Protecting Emma

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Protecting Emma Page 16

by ML Michaels


  She had worked so hard to get where she was and to wind up paired with some idiot on a hockey scholarship was an insult. Paula shook her curly hair down from her shoulders, hoping to make a curtain of it so that Kris wouldn’t see her face and how pissed she was.

  He must have sensed it, though. At the end of the class, as Paula was packing up her things, he leaned in toward her and nudged her shoulder.

  “Relax, Meg,” he said. “I’ll be good.”

  Paula shot him a stern look. She doubted he would know what good was if it hit him in the face. Still, he looked genuine. And gorgeous. Her heart did a flip at having those big brown eyes focused solely on her, and she shot up off of her stool at lightening speed.

  “See you tomorrow,” he called after her.

  She didn’t even look back.

  Paula was usually quite fond of her dorm in the late evening hours. Well, her dorm room anyway. Her floor was usually full of revelers and drunks, but at least Steph didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. That left Paula the room to herself, which was the kind of luxury she couldn’t pass up on.

  One night in particular, as the noise outside swelled, Paula was feeling particularly cozy in her bed. She had her laptop open in front of her, and she was firmly burrowed into the two fluffy pillows behind her. Steph hadn’t been home all afternoon, and that had put Paula in an extraordinarily good mood.

  But, as they say, nothing gold can stay.

  Steph and Kris burst into the room with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. They had their faces mashed together, and Kris’ hands were cupping Steph’s butt. They clearly hadn’t seen that Paula was there.

  Paula coughed to get their attention.

  “Oh, hey Sleepless,” he said, before resuming his assault of his girlfriend’s mouth.

  Paula was horrified, but she hated confrontation. What was she supposed to do? Tap them on the shoulder and ask them to keep their naughty bits covered by a blanket at all times? She decided to pack up and ship out to the library.

  The pair fell onto the bed, which made a loud cracking noise, just as Paula fumbled around on the floor for her shoes. She stood and grabbed her bag, stuffing her laptop and books in there, then went to her drawer and grabbed a hoodie. The kissing noises were awful, and she couldn’t believe that they were just going to sit there and do that with her in the room. Rude.

  As she opened the door, the noises abruptly stopped.

  “Meg,” said, Kris, breathlessly. “Party at my dorm tonight, you in?”

  Paula turned around and gave him a quizzical look, which more or less mirrored Steph’s. Both girls were wondering if Kris was joking or not. Paula couldn’t see any other reason why he would invite her to a party. After all, they didn’t talk, besides the occasional hi and bye in their lab. She was pretty sure that he still didn’t know her name.

  “Uh, no thanks,” she said. She wanted to ask him bitterly why he was in her dorm and not his, but she simply followed that up with, “Have fun.”

  Storming down the hallway, dodging drunk students, Paula felt frustrated. She didn’t like having to leave her dorm room. She didn’t like that her roommate was so inconsiderate. Most of all, she didn’t like that Kris was giving her attention. Whether he meant it innocently, or whether his intentions were cruel, it only meant one thing—trouble.

  Bonfire night was Paula’s new favorite night. Tucked back in her bed, as she had been a few days before when her studying had been rudely interrupted, she heard only the distant sound of drums and the calming ocean noises playing on her laptop.

  Steph, like most of the other students on campus, had committed to spending the night outside, dancing around a huge bonfire roasting an effigy of the opposing school’s mascot. It was a morbid event, but it was hugely popular—and Paula was fond of anything that was popular enough to rid her of her roommate. Not to mention the rest of the dorm.

  Paula ended up being so productive during this time that she was able to switch to a little downtime. She browsed Netflix leisurely, stopping once she’d reached The Mindy Project. Though she only identified with Mindy Kaling’s character based on her career as a doctor—Paula’s future career—she almost felt like she was seeing the other side of the veil when she watched her show. The more fun side of the veil.

  Halfway through the episode, the door to her dorm flung open. Speaking of the more fun side of the veil.

