by S. J. Sylvis
“Who’s Mark?” I jump about three feet forward at the sound of Rowen’s voice behind me. That was too close, our bodies were entirely too close. I go to slap his chest playfully but then realize that would mean touching and according to my own agreement, we are not allowed to touch. I slowly bring my hand down and cross my arms.
“Mark and I… dated. I guess. A few months ago, and he can’t quite get the hint that I’m not interested anymore, or even was to begin with.” I chuckle and feel my face heating up. Why is telling Rowen about this making me feel so… small? It’s like I’m two feet tall with a lollipop hanging from my mouth.
His eyes darken when I meet them again. “Dated?”
“Yeah. I guess. We only went on a few dates. We had a French class together, but as soon as I told him I wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t leave me alone. It’s like he’s obsessed with me or something.” I remember Alicia coming at him with her straighter one night in the dorms… hilarious. As soon as I’m finished rambling, my face suddenly feels extremely hot and I stutter, “I don’t mean that he is obsessed with me or that any guy ever would be, but—”
“Why not? I bet every single guy you came into contact with at Duke is obsessed with you, or dreaming of you in some way.” His look is scorching and I seal my lips, unable to speak. Do friends compliment each other like this? I don’t think so.
Ignoring what he said, I continue, “Anyway, he won’t leave me alone. I don’t know what to do besides ignore him.”
“Why don’t you tell him you have a boyfriend? There’s nothing quite like that burn to put a stop to it all… ”
Before I have time to respond, Sash is telling us to get back to our seats. One more hour and we’re off, so I take the time to decide if that’s the right thing to do. Telling Mark I have a boyfriend would probably shut him up; he seems like a coward and probably wouldn’t want to put himself in danger of pissing off a boyfriend. Maybe I can even embellish my fake boyfriend: “huge arms, very protective, will kill on the spot… ” Bye-bye, Marky-Mark.
When my shift is over, I check my phone and have three more missed calls from him. It’s getting a bit out of hand, so I quickly decide to act on Rowen’s plan. Just as I’m typing rapidly on my phone, I hear my name from a faraway distance. I look over at Rowen and by the curious look on his face, he’s heard it too. I glance over to the pool area and the only person left is Sash. Everyone else has already dipped out.
“Did you hear someone say my name?” I yell over to Rowen and he nods his head. Then I hear it again, closer this time. My eyes go wide when I recognize the voice and see that stupid Camaro parked just ouside the gate. It’s Mark. How the hell did he know I was here?!
“Who is that?” Rowen asks, confused.
I look him right in the eye and say, “How’s acting like my boyfriend for a friendly little first hang-out sound?” And he smiles his devious smile right back at me and saunters his long stride toward me, allowing my stomach to deepen its pit.
“Just go along with this, okay?” he says as he wraps his large hand around mine, our fingers interlocked, and I can’t even think straight; it’s funny that after two years, our hands still fit together so perfectly.
“Who are you?” Mark says, as he glances down at our hands. He looks like such a preppy mama’s boy with his blue polo shirt and his neatly pressed khaki shorts paired with some Sperry’s. The longer I stare at him, the longer I wonder what the heck I was thinking when I allowed him to take me on a few dates. Anything to get Rowen off my mind.
“I’m Rowen. Sadie’s boyfriend. And you are?” Rowen croons this with a little grin to his face. I almost roll my eyes at his cockiness, but then I remember he’s basically saving me from a Chester-molester type of guy.
“Sadie’s… .” He looks so blindsided, like I haven’t been blowing him off for the entire last half of the school year! Get a hint, Mark!!
“Sadie… didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend. Is this true, Sadie?” he asks in my direction, and Rowen pulls me closer to his body. I oblige without any fight. Feeling his strong body on my soft one makes me feel like I’m at home.
“Yes. I thought you would have gotten the hint since I ended things with you over three months ago, and I’ve ignored just about every phone call or text.” I say as a matter-of-fact, hyper-aware of the nerves swirling inside my stomach.
