Can't Buy Me Love

by Abigail Drake

  “The car will be fine. That’s what insurance is for. Sam’s family will have it covered. And, no one was hurt. That’s really what is important.”

  “Thanks.” She seemed genuinely grateful for my words. “The least I can do is look after the cats.”

  “You’re a rock star just for doing that.”

  “Not a cat fan?” she asked as we both exited my Jeep.

  “Not at all.” I acknowledged. “Well, except for the Bengals.”

  “What?”

  “The football team.” I smiled at my own little joke about the team I had grown up supporting.

  “Whatever,” she replied, but I could tell she thought it was a little bit funny.

  After we got the cats fed and had the pizza box open on the coffee table, we bonded a little more over cheese, sauce, and how suckered Sam was by Olivia. I found myself telling her about my music—about booking gigs and the jittery excitement I had felt the first time I sang an original piece in public. She mentioned how her family had moved around a lot in her childhood but settled near Pittsburgh, and also how she liked to read an entire novel all in one day.

  It was when I was telling her that I far more preferred poetry and lyrics that I noticed her nose was beginning to look like Rudolph’s. With due cause, too, because she had been rubbing it like a crazy woman for most of our time at the apartment. Turns out, she had a pretty nasty cat allergy and really needed to get out of the environment.

  It was a shame. I think we probably would have stayed and talked a little bit longer. But, I drove her back to her dorm, just a small hill down from mine, and found myself wondering if I was now going to be able to get her off my mind.

  No. Nope. Not . . . a . . . chance.

  It was odd. I didn’t know exactly what I was feeling. I just knew I wanted to know more about her. She intrigued me—that mix of sassiness, innocence, and realistic outlook on life.

  So, once Sam and Olivia started healing, I found ways to manipulate it so we would go out together as a group. Mostly, it was a bunch of us co-eds. But, a couple times, it was just the four of us—Sam, Olivia, Lara, and I.

  As I got to know her better, I began to realize what I had first thought of as stuck-up behavior was more of a mask or a shield to protect herself. From what, though, I didn’t know. But I wanted to. Her defenses were evident in her dry humor and the fact that she hardly ever smiled. You had to look for it … know it. There was something so sad and pure about her. I wanted to show her things and protect her. She was like a country song come to life.

  On Tuesdays, Sam and Lara had class together. My economics course, which took place at the same time, was just down the corridor. So, the three of us would often meet up afterward. One Tuesday, while Sam was steps away on a private phone conversation with Olivia, Lara and I were left alone. It gave me the perfect opportunity to ask her a question that had been swirling around in my mind.

  “I read about this hush-hush preview of that new sci-fi film. You know, the third one in the Star Alignment series. And a couple of the actors will be there signing autographs.”

  “Really?” Her cheeks rose and her eyes brightened like I’d hoped they might. Lara seemed to like the techy and escapism stuff. Plus, there was a touch of romance in the movie, which all girls fell for.

  “Yep. Something about it having been filmed nearby. You wanta go?”

  “Yeah,” she beamed again. “Let me ask Liv and Sam.”

  My head surely must have jerked back in shock, because inviting others along wasn’t the point. It wasn’t the plan. I wanted to actually do this … try this with her. It was already taking much longer than with most girls, but that was okay, because Lara seemed different.

  “They don’t have to come,” I interceded. “I doubt Olivia will want any part of it. Let’s just go . . . the two of us.”

  “No, we have to ask them,” she insisted.

  With incredibly poor timing, Sam was once again at our side. “Ask who what?”

  After repeating the movie details to our mutual friend, Lara concluded with, “So, you and Olivia want to go, right?”

  I shook my head behind Lara willing Sam to understand that I wanted a definite ‘no’ from camp Oliviam. The combination of their names was something I didn’t do in front of Sam and Olivia, but I did very much enjoy it in my own brain. But, just as he was oblivious to my nickname, he was equally so with my attempt to squash the idea of a foursome. Of … freaking … course.

