When You Come to Me

by Jade Alyse

  “Why is it so important that I come?” she asked him, narrowing her eyes at him. “Won’t your roommate be there?”

  “Yes…but…”

  “But…what?”

  “Natalie, stop making it so difficult,” he said with the roll of his eyes. “I know you want to come with me…”

  “I’m only eighteen,” she reminded him. “I’m not old enough…”

  “Yes, you are,” he told her. “Trust me…”

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” she said.

  “It’s not a wedding,” he said. “It’s this little place in Atlanta that Scotty loves…he wants me to try it out…”

  “So…go…”

  “You’re coming with me…”

  “I won’t like the music…”

  “How do you know that? What’s with you and boundaries?”

  “Boundaries? What boundaries?”

  “If anything’s remotely different then you refuse to try it out,” he explained. “It’s practically impossible for you to ever try something new…”

  “Not true…”

  “Oh, no? Well, prove me wrong, Chandler,” he said.

  They stopped and faced each other. He folded his arms. “Come to Halley’s with me and prove to me that you’re willing to try new things…”

  “You’re crazy…I’m not going all the way to Atlanta with you and your roommate…”

  “You don’t trust us?”

  Natalie eyed him.

  “You’ll be safe, I promise,” he assured her quietly. “We’re not bad guys…I thought you would have known that by now…”

  “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

  Brandon seemed slightly peeved then, as if the question had been completely ludicrous, as if she should have kept her mouth shut in the first place.

  “Yes, I do,” he admitted. “But she hates going places with Scotty and me, and I’m not really into hearing her whine again this time…”

  “You think I won’t whine?”

  “No,” he began with a sigh. “You’ll be so wrapped up in how much fun you’re having…”

  “We’ll see about all of that…”

  She didn’t tell Brandon that she loved the city. After all, living in Decatur did have its advantages. She had the skyscrapers within her reach, had the horns of impatient vehicles within earshot, with the smell of food floating in the air from restaurants sweeping past her nose. She didn’t tell him that part of her couldn’t wait to go, that a small part of her enjoyed anticipating the unexpected. Giving Brandon the advantage over her thoughts and feelings wasn’t something she was ready for just yet.

  She hadn’t been this concerned about what she wanted to wear since her friend Dominique’s graduation party the year before. She’d garnered ample affection for Kenneth Pierce since the eighth grade. She’d first admired his skin, which reminded her of smooth, dark chocolate, then his basketball playing skills, then his smile. When Dominique had informed her that Kenny might have felt the same way about her, a few nights before graduation, she was far more than elated, and couldn’t remember being that happy since she made the honor roll in the ninth grade. It was the night of Dominique’s party that Kenny gave her, her first real kiss by the tiki torches in her friend’s backyard, beneath balmy May stars.

  “You’re so pretty,” he’d whispered into her face. “I’ve wanted to do this since we rode the bus together eighth grade…”

  She didn’t stop blushing until she moved into her dorm room in Allen hall a couple of months later.

  Jasmine picked out her clothes for her.

  “Here,” she’d told her, pulling down a pair of dark-washed jeans from a hanger in her narrow closet. Jill Scott crooned in the background. “You look nice in these…”

  Jas continued to rummage through her pitiful wardrobe, her eyes narrowed ardently, biting her lip back.

  “Here,” she said again, pulling down a simple, black cowl neck sweater. “This looks good on you too…”

  Jas sat on her bed as she slipped on the clothes selected.

  “You’re the only girl?” Jas asked her.

  Natalie nodded. “Yea, I guess so…”

  “He must really like you…”

  “Who?”

  “Scotty’s roommate,” she told her. “He must really like you…”

  Natalie scoffed. “That’s nonsense…we’re barely even friends…”

  “Well, isn’t that the same guy that you left the party with before break?”

  Natalie stopped moving for a moment. She’d assumed that her hall mates, Jasmine especially, had forgotten about the fact that Natalie had left with some strange white boy and didn’t think to tell them where she’d ran off to.

