by Jenn Windrow
She nodded and let me lead her to the nearest empty table. “Grayson, why don’t you get us some pizza?” I pulled her into the seat next to me. “What kind do you like, Liza?”
“Vegetarian.”
I opened my mouth to place my order, but Grayson stopped me with a finger on my lip. “Sausage, mushroom, and black olive.” Then he left with Curtis to get our lunch.
Momentarily thrown that Grayson knew what kind of pizza I liked, I sat there like a slack-jawed fool. But we weren’t dealing with my messed up love life, this was about connecting Liza with someone who deserved her. “Curtis is cute.”
She looked at the line at the pizza place and studied Curtis for a moment. “A guy like that wouldn’t be interested in me.” He’d been weighed and measured and found wanting.
It was obvious that a long line of losers had destroyed Liza’s self-esteem.
“Why wouldn’t he be interested in a cute girl like you?”
“He’s one of the elite. I’m…” She paused and picked at a hole in her well-worn jeans. “Well, I’m not.”
Our conversation stopped when Grayson and Curtis returned with trays containing four pieces of steaming pizza and drinks. “Hungry, ladies?” Grayson took the seat next to me.
Liza scooted over to make room for Curtis, who sat down close but made sure that he didn’t accidently touch her. She never looked at him once, not even when he put her plate in front of her. The silence drove me crazy.
“What position do you play, Curtis?” I pointed to his rugby jersey.
“Right wing.” I didn’t know what that meant, but thought it would help get the conversation started.
Crickets chirped.
“What’s your major, Liza?” Making small talk with college students had been much easier when I was their age, but a seven-year age gap proved we had nothing in common.
“Astronomy.”
Curtis looked her way, his eyebrows raised, obviously impressed. “You’re studying the universe?”
“The stars and planets and everything beyond.” She shrugged, still concentrating on the cheesy goodness in front of her. “My family used to tell me that I lived with my head in the clouds. Guess I decided to see what was up there.”
“And what a pretty head it is.” Curtis tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I know a thing or two about what’s above the clouds.” His smile turned into something from a porn film. “I might even have a big telescope you could use.”
Grayson met my eyes with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged, unsure what to make of the verbal foreplay happening in front of us.
Liza laughed and a true smile lit her face. “Will it take me to a castle in the sky?” She touched the tip of his nose with her finger and a small spark shot between them.
Their matching arrows flickered, faded, and disappeared. A match made. Our job was done. Liza found a man who would treat her with the respect she deserved. And Curtis found a girl who wanted to be loved and would love him in return.
Liza and Curtis continued to flirt while Grayson and I finished our meal. We gathered our trays, threw out our garbage and they never looked in our direction.
We were about to walk through the door when a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I turned around and Liza was standing behind me, Curtis just a few feet behind her. She put her arms around me and hugged me tight. “That’s twice you’ve saved me. You’re some kind of guardian angel.” She smiled, this time it went all the way to her brown eyes, which sparkled under the lights.
“Noel, sometimes it’s hard to see what you need, when the only thing you can think about is what you want. Maybe your perfect match is closer than you think.” She pointed at Grayson waiting by the door.
“I’m scared,” I said.
She leaned in close and whispered. “Grayson’s not like Brad.” Then she folded her hand into her soul mate’s and left.
Liza seemed wise beyond her years, but she didn’t know anything about my feelings for Grayson. Neither did I.
Grayson held up my hand and lightly touched the center diamond of my ring. “The engagement’s back on?” Sorrow and disappointment and regret weighed heavily in his words.
“No. When I put it on this morning, that’s what I wanted.” I pulled my hand from his when the lecherous lusty tingles started. “Now, I’m not sure what I want.”
“Len isn’t the man for you.”
“But are you?”
“You’ll never know until you give us a try.”
“I’m not the kind of girl who will share the person she loves with a multitude of other women. I’ve already done that. And I’m pretty sure you’re not a one-girl kind of guy.”
Grayson threw his hands up in the air. “You swear you know me so well, know the real me, but you’re wrong. Maybe one day you’ll take the time to see beyond the surface and look at what’s buried deep. Maybe one day you’ll realize what we’re doing with every soul mate connection, and how it pertains to you.” He walked a few feet away, stopped, and then marched back. “I hope you find the version of perfect you’re searching for.” Then he turned his back on me and got lost in a sea of backpacks.
I was pretty sure Grayson had called me a selfish bitch in the politest way possible. Prick. I didn’t like it, but I also didn’t like the way his departure made me feel. The emotions his words had stirred. But most of all I didn’t like that Grayson could quite possibly be right. I stood in front of the door, hands at my side, frozen. His words echoing through my brain, and reverberating through my heart.
Cupid’s ring tone rang from my purse. I pulled my phone out, hoping for an answer to this morning’s plea. But Cupid found yet another way to disappoint me.
Chemistry Building. 1:30p.m. Blue arrow.—Q
Two jobs in one day?
1:15. Not a lot of time and the Chemistry building was all the way across campus. If I planned on making the connection I was going to have to run faster than a Miami housewife to a sale on breast implants.
