The drive to the library isn’t long, because it’s just a few miles past campus from where I park, but it helps me to unwind. I rarely use the library on campus as it is always packed with students, and while it’s fairly quiet, there is still a lot more activity than at the public library. Besides, I adore the librarian, Mrs. Arnold. I pull up at the library and park my bike, putting down the kickstand and pulling my backpack from the saddlebags. I whistle as I walk and open the one of the double doors, smiling as I walk in and see the librarian, Mrs. Arnold. She’s a sweet older lady and always giggles at me, even blushing at times.
“Hey, Mrs. Arnold,” I call out. “You’re looking lovely today. I think you’re getting younger every day.” I watch as she blushes and drops her eyes to the ground as she smiles.
“Oh you,” she scoffs. “You’re such a shameless flirt.” I give her a wink and head over to the section of the library that I know stays quiet. I place my bag in the chair and start pulling out my books, putting them all on the table in front of me, intent on getting a lot of work and studying done tonight. I’m getting ready to sit and dig in when something catches my eye, or should I say someone.
She’s absolutely beautiful with her long blonde hair and blue eyes, not to mention her knockout body from what I can see. She’s a tiny little thing, but she packs a big punch in the curve department. She’s clean, but dressed in ratty old clothing and seems a little skittish, acting like an animal that’s being cornered, her eyes darting all over the room. I watch as she says hello to the librarian and heads over to the fiction section. There’s something sexy and sensual about her as she trails her fingers along the spines of the books. She must feel me watching her, because her head shoots up suddenly. I bend my head down to pretend that I’m reading, so she doesn’t know it’s me watching her. I don’t know why I want to stay incognito, but I sense that it’s more about her than me. I feel this pull to her, like there is something about her that I need, that I want. Why her? My cock swells in my pants as she sways down the aisle and I shrug it off, putting it down as sexual attraction.
For some reason I want to keep my eye on her and see where she goes from here. Her skittish behavior is making me wonder if she is being hurt or mistreated in some way. I know she’s a total stranger, but the more I see her eyes dart around and her constant glancing over her shoulders leads me to believe that I might be right and someone’s hurting her. I loathe men who prey on women. It just pisses me off. She looks like she’s getting ready to leave with her hands full of books.
I never check out books, because there is nothing in a public library that I need any more as a senior in business school, but for this special project in my Promotions class it was strongly recommended we think outside the box with our research. I think the selections I’ve pulled while watching the girl are going to be a great addition to the information I’ve already collected at the campus library, but I need to hurry if I want to be able to follow the cute little blonde. I head to the front counter and lean against it, drawing Mrs. Arnold’s attention. I need to really pull out the charm and convince her, so I give her my trademark half smile half smirk and watch the blush transform the color of her cheeks.
“Hey, Mrs. Arnold. I need to sign out some books for my class, but something suddenly came up and I don’t have time to renew my library card. Will you give me a pass this time? You know I’ll be back.” I see her face softening, but she’s shaking her head no so I keep going.
“You know how responsible I am,” I tell her. “Please, could you make an exception and allow me to take out these books? I promise to return them within the week.” I throw in a little wink and her blush deepens, her smile turning into a giggle as she tries to cover it behind her hand.
“Oh, you rascal,” she says with a smile. “It’s only because you keep me company so often. I’ll allow it just this once and you need to return them next week.” I’ll agree to just about anything at this point if it will hurry her along. I watch as she slowly notes each book in her ledger, her tongue licking back and forth on her bottom lip as she concentrates.
“Thank you, Mrs. Arnold. You’re a peach.” I tap the counter with my finger as I give her a big smile.
“You take care now,” she says with a small wave. I let out a whoosh of air that I wasn’t aware I was holding and throw all my books in my backpack, trying to hurry so I can catch the little gem outside.
