Anyone but Him

by Cassie Graham

  It wasn’t until a director saw my role on Holli’s show, and he hired me to play opposite Wayland Blunt. Playing his brother in Until She Says No, earned me another coveted Oscar nomination.

  As I watch the playback from the scene I just shot, Ted quickly directs people to set up for the close-up scenes.

  Thankfully for me, I know the lines like the back of my hand, and let Whitley, once again, drift into the forefront of my mind. Two weeks later, and I still can’t seem to shake her metallic gray eyes.

  Her somehow very sheltered demeanor screamed something that I can’t quite put my finger on. She seems like a caged animal. Always living in her little world, never really having much fun.

  The moment her eyes caught mine in that putrid cab, I knew I needed to find a way to show her a good time.

  It’s been months since I’ve had any real fun.

  Too bad I’m a chicken shit.

  I have many opportunities to contact her. I know where she lives, I know Holli, and I might have found out where she goes to lunch on school days.

  But, I haven’t done anything. I’m a pussy—or worse, a pussy is strong for all intents and purposes. Now balls…those suckers are weak. So, I’m balls.

  I fully admit it.

  I can’t get her out of my head, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want her to leave. Let’s be honest. Who would want a girl who looks like her to leave your memories? You’d be an idiot to willingly banish memories of her away.

  If I ask her out, and she says no, it’ll make my crush that much worse.

  You always want what you can’t have.

  Since it’s been so long since I’ve seen her, maybe she isn’t as beautiful as I think she is. Maybe the fumes from the cabbie’s underarms gave me hallucinations. Maybe she’s hideous, with buck teeth and a receding hair line.

  Then I think, nope.

  Fuck it.

  Even picturing her with those very obvious flaws, she’s still magnificent.

  Even I don’t have that good of an imagination.

  I’ve never seen anyone like her.

  She’s exotic looking—but not. Girl next door meets some foreign country. Switzerland or Poland, possibly.

  With her almost white, blonde hair, fair skin and gray eyes, I can’t place an origin for her roots.

  I’m fascinated.

  I’m intrigued.

  I’m—fucked.

  I film the rest of my close-ups and go straight home.

  Driving my Audi TTS down the PCH, I shift gears and let my thoughts breeze down the freeway.

  I don’t live far from Whitley. Two miles, tops. I could easily walk down the beach to her front door.

  I wouldn’t. I like her, but I can’t stalk her.

  I exit off of the freeway, and head to my house.

  When I enter the gated community, I put my code in and the gates open. I can see the top of my house a half-mile down the road.

  Pushing the button to my garage, I pull in and park.

  When I open the door, my beagle Lucy bounds into my arms.

  Picking her up, I snuggle her soft white and brown fur and coo to her in the least manly like way.

  “Hi Lucy-Loo. I missed you girl. Did Henrietta feed you?”

  Lucy licks my face, and I smile knowing that my housekeeper wouldn’t leave without feeding her. The dog gets fed better than I do.

  I think Lucy might love Retta more than she loves me.

  Setting Lucy carefully down on the stone floor, I wipe her kiss away and move to the couch. The entire back of my home faces the ocean. Top to ceiling windows make my house seem endless.

  Letting my body fall into the plush dark blue couch, I move for the remote. Turning on the TV, my finger stops on a celebrity talk show.

  I don’t really watch TV much; it’s mostly on for background noise. In this big ass house, it can feel empty, so the TV helps quiet the silence.

  My iPad sits on the coffee table, so I pick it up to read this week’s dialogue for the movie.

  Ted likes to keep us in the dark, for the most part. We read the script as we shoot it. Almost like a sitcom. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, so I’m eager to see where the movie will go. We only have a week left of shooting, then who knows what my character will do next.

  I’m still contemplating going to school. I need to fill my time somehow. I’m a little late to the game. I’m twenty-five, but I’ve always wanted to get some sort of degree. I know I want to stick with English, but Literature, or Creative Writing? I don’t know.

  Plus, I know I want to take some time off before I start filming the Samuel Masterson movie in January of next year. I have enough money to live comfortably for five lifetimes, so money isn’t a problem.

  Online would be the only way I could get a degree. I can’t go to campus as me. I tried that. It didn’t work.

  Then, I have an idea. It’s insane and I know it isn’t the smartest option, but I know it’s the right one.

  The old me would never do this.

  Jennings couldn’t ever talk my old self into going to a big college.

  That’s it. I’ve made up my mind.

  I’m going to do it.

  I type the words into the search engine on my iPad and find the number.

  Picking up my phone, I push the screen and wait.

  “Hello. Thank you for calling the Camford-Hale’s admissions office.”

  “BABY, PLEASE. JUST FOR A FEW DAYS.”

  I roll off of the bed, taking the white sheet with me. Lark and I may have been dating for a couple months now, but I’m nowhere near letting him see me naked in the daylight.

  Wrapping the sheet under my arms, I drag my fingers through my long hair.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, but you can’t.”

  Throwing a tantrum like a little boy, Lark throws his face into the pillow and pounds his hands on the bed.

  Did I willingly just have sex with this man?

