Just as our lips met for a second time, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I wanted to chuck it across the room and watch it smash into a million pieces.
"What was that?" Noah asked, pulling away. I have a special phone for the hearing impaired that buzzes pretty violently so you’re sure to catch every single call, text, and alert. As it began to buzz a second time, I knew it was an incoming call.
"Forget it, it's just the phone." I leaned forward again, shoving one hand into my pocket to end the incessant buzzing, and very clearly indicated my intentions.
"But it could be Claire," Noah said in the midst of the siege I was laying on his lips. I pulled away, frowning at him. "What if she needs you to go pick her up?"
"Why are you so worried about Claire?" I snapped. Okay, maybe my sister was a hot button with me when it came to men. I can’t imagine why… Noah clearly couldn’t understand it either and gave me a critical eyebrow in response. "Fine, fine. I'll answer it."
I spun away from him and got to my feet. A mistake, since my knees had been sufficiently weakened by a certain trainer I know. I flipped open that phone, trying not to stumble, and answered Claire's call. It wasn't a broken ankle, just really sprained, and she'd be out of commission for three weeks, the doctors said.
"So stay with me, okay?"
"What? Jen, I can't impose on you like that..." she tried, pointlessly, to argue.
"You live on the fifth floor of a building with an unreliable elevator. Have Tom get some of your stuff together and bring you to Mom’s—uh, my—place. No arguing." I snapped the phone shut on her and her horrible timing and turned back to Noah. He was just lounging there on the bench, trying to stay occupied and not listen in on my call. Even so, he looked up just as my eyes found their way to him. When they connected across the space between us, the spark was already fading.
"Go take care of Claire," he said kindly, rising to his feet. As he walked to me, I could feel my temperature rising, the blood vessels swelling in my reddening cheeks. So of course, I had to make it awkward.
"Yeah... I should go, I guess," I said, stiffening as he embraced me. It was a halfhearted effort on his part anyway. The moment was gone. Evaporated. I straightened, pulling back from Noah's taut form. "I have to...uh... let her in. To...the... thing."
"Your apartment?" He raised an eyebrow at my lameness but didn't further the issue. Instead, he leaned down for one last quick and gentle kiss, much shorter and with much less passion attached to it. This kiss served as an effective punctuation mark on whatever incredible sentence we had been speaking to each other. Before Claire called, anyway.
"I'll see you tomorrow, same time?" he asked, shifting easily back to Trainer Noah as though he hadn't just made me see stars with the power of his mouth.
I nodded. "I guess it's just me and you, until Claire's back on her feet." I was still seeing those stars, so it was impressive that I could string so many words together.
"There are worse things," he smirked, handing me my gym bag. I slung it over my shoulder and started backing away toward the door. I gave him a two-fingered wave and pushed my way through the door. He waved back, his eyes never breaking away from mine, not until after I had closed the door behind myself.
Shaken, confused, and extremely turned on, I made myself drive straight home without making an emergency ice cream detour. Claire would smell the sprinkles on my breath from a mile away. She might also, I realized, smell the distinctive scent of lies the moment I walked in the door. So instead of thinking about food, I concentrated on how in the hell I was going to act normal around my sister. With her living in my apartment, my life could get very difficult if I let it. No way was I letting her in on what had just happened, not when she was still fuming about Sean.
I tried to wipe away all traces of the post-Noah glow, and stopped for an iced coffee instead of ice cream. If I couldn't take a cold shower when I got home, I could at least drink something to shake out all that crazy hot attraction from my system.
At least until I saw him in the gym the next day, that is.
****
Back at my apartment, Claire and I were both mended up and working on our individual healing processes. Granted, I was much better off than she was, seeing as some antiseptic and a bandage had sorted me out. Three weeks would be a long time to fly solo at the gym, but after the day’s activities, I was feeling good about my ability to make it on my own. Not to mention, looking forward to all the “private” sessions.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying here for a little while?” Claire asked me again, as I placed her dinner on the TV tray in front of her. She was stretched out on my couch, icing her ankle, and I had actually cooked something that was both nutritious and delicious. “If I’m going to be in the way…”
“In the way of what?” I tried not to laugh too hard. Did she think I had a secret nightlife I’d never mentioned before? “I offered to let you stay here, remember? Tomorrow, I’ll go get some more of your stuff and move it over here. But tonight, just eat your dinner like a good girl, okay?”
She nodded, silently, and picked up her fork. “Is this tofu, Jen? It is! Will wonders never cease?”
So my sister had now become my roommate, during the very week that I’d lied about having a roommate who didn’t exist… but had a Facebook profile. I don’t know what was happening in my head to convince me it was a good idea at the time, but there I was. Living a lie.
