by Magan Vernon
“You know, there is this thing called women’s rights. I know it’s not a part of your conservative agenda, but we do have them,” I snapped.
“I do believe in women’s rights, Monica. I believe that everyone has a right to their opinion. This country was founded on great ideas and people fighting for their rights from a big, looming government.”
I snorted. “That sounds like such a canned answer that the Republican party wrote up for you.”
“And did your liberal party write up one for you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. His eyebrows were beyond perfect. He had to have gotten them professionally waxed, along with his meticulously cut fingernails. He probably visited a salon more often than I did.
“Just because I believe in women’s rights and didn’t vote for your dad, doesn’t automatically make me some bleeding-heart liberal.”
“I’m sorry for assuming that. If you aren’t liberal, then by all means we can discuss government spending and tax cuts over pizza,” he said, not taking his eyes off me, the smile still perfectly painted on his face.
I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. His answers really were all canned. “I’m totally not a conservative.”
“I guessed that from the moment I met you. Probably the red hair and eyebrow ring, not the snarky anti-conservative comments.” He laughed, softly.
I ran a finger over my eyebrow ring and then slid my hand through my hair, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I thought he was a young, political version of Adonis, but maybe he just saw me as a charity case. “It’s auburn,” I muttered.
“I’m sorry for questioning your hair color and piercing choice. It suits you. No matter if it does make you look like a liberal.” His smile went from political to a true grin.
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and hid my face with a menu just as the waitress brought our drinks and placed them on the table.
“Have you all decided on what you are having?” she said in an overly perky voice that wasn’t there when I first came in.
Trey looked up at her, leaning one arm on the booth. “I’ll have the Italian salad with the dressing on the side, and whatever Monica here wants, she can have.”
I put my hand to my chest in mock sarcasm, lowering the menu. “Oh, gee, really? You’re too kind.” I then rolled my eyes and looked to the waitress. “I’ll have the Fettuccini Alfredo.”
“Okay, I’ll put it right in,” the waitress said, taking our menus and walking away.
“Alfredo? You know that stuff sticks with you forever.”
I narrowed my eyes at Trey. “Are you seriously still here? And now judging me for my eating choices?”
“No judgment here. Just telling you what I know.”
“You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” I huffed.
“I’m sorry for being offensive. I didn’t mean to be. I’m just looking out for your well-being.” He held his hands out, staring at me so intently that I thought he was scrutinizing my makeup.
“Well, you don’t need to look out for me. I’m not some sort of damsel in distress.”
He let out a deep breath. It wasn’t as much of a sigh as a pause. “Look, Monica, I’m sorry for offending you. I guess I’m just not used to hanging around such gorgeous girls with a mind of their own, and it’s really intimidating.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “So, I’m sorry if I’m being too forward, but I just wanted to get to know you, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it.”
The heat crept up to my cheeks, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Normal guys usually didn’t just pour themselves out to me, especially not a guy that was the son of a governor. I expected him to try and steer me in the direction of the local Republican Party.
“Okay, you can stay, but you’re not allowed to talk about politics or judge me for what I eat. Is that a deal?” I raised an eyebrow.
He put his hand out. “It’s a deal.”
I took his hand and then he gave me a signature, firm hand shake like any politician would. I didn’t know if he planned on following in his dad’s footsteps as a political leader, but he definitely acted like it with all his political talk.
When our handshake stopped his fingers still lingered on mine for a few seconds. His hands were smooth, yet still rough, as if he took care of them with lotion or manicures, but they were definitely still manly.
He finally let go of my hand and folded his on the table. “So now that I’ve made an ass out of myself, can you at least save me here and tell me something about yourself?”
I laughed, taking a drink of my water. “There really isn’t much to tell.”
“Everybody has something to tell. Everyone has a story. I want to know yours.”
That was something I wasn’t about to tell him. I did have a story. I did have a past, but that was just something he would have to get out of a private investigator because there was no way I was going to give him that.
“Um, well, I’m a sophomore, Political Science and Women’s Studies major.”
He raised his eyebrows high on his head. “Political Science and Women’s Studies? So you really are a bleeding-heart liberal.”
I rolled my eyes, setting my glass down. Just when I was starting to like him he had to make a comment like that. “I just want to be educated before I have to defend myself in front of smug politicians.”
“As you can see, I’m not a politician, yet. I’m just another Political Science major here at Central, but if you want to discuss politics and upcoming elections I’d be more than happy to.” His political smile returned, and I wanted to smack it off his face.
“Okay, since you’re going to bring up politics, let’s talk about your father’s political decisions. How can Governor Chapman proceed with the contraception bill when every member of the Illinois Senate opposed it?” I crossed my arms over my chest. I’d done enough research into my candidates to know where they stood on the issues.
