She’s talking to one of the guys in her group, laughing at something he said when she looks in my direction and our eyes lock. The smile on her face slips as her gaze penetrates straight through me. I’ve never felt more bare in my life. I know that’s ridiculous, since she’s halfway across the room, but there’s something about her unwavering gaze that has me rooted to my spot. Squinting my eyes ever so slightly, I try to figure out where I’ve seen her before. There’s something about her that seems vaguely familiar, but I’m sure if I met someone that striking, I would have definitely remembered. Plus, I know just about everyone in this small town. She must be a transplant; someone who’s not from here. All too quickly, she breaks eye contact and looks down at the floor before giving her attention back to the guy she was talking to.
“Hello, earth to Landon.” Elliot’s waving his hand in my face trying to regain my attention.
“Uh, sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked how the knee was doing. What were you fixated on?” He cranes his neck looking around the bar. I glance back in the direction where the auburn beauty was standing and she’s gone. I feel a tinge of disappointment and I’m not even sure why. I know nothing about the girl, but for some reason I wanted to know her. I know I sound crazy, but she was drawing me in and if our eyes had stayed locked for one more second, there’s no doubt in my mind I would’ve gotten up and stolen her away from her companions.
“I wasn’t fixated on anything, just lost in thought, I guess.” I’m trying to hide the fact that I was openly gawking at a woman in the bar. “The knee feels fine, thanks for asking.”
After that, I don’t see her again. Every now and then I’d take a quick look around Dale’s hoping to catch one more glimpse of her so I could talk to her, but she’s just disappeared. Like she never even existed and she was a figment of my imagination. Soon enough, the bartenders announce its last call, and Elliot and I head out.
God, I’m such a juvenile. I don’t know what my problem is, but I had to get out of that bar. I’m not comfortable having that kind of attention on me. My face felt flushed from such scrutiny, so I didn’t have much of a problem convincing my friends that I suddenly felt ill. My best friend, Layla, said she’d ride home with me, but she clearly wasn’t buying my excuse.
“Okay, spill,” she demands from the passenger seat.
I try to play stupid, hoping she’ll drop it. “What do you mean?” I don’t take my eyes off the road as I continue driving.
“You are not sick and I can tell you’re keeping something from me. I want to know what it is.”
“It’s really not a big deal. I just didn’t feel like being there anymore.” I shrug in an effort to appear nonchalant. Layla doesn’t say anything in response, but I can feel her staring a hole in the side of my face the whole way home.
Once we pull up to my driveway, Layla hops out of the car and waits for me at the top of the porch steps. I’m taking my time because I know the interrogation is far from over and will likely start up again as soon as we get in the house.
The house is bathed in darkness when we walk in. I flip on a light and turn to hang my keys on the hook by the door, but I stop when I see the expression on Layla’s face. Her hands are on her hips and one eyebrow is raised. I walk over to the couch and fall into the cushions with a sigh and resign to my fate.
“Fine. I saw someone there that I haven’t seen in a while. That’s all. Are you happy?” I admit to her. She walks around the couch and sits next to me.
“Not yet, but I’m sure you’re about to make me happy. Who was it? Your face was all flushed like someone whispered in your ear that they were going to rip your panties off. With their teeth.”
Her comment makes me blush all over again, as images of Landon doing that flash through my mind. Trying to compose myself and redirect my thoughts, “Just some guy from high school.” I’m trying to be as vague as possible in hopes that she’ll let it go. As soon as she finds out who it was, there will be no end to her questions.
Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “What’s his name? Do I know him?”
The whole world knows him. “No, you’ve never met him. He left right after high school.” Layla didn’t go to high school with me, which is probably why I love her so much. High school was hell for me and I’m glad she wasn’t associated with that time in my life. She moved here the fall after I graduated. She was the new city girl moving out to the country with her parents for a quieter life. Even though she was 18 at the time, her parents didn’t feel comfortable leaving her in the city on her own. She moved here with them before getting a place of her own and took online college courses so she could stay close by. She’ll be graduating with her bachelor’s degree next year.
“You’re being purposefully evasive. What gives?” Shit. She knows me too well.
“His name is Landon.” I pick up the remote to the TV and turn it on, hoping she’ll take the hint that I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m also hoping she won’t put two and two together and figure out that I’m talking about Landon Stone.
The wheels are clearly spinning in her head as she mulls over what little information I’ve given her. Then, all at once, I can literally see the light bulb flash above her head as she starts sorting out all my hints.
“Wait, you wouldn’t happen to be talking about Landon Stone, would you?” She draws the sentence out real slowly.
“I think that’s his last name.” Again, trying not to make a big deal out of this, but I know she’s going to squeal in 3…2…1…
“Autumn! Landon Stone was in that bar and you didn’t tell me?! What the hell? I thought we were friends! I would give my right ovary for just a little taste of that!”
“It’s really not a big deal, Layla.” I roll of my eyes to emphasize my words, which are all lies. My body’s reaction begs to differ and is saying that it is a big deal. I’m still trying to make sense of it. It must be an innate reaction to a very attractive guy.