“Oh… well.”
“Leave her alone, or you’ll be as black and blue as that stupid car you have.” Rowen demands and his voice is full of protectiveness. It feels nice for a moment, until I’m reminded that this is all pretend.
“I… okay,” Mark says and I can see him take in Rowen’s posture. Mark wouldn’t stand a chance against him. He walks away slowly and climbs into his black Camaro SS, with that lame blue pinstripe down the side.
When his tires screech as he leaves the parking lot, I jump out of Rowen’s hold and my nerves loosen a little. But not enough that I can meet his face.
“Thanks.” I look down at my feet, feeling so flustered.
“It’s funny, isn’t it… ” he intones, and I don’t answer. He walks over to me and reaches his hand under my chin and my breath catches at his touch. He tilts my head up and he peers down into my eyes, gracefully. “It’s funny how easily that role just came to us… isn’t it?” He tilts his head to the side, searching for any emotion that my face might give away. I’m stuck, at loss for words. I suddenly feel my throat close and I can feel the tears wanting to well up inside my eyes. He takes his hand away from my chin and walks leisurely out of the iron gates and to his truck, leaving me to stand there singing, “Friends, friends, friends”, inside my head, as if that’s really going to help.
Fifteen
Hannah Marie and Anna have taken over my closet searching for something to wear to Kyle’s fourth of July bash, the same one he had last year, except it’s actually on the Fourth this year. I only have a month left of this summer and I’ve put a stop to my thoughts of Rowen’s and my friendship. We haven’t talked since our “pretend” relationship the other day and I’m thankful for it. I have no idea what to say. I feel like I’m treading water in an undertow with nowhere to go. I’m just plain exhausted with our friendship, which is pulling on a lot more heartstrings than I want to admit. Where most college students are wishing their summer never ended, I’m wishing mine never started.
“How about this?” Hannah says as she pops out of my walk-in closet wearing one of my summer dresses. It’s pretty, and it brings out the blue in her eyes—only coming down to her mid-thigh thanks to the few inches she has on me.
“Yes! Wear that one, plus it’s blue, which is festive for the fourth.” I answer, wagging my eyebrows.
“Ooh, you’re right! Thanks.” I smile, and she throws some random clothes at me. “I found this while searching your clothes and you have to wear it.” I peel the clothes off myself and give a worried expression. I never thought to pair these two things together, but when I meet her stare I oblige and walk into my closet and get dressed. It’s a grey skirt that fits tight around my tiny hips and it hits just above my belly button. Then the shirt she threw at me confuses me. It’s just a tight t-shirt, and when I look down at my ensemble, I’m concerned. I look stupid. I walk out of the closet and Anna laughs at me.
“This looks ridiculous,” I say, taking in my outfit in the full-length mirror.
“Of course it does; you have to do this… ” She pads over to me, with her (my) blue dress swishing, and grabs the bottom hem of my shirt, tying it into a knot just below my bra. Then she grabs my messy ponytail and releases it, allowing my hair to fall down my back. She grabs some fancy hair product from her oversized floral bag and spritzes it into my roots so much that I choke on the fresh coconut smell.
After regaining some even breathing, I turn around in the mirror, prepared for humiliation. But she was right. It looks much better like this and I look semi-hot… something I don’t feel very often. The white shirt reflects back on the small tanned p
ortion of my stomach and my hair looks casually wavy, falling down around my shoulders.
“You know, you should be a stylist or something,” I say as I look over at her knowing grin. She’s good at this, seriously.
After Anna and I are ready, Hannah Marie takes her sweet time, applying makeup like fine art.
I can’t help but ask the gnawing question in the back of my mind, “Do y’all think Samantha will be there this year?” I know last year she was here visiting her grandmother, but I can’t ease away the sinking feeling that’ll she be here tonight. I haven’t thought a lot about Samantha over the last year, which I guess means I am, in fact, over the issues we had in our “friendship.” It’s easier to be a friend to Rowen, and I’m not sure why. Maybe because I once loved him. Not that I didn’t love Samantha, but a friend kind of love is much different than a soul-crushing first love with a boy. First loves are raw and unforgiving, just like the heartbreak that comes afterwards.