I get to my bike just in time to see her at the bus stop. Her long, blond hair is blowing around her heart shaped face and I have to smile as I see her tilt her face up at the sun and spread her arms wide, as if embracing the sunshine. I watch as something slips out of her hand and she quickly bends over to grab it, her jeans pulling tight over her ass. I groan and adjust myself as I watch her pert little ass sway in her jeans as she steps on the bus, nervously looking over her shoulder. I throw my leg over the bike while starting it, kicking the stand up quickly, and pulling safely into traffic. I keep my eyes on the bus as I think what might be scaring her. She seems so paranoid. I don’t know what it is about this girl that’s got me bent out of shape and following her around like some stalker.
It’s starting to get dark out. The sky looks cool, swirled with a purple and pink. I don’t have to follow her long when the bus stops. I pull over to the side of the road, keeping a distance, and watch as she gets off the bus. She walks a block up the street, inserting a key into the side door at the local diner, The Dinner Roll. Why is she going into a diner that is closed for the day? I stand around for about an hour until I see the one light that was on go off. Does she live there? At the diner? A weird guilt washes over me, a feeling of wanting to watch over her, take care of her, and make sure she is okay.
Someone I don’t even know has me wanting to protect her? That makes no fucking sense…
Chapter Nine
Cherry
I had finally fallen asleep around two in the morning, after having tossed and turned for hours. The minute the lights went out, all those memories came crashing back in like a giant wave you know is coming but you’ll never get enough breath to endure. Like every previous night before, I end up crying in big, loud, gusty sobs, ripping through my chest and tearing my heart in two. I lost my daddy, the big house with the pool, and even Grams. The worst losses, though, were the ones from the people that are still living.
Take Mama for instance. She is still alive, but I may as well be dead to her with the way she treated me, as if I am just an afterthought. I never thought I’d lose my friends, but they are gone too. I was still the same girl that invited them to pool parties, who took dance and cheer squad with them, but suddenly it was as if I were a leper and people didn’t want to be near me. I distinctly remember an incident at school when a group of the popular girls, including Missy, my former best friend, were giggling and pointing at me. I knew they frequently made fun of me because I didn’t wear the latest fashions or my hair wasn’t colored or styled, but I was always clean. I often hid behind my hair, letting it form a curtain in front of my face. I didn’t want people to see me, and I didn’t want to see anyone either. I felt awkward in groups, and crowds often frightened me.
Grams always understood me. I know she saw the changes occurring in me, and the sadness that consumed me most days. When Grams died, it felt like life was teaching me another lesson. You might lose one thing, but you gain another. I was devastated at the loss, but her dying allowed me to use her bedroom and I remember being so thankful for the privacy. The room wasn’t much, but it was mine, my safe haven, or it had been until Mama remarried.
Mama didn’t date the guy long, but she said that at her age she couldn’t afford to be picky. She seemed somewhat happier than before, so I tried not to say much. I didn’t like Mike, my new stepdad. He did things to me that your stepdad isn’t supposed to do. He touched me whenever he got the chance and he often beat me for minor infractions. I remember the time I had forgotten to put the roll of paper towels under the sink and immediately the blows sta
rted raining down on my back. Mama didn’t even step in to stop him. She just shook her head at me and told me I best do my chores as expected and these sorts of things wouldn’t happen.
I sigh as the memory washes over me. My whole body feels heavy and my feet sluggish as I head to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I lean on the sink and go over myself with a critical eye. I have a crease across my face from my pillow and dark circles under my eyes. I’m very pale, my eyes large on my face. Everything is catching up with me and taking its toll on me. I have no way of hiding it or covering it up, because I don’t own makeup and I don’t make enough money to spend on something like that; unnecessary things. People are just going to have to put up with my unattractive features. If they don’t like it, then they can look away. Maybe if I take that job with Roger then I’ll be able to afford those sorts of things. I sigh and wash my face thoroughly before brushing my teeth. I complete my ensemble by pulling my hair into a high ponytail and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, tying on my apron for the finishing touch and I’m ready to go. I’m excited about today, eager to get my shift over with.