“But why would that make you high tail it out of there?” After she pauses, she places her hand on top of mine and says more seriously, “Was he one of the guys that was mean to you back then?”
Having her mention the constant harassment I received at the hands of my classmates has me spacing out for a second, thinking about how cruel people can truly be. One day my sophomore year, I opened my locker and a bucket of slop fell out and landed all over me before splattering across the floor. A note left in my locker said, “Here’s some slop, Porky.” The pungent smell almost made me vomit. My clothes were drenched in the disgusting soupy mess, and my books were all ruined, since they were covered in it too. Everyone in the hall stopped and laughed. Teachers were trying to herd students back into their classrooms, and I remember no one asked if I was okay or helped me. I didn’t cry though; I never did. I refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply their words and actions cut me.
“No, Landon wasn’t one of the kids that was mean to me.” My voice is raw with emotion as the memory of that awful day takes over my mind. Landon may not have actually noticed me in high school, but on the rare occasions we did cross paths, he was polite. He didn’t say hello or go out of his way to make conversation, but he left me alone and didn’t join the other kids. Because of that, he was probably the nicest person to me at school, and that fact is truly depressing, since he hardly knew I existed.
“Then what’s the problem?” I just shrug because I’m not even sure what my deal is. I just saw him staring at me like he could eat me and ran as soon as he wasn’t paying attention. Suddenly, Layla gasps and points a finger at my accusatorily. “You liked him, didn’t you?”
I shift a little on the couch. “Oh come on, Lay, the whole school liked him. He was popular and the star football player. There wasn’t a person at our school that didn’t like him.”
“Don’t give me that. You totally crushed on him back then.” With the way she’s smiling at me, you’d think I’d become a nun since high school and t
he concept of me liking a boy was some sort of foreign concept.
“Okay, I might have liked him a little.” She starts to say something, probably another damn question, when I hold up my hand to halt her. “And to answer your other question, I don’t know why I freaked out and left. He was looking at, no, watching me, and I just sort of panicked. Guys like that don’t look at girls like me, and if he found out who I really was, all he’d see is the fatty from high school that his gorgeous girlfriend always picked on. Can we drop it now?”
“You are seriously delusional if you think you’re not hot stuff and that guys don’t notice you.” I start to tell her to shut up when she cuts me off, “But, I’ll drop it. For now.” She gives me a little wink.
“Enough about the made up love life you’ve created for me, tell me what’s new with you. Still with that Matt guy?”
She lets out a sigh. “No. He’s not the one.” She sounds so melancholy and it makes me feel like a bitch that I have to hold back my snicker. I swear, Layla thinks everyone is the one. We’re total opposites in that I hardly ever date, and she dates anything with two legs and a dick. Most of her relationships never make it past a month, but I keep holding out hope that she’ll quit bouncing around from guy to guy. She puts up a good front, but I know she puts her whole heart into every relationship, platonic or otherwise. It has got to be draining to put forth that much effort only for it not to work out. That’s another reason I avoid men and dating. I’ve lived through enough heartache in my life; I don’t need to add more to it.
Putting my hand on her knee, I give her a squeeze for comfort. “I’m sorry, Lay. Maybe the next one. Or, you could take a break from guys and just do you for a while. Go on a path of self discovery.” I hold my arms out wide. “Explore the world.”
She starts laughing and I join in, glad that she doesn’t look so sad anymore. “Pssh, who has time for that? I need to find me a nice, good looking man soon or I’m going to end up an old maid.”
Shaking my head at her, I say, “If you say so.” She waves my sarcastic comment off and reaches for the remote before turning the TV on.
We watch an episode of our favorite show and then she walks the two houses down to her place. Lying in bed, I let the silence of my house surround me. I used to sleep to music to drown out the echoes of that day’s torment when I was younger, but I’ve since healed. I’m not that girl anymore, and I’ll be damned if I give those assholes any more thought than necessary. Their taunts and cruel jokes consumed my adolescence; I won’t let them consume my adulthood too.
***
One week has gone by since I saw Landon at the bar. I’m concentrating on some delicate piping for a wedding cake, completely in my zone. This is why I fell in love with cake decorating to begin with. All outside thoughts vanished and it was just me and my work. I loved watching something that starts out so plain and ordinary blossom into this extravagant, gorgeous piece of art that would be displayed as a centerpiece to an event. But my focus is broken when a tornado named Brenda comes whirling through the front door.
Out of breath she says, “I finally got some help for the deliveries today.”
“Oh, that’s great news!” The delivery boy she had working here just up and quit last week. No two-week notice. No phone call saying he wouldn’t be coming in.
Nothing.
I swear, kids these days are so irresponsible.
“Yes it is. He should be here shortly to start the morning deliveries,” she smiles.
“Sounds good.” I continue working on the piping.