  “Well…yea…”

  “I think he likes you,” Jas said with a sly grin.

  Natalie felt her cheeks warm. “Please, he has a girlfriend…”

  “Really? That’s a shame…”

  “They’ve been dating for almost three years…”

  “So, he’s committed…”

  “And, he’s twenty-one…”

  “He’s gorgeous…that’s what he is…”

  “Really? I hadn’t really noticed…”

  “You’re lying…”

  “Am not…” Natalie continued to dress herself.

  “Natalie Chandler, I’ve only seen him once and he took my breath away…”

  “Jas, now you’re just being silly…”

  “I might be, just a little. But, is it just me or is it strange that a boy who seems to be so serious about his girlfriend, doesn’t invite her?”

  “He said that she didn’t like going with him and his Scotty…”

  “Humph, or so he told you…”

  “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than necessary…”

  “But, you claim that you barely know him…”

  Natalie didn’t lie about that. She barely knew this Brandon Greene. But, she could understand Jasmine’s need to speculate. The situation surrounding her involvement with him looked as peculiar as it sounded. But, in rare cases, she’d become a sucker for curiosity; she secretly wanted to discover the Brandon outside of philosophy class, away from the beer bottle, away from the mystifying Sophia.

  He called at eight to say that he was on his way.

  “Are you ready?” he’d asked her.

  “Of course I am…”

  “I’m surprised that you haven’t backed out yet…”

  She was surprised herself. But she took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and quietly said, “I’m ready…come and get me…”

  He arrived a few minutes following the phone conversation, in Scotty’s black Yukon. She slid onto a leather seat in the back, shut the door behind her, and settled in to the sound of mellow hip-hop, Scotty beating his hands on his steering wheel, and Brandon looking right at her with his eyebrows raised.

  “Surprised?” she asked him, clutching her black leather purse close.

  “Pleasantly,” he told her. “You look nice…”

  Natalie gave herself a quick glance then looked at him again. “Nothing serious…”

  “I beg to differ,” he told her, looking at Scotty. “Do you remember Natalie?”

  Scotty looked back at her, clean-shaven with gel in his short, curly hair. “Oh yea, the chick from the party before break…nice to see you again…”

  “Likewise,” Natalie replied quietly.

  “Are you ready to go,” he asked her.

  Natalie nodded slowly. She was as ready as she’d mentally prepared herself for.

  It took them two hours to get into the city, beneath the twinkling lights of the skyscrapers, below a clear, black starlit sky. It was two hours worth of The Scotty and Brandon Comedy Hour, in which they spent most of it commenting on how ugly certain girls had been on a bar venture the night before, or how drunk they’d been. Natalie quietly observed.

  Brandon was funny, she concluded. She tried to keep herself from laughing when he tal
ked about the plump girl who grinded on him, offered her number, and told him how sexy she thought he was. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the fact that one of her large breasts was mere centimeters from falling out of her dress, and she had deposits of bright red lipstick caked onto her two front teeth.

  It took them almost another hour, once they’d reached downtown, to find a parking space. Scotty was reluctant to pay for parking, which seemed the inevitable choice, and as he coursed through the bustling city streets, Brandon ranted, “You stupid bastard, you just passed a good parking space right there…there goes another one! Scotty, are you fucking blind? Look…you just passed another one!”

  “Are you fucking blind, you overgrown twit? It clearly said ‘Twenty-four Hour Towing’…I’m taking you to get your fucking eyes checked…”

  Brandon hit his arm. “Not in front of the girl, you dick…”

  “Like saying ‘dick’ is any better,” Scotty said. “And I’m sorry, Miss Natalie…your friend Brandon is probably the dumbest person that ever walked the face of the earth…”

  “You just wait until we get out of this car,” Brandon told him, glancing out the window. “I’ll show you how dumb I am…”

  “Scott,” Natalie began quietly. “Aren’t you being a little loose with the word ‘Friend’…?”

