Running from Romeo

by Diane Mannino

  This book has special meaning to me because it once belonged to my mom. Every time I read it, I imagine her reading it. Sometimes I daydream of where she might have read it or what she was thinking when she read it. She did tell me that it was one of her favorite books when she gave it to me.

  We were sorting through boxes that we had stored in our attic. It was our annual Spring Cleaning and my mom decided we needed to have a garage sale. There were tons of brown boxes packed with old clothes, records, and books. By the end, we cleared out all but one bag of clothes and a few books. One of the books was “Jane Eyre.” It was in the middle of us clearing out junk when my mom looked at me for a moment, and then reached for a book at the bottom of a pile. When she turned back to me, she handed me “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Bronte. I don’t remember exactly what she said to me, I was only about eight. She did say it was her favorite book but I don’t remember anything else, just that and the vivid memory of her handing the book to me.

  Eighth grade was when I first read “Jane Eyre.” Although I understood most of the book, I do admit that I didn’t fully appreciate it. At the time I thought Edward Rochester was simply a rich, arrogant jerk. I loved Jane and her independence and strength but felt Edward wasn’t worthy of her. A few years later, I picked the book up again and reread it. It was then that I realized Edward was perfect for Jane and she was perfect for him. It is simply one of the best romances of all time.

  I’ve read the book countless times and certain pages I have folded over with remarks I’ve made in the margins. I flip the pages in the book and one of my favorite quotes from Jane catches my eye.

  “If people were always kind and obedient to those who are cruel and unjust, the wicked people would have it all their own way: they would never feel afraid, and so they would grow worse and worse. When we are struck at without a reason, we should strike back again very hard; I am sure we should – so hard as to teach the person who struck us never to do it again.”

  Jane is responding to Helen Burns, her best friend at school, who strongly believes in ‘turning the other cheek’ or ‘loving your enemies.’ Jane disagrees with her opinion because she basically says if you do ‘turn the other cheek’ the other person will just get away with their evil ways.

  Rolling back on my stomach, I stare up at the ceiling and reflect on Jane’s words. My lips curl up in a smile. Is it always best to be the better person and turn the other cheek? Most of the time, I believe this to be true. But there are some times, like my clash with Sebastian, where I’m not so sure.

  I’m lost in “Jane Eyre” and my thoughts when Bryn, rubbing her eyes and yawning, walks in my room.

  “You okay, Emilia?” She asks.

  “Fine.” I mumble. Totally engrossed in my reading.

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Not really.” I say.

  “Don’t you have a meet today?” “Yes. But I don’t have to be at the track until eight.” I say as I glance up from my book.

  “It’s seven forty-five.” She says as she glances at my clock.

  “Shit.” I jump off my bed. I quickly take off my shirt and sweatpants that I slept in and throw on my running bra, tank, and shorts. I’m stumbling in a hurried panic, while I gather my gym bag and running shoes.

  “What can I do to help? Can I drive you?” Bryn asks as she tries to help by pulling my hair up in a ponytail.

  “Thanks, Bryn. That would be great.”

  In minutes, we are in Bryn’s Cooper on our way to the track. Bryn drives fast as I tug on my socks and Nike running shoes. The car screeches as we pull into the lot next to the track and I see several heads turn in our direction.

  “Nice driving, Bryn.” I smile. “Thanks for getting me here on time.”

  “Sure thing. I’d come and cheer you on but I don’t think I’m properly attired.” She giggles.

  In our mad dash out of the house I didn’t even notice what Bryn was wearing. I glance down at her and see that she’s in a ruffled black camisole with matching hip-hugging boy-shorts with a ruffled bottom. She’s looking every bit the Victoria’s Secret model.

  I laugh. “Actually you would make a great distraction. Everyone would be staring at you and I would win hands down.”

  She giggles. “How about I come back and pick you up?”

  “Thanks. But I don’t know what time it’ll all be over so I’ll just see you back home.”