About thirty minutes later, the little bell above the front door alerts me that it’s been opened. Ashley, the girl who works the front of the bakery, yells out, “Brenda, your new delivery guy is here!” Brenda comes scurrying out of her corner office and heads to the front while I continue adding more detail on the cake. As I’m finishing up the last swirl, the doors swing open. I look up and I know my mouth is hanging wide open.
I can’t believe who is standing there. Landon-freaking-Stone.
A slow, smoldering smirk spreads across his face and I am momentarily unable to speak. His smile grows wider with each second that passes, while I remain mute, like he knows the effect he’s having on me.
“Landon, this is Autumn, my very talented decorator. Autumn, this is my son, Landon, who will be running deliveries for me while I look for a replacement.” Brenda’s voice snaps me from my mute paralysis.
“N-nice to meet you,” I stutter while holding my hand out to him. He shakes it with a firm, manly grip and I almost sigh from the contact. Okay, maybe I don’t almost sigh, but his touch is making me blush like a teenage virgin and I’m powerless to stop it. And against my pale skin, the tiniest flush to my skin is very noticeable. Damn my traitorous body and its response to him.
Landon chuckles softly before releasing my hand. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
Brenda starts to give out instructions, but I don’t hear a word of it. I’m frozen under his penetrating gaze and I’m pretty sure my brain is on the fritz, unable to compute anything else other than his piercing hazel eyes.
“So,” he starts, “I’m pretty sure I saw you at Dale’s about a week ago.” He’s leaning against my work station on his elbow, his close proximity making it hard to breathe. I blink several times before replying.
“I th-think I was there about a week ago. Why do you ask?”
“No reason in particular. I wanted to talk to you, but you vanished into thin air suddenly.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of someone else. I don’t remember you being there.” I lie, avoiding eye contact. I can’t think when I stare into his eyes. And I’m not really sure why I’m lying like I don’t remember seeing him there. He’s really all I’ve thought about since I ran out of the bar.
“Oh, you remember. You were staring right at me. Plus, I doubt there’s another woman in this town that has such stunning red hair and flawless porcelain skin, so I’m positive it wasn’t someone else.”
And cue the blushing. Holy shit. Landon Stone just complemented me.
Landon gives a deep, sexy chuckle, which I’m assuming is because my face is probably the color of my hair at this point. “You’re cute when you blush, you know that?” I just look down and bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling. I don’t want him to know how much his words affect me. “I can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere, though. Have you always lived here?” he asks.
“That’s because you two went to high school together,” Brenda says as she reenters the room.
My stomach drops to the pit of my stomach as soon as Brenda mentions us going to high school together. Now, instead of the girl he sees in front of him, he’s going to see the girl that was called Porky and teased incessantly.
Landon’s eyebrows draw together like he’s going through a mental yearbook, trying to figure out who I am. “Did we graduate the same year?” he asks.
Trying to hide my face behind the cake, I reply, “Yep.”
“Autumn…Autumn…” he says softly. “What’s your last name?”
“McCray.”
I see the moment realization hits his face and I’m almost ashamed. I really hate those years of my life and wish more than anything I could erase them. Any chance I had at appearing attractive to this sex God just went out the window as soon as he figured out that I was the girl the kids made a sign for at the cafeteria saying “Porky Xing” with my picture attached. The thing I dread almost as much as him associating me with all that shit is the look of sympathy I’m sure will cross his features. Damn, I really want to run out of here right now.
I have two words.
Hot. Damn.
This is Autumn McCray? She turned into a total knockout! She’s refusing to meet my eyes like she’s embarrassed or something. Looking at her, and believe me, I got a good look at her, she has nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Holy shit. I would’ve never recognized you. You look fantastic, nothing like I remem
ber you from high school,” I tell her in amazement.
Still focusing on her cake, she shrugs and says, “Yeah, well some of us change over the years.” I start to say something, but she cuts me off. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if we didn’t take a little trip down memory lane, okay? My memories aren’t as bright as yours,” she mumbles the last part, stands up and leaves the room.
What the hell was that all about? I look over at my mom and she gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Do you really remember Autumn in high school?” she asks me gently.
“Yeah. She was really smart and kind of quiet. Always kept to herself. Why?”
“Let’s just say, what you remember and the way high school actually was for her are two totally different things. She started working for me at that time, and she was one of the saddest girls I had ever seen. It took quite a while to break her from her shell.”
“I know she was slightly awkward, but what would make her so upset?” I wonder.
My mom sighs, “Landon, high school was hell for her. She was constantly bullied for the way she looked and the way she dressed. Kids would pull vicious pranks on her and call her all kinds of horrible names. She wouldn’t talk about it for the longest time. It wasn’t until she started losing the weight and gained some confidence before she confided in me what she had gone through.”
“Do you think that’s why she stormed out of here when I emphasized how good she looks now?”
“It’s a possibility. She’s a strong woman and always puts on a cool front, but the bullying still haunts her. She has a hard time coming to terms with the fact that she doesn’t look like that person anymore. Sometimes when looking in the mirror, she still sees the young girl who was overweight with braces and glasses who was tortured by her classmates.”
Tackled by Love Page 5