  “Oh, Paula,” said Kris. “I’m sorry. I heard a high-pitched voice and assumed Steph was in here.”

  Paula shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since this afternoon,” she said. “She’s at the bonfire.” She was touched that he did actually know her name. She paused her show and sat up a little in bed. “Do you need something?”

  Kris ran his fingers through his hair, scrunching up his mouth adorably. “Can I come in?” he asked.

  Paula nodded, closing her laptop and sliding it down to the side. Kris walked in and closed the door behind him. He sat on Steph’s bed and leaned against the wall.

  “I need some advice,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure you’re the smartest person I know.”

  Paula scoffed, but the compliment hit her hard all the same. “Shoot.”

  His eyes locked on hers. “Steph’s been driving me nuts. I feel like I should end it, but I’m not sure if that’s going to cause more drama than just sticking it out until we drift apart.”

  Paula softened a little. “That’s a pretty grim way of looking at it,” she said.

  He laughed. “You’re right,” he said. “Still, you spend lots of time with her. I was hoping you’d be able to weigh in on the situation.”

  Paula wasn’t sure whether she should mention that the only time Steph spoke to her or about her was to attempt to knock her down in some way. They weren’t friends, and she wasn’t sure if she’d even consider them acquaintances. They were just people who shared a space and apparently hated each other.

  Still, something about the way Kris was looking at her, and speaking to her, made her feel like her opinion actually mattered for once. It was the first time in a long time that anybody apart from a professor had asked her what she thought.

  “You’re not going to get a glowing recommendation of Steph from me,” Paula replied. “But I feel like you knew that, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked.”

  He smiled wryly at her. “See, smartest person I know.”

  Paula blushed and broke eye contact, looking out the window at the glowing sky in the horizon.

  “What are you up to?” Kris asked.

  Paula shrugged. “Watching Netflix. My kind of party.”

  For a moment, Kris almost looked shy as he decided what to say next. “I’m not really feeling like a bonfire tonight,” he said. “Can I stay and party with you for a bit? Might be nice to just shut my brain off.”

  Paula was shocked. Kris Graham wanted to stay and hang out with her, instead of going to a massive, campus-wide party. She looked at him with wide eyes.

  “Sure,” she managed to say. “Uh. Come on over.”

  She shifted to the side of her bed. Thankfully, the dorm beds weren’t so small that they couldn’t fit two people comfortably. Their sides still touched when he crawled beside her, but since he was on top of the blankets and she was beneath it was less intimate.

  Paula had never been that close to a guy before. She’d made out with a couple over the years, but never once had she gotten into bed and felt their heat beside her. Her face grew hot, and she was eager to distract him so he wouldn’t have cause to look up and notice. She pulled her laptop open, balanced it on their legs, and pressed play.

  “It’s The Mindy Project,” she said. “Is that okay?”

  He nodded. “I love this show.”

  As he settled into the pillows, Kris let out a great, world-weary sigh. Paula felt like she could feel the air change as he relaxed and let go of the stress of the day. She wondered just how much stress he could possibly be under, co
nsidering all he seemed to do was play hockey and party.

  She was overly conscious of the fact that he smelled amazing, like boy and spice and heaven, and that she could feel him move with each breath he took. She felt tingly where their bodies touched, even through so many layers. For the first time in her life, Paula Huntington was having troubles concentrating.

  He was so different from the Kris she was used to. It was as if his very countenance changed. He was saying nothing, but his actions spoke for him. Quiet, peaceful, different. Most of all, for once Kris seemed relaxed. She hadn’t noticed before how much tension he seemed to physically carry, but it all washed away the moment he sunk into bed beside her. Just like that, Kris was free.

  Or at least that’s what it felt like to Paula.

  Paula tried not to let her mind wander to such places. Instead she allowed herself to be drawn in by the show, and tried to forget the fine specimen next to her. They were from different worlds. They were no Mindy Lahiri and Danny Castellano. They didn't share a practice. They didn't even share an interest.