“No, she is in Peru or somewhere fancy like that. I saw it on social media.” Relief floods my body and I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Thank God.
When we pull up to the party, it’s the exact same as last year—cars ranging from Range Rovers to beat up Toyotas line the driveway and the impeccable green lawn. The house is bigger than most houses in our small town, and tons of people are casually strolling in and out of it. I’m ready for a good night tonight; I’m not the same Sadie I was last year when I was afraid of seeing everyone again. I’m friends with Rowen, Samantha and I have closed the chapter on our friendship (or “fakeship” as Hannah Marie likes to call it), and I’m free from annoying calls from Mark. I didn’t realize how bothersome they were, and I really didn’t realize just how obsessed he was with me until he showed up at my work, which was quite alarming if I truly think about it.
Hannah, Anna, and I take a three-person selfie so I can send it to Alicia, again. Just like last year. “It’s a tradition,” Anna says while snapping the picture. Then she types, “We miss you!” before firing it off to Alicia. They finally met Alicia during our second semester; we met up a few times through the school year… another thing that was different from last year.
“Sadie!” I hear Kyle yell my name and he all but tackles me into a hug. “I’m so glad you came. I have something rad to show you.” Kyle used to be my good friend, even before Rowen. We basically grew up together, going to grade school, middle, and then high school together. I’ve never seen him in a romantic way, but I wonder, if I hadn’t seen Rowen my junior year, if I would have fallen for Kyle. He’s cute enough; he has that boy-ish vibe to him, even now at age twenty.
“What do you have to show me?” I ask as he takes my hands and guides me through the house. I don’t see Rowen yet, and I have to put up a mental block so I don’t accidently hope he shows. Friends, we’re just friends.
When we reach the elegant wrought-iron bannister gracing the stairs to the next level, leading upstairs, I casually take my hand out of his and follow him up, watching his blonde hair bounce with every step. When we get to the top, there’s one long hallway of several rooms. I remember where his room is exactly. I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve only been up here because Kyle used to have his birthday parties here, and we’d all come upstairs playing hide-and-seek. I have never hooked up with Kyle and I won’t ever hook up with him; he’s too close to Rowen and it would be painful and awkward.
“Here, come look,” he says, nodding toward to his room. It’s much different in here than when we were kids. His red and blue walls are now painted a deep grey, and there’s no longer that pesky toy chest in the corner that I’d hidden in during an epic hide-and-seek game. There’s no longer clothes piling the floors; it’s tidy and precise, not much like the Kyle I know.
Over the music blaring downstairs, I say, “Redecorate?” and he grins.
“My mom did… you know how she is.” I laugh. His mom is the type of woman who likes to indulge herself with expensive things, especially her house décor. I get it; if I had all that money I’d want to spend it on nice things, too.
I sit on Kyle’s bed, crossing my legs since I have this skirt on that doesn’t do much to hide my legs or crotch, as he walks over to his closet. He pulls out a large piece of paper, like the size of a poster, and I eye him suspiciously until I see what he’s holding. I jump up in excitement. It’s an ACDC poster, the famous one with the words “Highway to Hell” plastered on the bottom below their bodies. The silver autographs shimmer in the one light beaming from up above.
“Oh my GOD! How did you get this?” I take it from his hands, carefully, running my fingers over the autographs.
“My dad scored it for me at some auction of his. He bid on it and didn’t really have anywhere for it, especially with my mom’s disapproval, so he gave it to me. I instantly thought of you.” I smile up at him and put my attention back on the poster. “I remember how you and Rowen always jammed to it back in the day.”
“We all did,” I say, my eyes glued to the autographs.
“I want you to have it.” My head snaps up so hard I’m half expecting it to just fall off my neck.
“What? No!”
“Yes!” He mocks my high-pitched voice.