  Scotty laughed.

  Brandon looked back at her. “So, we’re not friends?”

  “I don’t think that that was ever established…”

  “Fine then, we’re not,” Brandon concluded. “I will no longer supply you with free pizza…”

  “I can live without it…”

  “I think I like her, Brandon,” Scotty chuckled. “I like you, Natalie…”

  “I think I like you too, Scotty…”

  Brandon said nothing more.

  “You’ll like Halley’s, Natalie,” Scotty told her, slowly wrapping an arm around her. They walked along the sidewalk, felt a biting chill in the air. “They play the best music that I’ve heard in my entire life…”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Brandon told her, folding his arm. “He only goes here for the booze and boobs…”

  “Why must you be so vulgar when there’s a lady present? Where’s your home training? From now on, Natalie, stay by me…I’ll protect you…”

  Natalie and Brandon met eyes. She then allowed her eyes to roam the length of his body for a fleeting moment. He liked to wear black. And it looked good on him. His black hair and black outfit created a startling silhouette, and she was certain at that moment that only he could pull something like that off. She wouldn’t dare tell him so; there was something so comforting about keeping her distance from him…at least, for the time being.

  Halley’s was located down a flight of steep, rickety stairs, down a long, moist corridor, where the bass knocked against its tattered walls. Scotty still had his arm around her as they entered the main room, shadowed and amber lit, stale, people-heavy and loud. There was a main hardwood dance floor; an elevated disc jockey booth off to the side and a series of plush couches set beneath canopies, enclosed by a series of freestanding candleholders.

  “Looks like I picked a great night to go,” Scotty began with a pleased smile. “What do you think, Natalie?”

  Natalie wasn’t sure the moment she stood there, staring at all of the people. She felt a shrinking feeling inside of her and she strangely appreciated Scotty’s embrace.

  “Natalie’s just hoping that she doesn’t get hit in the head with a bottle again,” Brandon teased, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”

  Maybe. She only hoped that they wouldn’t abandon her as her silly roommate had done the previous semester. Perhaps they could be her guards, to shield her from any incoming, aerial bottle attacks.

  They found a couch in the back, away from the rest of the crowd. Natalie sat next to Brandon. She wasn’t sure why she watched him, watched his eyes survey the crowd, as he rhythmically tapped his fingers against the upholstery. She studied him as if he was the most fascinating person in the room, and she dreaded the moment that he’d turn and catch her staring at him. There was a sense of peace about him. She witnessed his slow inhales and his exhales, his slow blinking. There was something different about his attitude, as if he had been previously conscious of his Pretty Boy image and wanted to strip himself of the disposition immediately. There was something urbane about his essence that she was certain she’d missed before. The darkness that shrouded his figure attracted her eyes for more than a fleeting interval, and the music that played over the speakers seemed to suit him and her frame of mind. It was quiet and jazzy, melodic and smooth…

  “You can stop staring at me now,” he said suddenly, turning his head to her.

  Startled, she quickly turned her eyes away, lowered them and pretended to search through her purse. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmured.

  “I have good peripheral vision,” he told her. “These eyes aren’t big for no reason…”

  “Sorry,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm.

  “I believe that only ‘friends’ are allowed to stare at one another,” he whispered teasingly. “And you made that painfully clear that we weren’t such…”

  Surely he knew that she’d lied. She looked at him.

  “I accept apologies free of charge,” he smiled.

  “I was only kidding…”

  “I hope so,” he replied. “I don’t drunkenly complain to just anyone…didn’t you realize that?”

  “Pardon my ignorance…”

  “Pardon accepted…”

  They smiled at one another as the song changed, as they sat bathed in ambient light.

  “I lied to you,” he told her.

  “Yea?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he sighed. “I have been here before…”

  “Friends don’t lie to one another,” Natalie reminded him.