  As the night wore on, Paula began to feel sleepy. Her eyes had trouble focusing on the screen, and it took everything in her to resist turning to the side and cuddling up against Kris so she'd have a place to rest her head.

  Kris sensed that she was tired. "I guess it's time for me to go," he said, patting her in a friendly way on the knee. The gesture sent electricity through Paula, immediately zapping her awake.

  "Uh, yeah," she said. "I guess it's getting pretty late."

  She watched as Kris extracted himself from the bed. He zipped up his hoodie, preparing for the elements outside.

  "You're a lot different when you're not around Steph," Paula observed.

  Kris' face warmed into a gentle smile. "Esse est percipi," he said nonchalantly, opening the door and stepping back into the hall.

  Paula had to actually look up what he said. For once she actually didn't know the answer. It was a quote in Latin by Bishop George Berkeley.

  "To be is to be perceived," she repeated quietly to herself. "Interesting."

  Paula hadn't slept well. This time, however, it hadn't had anything to do with the partiers outside her dorm. While they hadn’t helped, and while it frustrated her that Steph came in at five a.m. and turned the light on while she loudly talked on the phone to her friend, the worst part had been the thinking.

  Paula was a thinker, but she wasn't usually an over thinker. That night was an exception. She couldn't stop thinking about Kris, about what he had meant. She couldn't stop wondering if maybe there was more to him than she had originally thought.

  She couldn't stop hoping that he thought there was more to her than she’d originally thought he had.

  That last thought was the most troublesome. Once she opened her mind to that possibility, a stream of fantastical notions flooded in. Was Kris fond of her? He must have been, considering that he chose to hang out with her for a few hours yesterday. But what if he just wanted to sit and relax, and he hadn't cared who it was with?

  It was all too much.

  Then there was the realization that came along with her re-evaluating her assumptions about Kris. A new awareness that she kind of liked him. Just a little. Not enough to do anything stupid but enough that her mind then turned to thoughts of the sight of him naked.

  Those thoughts spiraled in a way she had never before experienced.

  By the time the morning came, Paula felt like she'd gone mad. Sleep deprivation was the primary culprit, though unresolved questions played their part too.

  She was excited for class, anyway. More excited than she would normally be.

  She trudged out of bed—excitement did not negate her tiredness—and took a long and leisurely shower. Once she was all dressed and ready, something that took a little bit longer than usual, Paula headed to class.

  When Kris walked into their lab, Paula wondered if she'd dreamt their whole encounter last night. His whole persona had shifted right back into place, and that cocky grin was once again etched all over his face. There wasn't a trace of hesitation or confusion about him nor were there any of the signs that he was relaxed. He might as well have been a different person.

  "What's up Megs," he said, as he plopped down next to her.

  Before she could answer, one of his hockey buddies came over. "Yo, man," the guy, a tall blonde, said. "I didn't see you last night. Where were you?"

  Kris stole a glance to the side to see if Paula would betray him, and then said, "Dude, way too many beers. Wound up at the Taco Bell on the other side of town. Went home and slept after that."

  The guy laughed and high-fived Kris, clearly thinking that was the best party story ever.

  Paula turned to Kris after he had left. "Why did you lie?" she asked in a hushed voice.

  He looked around to make sure nobody heard. "Because I don't want everyone to think I'm totally lame," he hissed back.

  Paula scowled at him. "Ouch."

  He shook his head but didn't respond. He turned to his phone, which had been blowing up in his pocket, and started texting away. Paula assumed it was to his girlfriend.

  "Mister Graham," the professor said. "You might not have noticed, but class is now in session."

  Paula turned pink. She hated having attention drawn to her. And drawing attention to her lab partner, who was sitting next to her, was a bad as calling out her name as well.

  Kris, on the other hand, just shrugged. "Whatever, man."

  The professor was not pleased. Most of the other people in the class snickered. Paula just turned a deeper shade of crimson.

