by Erin Noelle
I let her read the conversation on the phone and then she handed it back to me with a silly grin on her face. In her sing-song, little girl’s voice she started, “Scarlett and Dylan sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, first comes love . . .” She was unable to finish the song because I began to pummel her across the head with one of her pillows.
“Okay, I surrender, I surrender! No more songs, I promise.” Evie could hardly contain her laughter enough to get the words out.
“So do you want to go back there this Saturday?” I asked trying to figure out when I was going to see Dylan again.
“Sure, and this time I plan to have much more fun, especially now that I know you’ll be there with Dylan to watch over you. I’ll text Jess tomorrow to make sure it’s cool if we stay at her place again.”
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to think about staying at Jess’s house last Saturday and the memory of sleeping in Ash’s bed—of how his hands felt on my skin and how his lips melted against mine, but I quickly replaced it with the anticipation of seeing Dylan again. As difficult as it was, I could not torture myself with false hopes and mixed signals; I needed to focus my energy on actual possibilities. And Dylan Stephens had definitely become an actual possibility.
Evie and I hugged each other goodnight and I took a quick shower before hopping into bed. I opted for a hot, smutty book with as little angst as possible to join me and B.O.B. for a much-needed therapy session before going to sleep. Dylan had been right, my dreams were sweet indeed.
Evie and my daily schedules kept the same blueprint as the first day for the rest of the school week. We attended class in the morning and did our homework and studied in the early afternoons. After a light dinner of either a salad or a sandwich (we were desperately trying not to gain the freshman fifteen everyone had warned us about), we spent the evenings either reading or playing around online. I loved that we had quickly established a routine; Evie knew I was a little OCD about schedules, calendars, and time tables and I was much less stressed as long as I knew what to expect each day. My obsession with scheduling and planning was a direct result of my parents scheduling every waking hour of my life. Living a life that was basically pre-planned was all I had ever known and it was going to take a little while before I felt comfortable enough to deviate from that.
Our classes were pretty much what we expected—the professors were demanding and the material was challenging. We had quite a bit of required reading and outside class assignments, which unfortunately put a damper on our personal reading. I had read so much during the summer with the combination of the explosion of chick lit indie authors and my lack of a social life, and I was rather sad to replace my happily-ever-afters with quadratic formula equations and stories of the Spanish Inquisition. Evie and I had Biology and Algebra together. Both classes were your run-of-the-mill freshman college class. The professors were dull and the material was even worse. I hated math and science which is why I specifically chose to take these with her, I hoped her tutoring could get me through with at least a B. My other academic classes, History and English, I enjoyed quite a bit and really didn’t mind the excessive reading and writing. All of my professors were women; however, Evie had two male teachers, one of which she had deemed a BB possibility. She was working on finding out more information about his personal life because all she knew thus far was that he didn’t wear a wedding ring. I have to admit, I was a tad bit jealous, but at the moment I would just have to live out that fantasy vicariously through her.
Dylan texted me a brief good morning each day before class, but after our Wednesday evening text exchange grew outrageously long, he called on Thursday claiming his fingers were still sore from the night before and unable to perform. I preferred the phone call to the texts anyways, I loved hearing his voice and his warm, hearty laugh always brought a huge smile to my face. I couldn’t help but ask him teasingly if there were other parts of his body incapable of performing on consecutive days, which he assured me there weren’t. I was glad he couldn’t see the bright shade of red I turned the moment the words left my mouth. My brashness probably shocked me more than it did him, and I was a tiny bit proud of myself for being able to conjure up a witty comeback.
Our conversations were easy and comfortable, never forced or awkward. We talked a lot about our childhoods and families. I learned that he was born and raised in Chicago and that he was the oldest of three kids, he had a sister four years younger than him and a brother two years behind her. All of his immediate family still lived in the Chicago area even though his parents were divorced. He had come to Houston because of the scholarships he had been offered by the University of St. Thomas, and he had an older cousin that lived here that virtually allowed him to live rent free. He also said he had been ready for milder winters; as the oldest male in the family, especially after his dad left, he was always the one in his house in charge of shoveling snow or de-icing doors and windows. With each revelation about himself, Dylan became more and more attractive. He seemed to be someone who truly valued his family and he most definitely had a successful future ahead of him with his work ethic and drive.
I told him the little there was to tell about the events of my life leading up to college—ballet, music, soccer, and school. That about summed it up; I always knew I wouldn’t be a good character to base a book about unless it was one of those children’s book that had one word on each page describing the action depicted above it. In that case, I would have a four page book—awesome. Maybe it could be lengthened to six pages if we added ‘sleeping’ and ‘eating’—even more awesome. I was honest with him about my lack of experience, socially and sexually, but downplayed my parent’s controlling, irrational method of child-rearing. I just left it at “They are different” and “We aren’t really close,” which proved to be more accurate than I ever imagined.
