by S. H. Kolee
Sarah smiled in understanding and put her arm around my waist, hugging me back. "I knew you kept me around for a reason."
"Oh, wow," Grant said, widening his eyes. "Jenny, you should get in on the hug. And whatever else you girls feel like doing."
"Ew!" yelled Sarah, throwing a tortilla chip at him. He caught it deftly in one hand. "You're gross!"
Grant laughed uproariously. "Just joking!" he exclaimed, holding out a hand in supplication. "You know I don't go for that sort of thing." He dipped the chip he had caught into the chili dip and ate it with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Ugh," I groaned. "You're a dork, Grant." But I couldn't help saying it with a smile. Grant liked to joke around but I knew he stayed on the straight and narrow when it came to girls. When he was on-again with Cara, he never looked at any other girl. Well, except for Sarah, but he treated it as a mild flirtation. Much to Sarah's disappointment.
Simon chuckled softly. "Grant wouldn't know what to do with more than one girl."
"And you would?" I asked indignantly, with a raised eyebrow. I immediately regretted my question. "Forget it, forget it!" I exclaimed, waving my hands. "I don't want to know."
Simon laughed, loudly this time. "I-"
"No!" I yelped, covering his mouth with my hand. "We don't want to know! Keep the sordid details to yourself!"
Simon raised his eyebrows and then got a devilish glint in his eyes as he lowered his gaze to my hand covering his mouth. I quickly jerked my hand away, feeling my body flood with warmth. I had clapped my hand over Simon's mouth without thinking, and it had felt like my hand was burning from the contact. I had quickly registered the warmth of his breath, the soft firmness of his lips, the slight stubble on his face, before I had pulled my hand away. The jolt of electricity that had gone through me at the touch was unfamiliar and I didn't know how to process it.
"Sorry," I muttered, feeling myself blush. "I just don't want to see anything I ate come back up."
Simon gave a sharp bark of laughter at my comment and shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, Caitlin?" he asked, with a wide smile.
I looked around the group. Everyone was watching our exchange with fascination and I felt my blush grow deeper. I didn't understand Simon's question so I didn't understand how to answer it. "Um..." I stammered.
Fortunately, Sarah saved me from having to answer by asking if anyone wanted another beer. I reminded myself to thank her later.
Sarah got up to retrieve the bottles of beer from the fridge and I concentrated on eating my burger, not looking up.
The doorbell rang and Jenny groaned. Marcus gave her a look of concern before he walked over to answer it. Marcus opened the front door to reveal Samantha standing there, her light brown hair whipping in the wind. She stepped in and shivered.
"It's freezing out there!" she exclaimed, running her hands through her hair and trying to straighten it out. Although she was wearing a heavy coat, it only hit mid-thigh and the rest of her legs were bare down to her black high heels. I wondered how she could stand showing all that skin in such frigid temperatures. I had never been one to suffer pain for vanity.
Samantha took off her coat, revealing a short blue miniskirt and a skintight black top. The top looked modest enough in the front, but when she turned to hand her coat to Marcus, I could see that the back plunged down, almost all the way to her skirt. I wasn't sure what type of bra she could be wearing that didn't show with such a revealing back. When Samantha turned back around, I rethought the existence of a bra as I could clearly see that the cold had affected her. I thought about my outfit in comparison to hers. We looked like a before and after, albeit a slightly slutty after.
I gave myself a mental shake and reprimanded myself for my thoughts. I wasn't in competition with anyone, or for anyone. Certainly not for Simon.
"Hi guys," she greeted with a smile, scanning the room. Her smile widened when she saw Simon. "Simon!" she gushed. "It's so good to see you again!"
She walked over, ignoring or not hearing everyone else's greeting in return and stood before Simon, standing with one hand on her hip in a practiced pose to draw the eyes to all her assets.
"Hi," Simon answered with a smile as he stood. "Samantha, right?"
Samantha's answering smile was blinding.
"You remembered," she cooed with a seductive smile. "I'm flattered."
