by Sky Corgan
“You can buy groceries with this,” he told me.
I took the money, giving it a puzzled look. “Are you going to drive me to the grocery store?”
“You told me you didn't mind taking the bus. I'm sorry, Kimlet, I have work to do right now.”
I grumbled internally at the pet name. To add insult to injury, he mussed up my hair before retreating to his office. I'm not a little kid anymore, God damn it. How long before he starts treating me like an adult?
With a sigh, I returned to my room and pulled out my laptop to check the bus schedule. Apparently, the money would have to cover my bus fare too. To say the least, I wasn't pleased. How could he possibly expect me to buy a lot of groceries if I had to carry them on the bus? It seemed like he was just trying to get rid of me.
Two bags full, that's all I can get, I told myself as I headed to the bus stop. It was going to be a long miserable day. I could already tell. I just hoped that it wasn't going to be a long miserable two years of college.
By the time I returned from the grocery store, my arms were aching from carrying the bags of groceries all the way from the bus stop to the condo. I had over-shopped, so I ended up with four bags instead of two. And milk is damn heavy when you have to haul a gallon long distance on top of other things.
When Dominick came to the door, he took over, carrying the bags the rest of the way inside, though he left them in the kitchen, so I could unpack them. I scowled at his backside as he returned to his office. Lazy bones. When did he become so dismissive?
I decided to try not to let it bother me. I had said that I was going to make his life easier, and apparently, feeding me had never been a part of his plan. The least I could do was put away the groceries I had forced him to pay for.
When I finished putting the groceries away, I finally got to eat a bowl of cereal. At that point, it was already past noon, and my stomach was practically devouring itself. Hunger pangs had been racking through me since I first made it to the bus stop. It had been a horrible morning, but at least tomorrow I wouldn't have to go through the same thing.
After breakfast, I made myself a sandwich, trying to catch up on my meals for the day. Then when lunch was over, I started preparing dinner. As far as I could tell, Dominick hadn't gone out to eat yet, so I was sure he would be getting hungry soon.
Since I had to carry all the groceries myself, I decided to make something simple. Spaghetti and meatballs was on the menu tonight. Hopefully, it would stretch until Dominick was willing to take me to the grocery store so that I could get him stocked up on the ingredients I would need to cook other meals.
About half-way through preparing dinner, Dominick came into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He looked over my shoulder, sniffing at the pot of bubbling spaghetti sauce.
“What's that?” he asked.
“Spaghetti and meatballs. As I recall, it used to be one of your favorites.”
“It still is,” he replied, returning to his office without another word.
When dinner was ready, I knocked on his office door. I felt like an annoyance, bothering him while he was working, but I wanted him to eat while it was still hot.
“What?” He looked up at me.
“Dinner is ready,” I told him meekly.
“Alright. I'll be out in a few minutes.”
I nodded, returning to the kitchen to get the place settings for the dining room table. When everything was set up, I waited for Dominick. Luckily, he didn't take too long.
“What's this?” he asked, standing in front of the table and looking at it like he'd never seen plates and silverware before.
“I told you I was going to make you dinner.”
“It's not even five o'clock yet.”
“You're hungry though, aren't you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then sit down and I'll serve you.”
Hesitantly, he pulled out a chair and took a seat. As I walked back to the kitchen with his plate, I wondered what was wrong with him. He had been acting so strange ever since he picked me up from the airport.
I served Dominick first and then myself, sitting down to eat across from him. Most of the meal was spent in silence, though he did compliment my cooking, which made me feel good. By the time he was done eating, his plate was completely empty. It filled me with a sense of pride to know he enjoyed my cooking, like I was doing something right.
After we finished eating, he returned to his office, where he stayed for the rest of the night. I did the dishes and retreated to my own room, feeling like a roly poly from all the food I had eaten. I'd had three meals practically back to back. It was the most I'd eaten in such a short span in a long time.
In the following days, I got a feel for Dominick's routine, or lack thereof. He practically lived in his office, though he'd come out for meals and to take a shower at night. Occasionally, he'd go to the gym, but that was about it. I had never met such a hermit in all my life.
While our exchanges of conversation were brief, I did feel like he was starting to warm up to me a little. Perhaps I had been too hard on him when I first arrived. He was always polite and nice and considerate, and no matter how many times I barged into his office while he was working, he never got mad.
When I wasn't cooking or cleaning, I stayed in my room so that I wouldn't bother him. Thankfully, the internet provided enough entertainment to tide me over until school started, though by the time the first day of school arrived, I was admittedly going a bit stir-crazy.
That morning, Dominick and I both got up early. He donned his business suit for the second time I had seen him wear it, and then we walked out the door and went to the garage, which was detached from the rest of the building. I nearly crapped my pants when he clicked the opener and revealed a brand new red Maserati GranTurismo convertible.
“What happened to the Frankenstein car?” I asked jokingly as I set my backpack on the floorboard.