I made it to the Chemistry building with a minute to spare. Grayson stood off to the side by a line of vending machines, his shoulder leaning against the brick wall, earbuds drowning out the noise of the campus. I walked up, cautious, nervous, afraid to see the rebuff in his expression, not sure how I felt about his words earlier. “What’s this all about?” I held up my phone.
Grayson shrugged, never meeting my eyes.
The silent treatment. Probably better that way, I didn’t want to hear any more of his clinical analysis of my life. I walked to the other side of the vending machine and leaned against the side.
It took thirty seconds and the sight of two matching blue arrows approaching from opposite sides of the building to help me see that Cupid’s answer to my plea couldn’t have been any clearer if he had cleaned it with Windex.
Thirteen
Donkey Dung with a Cherry on Top
Len and Lauren, coming from opposite directions. Converging on one spot. Right where I stood.
Those matching blue arrows might as well have been drilling their pointy ends into my gut because the sight of them delivered jabs of pain into all the essential parts needed for living. Not because I wanted Len to be mine, but because without Len there was only one choice, one contender for my heart.
I moved from the vending machine and leaned against the brick wall, the sharp edges of the concrete and mortar pressing through my thin, peasant blouse and into my skin, reminding me that this was completely real and not a dream. Grayson crossed the short distance between us and laid his hand on my shoulder, offering me a little comfort. Comfort that made me feel weak and pathetic and pitiful.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I shrugged off his pity attempt, not wanting to feel anything but anger.
He placed his hand back on my shoulder. I resisted ripping it off and transformed my face into something out of a horror movie. He didn’t even flinch. “They’re coming over here. It’s your heart on the line. I’ll follow your lead, do what you want.” Once a
gain offering me a small bit of kindness I didn’t deserve.
What did I want to do? Besides let the tears that tickled my eyes escape. Len was destined to be with Lauren, and I was destined to spend my days with a man who would end up hurting me. “You need to hide.” That was the only thing I could think to say. “Just hide, and I’ll figure this out.”
“Hiding me is not going to fix this mess.”
“If Len sees you, CSI will be the only ones able to match all the body parts left after he explodes.” I gave him a shove. “We don’t have time to argue, they’re getting closer.”
Grayson ran his hand through his hair and held his tongue, even though I know he wanted to say more. “Fine. I’ll be around the corner. Watching.” He walked away, and I freed the breath I’d been holding.
Len moved closer, his head buried in his phone. Lauren approached from the other side. The choice was mine, a last minute Hail Mary to let my heart go and do the right thing, or keep being Noel, selfish and self-involved.
Selfish and self-involved fit like a well-worn glove. Doing the right thing was like trying to turn a crack whore into a debutante.
Len looked up and heaven above must have illuminated my engagement ring in a spotlight of golden rays, because his gaze settled on the diamond on my finger.
His face lit up in a brilliant smile reserved for someone who wasn’t about to get his heart crushed. He rushed over and lifted my hand, similar to how Grayson had earlier. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Cupid had a way of turning an ordinary day into a heaping pile of donkey dung.
My gaze wandered to Lauren, who walked up to one of the vending machines and fed money into the slot. The machine whirled for a moment before the dollar came sliding back out. I had only seen her on two occasions, but both times she looked perfectly put together. Today must be an off day. Her designer duds were in disarray and she needed to spend some quality time in a salon.
Len didn’t look any better. His hair hung in his eyes and he wore the same clothes as last night. Were these the consequences of missed opportunities to be with your perfect match? Not just the deterioration of their souls, but of their complete being? Len needed Lauren and Lauren needed Len. I’d worry about who I needed after we connected our forlorn lovers.
A resigned sigh left my lips and I wondered if Grayson watched me from the sidelines. Time to bathe the crack whore.
“I don’t know what it means. When I put it on this morning things seemed so clear, but now...”
I glanced back at Lauren. Watched her reach into her purse, pull out a perfectly crisp dollar bill, and feed it into the slot. The machine spit it out. She ran her hands through her hair and checked her watch before diving back into her purse.
“Now things are foggy…” My voice faded along with my hope.
Len put his hand on my shoulder. “Then why are you here?”
Students filed in and out, armed with knowledge, their backpacks stuffed with books, ready for today’s lesson. “I think I’m here to learn a lesson.”
“You’re not making sense.” His fingers squeezed my shoulder.
The rest of Len’s reply was interrupted by the sound of a high heel connecting with the plastic front of the vending machine and some un-civilized words leaving Lauren’s lipstick-covered mouth. “Darn it. Why won’t this piece of crap take my money?” She kicked it even harder, denting the front.
I had to admire her restraint. My language would have been a lot more colorful, and the machine would have been tipped over on its side by this point. All eyes were focused on the ruckus, but Len hadn’t even noticed. The old Len—before Cupid, bobbing arrows, and missed opportunities to meet his match—would have rushed to her aid, done the gentlemanly thing, and offered assistance.
The new Len, the hard, tough Len, didn’t even glance her way. He was one thousand percent focused on me, to the point of obsession. Almost as if Cupid shot him with Apollo’s golden arrow of lust.
Lauren kicked the machine again then thrust her hands up in the air. After a few moments she leaned her head against the uncooperative hunk of junk. “This has been the worst day ever.”
