Safe Distance

by Megan Green

  Still, I have to tease her a little. “Is that a gray hair, Sue? And, oh my god, I think I see a wrinkle!” I gasp in mock horror. She picks up the Post-its I threw at her earlier and flings them at my head.

  “You bitch. I should fire you for that.” She laughs, trying to hide the fact that she’s glancing at herself in the window behind me. I chuckle under my breath, get up, and step toward her.

  “Stop staring at yourself in the window. You know you look perfect. In fact, it’d be a huge favor to the rest of womankind if you would get a damn wrinkle or gray hair. Nobody should be as gorgeous as you. Share some of that with the rest of us, would ya?”

  She laughs at me again and rolls her eyes. But I can tell I’ve made her feel better. I’ve never noticed how insecure she is before. How can someone so beautiful be so insecure? I just assumed she always knew how amazing she was.

  She gives me a quick hug and whispers in my ear. “You’re plenty beautiful, Haylee. You have to know that. So promise me, get out there and have some fun. You’re not going to be twenty-three forever, ya know?” She gives my arm a firm squeeze and turns to walk out of the room.

  “Now get that ass to work before I tell your boss what a slacker you are,” she hollers back over her shoulder.

  I smile as she shuts my door. “Yes, ma’am!” I yell as I hear it click.

  I open my email and find my inbox is full. Great. Just like that, any good mood I’d been feeling is gone. Fuck Mondays.

  Three hours later I barely register the knock at my door. I’m concentrating deeply on one of our possible new clients’ accounts. It’s for an up-and-coming small press publisher. When the file came across my desk, it was the first time I’d actually been excited to start putting together a presentation. I want this account. They’ve only got a few small previously indie authors, but there’s a ton of talent there. I just know with the right marketing, we could make them huge.

  I’m so engrossed in the details I’m reading that I don’t acknowledge the knock until I hear it again. And this time it’s a lot more forceful. I grudgingly put down the papers in my hands and shout, “Come in.”

  Brody, the arrogant ass who works just down the hall from me, peeks his head through my door.

  “Hey, Haylee. I just got word that Sue wants us both to work this publishing contract together. Thought maybe we could grab some lunch and go over any ideas you may have. She says you’re the expert on this and advised me to kinda follow your lead.” He smiles at me, flashing a full set of the most perfectly straight teeth I’ve ever seen.

  I silently vow to kill Sue the next time I see her. The first account I’m actually excited about, and I get saddled with this guy. I know exactly why she wants me working with Brody. I’m not blind. He’s gorgeous. But he’s also the absolute epitome of everything I would never want in a guy. But, despite the fact that he’s a complete tool, Brody is one of the best in the office. If I have to work with someone on this, he’s probably the best option to land this deal. Deciding lunch wouldn’t be so bad, I smile at him.

  “Oh. She was here this morning and didn’t say anything to me. I thought I was doing this one alone. But yeah, sure. Lunch would be great. And it’ll take some stress off my shoulders to have another pair of eyes looking over all this. Let me grab my jacket.” I turn toward my coat rack to grab my coat, and Brody is right there.

  “Allow me,” he says, pulling it from my hands and holding it out for me. I stop myself from rolling my eyes and turn around. Apparently Brody thinks that just because we haven’t talked much, I somehow don’t know about his notorious reputation around the office. His “chivalry” is not going to impress me. I’m not an idiot. Not anymore.

  “Thanks,” I say, tying the strap around my waist. “Let’s go.”

  We head just down the street to a little coffee shop. We both order coffees and sandwiches, and after a very awkward attempt on his part to buy my lunch, which I of course decline, we sit down at a corner table. I reach into my bag to grab my notebook so I can take notes on what we discuss.

  “So, how do you think we should approach this one? I was thinking just simple designs. Really play up the authors they’ve already signed. I’ve read a few of them. They’ve got a ton of potential in the right hands. Maybe try to get some bigger names to do some blurbs. They don’t really need anything flashy. We just need to get their names out there, and I think the rest will take care of itself.”