Trey leaned back, the vinyl seat squeaking underneath him. “That’s a pretty bold accusation, Miss Remy. As you obviously know, my father won the campaign while moving forward with that bill. I’m sure a Women’s Studies major can appreciate what he is trying to do by keeping the government out of things like contraception.”
Obviously Trey wasn’t a run-of-the-mill guy to argue politics with. He didn’t just get his information from what he found on Fox News. He actually knew what he was talking about. I guess he would, being the governor’s son. He wasn’t just the kid that took what he could from his dad, he actually listened. I used to try and talk politics with some of my friends, and the only thing they would know was what they read on the headlines. It was refreshing to talk to someone that knew their politics, yet infuriating at the same time.
“Yes, I can understand the separation, but how can the governor just lump all women into one box?”
“I’m not following you, Miss Remy.”
I let out a deep breath and the words came out so fast I couldn’t take them back. “Okay, like with the contraception bill he made it so that no one could get emergency contraception. I mean they could, but they had to either go through insurance, which doesn’t always cover it, or pay some ridiculous amount.”
He nodded his head as if he was listening intently. “I didn’t think our conversation was going to veer toward contraception, especially since we just met, but I guess it is a hot-button issue right now.”
“You’re deflecting.”
He held up his hands and then set them back down, slowly. “I apologize.” He took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat. “Emergency contraception is a slippery slope. People want the separation of church and state, but when it comes to any form of birth control, people then want the government to intervene and help them out to prevent contraception.”
“If insurance companies cover Viagra then why not birth control?” I raised an eyebrow.
A laugh escaped his full lips. “That’s the argument that keeps coming back to bite us in the butt, doesn’t it
? But if the government can intervene on birth control then men are going to come forward saying that their rights are being infringed on for their medical conditions.”
I scoffed. “A guy not getting up is not a medical condition.”
“But that’s what it’s covered under, isn’t it? Same way that any female can get her birth control covered. If she needs it for a medical reason, which usually emergency contraception is not.”
I wanted to scream, “But what about rape victims? What about the girls that have nowhere else to go?” But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so instead I just ran my fingers over the napkin on my lap.
Trey opened his mouth to say something, but before he could the waitress was back, placing our dishes in front of us. My fettuccini was in a dish the size of a serving tray, the steam rising from it and covering my face in a fine mist.
“Enjoy,” the waitress said before turning and walking to another table. “I also can’t say I’m used to a girl who actually orders real food at a restaurant,” he added, picking up his fork and stabbing a piece of lettuce, dipping it in his side of dressing.
“I’m not most girls.”
“You’re right about that one.” And that quickly shut down our argument.
***
“How can Governor Chapman blame the economic downfall on the president when it’s our state that has one of the worst employment rates and the highest sales tax?” I may have said no political talk, but the longer I sat across from the governor’s son, the more it just kept coming up. I actually started to feel comfortable talking to him.
He licked a bit of dressing off of his lips, and I tried not to stare. Sure he was gorgeous and I wondered what it would be like to have his tongue running across my lips instead of his, but I had to keep my head in the game. I was sure most girls didn’t have to worry about debating with the governor’s son and keep their libido in check at the same time. “That’s a pretty bold accusation. I’d like to see what evidence you have to back up that our local government hasn’t tried to pass bills to stimulate our state’s economy, but had them turned down by the president’s liberal agenda.”
“Yes, but you can’t blame the president for vetoing certain bills. Especially when he’s dealing with a Republican-controlled house that is just going to go against anything he proposes,” I said, putting down my fork so I’d have something to do with my hands.
Trey shook his head, slowly. “I’m not used to discussing politics with anyone but my dad, especially not a liberal female who knows more than the average person on the street.”
“I do what I can to help out the ninety-eight percent.”
After another round of political debates and fighting with Trey on letting me pay my own bill, we stood outside of Mario’s. The contraception subject wasn’t brought up again, though. There is only so much a girl can talk to a guy about emergency contraception, and I think he had his fill. It was one topic that I was also afraid to bring up too much and have him ask what my interest was in it. I could only hide behind my political arguments for so long before it got personal.
The sun was lower in the sky, casting an orange glow over the small downtown area near campus. It would have been nice to walk around and see the little shops that lined the street, but I didn’t want Trey to think it was some sort of a date that would require window shopping, hand holding, and ice cream.
“Well thanks for sitting with me, even though you were uninvited,” I said, dragging one foot on the sidewalk.
“I still plan on walking you home. If you don’t have some sort of feminist gripe about that.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess it’s fine since we’re going to the same place.”
He nodded, and we walked alongside each other down the sidewalk. He had his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, and I walked with both hands on my to-go container. I planned on eating a quick dinner and then going to the grocery store, but at least I’d have leftovers for the next day and could just go out after work in the morning.
“Will you let me join you for dinner again?” Trey asked.