Grayson emerged from his hiding spot around the corner, dollar bill in his hand. He spared a moment to glance my way before approaching Lauren. “Here, let me help.”
She stepped aside and Grayson fed the bill into the machine, it slid in without a problem. “What would you like?” he asked.
“Red licorice, please.” She let out a sigh when the machine whirled and spit out her snack. Grayson handed her the treat. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” She scrunched her eyes, taking a good look.
“I bumped into you at the bank.”
“That’s right.” She held up her prize. “Well, thank you for coming to my rescue.” She moved on to the soda machine.
Len may not have noticed his soul mate, but he sure didn’t miss Grayson and his act of chivalry.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Len’s face approached eggplant purple, and he grabbed my arm and backed me into the wall.
I didn’t offer any excuses or explanations. What was the point?
Grayson stepped behind Len and grabbed his shoulder. “Let her go.” His eyes were two blocks of ice as he looked at Len.
Len shook his arm off. “She’s not yours.” He turned from me, and I scrambled away from the brick. “She belongs with me. Just because the two of you have had sex, doesn’t give you any claim on her.”
Grayson shook his head and sighed. “Right now…” He turned those cold blue eyes on me and let them settle there. “I’d be happy to be free from her, from you, from this whole mess, but some cosmic joke has declared that Noel and I belong together.”
“Belong together?” His shouted words echoed through the vestibule. “You’ve known her what…four weeks? I’ve been with her for two years.” His eyes blazed like I was matador with a red cape and he was the prize bull. “You know what, you can have her.” He turned his back on me and walked away.
Len left me standing there, the hurt evident in the slouch of his shoulders, the hanging of his head, but the worst thing about Len walking away…he’d left without Lauren once again.
I turned toward the soda machine hoping that I could still turn this day around, fix the mess that I had caused, heal Len’s heart, but Lauren had turned into Houdini and poofed.
“Where’s Lauren?” I asked Grayson who had gone back to his ignore-Noel pose. I wonder how long it had taken him to perfect his?
“Looks like she left to find a less drama-filled place to enjoy her snack.”
I watched Len move farther through the crowd. “We’ve got to fix this mess.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“You go find Lauren, and I’ll stop Len.” I pushed past Grayson before he could say a word, and rushed after Len, yelling like a crazy loon through campus.
“Len.” He ignored me and kept moving. “Len.” I pushed past the students, the teachers, the onlookers. Not caring who I plowed into, just knowing I couldn’t let Len go another day without being connected to Lauren. I caught up to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Len, please, just hear me out.”
He stopped in front of a magazine kiosk, a small building made out of particleboard, and held together by a few nails, and faced me. At the moment, I wished he hadn’t. That I hadn’t seen the hurt in his eyes that almost brought me to my knees.
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” He stepped forward invading my personal space, chest hitting mine, forcing me to back away from him. “I don’t want to hear from you, talk to you, or see you ever again.” He stepped even closer, forcing me into a rack of magazines.
He moved closer, I looked behind me, but there was no way to avoid the collision.
I backed into the kiosk until the makeshift shelter groaned, creaked, and then wobbled like a Weeble, but this Weeble fell straight to the ground. Magazines hit the dirty concr
ete, splayed out across the student commons. Time. People. Vogue. Playboy. All over. Two hundred now-damaged magazines surrounded me.
A small man of Asian descent ran up, hand waving over his head, yelling. “What you do? What you do?” He bent down and picked up a battered copy of Sports Illustrated and shook it in my direction. “You make a mess of my inventory.”
“I’m so sorry.” I stepped gingerly over the paper-covered ground, trying to avoid doing any further damage. “Of course we’ll help clean up.” I looked to Len for confirmation, but he turned on his scuffed loafers and abandoned me in the middle of the mess.
I picked up a couple of magazines, looking at what would take me hours to go through and sort, then up at the irate man. “You pay for damages, too.” He huffed in his broken English and settled himself at a table in the shade to supervise my progress.
Tears blinded my eyes, my hands shook, and I lowered myself into the center of the mess. Shoes scuffed on the pavement, and my heart filled with hope. Had Len come back? But the toes of polished, black dress shoes appeared next to me, then Grayson knelt down and took the magazine from my hand. “Let me help you.” He picked up the ones closest to us.
“You don’t have to.”
“No I don’t.” He picked up an unsalvageable copy of Vogue and placed it off to the side. “But what kind of man would I be if I left you to do this alone?”
You’d be Len. “Why would you want to help me?” I wiped tears off my cheek.
Grayson reached out and swiped his finger over my upper lip, removing more tears. “Because even though you drive me to the point of insanity every moment I’m with you, I’m not going to run away when things get tough. Hell, if that was the case, I would have left you the moment you opened your mouth.”
A small laugh escaped my lips. I didn’t answer him because his small act of kindness had stolen my words. The man who I treated like shit, talked to like he was nothing more than an annoyance, and made every moment of our time together miserable, gave up his time to help me. The man who I had loved, who I changed my life for, walked away and left me in my time of need. At that moment Grayson Adler had moved up on my list of people I respected.