The Disappearing Girl

by Heather Topham Wood

  We could make out Jessica’s snores through her door. She sounded like a drunken sailor. Brittany’s door was firmly shut, and I was glad I lived across the hall and not next door. Kurt had slept over and, according to Brittany, he was a shouter during sex. Since the couple had seemed to be reenacting a scene from Taxicab Confessions on the way home, I could only imagine what happened once they were removed from a public place.

  Brittany got a kick out of telling me about her sexual exploits. She considered herself my teacher due to my inexperience. I’d slept with my high school boyfriend, Grant, once on prom night and one other time before we broke up and left for college. Losing my virginity was anticlimactic, and the two times I slept with Grant were forgettable. We weren’t attuned to each other’s bodies, and sex had been awkward. I decided to sleep with Grant because I felt like it was time to get rid of my virginity, not because I loved him. I suspected Grant was in the same mindset, and it made our breakup decidedly painless.

  During my time at college, I hadn’t felt a strong desire to sleep with anyone. There wasn’t enough of a spark with anyone to consider taking things to such an intimate physical level. What happened with Cameron was a fluke. His confidence and sexiness didn’t just ignite a spark—it had me ready to burst into flames.

  Danielle bypassed me and opened our refrigerator. Downing a bottle of water in a couple of gulps, she heaved a huge sigh. Her long blond hair was mussed and she looked about as hung-over as I was feeling. Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out another water bottle and passed it to me. I pressed the bottle against my temples to ease my worsening headache.

  “You should eat something; it’ll make you feel better. Want me to make you some toast?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “I don’t think I can keep anything down.”

  Danielle shrugged. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What happened with Cameron last night?”

  I bit my lip as I thought about the night before. When I relived it, I kept returning to our first kiss. It had electrified my body and filled me with a deep longing. The connection couldn’t have been completely one-sided; Cameron’s desire had been unmistakable since the second he saw me at the bar.

  “We hung out and went to a few more bars. He was a lot of fun and very sweet. I gave him my number, but who knows if he’ll actually call.” The crack in my voice betrayed me. Pretending I didn’t like Cameron wasn’t going to fool anyone. I yawned and stretched. “I think I’m going to veg out in front of the TV today and try to recover from last night.”

  I returned to my room and bundled up in my burgundy comforter. I was shivering, and I felt iciness circulating through my veins. My stomach growled, but I disregarded the noise. Instead, I turned on my small TV set and tried to divert my attention from my bodily needs.

  I dozed for a couple of hours. Finally, I rallied enough to get out of bed and go in search of my cell phone. It had been left off the charger all night and had probably died hours before. I found it in my purse and attempted to turn it on without any success. But after a few minutes plugged into the wall charger, it came to life.

  I held my breath when I saw a text from an unknown number: I had a great time tonight and wanted to make sure you got home safely. Cameron

  The message was time stamped three in the morning. I swooned slightly as I imagined him going back home and still having me on his mind. I wrote several drafts of a reply text before I was satisfied. I had fun too. Thanks for checking up on me. I’ve been spending the day recovering from last night.

  Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang. I dove for it, but hesitated a second before answering. “Hello.”

  “Hi, it’s Cameron.” His voice was rich and smooth. Butterflies fluttered in a frenzy within my belly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got run over by a truck,” I confessed. “I’m obviously a lightweight when it comes to drinking.”

  “I’m guessing you’re not feeling up to meeting for a drink then,” he teased. “Are you free for coffee?”

  I had forgotten the rules of dating. Would it look bad if I agreed? Was I supposed to pretend I was busy and give him more of a chase? It was evident he wanted to see me again as much as I needed to see him, so I decided to avoid the games.

  “Coffee sounds good. Where do you want to meet?”

  We settled on getting together at the Starbucks in town. Since we were meeting in an hour, I had to rush to shower and decide on what to wear. As I hurried into the hallway, Brittany was coming out of the bathroom.

  “Hey,” she said sleepily. It was close to three in the afternoon and Brittany appeared ready to go back to bed already.

  “Rough morning?”

  “Ugh, I didn’t get to sleep until six. I thought alcohol was supposed to kill a guy’s sex drive, not turn him into an insatiable beast,” Brittany complained. Once again, I was thankful for being a heavy sleeper. “Don’t mind me if I’m walking a little funny today.”

  I shook my head in disbelief and smiled. “As charming as it is to hear about your sex life, I have to run. I’m meeting Cameron for coffee.”

  Brittany waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “He can’t get enough of you, huh? Maybe he’ll help you get rid of that pesky v-card.”

  “Too bad I’m not a virgin.”

  “It’s been three years, Kayla. I think you’re considered a virgin again after that long,” Brittany said drily. “Was he a good kisser?”

  “An amazing kisser. It makes me wonder if a boy has ever kissed me properly.”

  Playfully, Brittany pulled on a strand of my long hair. “You’re so cute sometimes. I want all the details of your date later.”