“So aside from the obvious male detour, how is the rest of the project going, Jen? What have your findings been so far?” I knew she wasn’t trying to mock me, but the way Claire talked about my research sometimes made me seem a little ridiculous. Like I was goofing around in the backyard with a bottle of Diet Coke and some Mentos.
“Pretty much what I expected,” I shrugged, content to keep things as abbreviated as possible on the topic, just in case she started getting any ideas about certain individuals I might have run into on Boston Common that day. It was bad enough that I was judging myself; I didn’t need Claire jumping on board as well. “Guys like the hot chick, normal girls like the normal-looking girl.”
“I enjoy that you classify yourself as ‘normal-looking.’ “
“Am I weird-looking?”
“No, of course not. It was just a funny thing to say.”
“Yeah… hilarious,” I rolled my eyes at her. “Anyway, the only thing that amazes me about this experience so far is how incredibly shallow guys can be. You wouldn’t believe how many of them just send me message after message because they think I have big boobs and an easy button on the middle of my forehead.”
“I’m pretty sure if there was a big, red button in the middle of your forehead, you wouldn’t be getting any dates.”
“Yeah, but an easy button, Claire? That’s gold to these guys.”
She sighed deeply and settled into the cushions of my couch. For a few moments, we just sat together and ate in silence like we used to when we were kids. Back then, I would wait for her to talk first, always taking the lead from my older sister. Today, I decided to be brave and shift us to uncertain territory.
“How are things with Tom? Any better?” I’d seen the way they left and drawn my own conclusions, but I was eager to learn her feelings were on the matter. Besides, what happened during and after that trip to the hospital anyway?
“Well, it’s hard to say. We were a little distracted by the potentially broken joint, you know.”
“No reason to be snippy,” I pointed a fork at her, then ate the tofu square off of it. This stuff was definitely an acquired taste, which I had just barely begun to acquire. If only I could fry it in butter or something… “I am merely curious about whether you two had a chance to talk or to, ahem, talk things out at all. I mean, he carried you to the car like you were a little girl. It was freaking adorable.”
“And kind of sexy,” she grinned, blushing.
“Noah said he usually just calls the ambulance when stuff like that happens. But you got first class
escort service, Claire. That’s got to mean something, doesn’t it?”
“I guess…” Claire thought for a minute, chewing slowly. “Did Noah really say that?”
I nodded, staring at her. I watched her processing the information, each emotion passing slowly behind her eyes. She really did care about Tom—although Lord knows what she saw in him—but I could see it all over her face. Tom was more than just another guy, another plaything to Claire. She’d been beating men away with a stick since long before Olivia had been deleting online messages from them and yet, Tom had done something right to capture her jaded heart.
Whether or not Tom wanted to capture it remained to be seen. I had my thoughts on the subject, but it wasn’t my place to share them with Claire. Not now; not given how little I knew about him, or how little I’d observed the two of them together as anything more than trainer and patron. And there hadn’t been even a peep from him in Olivia’s message box in weeks, so I prayed that was over and done with.
“I finally asked him to dinner… so I guess that’s something.” Claire said it to the open space in my living room, as though this were an afterthought to an ended conversation. I jumped at this tidbit right away.
“That’s great! What did he say? Are you going out soon? Where?” Some people have told me that I have a tendency to be overly eager at times.
“He said he’d look at his schedule.” Her face fell as she said the words, again to the empty space in the living room. Depending on the guy, and his lifestyle in general, this could be a good or a bad statement. Time would tell with Tom.
But I swore to myself then that if he did anything to hurt my sister—anything at all—I’d rip his stupid muscles apart, one by one. With my bare hands. Because that’s what sisters are for.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It didn’t take very long at all for Sean to take advantage of the open door I’d left him on Boston Common. By the following morning, there was a lengthy note sitting in Olivia’s message inbox and I had absolutely no idea what to do with it. I printed it out and brought it to class with me, hoping to have a little time to read through the three pages during a boring lecture or two.
It was him pouring his heart out, basically, and I was completely and utterly at a loss.
Dear Olivia -
It started off innocently and normally enough, but things went quickly downhill.
I ran into your roommate on Boston Common yesterday and it reminded me how disappointed I was that you couldn’t stay very long at the party this weekend. I was really hoping to take some time to get reacquainted.
Anyway, I’ve been enjoying having a pen pal of sorts on the internet and I’ve missed it in these past few days. I hope that you find this note when you’re back safe and sound from your modeling shoot. Would it be too forward of me to ask for pictures from some of your shoots? I’d love to see some of your work for myself, I bet they’re all gorgeous. They’d have to be if they’re of you!
Of course, if you’d prefer to meet me somewhere in person, that would be even better. You can bring your roommate along with you, if you like. She seems nice enough, so I wouldn’t mind having her around if that would make you more comfortable.