  “God, yeah,” Sam said. “Let’s go. I bet we can get a whole crew.”

  Lara smiled and turned to me. “It’s gonna be so cool.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What? You don’t want to?” She noted my solemn disposition instantly. “It was your idea.”

  “No. I do.”

  “You don’t seem like it,” she objected.

  “Sorry. Yeah, I do.” I ran my hand through my hair and brushed it off my forehead.

  “Good. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” There was that subtle smile again—the rare kind she gave. Her smile and words made me feel a little more wanted and a little less rejected.

  “I’m heading up the hill,” I spoke of the area where our dorms were. “Want a lift?”

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  We said good-bye to Sam, who had another class, and made our way to my red Jeep. I was glad to have the extra time alone with her. I wanted to try to broach the date subject again.

  As we neared her dorm, I slowed down and suggested, “You know, it would have been fine if Sam and Olivia didn’t want to go. We could have still went.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess,” she said. “But it all worked out.”

  “We could, though, sometime,” I felt like I was stumbling around like an idiot. “Just the two of us.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders and went for her passenger door handle. “Thanks for the ride, Finn.”

  “Uh-huh. Right.”

  We did go to the movie gig. And despite going with a bunch of people, it was a nice time. Lara liked the special effects of the film. I liked the soundtrack and conversing with the actors. Sam and Olivia ended up arguing about something—something stupid and petty. They always did that and would make up almost as instantly. But, it took away from the evening as Lara and I had to console the couple and take sides.

  After I dropped a pouting Olivia off at her apartment, I drove Lara to her dorm. As she exited the back of the Jeep, I started to get out the front. “I’ll make sure you get in okay,” I offered. Even though she didn’t look at our outing as a date, I liked thinking of it that way.

  “The door is like ten feet away,” she plopped her hand on my car door to keep it steady and shut.

  “The door is ten feet away, Dude.” Sam, the worst wingman ever, chimed in next to me. He was going to stay over at our frat house instead of the place he normally rested his head … Olivia’s apartment.

  “I’m fine,” Lara claimed and hopefully did not hear me sigh. “Thanks for setting this up. It was fun. Well…” she leaned in a little closer, and, for a split second, I foolishly thought she was going to kiss me. But, of course, she just wanted to whisper so Sam wouldn’t hear. “Well, except for Mr. and Mrs. Drama.” And, with that, she shook her head, turned, and walked into the split-level house that was her dorm.

  Once I got back to my room, I texted Lara a picture of the famous drama masks accompanied by my message of: Sam’s already on the phone w/her.

  She sent me back a picture of an eye-roll. I literally laughed out loud. The night may not have turned out the way I would have liked, but it was still worth it.

  I suggested a couple other times, shortly after our movie outing, that Lara and I do something together. But, she was either busy or we went out as a group. I got the ‘it wasn’t going to happen’ point rather quickly. What I didn’t understand was why it couldn’t. The irony was, after all, when we did go out with friends, she and I pretty much hung out exclusively and joked and talked,
anyway. But, I learned to accept that we had definitely entered the friend zone. And, for whatever reason, I knew Lara wanted and liked it that way. It wasn’t necessarily what I wanted. But I guess it could have been worse.

  As much of a friendship as we had, though, I never saw her get really emotional. She never cried. Not even when I thought for sure she would—on the day when she heard the devastating news. I knew I would have. I would have been absolutely crushed. I would have been destroyed if it had been me.

  She literally bumped right into me when I entered her dorm to check on her. “Finn.”

  “Hey,” I replied softly.

  “My dad died.” She was blunt and controlled but quiet.

  “Yeah, I know. I was with Sam when you called looking for Liv.”

  “Oh.” She backed up a mini-step and started playing with some coins in her hand.

  “I thought I’d come see you since Olivia is at her internship thing.”