  Jesus, maybe I do need higher standards like Holli said, and should move on.

  This isn’t an attractive look on him.

  Toddler.

  Yuck.

  “Whitty, please. I just want to stay at your place for a few days until Oliver gets his shit together.”

  Oliver is Lark’s cousin from back home. They had been close as kids, but lost touch when Oliver moved out of town. He’s two years older than Lark, I don’t understand why he can’t get a place right away on his own, but whatever. It’s really not my problem.

  I huff at his annoying tone and stomp to the bathroom.

  I can act like a child, too.

  Lark’s frat house is huge. Twelve guys live here. Ages range from eighteen to almost thirty.

  Thank God, Lark has his own level of the house.

  Being the president does have some perks.

  Lark’s house is unlike any of the other fraternities on campus. They take all kinds of pledges. It doesn’t matter if you’re the star of a sports team, or the president of the AV club. If you can get through Rush week and prove that you’re a cool guy, you’re in.

  This philosophy is the main reason why the fraternity is so popular on campus. There’s no judgment, just acceptance.

  That doesn’t mean there aren’t judgmental assholes in the house once Rush week is over. Get guys in a room together, they’ll all show their dicks and compare size.

  I don’t understand their species at all.

  But, the biggest asshole?

  You guessed it. He’s sitting in bed throwing a fit.

  I really should listen to my inner voice and tell him to take a hike.

  Then, I figure, I only have a week left of school, so I should just stick it out until summer and see if he dumps me first.

  I’ve never been good at dumping men. I’d much rather get dumped with a clean conscience and go on with my life. I don’t like conflict, so it’s just easier to ruin the relationship and have him tell me, “nice knowing you, sucker,” and let him feel like he’s a badass
for wrecking a chick’s heart.

  I’ve never actually been wrecked, but you know what I mean.

  Putting on my college t-shirt and jean shorts, I comb my hands through my hair, bring the beachy waves out and fluff it a bit.

  Taking my toothbrush out of the holder, I squirt toothpaste on the tip and bring it under the water faucet. Once I’ve brushed a few seconds, I walk back to Lark’s room. He’s still in the same position I left him in. Face smothered in the pillow, pouting.

  I smile to myself. He is kind of cute—I guess.

  Sitting next to him on the bed, I lightly scratch his bare, tan back.

  He moans.

  “Okay, listen. You can stay on Friday,” I mumble around the toothpaste and my toothbrush.

  He lifts his face from the pillow with an I-totally-won smirk.

  I roll my eyes and push at his shoulder.

  “But, you have to go home on Saturday. Blaine has a big night planned for Holli, and I promised to give them space.”

  He wraps his arms around me and nudges at my side. “Okay. I can live with that. You want to come back here? You can meet Oliver. I’m sure there will be a party Saturday.”

  There always is.

  I have nothing else going on. Studying for finals is the only thing I have on my agenda this week, so I guess it’s the best option I have.

  I put up my finger and rush to the bathroom to spit and gargle mouthwash.

  Once my teeth are clean, I return to Lark’s bed, and lean down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  “That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to get to the library and study.”

  Tickling his nose to my cheek, he rubs my butt and nods his head. “Have a good day, babe.”

  Ooo, that sounds way too domestic for my taste. I hide my flinch and make my way out of the house.

  A couple of penises, a bare chest, and a guy in tidy whities later; I exit the house and walk to one of the campus’s libraries.

  It’s bright red brick structure looks ancient as I walk up the concrete sidewalk. Believe it or not, as visually stunning as Xander Library is on the outside, the inside is so much more picturesque. With insanely high vaulted ceilings, ornate and intricate woodwork, it looks like something out of a high priced film.

  Finding myself on the checkered floor in the middle of the library, I look for an open table and set my laptop and backpack down. Opening my fifty plus notes, I get to work.

  It’s mid-morning, and finals week, so students one by one trickle in to study.

  After five hours, my eyes have officially shut down, and it’s possible that my brain shut down long before now. I figure it’s time to call it a day.

  I have two more finals left to take before I can finally call myself a graduate. I bypassed going to my graduation for my bachelor’s degree and went straight into the master’s program, so this feeling is such a huge accomplishment, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself after it’s all said and done.

  I’ve applied to every possible high school position in the greater Los Angeles area, and nothing. You’d think California would be scrounging for teachers, but I guess not.

  Thank God, I saved up most of my money from working odd jobs over the years. I can live easily for the next year, if I need to.

  I really don’t want to. But, I will if need be.

  I’ve always worked. Since the day I was old enough, I did. At the age of fifteen, I got a job as a cashier in a bookstore, and haven’t stopped since.

  This is the first year in my life that I took time off to just be a student.

  I was having a difficult time balancing both work and school, and ended up quitting my job at the public library. You wouldn’t think librarians did too much work, but it isn’t an easy job. Constant inventory, and re-shelving took up most of my time. It wasn’t the laid back job I was hoping for when I applied.

  I had no time for studying.

  So, I did the easy thing.

  I quit.

  Seems to be the recurring theme in my life as of late.

  It’s almost five, so I pack up my things and head to my car.