  “Okay. I’d wish you good luck but you don’t need it.” She winks. Ugh! I see her smile as she pulls away.

  It’s a cool, crisp day. The earlier fog has burned off and the sky is now cloudless, a bright blue. Our men and women’s cross country teams are competing in the Big West Championship against several other California universities, including Riverside, Davis, Long Beach, Irvine, Fullerton and Cal Poly. The course we are running starts at the track continuing on a course that is five kilometers.

  Coach Walker is relieved to see me when I jog up to him. He’s wearing a royal blue tracksuit and matching baseball hat with SBU emblazoned on the front.

  “Good to see you Emilia.” He smiles.

  “Hi, Coach.”

  “How are you feeling?” He asks.

  “Great. Don’t worry I won’t pass out on you today.” I tease.

  “You better not.” He hands me a paper bib that has my name and number on it and a couple safety pins so I can fasten it on the front of my tank. “Go on and stretch.”

  I walk over to where our women’s team is stretching. I’m in the middle of my leg lunges when I see Sebastian out of the corner of my eye. Focusing on my stretching and the race ahead, I block him out of my mind.

  The announcer over the sound system calls the women’s teams to the starting line. In cross-country we don’t all line up in a straight line, we are all in one giant pack. Fifty women are competing, the top runners from each school. There are hundreds of people, from SBU and the other colleges, on the sides who have gathered to watch.

  The gun goes off and we are like horses out of the gate, all trying to maneuver our way to the front of the herd. Despite my lack of sleep, I feel great, really great. I run and I close out the world around me. This is just what I need to free my mind. Everything around me is flying past, including my what ifs and worries.

  I don’t know how many girls I’ve passed and I don’t know how many are ahead of me. I’m so focused, my legs in constant motion. My heart is pounding against my chest and my feet are pounding against the ground.

  In the distance I see the finish line and that’s when I realize there is no one in front of me. I cross the line and I am back to reality. My ears ring with loud, enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.

  “Emilia! Congratulations! Awesome job!” Coach Walker rejoices and affectionately pats me on the back.

  “Thanks, Coach.” I smile.

  I wait with Coach and cheer the other girls on as they come across the finish line. When the women’s team is finished, we wait and cheer on the boy’s cross-country teams. Once the men finish, we gather beneath a tent and the top three runners are given trophies. The colleges are also recognized for their overall results. The men’s SBU team took third place, while the women come in first. It was a day beyond Coach Walker’s greatest expectations.

  Walking away from the track and the festivities, I feel amazing, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. That’s when I spot Logan. He is casually leaning against his car when I see him. He is wearing softly faded jeans and a white t-shirt. When I notice him he is intensely watching me and I see him smile. He is quite a sight and I take a deep breath. I use all my willpower in an effort not to go toward him.

  He quickly walks to catch up with me. “Congratulations.” He smiles. “You were amazing.”

  “Thanks.” I say dryly.

  “I sent you an email.” He sounds annoyed. Well, that makes two of us.

  “I know.” I continue to walk with my head forward. I don’t look at him because I know that will make me lose my train
of thought.

  “So you are ignoring me?” He sounds confused.

  “Maybe.” I answer truthfully because I guess I am but I just don’t really know why I’m ignoring him.

  “Why?”

  “Why don’t you ask Sebastian?” I hiss and I start to walk faster trying to put an end to the conversation.

  Logan jumps in front of me and with both his hands grabs my arms making me stop in my tracks.

  “Stop. I don’t know what’s going on. Let’s talk.” He pleads.

  “I really don’t want to talk. Why don’t you email me and I’ll get back to you.” I mutter because now that he’s standing in front of me and I’m looking in his eyes I start to lose control.

  “Come on, Emilia. Please let’s go somewhere and talk.” He presses his forehead against mine and looks deep into my eyes.

  “Where do you want to go?” I breathe.