"Have a seat," Simon offered, indicating the one he had just vacated. I ignored the feeling of displeasure at his action. I told myself it was because I didn't want to get stuck next to Samantha, no matter how sorry I felt for her. It was not because Simon so willingly gave up the seat next to me. And it also wasn't because I had felt special when he had given up his seat on the recliner for me yesterday. I felt like kicking myself.
"Oh. Okay," Samantha said with a slight frown as she watched Simon walk into the kitchen after offering his seat. All the other seats were taken and I wasn't sure where she had been expecting to sit. Not on his lap, that's for sure, I thought unkindly.
"Help yourself to some food," Grant said, indicating the plates of food on the coffee table. "Do you want a beer?"
"Do you have anything harder?" Samantha inquired. I heard Jenny make a sound that I could only describe as a harrumph but I tried to ignore it, pressing my lips together to hide a smile.
"Name your poison," Marcus said. "We have a pretty full bar."
"I'll just take a vodka tonic, if you have it," Samantha requested, crossing her long legs.
"Be right up," Marcus said, disappearing into the kitchen at the same time Simon walked back out. He was carrying two open bottles of beers and walked over, handing me one.
"Thanks," I said, grabbing the beer, not wanting to read too much into the fact that he had noticed that I was finished with my first one. I took a long swig, trying to clear my thoughts with the coldness of the beer. Sure, it wasn't smart trying to clear my head with alcohol, but at this point I was willing to try anything.
Simon folded his long body down until he was sitting by the coffee table, practically right in front of my feet. Or, I told myself, practically in front of Samantha's feet.
"So," I said, turning to Samantha. "How have you been?"
"Good," she replied shortly, turning to look at me, her dark eyes assessing me. "You?"
I shrugged. "Same old, same old." Samantha shifted her head to look down at Simon in the midst of my response, her expression changing to a smile. I figured that was the extent of my conversational obligation, considering I had just defended her moments ago. She didn't seem too eager to talk to me either, so I turned back to the rest of the group.
"When's your next soccer game?" I asked Marcus, trying to tune out whatever Samantha was saying to Simon. "It seems like ages since we've gone to one."
Marcus laughed. "You haven't gone to one in ages because we haven't played one in ages. It seems like all we do is practice. I think our coach is slacking in contacting other teams to set up games. I'm starting to just think of it as a way to get a good work out. And to hang out with the guys on the team."
"Why don't you play?" Sarah asked Grant. "With your body, I bet you'd be great at it." She gave him a bold wink and I tried not to choke on my sip of beer. Sometimes Sarah's boldness still had the power to shock me.
Grant just grinned, taking the compliment easily. "My one and only love is the Henchmen," he answered. "I don't want to waste any of my time running after a small ball with a bunch of sweaty guys."
"Ha," Marcus scoffed. "I've seen you try and kick a soccer ball." Marcus turned to us, raising his eyebrows. "He was running and missed the ball completely, kicking up a sod of dirt big enough to hurt when it hit me."
We all laughed except for Samantha and Simon, who were involved in their own conversation. Even though I had been making a Herculean effort not to listen, it was hard not to overhear considering they were right next to me. Samantha was asking Simon about his class schedule and about his show next week. Simon wasn't overly ent
husiastic in his replies but at the same time he wasn't being discouraging.
"Let's listen to something more upbeat," I said, wanting to drown out their conversation. The boys had music playing, but it was mellow and relaxing. Way too quiet for my liking at the moment.
"Sure," Grant said, walking over to his computer on the desk in the corner where the music had been coming from. He fiddled around with it and then straightened as a heavier beat started to fill the room. "This is my workout playlist. That should be upbeat enough for you."
Green Day's American Idiot started filling the room. I wasn't sure if this was considered upbeat but it was loud enough to serve my purpose.
The group started talking about Jenny's birthday, which fell on the day before Halloween, so we were planning a combined birthday celebration and Halloween party at our place. We were then ending the night at the East End so that Jenny could finally put her legal age to use. Her birthday conveniently fell on a Saturday, which made the party even easier to plan.