Roger was kind enough to get me a one-year pass to a local gym and tonight I am going to a Zumba class. I’ve heard so much about them and I’ve always liked music and dancing. I personally think it’s his way of buttering me up, a sort of pressure to take the job he’s dangling in front of my face. Whatever the reason, I’m excited to be able to try something new, something just for me. I leave my back room and head into the diner with a smile on my face for the first time today, and ready to get started.
***
I’ve literally been run off my feet today. I didn’t have time for memories or bad thoughts, just lots of hungry people. The day is over and it seems like it’s just begun. I shout out my goodbyes to Mr. Roland and to the short order cook as I grab my backpack and bolt out the door. I don’t have to wait long for the bus as I stand and enjoy the late afternoon sun on my face. I wish I could get out more. Once I’m on the bus, I’m able to keep my mind from wandering because I’m too busy anticipating a fun class.
I hop off the bus as it pulls in front of the gym. I stand anxiously looking at it, and then square my shoulders, ready to walk in. I’m a bit nervous about the unknown and I don’t know what to expect since I’ve never been to a gym before. I walk in and stop right inside the front entrance to look around, my eyes scanning all the machinery and the noise. I notice that all the women are wearing cute outfits with matching runners. Even their damn shoelaces match, and here I am in my ratty sweats and a t-shirt that has seen better days, but there isn’t anything I can do about it and I’ve been made fun of for far less.
“Hi, I’m Marcy. Is this your first Zumba class?” I turn my head to see a pretty brunette with a wide smile looking at me quizzically.
“Hi, Marcy. I’m Cherry, and yes, this is my first class.” I know she’s assuming it’s my first Zumba class, but little does she know it’s my first class of any kind.
“You’re going to love it,” she says with a big infectious grin. “You can stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes. It’s never fun being the newbie.” I smile and nod while following her into class.
To my surprise none of the women in the class are saying or doing anything cruel; in fact, several of the women have smiled, said hello, and given me their names just like Marcy did. I have to remember I’m out of high school and I’ve left my bullies behind, every last one of them. People grow up, although some later than others while some never do.
The instructor walks into class getting our attention by clapping her hands. “Ok class,” she shouts out. “Let’s get this started. At the front of the room here there are two ladies joining me. Jenny will show you the low impact version that you can follow if you’re feeling out of breath or if you’re a beginner and getting used to the steps. Sam will give you an intermediate option and I’ll do the full-blown, high impact steps.” She smiles and points at Jenny and Sam as she guides us through the introduction. I look at her animated face as she continues. “The music is salsa based and the important thing to remember is that we are here to have fun. Just follow along the best you can. Alright then, let’s get started!” Just like that we’re off to a fast start and her enthusiasm is infectious.
I’m out of breath with a fine sheen of perspiration covering my body and we’re barely fifteen minutes into the class. It’s fast paced, the music is hot, and I’m having such a good time. I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled or laughed this much. I don’t have time in my life to worry about pleasing others. Those days are over. I will never again be somebody’s sucker.
Our instructor Nicki, smoothly transitions us from our fast paced warm-up into the cardio portion of the class. All of the moves are designed to keep you moving and to keep your heart rate elevated. Sweat is flowing freely down my face and I can feel my t-shirt clinging to my damp skin as I pant through the class. We’re now working on our core muscles and I’m surprised to learn that I’m quite a good dancer as I’m picking up the moves with ease.
I’m smiling widely and I feel like there isn’t anything that will take it from me. “That’s a wrap! Great job everybody. Let’s slow it down.” I can’t believe it’s already over. That was so much fun. We’re into the last five minutes of the class, each of us breathing quickly as we go through the cool down.
Class is over and I’m left doubled over, sucking air in through labored lungs, yet I’ve never felt better. I grab my towel and my bottle of water as I suck at it thirstily.
