by Sara Hess
Another thing I liked about her was that her attitude toward me hadn’t altered when she found out who I was, and how wealthy my family was. Girls eyes generally lit up at the prospect of money, but Carrie’s had looked agitated by it.
And then she’d topped it off by actually listening to me. She’d picked out the word ‘expects’ in my conversation and asked what I wanted. That wasn’t a common response I heard from others.
We’d been done with our meal for a while and were just talking when Carrie looked up at the clock on the wall and exclaimed, “Oh my god. I can’t believe we’ve been sitting here for two and a half hours. I should probably get home.” A sad grimace crossed her face like she would rather do anything but go home, but maybe she was unhappy that our lunch was ending. I knew I was.
Carrie reached over to grab the bill, but I got to it first. The death glare she gave me almost had me laughing at how adorable it was but I already knew that wouldn’t go over so well with her.
“I can pay for my own lunch.” She said, shaking her hand for the bill impatiently.
I swallowed another laugh. “I’m sure you can, but I asked you. No, actually, I pleaded with you basically forcing you to come. So please, for the sake of my mind and masculinity, will you let me pay this time?” Was that too thick?
“That was like peanut butter and molasses mixed together it was so thick.” She stated dryly.
Yep. She called me on it. “Did it work?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine, I will concede under pressure, but I want to get the tip. Although, with the way you tip that’s just punishment for the waitress. So if you would have left more than…” she looked at the bill, “eight dollars make sure you drop the additional money after I leave so I won’t feel bad. I gave her extra because we took up her booth, mind you.”
I nodded in agreement not saying anything, because yes, I would have given Tina twenty for taking up her table. The differences in our tipping had me wondering if maybe I threw my money around pompously. I always figured that I had extra so why not spread it about, but it would doubtless make Carrie uncomfortable if I did it around her too much.
We gathered our coats and her purse and headed out…after I dropped the extra money on the table when she looked away. Setting my hand to her back, just so I could have some contact with her, I guided her to the truck. Unlocking the door I helped her up inside the cab and then went around to the driver’s side.
“I have to say this even though I know you’ll probably say no; would you let me take you home?” I started the truck.
“You know me so well already.” She set her fingers to her chest and widened her eyes dramatically.
She was too adorable. “It really wouldn’t be a problem, but that’s only if you feel comfortable enough to be off campus with me.” I drove out of the parking lot.
Her brows puckered. “I do trust you, and that’s saying something because I don’t trust easily.”
I had already guessed this about her, but to have her say it made it more significant. I wanted her trust.
“So let me take you home. It’s one little ride, and not to make you feel insignificant, but I have nothing better to do.” Come on, say yes.
She looked out her side window as I drove down Campus Drive. I wondered what she was thinking. Reaching the corner near the bus stop I heard her expel a deep breath.
“Uhm, okay, thank you. That would be really nice.” She turned to me with a tentative smile, and I got the impression that Carrie wasn’t accustomed to people doing nice things for her which I had a hard time believing. This girl was completely gorgeous and hella-sweet, you’d think people would be bending over backwards to do nice things for her, especially guys. All the beautiful women I knew habitually expected things to be done for them as their due.
Carrie pointed to the right. “Go right. I live off Vienna Dr. near the IGA. Do you know where that is?”
The light was green so I turned right. “Yeah, I know where it is.” And it wasn’t the greatest neighborhood. Is that one of the reasons she’d hesitated? Was she embarrassed? Apart from her sexuality and being somewhat shy she seemed pretty confident.
“So you take the bus to school every day?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s not so bad. It would be a psychologists dream. Some of the things I’ve seen you wouldn’t believe.” She laughed. “There was this time when a group of five theater majors got on and acted out a scene from ‘Spaceballs’, it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen.” She chuckled in remembrance. I laughed at the idea of it, and imaged her sitting there watching it and laughing. She had a great laugh.
Something occurred to me that cut my amusement short though. “When you worked at that restaurant did you take the bus home at night?”
“Yes,” she answered.
My mood went immediately grave. “That doesn’t sound too safe. You don’t know anyone that could have driven you, someone at the restaurant that could have dropped you off?”
“I’d only been working at the restaurant for two months, and I don’t know a lot of people, and the bus is actually pretty safe, and I’m not even working at the restaurant anymore so don’t have a hissy about it.”
I snorted at her harangue, but I wasn’t going to let it go. “I may or may not agree that the bus is safe, but I do know walking alone at night down the street is definitely dangerous. How far of a walk do you have from the bus stop to your house?” I asked crossly.
She looked at me in surprise. I knew I was behaving irrationally, but the thought of her walking at night, alone, in any neighborhood set my teeth on edge. No girl should be walking the streets at night alone.
“I don’t know if I want to tell you?” She answered crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve lived in that neighborhood for three years. I know it pretty well. I also know how to protect myself.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hate it when girls say that. There are so many incidents where you would not be able to protect yourself. Do I really need to go through them all?”