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever you think.” He looks around the coffee shop, not really seeming too interested in what I’m saying. “I mean, Sue said you’re the expert. I told her I think this is a big waste of time and money. Nobody reads anymore. We should be focusing on landing some more sporting goods contracts and maybe a soft drink. That’s where all the money is. But Sue insisted this would be good for the company. So I’m just here to make sure the new girl doesn’t screw up.” He laughs as he says this last part, like I should find what he just said hilarious.

  I don’t. The last thing this world needs is another sporting goods store or caffeinated beverage to get addicted to. What he just said is a prime example of why we need more publishing houses and books out there. The world is getting stupid.

  I’m about to tell him just what he can do with his sporting goods when he leans in closer to me. “How come we haven’t gone out yet, Haylee? You’ve been with the company for almost a year now, and I feel like I barely know you. We should fix that. Wanna grab dinner this weekend?” He puts his hand on my knee, gently rubbing it back and forth.

  I put my hands against the table, preparing to push against it and stand up, when I hear the bell on the door chime. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of blond hair and a profile I never thought I’d see again. And just like that, I’m frozen. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t do anything but stare in his direction.

  “Hey. Mind if I sit here?” I look up at the boy as he puts his books down on the table next to me. I’m momentarily stunned. School has been in session for a few months and nobody has ever tried to sit there. I always have the table to myself.

  He smiles at me as he pulls the chair out. I’ve seen him a few times this year. He transferred here about a month ago. Campbell, I think his name is. But he’s not in this class. What is he doing here?

  I decide not to respond, just scoot my book and notepad a little to the left to give him more room. I immediately look back down to my notes. We have a test this period. I need to ace it. My GPA needs to stay perfect. It’s my senior year and I’ve worked my ass off to keep my grades stellar. My scholarship depends on it. And I need that scholarship. I need to get out of this place.

  The bell rings, and a bunch of students file through the door, not wanting to be marked late. Doesn’t matter though. Mr. Quintana is late. The other students seem to notice this all at the same time and the chatter starts up again.

  “So, is this class as tough as people say it is?” Campbell is looking at me when he asks this. I look around, expecting to find someone standing near me whom he’s actually speaking to. But no. Nobody is there. He smiles at me again, obviously amused at my confusion.

  “Yes, I’m talking to you. I heard this class is pretty hard. That Quintana actually expects you to speak Spanish the whole time. No English allowed.”

  I clear my throat. “Umm, yes. Yeah, that’s true. He only lets you speak Spanish in class. He thinks it’s the best way to learn the language. So you better learn how to ask to use the restroom quick. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until after class. He won’t let you go if you ask in English. Here. Let me write it down for you.” I pull a sheet of paper from my notebook.

  “Puedo ir al bano? Got that one actually. I took Spanish at my last school. My teacher there was the same way. Mr. Q is right. You learn a lot more that way. That’s actually why I decided to change to this class. Knew it’d be a lot easier to get an A here than it would be to get one in freaking pottery. That shit is impossible.”

  He laughs at his la
st remark. I want to laugh too. I took that class last semester and hated it. I had to write a few papers on famous artists to make up for my less-than-stellar pottery projects. I may be smart, but I am definitely not artistic. I don’t dare laugh at his comment. I’m not sure how to take this guy. He seems nice. But I know he’s made friends with the popular kids. For all I know, he may be talking to me as some sort of joke he was put up to. So instead, I just nod at him and turn back to my notes.

  He sighs. “Not a big talker, eh? Well, since this was the only empty seat, you’re stuck with me for the rest of the semester. Can I at least know your name?”

  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Why does he want to know my name? Nobody cares who I am. I’ve gone to school with some of his friends my whole life and I can count on one hand the number of times they’ve talked to me. What’s his angle?