  He softly kisses my forehead and with my hand in his, takes me towards his car. After he opens the passenger door, I slide into the leather seat. He gracefully moves around the car and climbs in beside me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “A little. You?” I ask.

  He starts the engine. “Starved.” He smiles and then adds, “I’m hungry for a lot of things.” He smirks. “But I suppose you need to eat and we should celebrate your first place finish.”

  “Would you mind if we stop by my place so I can change?” I say as I glance down at my sweaty running attire.

  “Sure.”

  As we pull out of the parking lot, I giggle at my failure to ignore Logan.

  “What’s so funny?” He asks.

  “I was trying to give you the silent treatment.”

  “I’m glad you aren’t anymore. I thought we agreed to try. We need to be honest with each other.” He glances at me and then quickly switches his attention to the road ahead.

  When we get to the house I’m somewhat relieved to find that Bryn isn’t home. I have mixed feelings. I’m glad she’s not here because I’m not in the mood for her interrogation. But I also wish she was here because now that Logan and I are and we are alone I am struck with unbearable shyness.

  “Um. Well, help yourself to a drink or whatever is in the fridge. I’ll just be a minute.” I say as I hurry up the stairs.

  “There’s no hurry. Take your time.” He smiles.

  When I get into my bedroom I quickly grab a pair of fresh panties, a bra, jeans, and a heather grey sweater. I stumble into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Moments later, I’m showered and dressed with my damp hair pulled back in a ponytail. I head back into my bedroom and I’m struck speechless. Logan is sitting on my bed, looking at my copy of Jane Eyre. My bed is unmade and I must have left the book sitting on it in my mad rush earlier this morning.

  “You must really like Jane Eyre.” He smiles at the obviously well loved book.

  “Yes. It’s one of my favorite books.”

  “Do you like Edward Rochester or do you find him to be too rich and arrogant?” His lips curl up into that sexy smile.

  I feel myself blush because that’s exactly what I thought of him when I first read the book.

  “I like him.” I smile.

  “So you think he is right for Jane?” He asks.

  “Do you like the book?” I ask, embarrassed. I lean my back against the wall.

  “Very much. But you didn’t answer my question.” He teases.

  “I didn’t realize you were such a romantic.” I smile.

  “I’m a lot of things that you are unaware of.” His voice is husky. “So?”

  “So?” I tease.

  “Do you think Edward is right for Jane?” His voice is low and sexy.

  “Yes.” I murmur.

  “Yes. Me too.” He smiles. “Your hair is wet. Did you want to dry it before we go? I don’t mind waiting.”

  “No. I’m ready.” I just want to get out of here, quickly.

  “Are you nervous having me in your bedroom?” How does he do that? It’s like he can read my mind.

  I nod. “A bit.”

  I follow his eyes as they take in my room. Besides my brown iron bed most of my room is cream. My bedding and a shaggy small area rug that rests on the hardwood floors are cream. Even the small dresser and nightstand are in a distressed cream finish. A few small picture frames sit on my nightstand. One catches his eye and he picks it up.

  “Is this your mom?” He asks as he gazes at the black and white photo in an antique metal frame.

  “Yes. It was taken when she was about my age.”

  “You look like her. You both have the same beautiful skin and hair.” He smiles.

  He carefully places the photo down and then picks up another photo, one of my dad and I taken this past summer on Venice Beach. We are standing side by side with our arms around each other.

  “Your dad?” He asks.

  “Yes.” I smile.

  “You have his eyes.” He then returns it to my nightstand. “How did your parents meet?”

  “They were high school sweethearts. Love at first sight. My mom got pregnant her senior year and then they married. They were madly in love. The perfect happily ever after until…” I feel a lump in my throat.

  He strolls towards me and wraps me in his arms. I blink back the tears that are welling in my eyes. I snuggle into his arms as he softly breathes in my hair.

  We stand like that for a while and then he sighs. He softly says, “I’m sorry. It isn’t fair.”