I noticed that Simon and Samantha were no longer in a private conversation and had joined the rest of the group. I let the comforting swell of voices wash over me as I thought about how different this was than high school. I had friends in high school, but I had limited most of my interactions to solely during the school day. I rarely spent time like most high school girls, going to the mall with friends, sleeping over, hanging out at the local diner in large groups. It was easier to just stay at home instead of having to act like my visions weren't starting to unravel me. My father was rarely home, so I had the house to myself.
Isolating myself had served my purpose but it had also been very lonely. But now I had a group of friends that I felt comfortable around, and felt that I could share most of myself with, if not everything. I reminded myself that this was why it was so important to keep Simon at arm's length. Nothing good could come out of us exploring anything beyond friendship because there was no way I could be totally honest with him, especially since Simon himself had been the subject of one of my visions. I consoled myself with the fact that I could still have him as a friend. A wildly attractive and funny friend.
My reverie was broken by a warm hand on mine. Simon grabbed my hand as he fluidly stood up with an easy grace. "Let's dance," he said with a grin. I noticed the music had changed to a slower tune, one I didn't recognize. The song spoke of a lover lost and the emptiness that remained. Grant worked out to this?
I felt alarmed by how much I wanted to dance with Simon. By how thrilling it was for him to be holding my hand. So I did the sensible thing and pulled my hand quickly out of his grasp, laughing nervously. "I'm a terrible dancer," I said, with a weak smile. "Plus I'm exhausted from work."
Samantha seized the opportunity and jumped up, grabbing Simon's hand that I had just released. "I'll dance!" she squealed. "I love to dance!"
Simon looked at me for a second, an expression crossing his face that I didn't understand. He then turned to Samantha with a smile. "I can never refuse a lady's request."
As they walked to the open space in the middle of the living room, Sarah turned to me and rolled her eyes, pointing her index finger into her mouth as if she were gagging.
I laughed and gave her a look of warning in case they saw her motion, but Samantha had her arms around Simon's neck, oblivious to anything else, and Simon's back was to us.
"Come on," Jenny said, grabbing Marcus' hand and pulling him out onto the impromptu dance floor. "Let's show 'em how it's done."
As the two couples swayed to the music and Grant started fiddling with his computer, Sarah moved in closer to me so no one could overhear our conversation.
"I'm not going to say anything because I promised to but-"
I interrupted her. "So don't say anything then," I warned her. Sarah saw the look on my face and wisely decided to drop the subject. As I discreetly watched Simon and Samantha dancing, I decided I was being way too sensitive to Simon's actions. So he was flirting with me. He probably flirted with everyone. That didn't mean he was interested in pursuing anything with me beyond a friendship and casual flirtation. Simon just probably found it entertaining to push my boundaries, thinking I was too straitlaced. Plus, he didn't know anyone in school yet. Once the girls descended upon him, I would fade into the background.
"I forgot to tell you that your dad called me while you were at work," Sarah said, interrupting my somewhat depressing thoughts. "He said you weren't answering your cell phone."
"Crap," I muttered. "My battery died and I forgot to charge it when I got home." My father wasn't a frequent caller, as he usually only called when he was annoyed by something. Then he was relentless in trying to reach me. "Did he say what he wanted?"
"Sorry," Sarah said, grimacing. "He just said he wanted to talk to you. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you earlier. I hope it doesn't make it worse."
Sarah knew that the more impatient my father got when he was trying to reach me, the sharper his tongue became. Sarah had unfortunately been witness to a few of my father's "words of wisdom" because she had come home with me for a few days my freshman year. I had foolishly thought that maybe the distance that college had given my father and I would improve our relationship. I had been mistaken. It had been mortifying to have my father criticize me in front of Sarah and it had made me wonder if he actually did it out of malice, not a misguided notion to help steer me in the right direction in life. But I had convinced myself that wasn't the case.
"Don't worry about it," I said, trying not to show my distress. "I'm sure he's already annoyed that I didn't answer my cell phone. There's nothing to do about it now."
"Do you want to go up and call him now?" Sarah asked, concern on her face. "I'll go with you."
"No," I said, shaking my head as I checked my watch. "He'll just get mad at me for calling him late."