  "This is not high school, Kris," the professor chided. "I can't send you to the principal for being disrespectful. But I can tell you to get the hell out of my class."

  Kris didn't even hesitate. He stood up, grabbed his bag, and left the room swiftly. The professor, who had likely expected an apology instead of Kris just outright leaving, looked shocked.

  Paula was mortified. And, worst of all, now she had to do their experiment alone.

  One of the few places around campus that it was quiet around 9 p.m. was the small cafeteria in Paula's residence. Since it was at the back of the building, and you couldn't go sit down unless you'd bought something, it wasn't the most popular place for pre-drinking and socialization.

  That meant it was perfect for Paula.

  The cafeteria didn’t close for another hour, but its staff had already disappeared somewhere out back. Paula was well and truly alone. She smiled as she bit into her sandwich. Hardly the dinner of champions, but it was certainly hitting the spot.

  She heard footsteps behind her. Who the hell would be coming into the cafeteria at that hour? Besides her, of course. Then Kris sat down beside her, and her chewing abruptly stopped.

  She looked at him with fire in her eyes. "I had to do the experiment alone," she said lowly after swallowing.

  Kris looked ashamed. He winced at her words. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to mess you up like that."

  Paula slammed the sandwich down onto her cardboard plate. "Then why'd you leave?" she stormed.

  It was the first time she'd ever acted like that around Kris. It was probably the first time anyone at school had seen her lose her temper. She had never lashed out at anyone at school before because it had never seemed worth it. Now, with her feelings all mish-mashed up in what Kris did or didn't do, it was suddenly worth it.

  "I don't do well with confrontation," he said.

  Paula snorted. "Does anyone? Answer the damn question."

  Kris sighed. "I got flustered because I was an asshole," he said. "I felt bad, and I didn't know what to do. So I saw an opportunity to flake out, and I took it."

  Paula was touched but irritated. "You decided to counter being an asshole by being even more of an asshole?" she asked flatly.

  His eyes were gentle. They were the eyes of the Kris she had spent a few quiet hours with in her room, the one whose body heat had mingled with hers between layers
of blankets. She looked away.

  "What I'm trying to say, Sally, is that I'm sorry."

  "Sally?"

  "Like from When Harry Met Sally," he explained, a small smile on his face.

  Paula couldn't help but feel a little smile creep up on hers too. "I don't look that much like Meg Ryan," she said.

  He nodded enthusiastically, eyes bright and playful. "Oh, you do. It's the hair, the big eyes, the full lips."

  Paula blushed again and looked back down at her sandwich. “What’s brought you over to the lame side of the tracks?” she asked, trying to change the topic.

  Kris said, "Steph and I broke up."

  Paula’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Her heart also started pounding erratically, and foolishly, in her chest. "Really?" she said. "I'm sorry."

  She wasn't really sorry. But that was the kind of thing you were supposed to say in those situations, right?

  Kris saw right through it, grinning at her. "You're not sorry at all." When she opened her mouth to defend herself, he added, "Which is fine ‘cause I'm not sorry either. It was about time I let her loose."

  So he had dumped her. Interesting.

  Since they were clearly having some sort of bonding moment, Paula felt brave. "Why do you act like an idiot when you're clearly not?"

  The question seemed to physically hit Kris. He reeled back a little. "You say that ‘cause I laid one philosophy quote on you?"

  Paula shook her head. "I say that because I've spent some time with you."

  He looked down at his hands, for the first time seeming nervous. "My dad has a lot of expectations for me, you know?" he said. "Being good at school is not one of them. I'm supposed to be the best at hockey, maybe, but he also wants me to get in with the right crowds, date the hottest girls, and just in general live the life that he missed out on."

  "Missed out on?"

  He looked back up at her. "Dad used to play hockey, too. Took an injury back at the end of high school but played through it because he wanted to make varsity. Ended up not making it more than a season before he had to throw in the towel."

 

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