  I glance up at him. “Sorry.” I murmur.

  “What are you sorry for?” He whispers.

  “For being mad at you for no real reason.”

  “Oh, yes. We still need to talk.”

  We start to head downstairs when Logan says, “I forgot something.” He turns away from me.

  “Be right back.” He quickly runs back up the steps.

  When he returns I’m waiting by the front door.

  “I know a great place on the beach. We’ll go there.” He softly presses his lips against mine and takes my hand in his.

  Shoreline Beach Café is a white stucco restaurant with a red-tiled roof. The café is small and cramped but it’s the location that makes it the ideal place to eat, right on Santa Barbara’s Ledbetter Beach. The scattered tables and wicker chairs are on the sand, surrounded by blue umbrellas and shady palm trees.

  “I’ve only been here for breakfast but I’ve heard their fish tacos are the best in town.” He smiles as we both throw off our flip-flops and walk in the sand to a table.

  The waitress is a cute blonde with a pixie cut. She’s looking down at a pad of paper in her hand when she looks up at Logan. Obviously she finds him attractive because she blushes and immediately looks back down at her order pad.

  “So what can I get you two?” She quickly looks up and then down. Boy, I can see why he’s never had to pursue anyone!

  “I’ll have a Corona. Emilia?” He says.

  “That sounds good. I’ll have the same.” I smile.

  The waitress scurries off to get our drinks. I giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” He asks.

  “I can see why you’ve never had to pursue a woman. One look from you and they do just swoon.”

  He laughs. “So I thought we were going to talk?”

  “Aren’t we?” I tease. Feeling a bit foolish for letting Sebastian get the best of me, I now prefer to drop the subject.

  He frowns. “I want to know why you were giving me or trying to give me the silent treatment. You said you got my email so where were you last night?”

  “I was there and I saw Sebastian.” I say.

  “Okay. So now we’re getting somewhere. I don’t know how I missed you. I came in shortly after Sebastian got there. I wonder why he didn’t say anything to me about seeing you?” His brows furrow.

  The waitress arrives with our two Coronas and a sliced lime stuck in the top of each of the bottles. We both push our limes into the bottles.

 
Logan holds out his bottle of beer towards me and says, “To your victory.”

  “Thanks.” I smile. We both take a quick sip.

  “I told you Sebastian loathes me.” I say.

  “There’s that word again. He does not loathe you.” He sounds exasperated.

  “Well, he thinks I’m not good enough for you.” I snort.

  “Is that what he said?” He sounds irritated.

  “He asked what I was doing with you and I told him it wasn’t any of his business.”

  “That’s true. It isn’t his business.” He shrugs.

  “Then he called me a poor, frigid bitch.” I say in a matter of fact tone.

  Logan is mid-sip and nearly spews out his beer. “What?” He asks astonished.

  “He thinks I’m after your money.” I roll my eyes. “And he also said you were only interested in fucking me.”

  The waitress returns to take our order. We are staring at each other. Noticing the awkward tension, she asks, “You want me to give you a few more minutes?”

  “No. We’ll have some chips and salsa and I’ll have the fish tacos.” His eyes still burning into mine.

  “I’ll have the fish tacos too.” I say as I look away from Logan’s intense gaze and up at the waitress. She quickly scurries off.

  “Is that what you think?” He asks.

  “Fish tacos sound good.” I know he’s not talking about the food.

  “You know very well what I’m referring to.” He smirks.

  “Honestly?” I ask.

  “That would be nice.”

  “Maybe.” I shrug.

  “You don’t think very highly of me, do you?” His voice has an edge to it.

  “It’s not that. It’s just, this is all new to me.”

  “It’s new to me too.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not new to you.”

  He frowns for a moment and then says, “I told you. You are the first woman that I’ve pursued. I’ve just had meaningless sex.”

  “With how many?” I blurt out.

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve kept count.”