By Saturday morning I was more than concerned that my parents had not attempted to contact me one time since I had left their house after our big fight—not a call, a text, an email . . . nothing. I toyed back and forth with the idea of contacting them, but I wasn’t quite sure if they were still that mad at me or if they were disappointed in me or what exactly their problem was. It pissed me off actually. For eighteen years, they controlled nearly everything I did or said and when I stood up for myself to them just one time, they let it all go? Let me go? They didn’t even care enough to make sure that I had arrived safely. Were they happy that I was finally gone so that they were free of my burden? That’s exactly how I had felt many times over the years, like a burden had been placed upon them to raise the most perfect child ever. When I didn’t win first place at a music competition, or when I graduated salutatorian instead of valedictorian, or any other time that I didn’t excel in something immediately, they made me feel as if I failed them on their mission. Well, screw a bunch of that. I was tired of carrying their burden of being sucky ass parents to my older brother, Matt, by letting him run around with no supervision whatsoever. Truth be told, they were sucky ass parents with me too, they had just jumped from one end of the spectrum to the other. I decided calling them would only upset me in some way and for now, it was probably best if I waited for them to reach out to me.
I decided that I needed a little retail therapy to help me get out of my funk over my parents, not to mention my clothing options were still limited with what I had bought the previous weekend. Evie had a headache and wanted to take a nap before we went out that evening, but she let me take her car to the mall. Shopping by myself was a new concept for me; my mom or Evie had always accompanied me before. I felt a little lonely not having someone with me and I missed Evie’s honest assessment of clothes I tried on, but I knew that one thing I really needed to work on was learning how to make choices for myself, no matter how big or small. Choosing clothes that I wanted to wear seemed like a harmless place to practice my decision making skills. A few hours later I headed back to the apartment with several bags in hand and a pleased smile on my face, feeling confident th
at I had excelled at my self-assigned task.
Evie was in the shower when I got back to our place so I decided to make us a quick snack before getting ready. Once I heard the water turn off, I called out to her, “Hey Eve, I’m back! Didn’t want to scare you!”
“Hey Sam! Did you find anything good?” she yelled back.
Instead of continuing the conversation through the walls, I walked into her room. “Yeah, I found a few things. I can’t wait to show you, I hope you approve,” I said. “It was no fun without you there though! How’s your head anyways?” I asked concerned.
“I feel better. I don’t know what happened, I just had this awful pain behind my right eye and then this nagging headache developed. Maybe I spent too much time looking at my computer screen last night and this morning, who knows? The aspirin and nap took care of it and I am as good as new now,” she smiled a bit hesitantly.
“Okay, if you’re sure . . . we don’t have to go tonight if you aren’t feeling up to it,” I offered.
“Don’t be silly, Scarlett. I’m fine. It was a headache and it’s gone, now drop it,” Evie warned and turned to her closet. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked changing the subject.
I knew that the conversation was over, but there was still something that didn’t feel right. Evie had experienced several headaches in the last few months which was odd for her, she never was one to feel bad or get sick. Her parents had been concerned as well, but much like she just did to me, she assured them that it wasn’t anything serious and would resume her usual cheerful self. I promised myself to insist she see a doctor if it happened again.
“I bought a new dress today that I want you to see. What about you?”
“I’m not sure yet . . .” Evie continued to sort through her options hanging in the closet. “But you better get moving, we need to leave here in like an hour!”
“An hour? Why so soon?” I was confused. I looked at the clock and confirmed that it was only 6:30. Last Saturday we didn’t leave until close to 9:00.
“Didn’t I tell you last night? Jess wants to go grab dinner at this new restaurant beforehand. We are supposed to meet them around 8:00.” She walked out of her closet still in just her bra and panties and holding two different sundresses. “Which one? The pink and yellow one with a low cut neckline that whispers ‘Please fuck me’ or the red and black striped one with a shorter skirt that screams ‘Fuck me now!’”
“Let’s go with the whispers and the please for tonight. We are still on preppy college boy duty, right? I sure hope so since I’m meeting Dylan there. Plus we don’t want your inner Dominatrix scaring them away,” I snorted. “We’ll save the other for the night we are hunting deviant, misunderstood rocker boys.”
“Then we need to do that soon,” she retorted with a playful frown. “Because I look hot in this dress.” She held the red and black one up across her body while staring at her image in the mirror. “Hmmpph . . . I guess you’re right. It may be a bit much for tonight.” And she threw it back into the closet.
Moments later I jumped in my own shower to soap, shampoo, and shave. After I carefully applied my makeup and styled my hair in two long braids, I nodded an approval at my image in the mirror. Moving to my closet, I chose a white eyelet matching bra and thong set. I knew that I was a long way from being ready for Dylan to see me in my panties, but just knowing what I had on under my clothes made me feel sexier and more confident. My dress was a gauzy white sundress with a sweetheart neckline and a hem that fell mid-thigh. Again, I wore my boots and accessorized with a long turquoise necklace that hung low on my chest. A few minutes, and one last look in the mirror later, we were headed out the door.
We weren’t in the car five minutes when Evie approached the subject I knew she had been anxious to discuss all day, the conversation I had dreaded.
“So what are you going to do about Ash tonight?” she asked with a little too much sweetness in her voice.
“What do you mean exactly?” I asked, playing dumb with the same over-the-top sugary tone. She glared at me warning me that she was serious. I sighed loudly and slumped my shoulders forward.