I just can’t stop thinking about you lately, and I don’t want to miss out on a chance to find a real connection with you. I understand you’re busy, so I am willing to wait for you and work around whatever you have going on. I just want the chance to talk.
Yours,
Sean
I slid the printout into my notebook and tapped my fingers thoughtlessly through the rest of Dr. Chase’s lecture. I had no idea what she was talking about. As my eyes wandered around the classroom, Lyla caught my attention. We’d been working as study partners all semester, and getting to know one another a little bit better, but we weren’t exactly friends. She mouthed something about getting a coffee together after class and I nodded. I guess it couldn’t hurt to talk to someone other than Claire for a change.
So we met up in the school’s coffee house, stretching out onto a pair of leather love seats positioned conveniently in front of the fireplace. I let myself unwind a little as I passed Sean’s message to Lyla and let her read. I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see her reactions, which were no doubt animated at the very least.
“What the hell are you supposed to do with this bullshit?” She all but shrieked when she finished reading. “This is super sappy, Jen. I don’t even know what to make of it.”
“I think he’s got it pretty bad for a fictional character,” I shrugged. “I don’t even know how that happened. We’ve just been talking on Facebook, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but about what?” Lyla did little to hide the accusatory tone from her question.
“We’re not having chat sex or anything, for crying out loud. We just talk about stuff… I let him talk about his family, work, his goals, that kind of stuff. He just tells me—er, Olivia—things. And I answer him.”
“See, that’s your problem,” said Lyla, handing the page back to me. “Hot girls don’t let guys just talk and talk like that.”
“They don’t?”
She sighed deeply, cupping her hand around her forehead. “No offense, but for someone mastering in sociology, you’ve got no clue how basic social interactions work.”
Lyla had a point. I could analyze entire cultures across oceans, centuries, and foreign languages. But when it came to how the real world operated, I was at a total loss.
“Yes, this is becoming more and more evident with every passing day,” I said dejectedly. “So how do I get myself out of this?”
“Well, if you’re determined to try to convince this guy that you’re a better catch than Olivia…” Her voice dropped off, leaving her opinions on the matter fairly evident. “And Claire won’t help you turn Olivia into a super bitch diva with a cold, cold heart, then I guess you just have one option.”
“Which is?” I leaned forward, nearly spilling my coffee down the front of my new shirt.
“Keep Olivia out of the way, friend him yourself, and fill the void that Olivia’s absence leaves. And if worse comes to worse, you can play Olivia online as an evil demon whore,” she finished matter-of-factly. Then her eyes darkened and she squinted at me. “But I think you should just forget about him altogether. What’s so special about this particular guy anyway?”
I hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer. Had my friendship with Lyla evolved to a place where we could share heartbreak stories and secret past shames? Again, since I was so clueless about real social interaction, I couldn’t say for sure. I had to give her something, though, at the very least.
“When we were in school, I had the biggest crush on him. I used to take the same classes as him and sit way in the back, just waiting for that one magical day that he would turn around and notice me sitting there. I had this fantasy that he would get tired of the popular girls one day and find me waiting there. I’d been there all along—just a normal girl who would love him like no one else could. All I wanted was for him to notice me. I was obsessed.”
“Well that’s not creepy at all…”
“It’s not when you’re thirteen. And remember, we didn’t have the internet yet, so my stalking stayed in the classroom. I knew almost nothing about him outside of the persona he had.”
“And you still don’t,” she said pointedly. I stared at her while she took a sip of coffee, nonplussed by my frustration. “I’m just saying…”
“But he was Sean O’Dwyer and he was handsome and smart and popular and athletic. He had all of these things, but no one who really loved him for who he was inside. I knew who he was, better than anyone else.”
“How?”
“I found his journal one day, underneath his desk in geometry class. He didn’t see it fall out of his bag, but I did, and I grabbed it on my way by. At first, I tried chasing him down the hallway to give it back to him. I thought it was finally my chance to talk to him… but he didn’t hear me. All day, I couldn’t
get his attention and he didn’t even know the notebook was missing. So, I… I took it home.”
“And you read it?” Lyla nearly shouted, mocking me. “Jennifer Smith! That’s dishonest.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” I offered with a shrug. “But after I read it, cover to cover, I couldn’t help but fall in love with him. He was so sensitive and so honest in that journal. There were poems and drawings. And he talked a lot about being lonely and how people saw him for what he seemed, not what he was. I knew I was better than that, that I could see Sean for himself. To know that he wanted that from someone, it really moved me…”
“Oh my God, are you gonna cry?” Lyla sounded shocked, but offered me a travel pack of Kleenex from her handbag all the same. I waved them away, forcing a smile onto my face to fight off my sentimental tears.
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