  He seems genuine enough. Even if he’s not, what harm can it do for him to know my name? I turn toward him. Just as I do, Mr. Quintana walks into the room. I shut my notebook and lean down to put it in my backpack.

  “Haylee. My name is Haylee.”

  He smiles that ridiculous smile at me again. Seriously. Whose teeth are that perfect? I decide to hate him all over again when he extends his hand.

  “Hi, Haylee. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Campbell.”

  I look down at his hand and back up to his face. Is he really offering to shake my hand? Who does that? I look down, tentatively reaching out to take his hand. His large fingers close around mine and gently squeeze. He holds on for several seconds, so I look back up to his face. His gaze is locked on my face. When I meet his eyes, he squeezes my hand a little harder. I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I want to pull away, but his stare has me transfixed. I can’t seem to look away.

  Suddenly there’s a bang from the front of the room. I jump, pulling my hand from his and facing forward. Mr. Quintana is standing there, the book he must have been holding now dropped to his desk. “Okay, guys, I know I was a few minutes late, but that doesn’t mean class is canceled. Close your books. It’s test time.” He rubs his hands together like a villain and gives an evil laugh. Shit. I didn’t go over that last page of notes again. How could I let myself get distracted? I put all thoughts of my new neighbor out of my head as Mr. Q puts the test down on my desk.

  “Haylee. Haylee. HAYLEE!” I blink out of my memory, seeing Brody leaning across the table, shaking my shoulder, a look of concern on his face. I glance toward the door again, looking for him. But he’s nowhere to be seen. Was he really here? Or was it just someone who resembled him? I put my face in my hands and rub my forehead. It’s been a while since this happened. Since I saw someone who reminded me of him and sent me deep into my memories. Memories I wish I could forget. I thought I was past all this. Guess not.

  I look back at Brody. “Uh, sorry. I, umm, thought I saw someone I used to, uh, know. Guess I got a little distracted, trying to see if it was him. It wasn’t though.” I smile, trying to gain my composure.

  “You looked fucking terrified. I thought you were having some sort of seizure or something. You wouldn’t look away from the door. Wouldn’t respond to anything I said. Freaked me out,” he says, looking at me dubiously.

  “Sorry. I was just focused. I get like that sometimes when I’m thinking. Just totally space out.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. He’s not buying it.

  “Yeah, sure. Look, let’s get back to the office. I just remembered I have a meeting in about ten minutes that I can’t miss. It’s for another new client. Actually, I’m pretty sure Sue forgot she assigned me to that one too. I don’t know if I’ll be able to take on the publishing house on top of it. Might be stretching myself too thin. You need someone who can give it their full attention.” He stands, not meeting my eyes.

  I know there’s no meeting. And no other client he suddenly remembered. He thinks I’m a lunatic. Or at least slightly unhinged. Can’t say I blame him. I am. And this means I can go back to working this project by myself.

  I get up from my seat and drop a few dollars on the table for the barista. I take a step toward Brody and he immediately takes a step back. I hide my smile. Wow. My face must have really freaked him out. At least I don’t have to worry about him asking me out anymore. I step past him. Over my shoulder I say, “I’ll see you around the office, Brody,” and head toward the door. I hear him mumble something in response. I’m sure it was less than flattering, so I choose to keep walking, leaving him standing by the table.

  It’s not until I step out onto the street that I wonder if maybe he is out there waiting for me. Maybe he saw me sitting there and ducked out, instead choosing to wait for me to leave. Waiting to ambush me with questions and painful memories. My heart starts to race as I consider the idea. I keep my eyes trained to the sidewalk, hurrying my steps toward the office.

  “Excuse me,” I hear a man say behind me. I don’t even turn to look. I just take off running as fast as I can.

  I can barely see through the sheets of rain currently streaming down my windshield. My wipers are at full speed, but that still isn’t fast enough to keep up with the torrential downpour. I slow my car down even more. At this rate, it’s going to take me all night to get to Ryan’s.