I think I’ll have a shower here tonight since it’s included in the membership. It’ll be better than getting on the bus sweaty, and in close proximity to other people. I gather all of my things and bring them into the shower stall with me, placing them on the tiny bench provided. I hang my towel on the hook and place my shampoo and conditioner on the floor within easy reach. The water temperature warms up quickly. I moan in pleasure as the water pours over my head. Because of Roger’s kindness I’ll be able to shower at the gym whenever I want to.
It feels like things are finally looking up for me. I know how quickly things can change, so I will not get too cocky in my happiness, because every time I have in the past it’s all been ripped from me, leaving me devastated and lonelier than I was in the first place. I sigh and shake my head at myself, hurrying myself along.
I’m enjoying every minute, but I don’t take too long as I still have a bus to catch. I want to get home and read for a bit before bed. I finish in the shower and wrap the towel around my body, walking toward the counter when I spot one of the blow driers. I wonder how nice it would feel to get the dampness out of my hair for once with warm air. I usually wear it in a braid or a high ponytail to keep it off of my face, but maybe I could wear it down tonight. It may sound silly to someone else, but I’ve never had the luxury of using a blow drier, let alone owning one of my own. I walk over to it and with shaking hands pick it up before flicking on the switch. Immediately the drier warms up, so I flip my head upside down like I see the other women doing, and wave it back and forth, blowing my damp strands in different directions. The heat feels amazing against my scalp. My hair softens as it becomes dry.
I stand upright, flipping my hair back over, and a part of me wants to cry at how pretty and shiny my hair looks as it falls in a long and smooth wave. Usually, because of the humidity and not having the use of a drier, my hair dries in various directions, becoming frizzy and flat, especially the tiny hairs that frame my face. I’ve never seen my hair look so voluminous and clean, bouncing with the slightest movement. I feel like a girl, a pretty girl. I have to mentally tell myself to pick my chin up off the floor and close my damn mouth. I look at the clock on the wall, suddenly realizing that I’ve taken up too much time drying my hair, and now I’m now in a hurry.
I discard the towel quickly and pull on clean underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt, before I grab my bag out of my locker and run to catch the bus. I smile at the feel of my lightwe
ight hair swaying behind me as it shimmers and shines in the fading sunlight. I blow out a breath as I pull myself up into the bus and throw myself into the first available seat I see.
There is a group of guys around my age on the bus, laughing and teasing one another. Every last one of them is really good looking and I smile as I watch them goof around. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to date like a normal girl. Just because I don’t have the time or the inclination for a relationship right now, doesn’t mean that I’m blind. I can enjoy eye candy just like the next person. Besides, I can feel safe while just looking in a public place. Every guy seems nice until they get behind closed doors. That’s when you see someone’s true colors. I would rather not risk it at all than to end up in the same situation again. I sigh and shake the thought off as I choose instead to think about how fun the Zumba class was.
The bus ride passes fairly quickly and I’m glad for it, because I want to read a bit before bed. I’m mentally deep into a really good book called Twisting Fate by Charisse Spiers. It’s the second in a series and I’m hooked, as in can’t get enough. I mentally shout in excitement when we arrive at my stop and I grab my bag before stepping off the bus. It’s a very short walk to the diner and I slide my key into the lock, eager to get to my book, and oblivious to my surroundings.
I quickly get all my things ready for tomorrow, and then pull on a pair of pajamas and hurry to wash up and brush my teeth. I’m eager to begin reading where I left off. I climb into bed and pull the blankets tight around my body as I open my book, happily anticipating the story. It isn’t long before I’m sucked in deep to the fictional world that lies within the pages, because the author is so vivid with her descriptions. I read till ten and can’t hold my eyes open any longer. I need to get some sleep. I’m exhausted from last night and I’m hoping that I can get some rest tonight with no bad memories or nightmares waking me. I yawn widely, hearing and feeling my jaw crack as I snuggle into my pillow, and it’s the last thing I remember before falling asleep with the book open on my chest.
Accepting Cherry Page 7