He huffed. “Dead and buried, like so many other things.”
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't like the darkness behind his words. There was a lifelessness about Dominick that I couldn't put my finger on. In fact, it seemed like he just went through the motions every day. Get up. Work. Eat. Go to the gym. Go to bed.
I was glad to have something else to worry about when he dropped me off in front of the college. This was the real reason I was here. It was time to get my learning on.
The first day of school was hectic, but I made it through. I was happy to see that most of the other students were around my age, and I hoped that I'd eventually settle in and make some friends, even if I couldn't bring them back to Dominick's place. For as much as I cared about him, as things were, I couldn't imagine him being the only one in my world for the next two years.
When Dominick picked me up that afternoon, I felt awkward as the other students stared at his car and made comments. I could hear some of them talking, wondering who he was. It made me feel a bit uncomfortable, and I found myself walking faster just so that we could hurry up and leave.
“How was your first day of college?” Dominick asked when I opened the car door to step inside, not even bothering to turn to me, his eyes and emotions hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“It was good,” I replied, staring out the window, watching dozens of heads follow the car as it drove away.
“What's your favorite class?”
“Probably The Electronic Game Industry.”
“What's your major?” I could see his eyebrows crease.
“Video game design.”
“That should make you popular with the boys.”
The comment sounded dry, and I couldn't tell if he meant it as sarcasm or not, but I chose to ignore it. He had no business caring about how popular I was with the boys. I was a grown woman now, after all.
Thankfully, instead of going back to the condo, Dominick took me to get groceries. I piled stuff into the cart enthusiastically, not even caring about the total until
we actually got to the register. When the cashier rang us up to the tune of over three-hundred dollars, I cringed.
“I'm sorry, do you want me to put some of this back?” I asked, cowering.
“It's fine,” he replied, whipping out his credit card and handing it to the cashier.
The abundance of groceries barely fit in the trunk of his car, and it took four trips for me to get it all inside once we got back to the condo. As normal, Dominick retreated to his office, leaving most of the work for me. I couldn't help but wonder if he actually was working, or if he was busy playing video games or watching porn and ignoring me half of the time.
When all the groceries were put away, I started on dinner. Dominick came out of his office to eat with me, and then I did the dishes, and we went our separate ways. This must be what living with a roommate was like. We co-inhabited the same space, but we really didn't speak a lot or spend time together. Maybe it was better that way. After all, I would only be here for two years. There was no point in getting too attached.
The next day at school, I was greeted with the same stares and whispers as we arrived in front of the college in the Maserati. I could almost feel the eyes following me as I got out of the car and walked up to the building. Perhaps I should insist on taking the bus after all. I certainly didn't need the attention.
In my Society and Business class, we were forced into three-man groups to work on a project. I was paired with a peppy girl with hair as curly as mine and a charming looking blonde boy. The girl quickly introduced herself as Carmen Rucks and then launched right into questions about the Maserati.
“Your parents must be loaded,” she commented. “Why are you going to school at a community college?”
“The car doesn't belong to my parents,” I replied nervously.
“Oh. Is it yours?” Her eyes widened at the prospect.
“No.”
“A boyfriend?” Her excitement was completely unmerited and almost annoying.
“Carmen, leave her alone. Geez, you're so nosy,” the boy complained. Then he turned to me with a grin. “Seriously though, who does the car belong to? I don't know anyone around here that can afford a car like that.”
“It belongs to a family friend,” I told them.
“A rich family friend?” Carmen asked.
“Obviously. How many poor people do you know who drive around in Maseratis.” The boy rolled his eyes.
“Oh, shut it, Victor. I'm just trying to make conversation and be friendly,” she barked at him.
“It's fine.” I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “Um, he's an author, actually. The guy who owns the car, I mean.”
“Oh, cool.” Carmen immediately calmed, returning her attention to me. “Anyone famous?”
“You probably wouldn't know him.”
“Carmen, would you leave her alone? This project isn't going to do itself,” Victor complained.
“You're such a drag,” she grumbled at him. “It's not like it's a difficult project.”
“His name is Dominick Parker,” I said, not really wanting to start the project either.
Carmen gasped. “The Dominick Parker? The guy who wrote Behind Her Green Eyes?”
I shrugged. “I honestly don't know what he's written. I haven't read any of his books.”
“Oh, girl, you should. They're so steamy. That man can write one sexy love story. He's hot too.”
I still wasn't sure if we were talking about the same person. Dominick was definitely attractive, and I did know he wrote romance. It just weirded me out to think someone who had never met him before might actually know who he was.
“Can we get to the project already?” Victor growled.
“Yeah. I think we should start working on it,” I agreed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“Can I meet him? I'd love to have his autograph,” Carmen continued, completely ignoring both of us.
“Sure. If you want to follow me out to the car after school, you can meet him. I'm still not sure we're talking about the same person though.”
“Cool,” she nearly squealed. “It has to be him. It just has to be.”