  “We can have a fresh start,” he advised. “I just really wanted you to come…you looked like you needed a little…fresh air…”

  “And how’d you guess that?”

  “Chandler, your eyes tell more than you want them to,” he whispered to her.

  She wasn’t sure that she liked knowing that he studied her eyes. Suddenly, Jasmine’s words struck her: “But, is it just me or is it strange that a boy who seems to be so serious about his girlfriend, doesn’t invite her?”

  “And what about Sophia?”

  “What about her?”

  “Don’t you study her eyes?”

  He sighed. “Yes, once upon a time, I did…”

  She nodded and looked toward the crowd, who rocked to the music slowly.

  “Why do you ask about her so much?” he inquired.

  Because she started to wonder if she even existed. She kept quiet and thought about delivering a better answer to him. She glared at him. She wouldn’t tell him that she was strangely and utterly curious about the girl who he had no trouble mentioning every time he opened his mouth, the girl who obviously had his heart in her tight clutches, who gave him more grief than any other relationship that she knew. It was all connected to wanting to know more about him.

  Why she cared so much, she would never understand.

  Natalie only shrugged her shoulders like an impish child. “I’m just…curious…”

  “Just curious?”

  She nodded in reply. “Just…curious…”

  He sighed. “There’s not much to her, I suppose…”

  “Blond, beautiful…”

  “A deadly combination in my eye,” Brandon continued. “That combination will make you do things you never thought you’d ever do…”

  Natalie wanted him to elaborate, but he never did. He only stared blankly.

  “Miss Natalie,” Scotty called out to her, his hands extended in her direction. Scotty had gone to the disc jockey’s booth earlier to talk with a few of his friends. “I would be honored if you’d join me on the dance floor for the next
number…”

  Sheepishness filled her insides, and she bashfully shook her head in refusal.

  Scotty’s face fell. “C’mon, Nat, I know you got a few moves in you…”

  Sure she did. The music was so nice, so smooth, so calm, so inviting. She wasn’t sure she could stand for Brandon staring at her the entire time. There was something about him watching her, studying her that unnerved her to fright.

  “Go ahead, Natalie,” Brandon encouraged. “He doesn’t bite…”

  She smiled. “I’ll go…if you go…”

  “You’ve got yourself a challenge…”

  “Just pick some random girl,” she offered. “That is, if Sophia approves…”

  “Ha, ha,” Brandon said, rolling his eyes.

  “I still like her, Brandon,” Scotty said, laughing.

  Brandon seemed to have no trouble finding a dance partner. Natalie felt foolish. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who fell victim to his natural gravitational pull. Natalie watched as he, completely oblivious to his eye-catching status, strolled along the bar, and she witnessed more than five or six girls glare at him as he strode past, whispering to their friends who sat next to them. Brandon’s eyes settled on a blond who sat on one of the last stools. They exchanged small talk, and Brandon reached for her hand and proceeded to pull her off of the stool.

  “You’re a nice dancer,” Scotty said.

  So was he. Scotty Kelly lived up to his cultural hype. His movements were fluid and easy, and he seemed to have no inhibitions about twirling her here and twirling her there.

  “I’m glad that Brandon brought you,” he admitted. “The last girl he brought was Sophia…and between you and me…she’s a bitch…”

  Natalie felt herself laugh. She found it strangely comforting that Brandon’s secret lover wasn’t perfect.

  “So, you’re the Beer Bottle Girl?”

  Great, as much as she’d tried to avoid it, she still got associated with alcohol.

  She nodded. She figured she would accept the nickname for the time being…

  “You’re the girl that Brandon likes to whisk off places.”

  Natalie quickly shook her head. “It’s not like that, you see…we’re barely even friends…”

  She wasn’t sure why she had to defend herself. And she became angry with Brandon then. Had he said something obscene about her? She most certainly didn’t want to be placed in the “whore” category. She had nothing but respect for his girlfriend.