  “Yeah, I forgot she was there.”

  “Lar, what happened … with your dad?”

  “It was an ATV accident.” She had the slightest look of disgust on her face, and her voice turned harsher. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  It was then I realized, besides the basics, she never really talked about her family. “You sure?”

  “Finn. . .” Her voice dropped off and was much softer.

  It made me want to hold her . . . need to hold her. I wanted to take all of her pain away. So, I did. I just wrapped my arms around her. And, miraculously, she let me. She was usually so reserved and not wanting any kind of help. So, it took me by surprise. But, in a good way. It felt like we were in a cocoon where only I could shelter her from the pain of the outside world—like I was the one friend she needed.

  “You’re going home, then?” I asked from above her head and behind her back.

  “Yeah. My brother is on his way.” She broke our embrace. “I was just going to get something to drink from the machine.”

  It startled me a little. She was back to being brave, strong, and more remote. But, since I had gotten to know Lara better, I realized it was just her way. She was good at putting up emotional walls.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered in a simple and distracted way. And then she did something else which was typical Lara—she changed the subject. “I thought you were going home this weekend. Shouldn’t you be heading out?”

  “I will.”

  “Louisville is a few hours away. You should probably get going.”

  “Lara, you and your promptness.” I smiled and teased. “It’s only my mom’s birthday. It doesn’t matter if I’m late. She’ll be happy I’m even there. I can stay with you until your brother or Olivia gets here.”

  “Yeah?” Once again, she had that endearing ‘Lara’ vulnerability about her.

  “For sure.”

  She nodded her appreciation. “I’m kind of cold. I’m gonna go get a warmer top. I’ll meet you in the lounge?”

  “What about your drink?”

  “Huh?”

  “The coins?”

  “Oh, can you get it for me?” She handed me the money.

  “Yeah. What do you want?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She started to turn but paused and said, “Thanks, Finn.”

  “Lara . . .” I started to ask her again how she was, but I knew she wouldn’t give me much, so I said instead, “you got it.”

  Olivia and Sam arrived shortly after, and her brother, Lane, wasn’t too far behind them. Being up all night, making fast airline arrangements from his home on the east coast, and then driving to get her was evident in his appearance and demeanor. Lara’s brother had dark circles under his eyes, and his voice sounded worn when he told her they needed to leave for their road trip to Pittsburgh. In response, I gave Lara a short hug, and she gave me her blink of a smile back. And then she was gone.

  I was drunk when I met Audrey. It was during my mother’s birthday weekend in Louisville. I was visiting a high school buddy of mine at the University of Louisville. We were drinking beer, doing some shots, and I was trying not to look at my phone to see if Lara had replied to my text wondering how she was doing.

  So, when a redheaded co-ed appeared at my side and asked me to dance, I readily accepted. I loved to dance. I loved to sing. I loved everything about music. And, I needed the extra distraction the alcohol hadn’t secured. Audrey was a good dancer … and, it turned out, a good kisser. That dance and that kiss kept me in the moment and, in the long run, helped me move on.

  Audrey was the epitome of what I was looking for in a girl—we had similar interests and goals, and she was outgoing. We ended up seeing one another at least every other weekend as I made the effort to drive to Louisville and spend time with her. And, my friendship with Lara was still intact. So, it all seemed to work out for a reason.

  Adding to the contentment of my personal life, I also had fantastic news professionally.

  Days before graduation, I found out I’d been selected for a coveted internship at a major record label. It was so surreal and so unbelievably life changing, I could hardly stand it.

  My friend, Decan, and I decided to celebrate our impending graduation and futures on a night shortly after I heard the exciting news. Of course, the celebration included a bit more alcohol than we probably should have had. But, we were both friendly, happy drunks. So, it was all good.

  When we decided to call it a night, I helped walk Decan back to his co-ed dorm, because that’s what ‘bros’ are for, after all. The front door of the split-level house swung open dramatically as if a royal queen was making a grand entrance. We both laughed at the action and launched sloppily up the stairs.