She turned to face me with a frown. “Are you really getting angry at me because of the circumstances of my life? I have no choice but to take the bus. I have no car, and I don’t have any close friends that I can ask for a ride. These are the facts of my life, there’s no disputing them or changing them at this time.”
Her words kicked me in the ass. I was sitting here in my expensive new truck practically yelling at her for getting by the only way she was able to with what she had.
“Hell, I’m sorry.” I apologized. She was probably regretting getting a ride with me. Reaching over I grabbed the hand that was clenched tightly on her leg and uncurling her stiff fingers I interlaced them with mine. She looked down at our intertwined hands with an expression of mystification. I was just a mystified by my move, but I was more concerned with apologizing. “The thought of you walking down a dark street by yourself does not sit well with me and unfortunately I reacted like an asshat.”
Her fingers relaxed as I expressed my idiocy and a slight grin lifted her lips at my terminology.
“If you aren’t too mad at me and if this question isn’t too personal; how are you paying for UVA?”
“I received a full scholarship.” She replied softly still looking at our joined hands.
I gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s awesome, but I knew you were super smart in the first ten minutes of knowing you.”
She snorted but remained silent. I could understand her disbelief because I’d basically called her stupid just seconds ago for walking at night. That definitely hadn’t been one of my finer moments.
“If you have a full ride how come you’re not living on campus? It’s free for you, right?”
Her hand went rigid in mine before she pulled it away, and it wasn’t just her hand, I could feel her emotional withdrawal too.
“I live with my mom. She needs my help, and I just can’t leave her right now.”
Carrie’s voice was tight and unemotional
as she talked about her mother. A look at her face revealed nothing; no sadness or affection for her mother, no anger or frustration or even resignation for having to stay at home to take care of that parent. I at least had extreme feelings of frustration, antipathy, and annoyance for my parents.
“Take a right at the next light; then its six blocks down.” She navigated.
I saw the bus depot at the corner and now I knew how far she had to walk to her bus. I really didn’t like it but knew to keep my mouth shut about it this time.
I turned at the light. “How about your father?” I asked hoping someone was keeping an eye out for her at the bus stop.
Next to me Carrie’s breathing became extremely erratic. I looked over at her in alarm. Was she having an asthma attack? Her face was white and her hands were clenching and unclenching.
I slowed down to pull to the side of the road. “Carrie, are you okay?”
She continued to open and close her hands. “I’m alright,’ she gasped. “It’s just something that comes and goes.” She gasped again. “I do these exercises and everything is okay.” Another gasp, but less erratic.
I watched her feeling useless as she clenched, unclenched, and breathed. She’d closed her eyes and appeared to be concentrating. I had the urge to hold her close, enfold her in my arms letting her know she was safe, but all I could do is watch because I didn’t want to interrupt in case it broke her focus.
What seemed like hours, but was in fact only about two minutes, she finally opened her eyes. They were glazed, haunted my sadness, and seemed to hold years of suffering. Unable to stop myself I unbuckled her seatbelt and hauled her over into my lap. I was taking a chance because it hadn’t escaped my notice that she was uneasy with being touched, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. Moreover, I could relate to her mystified look when I’d held her hand earlier because I was behaving in a way that was completely out of character, but hell, all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and expel from her mind whatever was making her so sad.
At first she stiffened up but it didn’t last long at all, it was like she didn’t have the energy, and for that I was grateful. Her body slumped boneless against mine. Her face had gone from white to flushed and clammy. Reaching over I cracked the window letting in some fresh air, and then leaning back in my seat I tucked her head under my chin. I soothingly rubbed my hand up and down her arm. She was all bundled up with her coat and cap, but still trembled slightly.
“Are you alright?” I asked worriedly.
“Yes, I’m sorry for that.” She whispered piteously.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry; I’ve given you the worst ride home ever.” I joked feebly.
She gave a halfhearted chuckle. “God, I don’t have the energy to laugh.”
I patted her shoulder. “That’s okay, it really wasn’t that funny.”
Her hand came up to settle on my chest; I’d unfasten my coat so only one layer of clothing separated her hand from my skin. Her hand was cold so I covered it with mine to warm it. I felt her other hand, cold as well, burrow inside my coat near my waist and between our bodies, probably in search of more warmth.
My comfort mode was beginning to take a fast turn into arousal as she sat in my lap so compliant and soft. Her hair smelled citrusy, and felt so silky. I took a deep breath getting control, this definitely wasn’t the time.
“Carrie, what happened?”
“Please, Nic, don’t ask me that right now.” Her hand clenched and unclenched against my chest.
“Okay,” I said softly rubbing her hand.
“Thank you.” She sighed.
I had a feeling she was referring to more than my acceptance of her request.
Chapter Eight
CARRIE
I spent Sunday doing school work at the library, grocery shopping, and cleaning the house. Mom sat around mostly ignoring me during the cleaning apart from the occasional glare. Nic’s image followed me throughout the day and I would vacillate between utter mortification about my episode in his truck and getting warm fuzzy feelings in regards to everything else that happened during our time together.