“Well, if it's not, don't say I didn't warn you.”
The entire conversation made me feel uneasy, and I was never happier than when we did finally move on to work on our group project. All the while, I caught Victor stealing glances at me, which made me blush. He was cute and mature looking. Maybe it was the glasses that made him seem sophisticated, or his good posture, or the clothes he was wearing. I couldn't tell, but he was definitely on a different level than the other boys around me.
After school, Carmen met me in the hall to walk me to Dominick's car. Victor had been on my mind all day, and I had a pretty good idea why. I had already found myself comparing him to Dominick, though I didn't know enough about him to come up with anything conclusive.
“You and Victor know each other?” I asked Carmen.
“Yeah. We went to high school together.”
“Oh. I thought so by the way you were acting during the group project.”
“I kind of have a crush on him, but don't tell him. I was really happy when we got paired together,” she told me with an ear to ear grin, and I felt my heart sink a little.
I had finally made a friend, and we both liked the same boy. What were the odds?
“That's such a hot car,” Carmen commented as we rounded the corner and the Maserati came into view. It was parked in the dead center of the pickup area, as if its placement was purposeful to make the other cars around it feel inferior. “I can only imagine a hot person driving it.”
“Usually, when I see cars like this, I think of old men driving them,” I said, sounding somewhat bitter.
I opened the door and ducked down since the top was up. Dominick was hiding behind his sunglasses as normal. He turned to us, looking impatient.
“Hey, Dom, this is my friend Carmen. She wanted to meet you.”
Carmen gasped. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. It is him,” she squealed and then proceeded to jump up and down like an idiot, drawing unnecessary attention to us.
I could hear Dominick let out a loud sigh before he said, “It's nice to meet you. Now get in the car.”
“Mister Parker, sir, can I have your autograph please? I love all your books. I've read them all. I think I'm your biggest fan, or at least one of your biggest fans.” Carmen ran around to the driver's side and waited patiently for Dominick to roll down his window. As he did, she fumbled through her backpack for something for him to sign.
The whole thing made me feel awkward. Was Dominick really such a big deal? It was hard to picture it. Then again, nothing had been as I had expected when I came here, at least as far as Dominick was concerned.
Carmen extracted a book and a pen from her backpack and handing it over. I couldn't help but grin at her body language. She was shifting her weight, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, wiggling a bit. She looked down on him as if he was her favorite movie star. She was attracted to him. That last thought made me want to scowl.
“Is there anything in particular you want me to write?” he asked her.
“Um.” Carmen thought for a moment. “Put 'with love' and then sign your name.”
“Alright.” He scribbled the message onto the inside of the cover and handed the book back to her.
She looked at it for a moment as if it wasn't real and then pressed the book to her chest. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This means so much to me. You have no idea. I'll keep it forever.”
“I'm glad I could make a fan happy.” Dominick turned to me. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” More than ready. The way Carmen was treating him was getting on my nerves. It wasn't like he was God. He was just Dominick.
“See you tomorrow, Kim.” Carmen waved at us as we pulled away, still clutching the book to her chest.
“How was your day?” Dominick asked me, completely ignoring the lunatic in the rear-view mirror.
“It was good. I made some friends finally.”
“Good. I'm glad.”
“Why did you sign the book 'with love'?” I asked abruptly. “I mean, you don't love her. You've never even met her. Why would you sign it like that?”
Dominick smirked. “Does that bother you?”
I felt my cheeks growing warm, though I wasn't sure why. “No. It just seems strange to me.”
“I did it because that's what she wanted. As an author, it's my duty to keep my fans happy.”
“Oh.”
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, and I was left thinking about how much had changed. It was strange knowing that Dominick was famous now. He had always been so sweet and down to earth and humble. Now he was stiff and professional and somewhat cold.
Carmen spent the entire next day during our group session gushing over Dominick. She talked about how handsome he was and how lucky I was to be able to live with such a creative genius. Then she asked if I'd read up on the stuff he was writing now. I told her I thought that was illegal. Besides, I had never been into steamy romance novels. They were just too unrealistic to me, not what love and sex were really about.
“That's why they're fantasy,” she said, shaking her head at me. “I'd love to be in one of that man's fantasies. He's got to be an ace in bed with the stuff he comes up with.”
“Can we not talk about this?” Victor asked.
“What do you mean?” My interest was piqued.
“The love scenes he writes.” Carmen pretended to fan herself off. “I bet that man can fuck twelve ways from Sunday. I'd love to find out. You think he was into me?”
Her question made jealousy rage through me. Dominick wasn't into anyone except for my sister, from what I could tell. Even that thought made me feel unpleasant. Why did I care anymore? He wasn't the man I had known before. He was completely different now.
“I think he's gay,” I said abruptly.
Victor laughed. “Aw Poor Carmen. It looks like I have a better shot with him than you do.”
“I wouldn't be surprised,” she grumbled. “From what I can recall, he's never been married.”