  As summer approaches, the California sun beats brighter by the day, and today is no exception.

  I parked my car in Lark’s house parking, so I’m sweating fairly disgustingly by the time I reach good ol’ Sue.

  Sue is my 2011 Honda Civic. Black and sleek, I take serious pride in her. She was the first thing that I was able to buy on my own. I cherish this car. She’s my baby, and I give her the best care possible.

  Minus clothes and shoes, Sue is the only thing I really spend my money on. That’s probably why I have a decent size savings account.

  When Holli and I bought our house in Malibu, she outright paid for it. Her contract paid for our house and a house for her parents, so I buy and cook dinners, clean and keep the house alive while Holli is away filming. It’s the least I can do.

  We used both of our credit scores when we sought a house, and Holli thought it was her “duty” to buy the house because she made enough money. I had no choice in the matter.

  When Holli has something set in her mind, there’s no talking her out of it. I begged and pleaded, smuggled, and hid money for rent, and without a doubt, the next day the money would be back in my account. After six months of reluctance, I agreed and gave in. Holli was just being Holli. She’s nurturing, and wants to provide. It’s her way of helping.

  I can’t complain. There’s no reason.

  I’m thankful.

  I also feel sheltered. Sometimes—even a little smothered? I know that doesn’t sound right, since Holli has such a kind heart, and only wants to make me happy, but I think she thinks she needs to save me from myself.

  In her eyes, I’m a bit lost.

  And, shit, maybe I am.

  Hell, I don’t know.

  I don’t like to think about it too much.

  Do I feel lost?

  I mean—a little. I don’t really feel like I have a place. Anywhere. I feel like a drifter. You know, not in the literal sense, of course. I don’t move from town to town, or state to state, but I can’t seem to make a decision to save my life. The only thing that has stuck is my passion for teaching. It’s the one thing I can depend on. It’s a constant that I don’t plan on changing anytime soon.

  I can’t keep a boyfriend. After a couple months, I get cold feet and find a way to fuck it up so he’ll break up with me.

  My hair is something I can’t keep from changing. I always get the itch for change. I never leave a stone unturned.

  Same goes for jobs.

  I do a quick calculation in my head.

  Yeah, I’ve had ten odd jobs since I started college.

  Is that normal?

  Thank God I have at least one thing in my life figured out. Teaching.

  I know I need to be an adult and stick to one thing or person, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Maybe I am a gypsy at heart.

  The thirty-minute drive flies when I let my thoughts wander.

  When I pull up to the house and open the garage, Holli still isn’t home, so I park and go inside.

  The security system beeps at me to disarm it, and I rush to the kitchen putting our code in before it goes off.

  Setting my purse on the kitchen counter, I move to the cabinet and retrieve a glass. Turning the faucet on, I let the cold water fill up. Taking long slow gulps helps quiet my racing thoughts, and I sigh.

  Holli should be home in the next hour, so I scour the kitchen for ingredients to make dinner.

  While the chicken bakes in the oven, I move to my room on the second floor.

  Holli basically has the entire first floor to herself. The master suite sits down there, so I try to give her as much space as possible. The second story has my room with an attached bathroom, a TV room, and a library.

  I mean, is there really anything else a person would need?

  Opening the heavy
door to my room, I move to the window and open the white shutters. The sun is about to set, so I sit back on my bed, and wait for the sun to move past the horizon.

  Once it’s gone and the night takes over, I move to my dresser to take my jewelry off and get into comfortable clothes.

  Jennings’ note catches my eye and I pick it up and read the words that put a little confidence back into my self-esteem.

  I’ve had a hard time getting him out of my thoughts since he bombarded my cab three weeks ago.

  I don’t know how he always makes his way into my mind, but I can’t get him to stop popping up.

  I might be secretly hoping he contacts me, but I’d never openly admit that to anyone.

  “What’s this?” Holli asks from behind me, snatching the note out of my hand, scaring the crap out of me.

  Damn light footed mouse.

  Seriously, she needs to wear heels in the house so I can hear her move around.

  I twirl around, and fight her for the note but she’s stealthy and maneuvers around me.

  I tackle her to the bed, attempting to get it back into my possession. She wiggles and moves around the bed, making it difficult to catch her. I put up a good fight, but the woman has the grip of an anaconda and won’t budge.

  I sit up and she follows suit.

  “It’s a note,” I say, stating the obvious.

  She raises her eyebrows and opens the note, reading the kind words Jennings wrote.

  “Who’s this from, Whit?” she asks, her eyes looking a little cloudy.

  I play with the string on my night shorts, not answering.

  She’s going to flip her shit when she finds out Jennings wrote it and I didn’t tell her. I wanted to keep it a secret for a while.

  As odd as it is, I feel like his kindness was something I needed to store away and keep from the world. It’s mine. I got to see into this confusing man. I got to see him.

  Was it the real him? I have no idea, but it was a side that the rest of the world didn’t see all the time—if ever.

  I’m selfish. I wanted this one thing to be mine. No one else’s.

  Holli moves toward me, touching my shoulder. “Whit, who wrote this letter? It’s really sweet.”

  I set my elbows on my thighs and put my head in my hands.