After my episode I’d sat in Nic’s lap for another several minutes nearly falling asleep. I normally became a bit befuddled after each one and it had felt so amazingly good to be held and comforted by someone that I’d completely spaced out. Carl was the only person who hugged me regularly, but he didn’t do it for a lengthy period of time and I also hadn’t seen him in a while, so the warmth and strength of Nic’s embrace had lulled me into feeling a real sense of security and affection.
But eventually awareness had crashed down on me reminding me that I’d only know Nic for a couple of hours and here I was literally dumping my problems in his lap. I’d scrambled off him and over to the other seat absolutely humiliated. All I’d wanted to do was jump from the truck and hide but Nic had stopped my escape by grabbing my arm. With no way out I’d muttered apologizes directing him to my apartment which had only been one more block down the road. He’d assured me that it was no problem and had even asked to walk me to my door, but I’d told him it would only disturb my mother. I’d then thanked him for the ride, jumped out, and ran for my door. Slipping inside quietly I’d peeked out the window to watch him drive away.
I was used to keeping people at arm’s length, but something about him had pushed me to take a chance. He’d been so easy to talk to. Then I’d gone all crazy person on him and now he was probably going to stay as far away from me as possible.
Monday arrived and I was back to keeping my head down. I had two classes in the morning and then I worked for Professor Gale for a couple hours grading and filing. I was finished with that around three and then I had a late lunch while doing some school work. At four I went to work at the Sports store.
John was off today so I was working with Mark, a junior manager. He was a senior at UVA majoring in marketing. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes and appeared to have some Asian ancestry. I’d worked with him twice before and he was tolerable to work with. He seemed to follow me around to check up on me a lot and whatever section he found me in he would start expounding on the marketing techniques used to sell that equipment. It had been interesting the first few times but got old after a while. All I could think was that he must really like marketing which was good since he was majoring in it.
The way he stared at me was a bit unsettling at times, but he was pretty ‘shmooshy’ with many of the attractive female customers so I didn’t take it too personally. Many of the women seemed to appreciate his attention so they must find his looks and manner to their liking.
It was seven thirty p.m. and the store had only one customer. Mark was on the floor seeing to them and I was behind the counter manning the register familiarizing myself with the sports catalogues when the door jingled announcing another customer.
I looked up automatically and caught my breath when I saw Nic walk in. He was in jeans with a tan jacket, and his blonde curly hair was slightly disheveled. With his blonde scruffy…sexy…stubble he made a sigh worthy picture. He was looking around and when he spotted me the smile that lit up his face sent my already fluttering heart into overdrive.
He strode toward me unfastening his coat and it parted to reveal a white cotton thermal. His walk was graceful yet powerful, his long legs eating up the distance to the counter in seconds. I had the urge to reach up and pull my cap off but instead set my hands on the counter interlacing my fingers. I was unsure on how to act with him after the other night.
Stepping up to the counter he gazed down at me with a warm smile. Jeesh, he was tall, like a whole foot taller than me. “Hey Carrie.”
Tingles erupted everywhere at the sound of his husky voice. I could tell he’d taken a recent shower because he looked and smelled fresh. He smelled more than fresh, he smelled incredibly male and musky. It affected me in a very physical way.
“Hi Nic.” I returned guardedly. He didn’t seem to be treating me any different or
looking at me like I was about to go raving mad; that was something.
His gaze traveled over me, at least what he could see of me behind the counter, and returned to my face. The heat in them warmed me all over.
“You look very nice today.” He said gruffly.
I looked down at my old light blue button up sweater and the same white polo and khaki outfit I’d worn the last time he’d seen me. The absurdity of his remark had humor tugging at my lip. “If you say so.”
“I do.” He responded firmly. “You always look nice. In fact, I don’t believe you could ever look bad.”
Relaxing a little more I snorted. “Have you ever gone to bed with wet hair before?” I asked.
He frowned slightly, still grinning. “Yeah, I have. Why?”
“How does it look in the morning?”
“It sticks up everywhere.” He answered, grin growing.
He had such a great smile. “Now imagine someone with longer hair going to bed with wet hair and waking up. It’s like wicked witch meets Don King. It’s scary.”
His eyes twinkled and he laughed. “Come on, you’re not supposed to be ruining the perfect image of yourself. Girls want us to believe they wake up with hair perfectly coiffed glowing from a good night sleep. Next you’ll be telling me about eye boogers.”
“Even I don’t want to imagine that.” I shuddered. That was too close to the other boogers.
Mark came around the counter. “Nic Stanford, what can we do for you?” His tone wasn’t as friendly as it usually was with the other customer’s. He walked over to stand next to me, almost touching my side.
I shuffled over half a foot uncomfortable with my space being invaded. Mark was only about five inches taller than me so he wasn’t all that imposing, but I still didn’t like it. Nic’s face tightened and he lost his smile. In fact, he seemed to be holding back a scowl.