  When he texted earlier, asking me to come play cards with him, Chris, and Emma tonight at his place, that familiar uneasiness immediately began to sink in. My first thought was to make an excuse. We’ve met up a few times over the last few weeks: lunch, drinks, he even made the excursion with me to the bookstore once—something I’m sure he regrets now, realizing just how long I can spend in a place when I’m surrounded by books. He always makes me laugh, and I find myself enjoying his company more and more. But we’ve always met on neutral territory. I’m not sure how to feel about going to his house. It feels more…intimate.

  So I sat there, staring at my phone, trying to come up with a plausible excuse he would actually buy. After ten minutes of drawing a blank, I tossed my phone on the couch next to me and rubbed my hands down my face.

  “Just go,” I chided myself. “He knows where you stand. You’ve made that perfectly clear. And you need to make more friends. ‘That would be a huge leap forward in your recovery, Haylee,’” I said, mimicking my old therapist.

  With my mind made up, I quickly texted Ryan back, telling him I’d be there within the hour, and headed to my room to change.

  Now, not even halfway there and caught in the middle of Hurricane Crazy, I’m kicking myself. This is what I get for trying to be normal. I’ll probably get washed away in a flash flood. They’ll find my body twenty miles downstream, probably being picked at by crows. I laugh at the grim thought. So much for tonight being a leap forward. Ha.

  After another ten minutes, the rain seems to be coming down even harder. Deciding I can’t go any further, I pull over and dial Ryan.

  He answers on the first ring. “Hey. Where are you? It’s freaking pouring out there.”

  “Tell me about it,” I scoff.

  “You almost here?”

  “I have no idea. I’m pulled over in the gutter on some damn street I don’t even know. I can’t see through the windshield. Figured this would be safer.”

  “Well, you can’t stay there. This is supposed to go on all night. Tell me what’s around you.”

  “Why? You gonna come save me again? You take this knight-in-shining-armor shit seriously, don’t ya?

  “Shut up, Haylee. Tell me where you are.”

  I sigh. “I told you. I don’t know. I think I see a gas station a little ways up the road. Can’t tell what it is though.”

  “Well, why don’t you drive down there and tell me? Slowly, of course.”

  “I’ve already started the car. Jeez. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Didn’t say you were. Jeez yourself.”

  I roll my eyes. I know he’s just kidding. But I hate being in strange places by myself. I can feel the anxiety building in my chest. I should have never left the house tonight.
<
br />   As if sensing my uneasiness, Ryan breaks off my thoughts. “Go slow, Haylee. Keep to the shoulder. You can just coast to the gas station. Deep breaths.”

  It’s only then I realize how labored my breathing has become. A crash of thunder sounds around me and I yelp.

  He gives a soft laugh. “You’re okay. How much farther? Talk to me.”

  I clear my throat. Realizing he probably thinks I’m ridiculous for being afraid of a thunderstorm, I try to speak in a steady voice. “I’m pulling in now. It’s a Chevron. And there’s a Burger King inside.”

  “Okay. I know where you are. You’re not far actually. Go in and get yourself a cup of coffee. Just stay in there. I’ll be there in ten.”

  Now that I’m surrounded by light, my breathing slows and my head clears. I can’t believe I was on the verge of a panic attack over a storm.

  “That’s silly, Ryan. I pulled over because it was dangerous. It’s coming down so hard you can’t see to drive. There’s no reason for you to endanger yourself to come get me. I’ll be fine here until it passes.”

  “I’m not leaving you at a gas station all night. And believe me, I’ve driven through worse. Now go inside. I’m already on my way.”

  He must’ve opened his door, because I can hear the sound of rain coming through the phone now. Realizing I’m not going to be able to talk him out if it, I relent.

  “Fine. I’ll see you in a few. Drive slow!” I demand. I’d never forgive myself if he was injured trying to come get me.