“Oh, Evie, I don’t know.” I confessed. “I’m just going to act like nothing happened, I guess. What else am I supposed to do?”
“How do you feel about him? You know, now that you’ve had a week to process everything that happened and now that you’ve been talking to Dylan more and more.”
“Confused. I feel completely confused about the whole thing. I mean, like I told you before, there is this intense attraction that I feel toward Ash. It’s not just physical, it’s . . . more. I just don’t know how to describe it. But obviously, it’s not just me that he has that effect on, girls throw themselves at him all the time, and from the way Jess talks it’s always been that way. I’m just one of many gullible girls that easily fell victim to his charm. I’m not silly enough to think I’m anything special to him, despite what he says.”
Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Evie or myself that it really wasn’t a big deal to me . . . that he wasn’t a big deal to me. There really was no reason he should be. I had literally spent less than twenty four hours with the guy, I hardly knew anything about him, and the things I did know were like flashing neon signs telling me to stay away. But not a day had passed during the week that he didn’t creep into my thoughts at some point. I saw those incredible greenish-blue eyes staring into me, I heard his voice whispering in my ear, felt his breath on the back of my neck. It almost seemed the harder I tried to stop thinking about him, the more I did. I was still curious about the reason for the text, but doubted that I would mention it to him unless he brought it up.
“I think you should just have fun, Scarlett.” Evie said, interrupting yet another daydream I was having about Ash. “If there truly is some undeniable attraction between the two of you, then ya’ll will end up together with a magical, fairy-tale, happily-ever-after. But you know as well as I do that it takes a bunch of other bullshit in between to get that point—a bunch of unnecessary angst, some preventable misunderstandings, and you both need to make some ill-advised and senseless decisions. So right now, I think you should just let everything happen and stop over thinking all of it . . . I know that’s easier said than done.” She stopped and gave me a heartening smile. “You know I just want what’s best for you, Sam. And right now, Ash is right in that you need to experience a lot more of what life has to offer. Plus, who else is going to help me sample all of the book boyfriends?”
I smiled back at her, so incredibly thankful that I had such an amazing friend. She always knew the right thing to say to me to both comfort me and lead me in the right direction. “You’re right Evie. I’m going to try my best to just take that night for what it was, which when I think about it now, really wasn’t much of anything.” I thought about what I had just said and hoped that I would be strong enough to resist Ashton Walker.
I changed the subject to improve the mood before our night out began. “Speaking of our book boyfriends and the contest, you are participating in the competition tonight aren’t you? I don’t like pity wins.”
“Absolutely. Last week was just a warm-up round . . . just letting you get your feet a little wet.”
“My feet weren’t the only thing getting wet.” I joked in a mock sultry voice. “No, seriously,” I continued. “So tonight we are doing preppy college boy again since I kind of don’t have a choice with Dylan being there and all, but what’s next and when?”
“Hmmm . . . I haven’t thought about it really. I’ll start working on it though.” Evie looked downright giddy thinking about our next adventure and we hadn’t even started on tonight’s.
We sat in comfortable silence until we got to the restaurant. I was in such a good mood and was suddenly really looking forward to the night ahead. After finally finding a parking place in what seemed to be the next zip code, we hoofed across the parking lot to the front doors. People were
loitering outside, some sitting on benches while others were smoking cigarettes. I hoped the wait for a table wouldn’t be too long, the place looked packed and I was starving.
Right before we walked inside, Evie realized that she had forgotten her phone in her car on the charger. I turned around to go with her to retrieve it, but she stopped me and told me to go ahead inside and let Jess know that we were there. I wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of her walking alone at night to her car, but she pointed out to me the numerous lights dispersed across the well-lit lot, the security driving around in a golf cart, and the mace container she held in her hand. Without another good reason for her not to go, I entered the restaurant on a hunt to find Jess in the sea of bodies.
It didn’t take long for me to find the back of Meg’s platinum blonde pixie cut hair across the waiting area, standing at the bar. I could only assume that Jess’s short self was standing next to her. I slithered through the people, trying not to step on anyone or accidentally hit someone’s arm that was holding a drink, to make my way to them. As I got closer, I noticed that standing in between Meg and Jess was none other than Ash. There was no mistaking him, even from the back. Oh shit. It appeared my will was going to be tested earlier than I had thought. One foot in front of the other, I could do this.
When I got just a few feet behind them, I overheard Ash ask Jess, “Five? Who else is joining us?” I froze. I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I just couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know what his reaction and response was going to be when Jess told him that we were the ones meeting them there.
“Evie and Scarlett. Why? Is that okay?” Jess asked looking up at Ash. He didn’t reply at first, or at least not that I heard, but he must’ve made a disapproving face because Jess raised her voice at him. “What’s the problem, Ash? You told me nothing happened between you and Scarlett last weekend. You said that y’all just stayed up late talking and passed out because she was having a hard time sleeping. I warned you to stay away from her, Ash, goddammit. I didn’t want anything like this to happen. I knew they were going to be hanging out with us a lot . . . and she’s so good Ash, she really doesn’t need to deal with your shit.”