I stared at the ground, watching my feet instead of him. “Do you really think I’m your type? Wouldn’t you be better off with some over-stimulated member of the GOP”
He laughed, softly. His laughter was low and deep and had a playful edge to it, like his voice. There was something about the slight teasing tone to it that made me listen to him. “Then I wouldn’t have anything to talk to her about. She would just agree with everything I said. I like talking to a girl who challenges me and just doesn’t accept what I say at face value.”
I tried not to, but a large smile spread across my face. Even though some of the topics infuriated me, it was the most alive I’d felt in months. Normally when I tried to talk politics with people they just rolled their eyes at me. Trey kept talking and kept challenging me. It was like I’d finally been able to crawl out of the hole I’d been buried in, even if I knew I would probably go back to it.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it?”
I looked up from the ground and met his eyes. In the light they were even greener than the first time I saw him. They were like two sparkling emeralds, and they hypnotized me to my spot. “I do have a mind of my own to think if I want to see someone again,” I stammered, trying to regain control of my words.
“Well, Miss Remy, you’re going to see a lot of me whether you like it or not. We’re still neighbors.”
“You do have a point there, Mr. Chapman.”
I walked with him the rest of the way to our apartment, not really talking much but still standing together. As soon as we got off the elevator onto our floor, a smell permeated in the air like oregano and smoke. Trey told me the security team was just there for move-in and it looked like they left before someone started lighting up in their apartment. I wondered if he would call them back to investigate as soon as he got back to his place.
“Looks like someone is having a party,” I said, trying not to inhale the air.
Trey shook his head, not saying anything, just staring ahead.
We stopped at my door, and he turned to face me. The smell was stronger than it had been near the elevator, but I tried to ignore it. Goodbyes were awkward enough, but I didn’t want Trey to think we were on some sort of date and try to kiss me. I couldn’t go and punch the governor’s son if I didn’t want him to kiss me. But then there was the other scary part of me that secretly craved a goodnight kiss.
Then my mind drifted, thinking that he could possibly want more than just a kiss and find a way to invite me into his apartment. I had to keep my breathing in control, taking in slow deep breaths so I wouldn’t tense up. I knew exactly where my mace was in my purse if things did get heated. I hoped that it wouldn’t have to come to that. Trey didn’t seem like the type of guy that would take advantage, the media would have a field day with that, but then again, not everyone was what they seemed to be. And I’m sure his dad knew a thing or two about cover-ups.
Well, thanks for interrupting my dinner, I guess,” I said, rocking back and forth on my heels.
“Anytime.” He leaned his arm on my door frame.
“Okay, well, I have to be up early for work tomorrow. So I’ll see you around.”
I pulled my keys from my purse and quickly shoved them in the door. When I opened it a cloud of smoke pushed out. So much for being able to catch my breath.
Shit.
I ran in and slammed the door behind me. I wasn’t sure if Trey was still standing there or not, but I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea of the giant smoke wave coming from the apartment. In my head I thought maybe Sam had just burned something on the stove. Maybe the green leaves she was rolling earlier were for a friend.
But they weren’t.
Once I adjusted to the smog in the room, I saw that there were four more people sitting in my apartment and one of them was holding a giant, purple bong in their hand.
“Hey roomie, you�
�re back!” Sam held her hands up in the air, acting like we were the best of friends.
“Yeah, I just grabbed dinner.” I put my leftovers in the fridge and took a few tentative steps into the living room.
Sam sat in the chair, on top of Mac’s lap, and the other four sat in a row on the couch. Each one of them looked more stoned and greasier than the next with their blood shot eyes, torn jeans, and long, brightly colored hair. The girl sitting at the end of the couch pointed the bong in my direction.
“Do you want a hit?”
I put my hands up, shaking them. “No thanks, I’m good.” I turned to my roommate. “Hey, Sam?”
She looked up at me, her eyes as blood red as her hair.
“I’m just going to head into my room. I still have some unpacking to do, and I have to be to work early, but maybe we can hang tomorrow?”
She giggled. “Sounds good, roomie, oomie oh.”
I didn’t say another word and just backed slowly into my room and shut the door behind me. Great, just what I wanted, a stoner roommate. I mentally made a note that we would need to have a conversation about her smoking pot in the apartment. She should have known better since we had Mr. Anti-marijuana-governor’s-son living next door. I wouldn’t be surprised if his security guys came knocking down the door. Maybe it was better to let them handle it.
I took my phone out of my purse and walked into my bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I hadn’t called my mom yet, but I didn’t want Sam or any of her stoner friends to be listening. If the stoner gang was going to be a regular occurrence, maybe I would have to search the apartment ads again.
I sat on the closed toilet seat and dialed Mom’s cell phone number. It went straight to voicemail. Great. She started a new nursing job and was on second shift. I thought it might have been late enough to call her, but I’d probably have to wait another few hours. I tried the home line instead.
Dad picked up after the second ring.
“Remy residence.”
“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”