“It’s too expensive. This is worth a lot of money, Kyle.” I don’t think I own something worth this much, maybe my car, but I don’t even own that. My parents do.
Kyle rolls his eyes, “My family has way too much money. Plus, I know you’ll never sell it.” I hug the poster to my chest because he’s right. I won’t sell this; I’ll cherish it forever.
“But what will your dad say if he knows it’s gone?” I’ve met Kyle’s dad before, and his mother. Heck, I’ve met his whole family and even though they come from A LOT of money, they’re all genuine and nice. He’s lucky because I’ve met some guys at college who come from money, and it seems like that’s all they’ve been taught to care about.
“Then I’ll tell him I gave it to the prettiest girl I know.” He says matter-of-factly and I blush when I grimace at him.
“What? Are you not used to people telling you you’re pretty? Because you are.” I shrug my shoulders.
“I’ve just been so guarded the last couple years that I haven’t really paid much attention to when someone says that. For the first year after everything, I hid because I was embarrassed at this… ” I point to my scar and his eyes follow the curve of it. They fill with pity and I’m quick to rebut. “Don’t feel bad. I’m good now; I don’t feel the need to hide it anymore.”
He smiles and says, “Good. Because your face is too pretty to hide.” He gently pushes my shoulder and we’re back to our playful relationship that we’ve had for years.
“Okay, enough compliments!” I put my hand up. “But thanks for this, it’s amazing.”
He smiles and he wraps his arm around my shoulders as we start to move down the long, hallway filled with bedrooms. “So, have any boyfriends back at Duke?” First he starts complimenting me, and now he’s asking if I’m taken… this seems very unlike Kyle.
“Well… ” I start by telling him the brief story of Mark and how Rowen had to act like my boyfriend at the club the other day to shoo him away, leaving out all the unnecessary feelings that were lingering in the air when Rowen and I touched, of course.
“So, what’s the deal with you two?”
Playing dumb, I answer, “What do you mean?” I have to almost yell this because we’re halfway down the stairs now and the music’s bass has picked up so much that my feet are shaking with each descending step.
“Is there something going on with you and Rowen?” He still has his arm around my shoulders, but it seems like no one has noticed as I scan the room below.
“We’re just friends.” My subconscious is “tsking” at me. As soon as the words pile out of my mouth and float into the atmosphere, I look up. My breath catches as I meet Rowen’s cold, hard stare. I almost want to brush Kyle’s arm off my shoulders out of instinct, bu
t I have to remember that I’m not taken and I haven’t been for two years, due to Rowen. He looks at Kyle and then back at me and I see his fist squeeze the life out of his beer can, causing some wandering eyes to question what just made him act so caveman-ish. It’s like everyone in the room knows there’s something else going on between us, even if I can’t admit it. It takes him less than ten seconds to drop the can on the floor and amble out the front door, slamming it closed.
Kyle’s arm slowly lifts off my shoulders. “Friends, my ass.” I peer up at him and he chuckles, shaking his head. He walks off to another group of friends and I’m left standing here, looking like I just got caught doing something wrong. But I haven’t.
Sixteen
Infuriated. I am so pissed off I can barely see straight. It’s such a foreign feeling, I don’t typically get angry. Once again, I think it’s a pretty useless emotion. But here I am, pissed as all get-out because Rowen just made me look like a complete freaking idiot! I quickly spill it all to Hannah Marie and Anna witnessing Rowen’s little fit. The more I ramble, the more pissed I get. The anger is bubbling and sizzling through my veins.
“I’ll be back,” I say through my fury.
I walk outside and put the poster in Hannah’s jeep first, then I search the large, perfectly trimmed yard for a sign of Rowen. I know he’s still here because I can see that stupid truck parked at the far end of the corner. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. Asshole!
As soon as I scan the yard for a second time, I see him slowly walking up the paved road. His hands are in his jean pockets and his hat is on backwards. Even from several yards away I can see how tight his shirt is on his biceps and for one, teeny, tiny second, it takes the anger away… but then it quickly comes back as I tread towards him.