"What?" Sarah said in disbelief, grabbing my wrist and looking at my watch because she wasn't wearing one. "It's barely nine o'clock!"
I rubbed my forehead, trying to soothe the headache that was starting. Even though it wasn't late, my father would latch onto anything to criticize me. We were well versed in these games that we would play. "Let's not talk about it here, Sarah."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, instantly contrite. "I don't want you to stress out about this now. I just ruined your night."
I gave her a tight smile. "No, you didn't," I replied, trying to reassure her. "Samantha's headlights ruined my night. The image of them is burned in my brain."
Sarah gave a sharp bark of laughter and then clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the sound. I looked up to see if anyone had overheard. Grant was still concentrating on his computer and Marcus and Jenny were laughing and talking as they swayed to the music. I glanced at Simon and Samantha and saw that now Samantha's back was to us and Simon was facing us, his eyes watching me intently. Samantha's face was tilted up to him and I could see from her profile that she was talking to him, but his eyes were fixed on mine. I couldn't read the expression on his face. Concern? Curiosity? Boredom? I quickly shifted my eyes, breaking the contact.
"You know," I started, turning to Sara. I felt the sudden need to put some distance between Simon and I. "I changed my mind. It's probably best to get it over with and call my dad."
Sarah placed her beer on the coffee table and put her hand on my arm. "I'll come with you."
I shook my head. "No, you stay here," I insisted. "I'll come back down. There's no point for you to come too."
"But-" Sarah started but I stopped her before she could continue.
"Sarah," I said, smiling at her. "I'm fine. I'm just going to talk to my father. It's no big deal."
Sarah frowned. "But I know how upset he can make you," she protested.
"I swear I won't let myself get upset. He doesn't have the power to upset me anymore because I just don't care," I lied. "I'll be back."
"Okay," Sarah relented. "But if you're not back in half an hour, I'm coming up."
I really was lucky to ha
ve someone like Sarah in my life. I never stopped feeling grateful for having a friend like her. "Deal."
"Hey guys," I said, standing up and studiously avoiding looking in Simon's direction. "I totally forgot to make a phone call. I'm just going to run up to the apartment. I'll be back."
In my peripheral, I saw Simon break away from Samantha and suddenly he was in front of me. "Just use my cell phone," Simon said, standing closer to me than I would have liked. "You can go into one of the bedrooms if you need privacy."
I tilted my head up to look at him. Even though Marcus had an inch on him, Simon really was tall. "The number is in my cell phone that I left at home. That's the problem with cell phones. No one knows anyone's number anymore," I said, trying to joke. I walked quickly to the front door. "I'll be right back."
"Hurry back!" exclaimed Jenny as I opened the door.
I turned around and gave a quick smile. "I will." Sarah was frowning at me and Simon's expression was inscrutable as I closed the door behind me.
**********
When I got back to my apartment, I quickly plugged my phone into the charger by my bed, waiting for my phone to light up, signaling that it could be used. When it lit up, I scrolled to my voicemails and saw I had three new voicemails from my father. I deleted them all, knowing that there was no use listening to them, and quickly hit his name on the contact list. The phone started ringing and I tensely waited for him to pick up.
"Caitlin," he said, with no greeting. "I've been trying to call you all day. Where have you been?"
"Sorry Dad," I apologized. "My phone died at work and I forgot to charge it when I got back home."
My father sighed heavily. "Caitlin. How hard is it to keep track of your phone and not let the battery die? How are you going to accomplish anything in life when you can't even manage the simplest tasks?"
I bit my lip, starting to feel anger welling up but trying to keep it at bay. It was always a test of patience talking to my dad. I knew there was no use in getting angry. That just gave him more ammunition. But it was really hard to bite my tongue, and sometimes I lost the battle. I loved my father on some level, and that was the only reason why I continued to try and maintain a relationship with him, as dysfunctional as it was. I had no other family besides him. My mother's parents had passed away before I was born, and the rest of her side of the family was in Korea. I had never had contact with any of them. My father was completely estranged from his family, although he had never told me why, so I didn't know any of them either.