  When I heard her voice, it startled me. I hadn’t expected anyone to be sitting there in the second floor living area. But, there she was on the blue sofa, looking right at us.

  “Hello, boys.”

  “Lara . . . Hello.” I managed to string two words together while still supporting Decan.

  “What are you two doing?” She shook her head and put her hand up to cover her mouth as if holding in laughter.

  “Decan here is being all poli-sci guy. We were tossing the pigskin around ala Kennedy. He’s trying to drum up business.”

  “You were playing football, now?” She emphasized the last word in obvious reference to the late-night hour.

  “Yep,” I answered holding in a giggle.

  “Here, Lara.” Decan gave Lara, his housemate, a button with his name on it. “Vote Mickelson for Mayor.”

  “That really is so cool, Decan. I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.”

  Decan was running for mayor in his hometown. His campaign would be in full force upon graduation. If he won, he’d be the youngest mayor in his town’s history. If he didn’t win, his fall back option was the Navy. With his closely cropped, nearly white hair and circular Harry S. Truman glasses, he fit the part of both and would, without a doubt, succeed in whichever career.

  “Uh, Lara, thank you for my vote.” He was still clinging onto me. “Um, your, uh—”

  “No new taxes!” I quietly egged him on as Lara went to shut the doors leading to the bedrooms. Maybe we were louder than I’d thought.

  “No, no new taxes,” Decan echoed. “Just for the middle class or the lower class or—”

  “I’m recording this,” I teased.

  “This is my first beer, I swear. I wouldn’t lie to my constituents.” He looked straight at Lara.

  “I don’t live in your town or state for that matter,” she said and reclaimed her seat on the sofa. “Besides, I’m not registered.”

  The exasperation in my sigh was noticeable and immediate, because I dreaded what was, without a doubt, going to come next. “Oh, boy.”

  “What!?!?” Decan bellowed. “You’re not registered to vote?”

  I rolled my eyes at Lara as she replied, “No.”

  “How can you not be registered?” Decan pulled away
from me. “That is your duty, your duty as an American citizen, your right.”

  “I just never did. I had a lot going on when it was time to vote and I was eighteen. And now I’m here, away from home—”

  “You need to register to vote, Lara. You can get an absentee ballot,” Decan bounced right back. “There’s no excuse. It’s—”

  “Hey, Susan B., settle down. Give the girl a break.” I clamped my hand down on Decan’s shoulder trying to mediate between my two friends.

  “Pretty good, there, Finnster. Susan B. Anthony did advocate voter’s rights…women’s rights. All the more reason—"

  “I do listen sometimes in class, Numb Nuts,” I jabbed.

  “Don’t be a hater, man. I gotta bounce, anyway. Going to call the old lady.”

  I hated that term for girlfriend and debated on whether to tell the budding politician that he should be a little more politically correct, but I was cut off by Lara. “Good night, Decan.”

  While Decan made his way toward his room, I plopped my drunk ass down next to Lara. “Why did you have to provoke him?”

  “It’s like one in the morning. I wasn’t thinking.” She curled her mouth up at one side and mockingly shook her head.

  Covered by black sweat shorts, she moved her legs so they mimicked mine outstretched on the coffee table. I couldn’t help but think how far we had come since the first time we’d met. She had directed her legs away from me that initial time. And now, it was almost the opposite.

  Replaying our first meeting, I offered the red Solo cup in my hand to Lara. “Drink?”

  “Neh.”

  “Neh?” I spurt out, thinking it was a funny word.

  “Not thirsty. Besides, I don’t really like beer. Why drink it if you don’t like it? I could never understand that.”

  “You don’t drink too much do you, Lar?” That certainly hadn’t changed.

  “I drink,” she sounded offended. But, she didn’t—not like ninety some percent of college kids.