’m drinking. It’s probably best I get some caffeine in me before I attempt a rational conversation.”

  “You mean that wasn’t rational conversation just now? I think I might hold the coffee if that’s the type of conversation I can have with you when you’re on caffeine withdrawal.”

  I laugh it off and shove him in the chest, pushing him closer to the register but that’s a mistake because I get a hands on, literally, feel of what’s under his loose t-shirt. Damn, I don’t think my dream did him justice. I see his smile waver from the contact, but he recovers and feigns pain, putting his hands up in mock surrender while backing up toward the register.

  That was too close. I slide into the seat he just vacated and keep my attention focused on Rachel.

  “So, I didn’t know what you drank; kinda forgot to ask you before I got in line, but the guy up there said you like skinny vanilla lattes. Was he right or just messing with me? I didn’t know if he was trying to help me out or make me look like an idiot when I brought this back to you,” Kyle says upon returning with a steaming cup in hand.

  I smile, extend my hand to grab the cup, and assure him that that’s the drink I always order. A relieved smile stretches across his face, and he surrenders the cup he’s holding into my proffered hand.

  Time flies, and an hour later, the three of us are packing up and heading out the now packed café onto the sidewalk. Conversation had been so smooth the last hour between the three of us, a welcomed change for me, but now I don’t know what to say or do. Do I just say bye and leave Rachel to talk to Kyle alone? Do I stay with Rachel while Kyle leaves? Luckily, I don’t have to make that decision.

  “So,” Rachel starts. “Are you planning on going to the party Friday night at Mike’s?” I watch Kyle’s face, trying to seem uninterested in his response, but really my body is humming with anticipation for his answer.

  Please be going! I don’t know when I became so enthused over this party, but now all my synapses are firing, and they’re firing directly toward Kyle. I want to go and I want to see him there. I know it’s wrong, what with Rachel and all, but this past hour has sparked something in me that I would love to explore, even if it can’t be with him. Rachel is right that I need to get out there and find someone to distract me from the convent I’ve assigned myself to be imprisoned in.

  I catch his eyes rest on me, and for one gloriously sinful moment, I can tell I’m not the only one who’s felt something sparking between us. He recovers quickly, seeming as uninterested in giving his response as I had tried to be in hearing it, when he shrugs and says to Rachel, “Maybe. Are you guys planning on going?” It’s probably just my imagination, but he seems nervous waiting for our answers, less confident than he normally is.

  I let Rachel answer, if she doesn’t want to go any more, then I won’t be going, so why say yes when the answer may be no, depending on what she says. I wait anxiously.

  “Absolutely we’ll be there!” She smiles and jabs him in the chest, telling him that he has to come now since we are.

  I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him again. Intently observing a crack in the sidewalk beneath my feet, I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks. This is my first college party and that, along with the prospect of seeing Kyle in a more relaxed social setting, is making my heart and stomach do uncomfortable things right now.

  I want to leave, but I force myself not to run like I did last time.

  “Well, that’s cool. I’ll probably stop by, so maybe I’ll see you both there.” I finally chance a look his way and see him staring intently at me. While still holding my gaze he says, “I’ll see you Friday,” then he’s gone and I’m left staring at his back as he walks away.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Rachel squeals into my ear once Kyle is out of sight. “We have to find you something to wear now so you’re ready for Friday!”

  “Why are you so excited and why do we have to do it now? The party isn’t for another two days,” I point out.

  “Because now that I know Kyle will definitely be there I won’t have time to make both of us drop dead gorgeous all in one night. We have to plan this out now so there’s a strategy come Friday night.”

  “Why do you care what I look like? I mean, really, am I that bad looking that you think I can’t dress myself? I have been known to clean up, you know. I just don’t waste my time when I’m only going to class, then back home. Give me some credit, would ya? And besides, he didn’t say he would ‘definitely’ be there, so you might be freaking out over nothing.”

  It’s as if she stopped listening to me as soon as I began speaking. She doesn’t acknowledge anything I just said, instead grabs my hand and drags me down the sidewalk, causing me to stumble and nearly land on my face more than once. I finally yell at her to slow down, pointing out that if she doesn’t, I’ll end up going with a broken nose, a look I’m sure she wouldn’t like.

  We stop in front of a red car that looks brand new, and expensive. I don’t know what it is, I’ve never been able to tell a Volvo from a BMW, but I know it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before.

  I pause and gawk at it. Rogan would have drooled over this if he had seen it. I look over the top of the hood and see Rachel is standing by an open driver’s side door looking expectantly at me. I’m dumbfounded. “Is this yours?”

  She looks incredulously at me as if I just hinted at the possibi
lity that we were stealing it, then actually blushes. “Yeah, my dad kinda bought it for me as a graduation present. I know it’s pretentious, but I couldn’t deny it since he went through the trouble of buying it, and I do sort of love it now.” She looks contritely at me and I feel bad for making her feel like I’m judging her. It’s just that I’ve never known anyone who could afford a car like this.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad; I just didn’t know you had a car, let alone one this nice. My ex would have flipped if he had seen this.” I’m still staring at it, mesmerized, lost in thought when I realize what I’m thinking, or more precisely, who I’m thinking about, and suddenly I feel completely shattered.

  I can’t see the car anymore through the tears flooding my eyes. I clutch my chest and beg. Oh, please not now. Not in front of Rachel. Not on the curb of a very public, busy, sidewalk. Please, just let me breathe. This is just another hour of another day. Please . . . I silently beg the same unseen force that sentenced me to this life in the first place. I’m not sure anymore what I’m begging for, but I keep right on begging.

  I feel arms around me as I collapse onto the cold pavement.

  Chapter Four

  Three years ago . . .

  “Babe, I know you probably don’t want to go out, but I think it might do us good, and I think you’ll like where I’m taking you.”

  I force a smile and nod. That’s all I’ve done lately, and even that is draining, but it’s our one-year anniversary and I’ve known since before everything happened that Rogan had been planning something romantic. I can’t ruin this for him.

  We’re sitting in his car in front of my house, having just come back from eating breakfast, or more so him eating and me picking at the same pancake for half an hour. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. When I see he’s looking at me with the same sad expression he’s had on his face since the last time I freaked out on him, which was just last night, I wish so badly that he didn’t look so sad and that I wasn’t the one who was making him look like that, but I can’t seem to break free from this horrid monster that I’m bound to.