  My indecision over what to wear made me ten minutes late to meet Cameron. My black dress the night before had left little to the imagination, but in the light of day, I didn’t have the same confidence. The desire to cover up my body was too ingrained into my consciousness. The gray sweater I chose was pretty, but oversized. It would hide my flaws from him. The outfit was completed with a pair of jeans and boots.

  Despite the cold, Cameron was standing outside the Starbucks when I arrived. His smile was warm when I hopped out of my car and approached him. He nodded toward my car. “I like your Jeep.”

  I appreciated the compliment. I loved my car. In the summer, I had the top off as much as the weather permitted. I’d speed down the highway with the wind flying through my hair, drowning out my mother’s voice in my head telling me how much I’d never measure up. My father had gone with me to pick it out a few months before he died, and my Jeep made me feel like we were still connected somehow.

  “You look like you’re freezing,” I told him. “You didn’t have to wait out here for me.”

  “I’m just glad you’re here,” he said, and he kissed the top of my head. “I was beginning to worry you were going to stand me up.”

  The idea seemed laughable. Cameron wasn’t the type of guy girls stood up. “Not a chance.”

  He took me by the hand and led me into the Starbucks. I liked how comfortable I felt holding hands with him. It gave me the sense we’d known each other for much longer than we had.

  My thoughts of Cameron were momentarily halted when the aroma of pastries and coffee assaulted my nostrils. My eyes were drawn to the display cabinet, stocked full with cookies, muffins, and cupcakes. My mouth began to water and my stomach rumbled in protest. It was after four o’clock and the only thing I’d eaten for the day was a handful of saltine crackers.

  Cameron was talking. “Do you want to grab us a table and I’ll order?” My head bobbed up and down mechanically. “What would you like?”

  I wanted to drown in food, eat until I couldn’t stand another bite. However, if I wanted to keep losing weight, I would have to call on my willpower to help me avoid the fatty treats. “A green tea with one Splenda.”

  Green tea had no calories and was said to have fat-burning qualities. These were the types of things I discovered online as I became obsessed with losing weig
ht. Sometimes at night, instead of doing my homework, I would scour the online forums for weight-loss tips and tricks. I’d started eating more low-calorie bread products since I found they kept me fuller, for longer, than fruits and veggies. I’d also taken to chewing gum, since I read mindless chewing could cut down on the cravings for food.

  The worst part of starving myself was the side effects. Exercise was unimaginable because of my low energy level, and I’d begun carrying around a bottle of pain relievers to treat the headaches I was prone to.

  After double-checking to make sure I didn’t want anything else, Cameron went to stand in line. I watched him remove his jacket while he waited to order. His t-shirt gave me a glimpse of his well-developed biceps. He wasn’t beefy like Kurt, but instead had just the right amount of definition. I dreamed up a visual of what he looked like shirtless, and it made me smile. My curiosity was also piqued over where he could be hiding a tattoo.

  As if he could sense my eyes on him, he spun to face me. His eyes glittered when he caught me checking him out. Before he stepped forward to order, he winked in my direction.

  Five minutes later, my hands were trembling as he handed me my tea. The shaking was from both my nerves and how chilly I felt. I was constantly battling the cold that had settled in my bones. My roommates had yelled at me for cranking up the heat, but no matter how high the temperature in the dorm, I could never get warm enough.

  “How much do I owe you?” I asked and dug into my purse for my wallet.

  “My treat. I bought us a chocolate chip cookie to share, too.” He put the cookie on the table between us. My eyes widened involuntarily at the sight. Cameron noticed my expression and asked, “Are you not a fan of chocolate chip cookies?”

  My laugh was unnaturally high and rang false. “Of course I love chocolate chip cookies. Who doesn’t?” In fact, I had consumed an entire box of Entenmann’s Chocolate Chip Cookies in a single sitting during a recent binge. To erase the questioning expression on his face, I broke off a piece of the cookie and shoved it into my mouth. Hurriedly, I changed the subject to stop talking about food. “I’m really glad you called.”

  “You sound surprised I did. What, did you expect me to do the guy thing and wait three days?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to think.” I shrugged. “I’m pretty clueless when it comes to guys.”

  Cameron broke off a piece of cookie and chewed thoughtfully. “I find that very surprising.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re very sweet and a knockout. I couldn’t actually believe my luck that you’re single.”

  I contemplated his words. I tried to find the sarcasm in his tone, but it was non-existent. His cerulean blue eyes were deadly serious as he stared at me from across the table. I wasn’t Brittany or the twins; they were the ones who guys flirted with and asked out. I was the fat, awkward friend who just came along for the ride.

  I cleared my throat and tactfully avoided responding to his compliment. “What about you? Were you dating anyone recently?”

  “No,” he said. “I met this one girl at Trenton College, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my head.”

  I smiled broadly. Cameron was charismatic, and I liked how he was flirty without coming off as creepy. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

  “Only when it matters,” he remarked. “But to answer your question, I haven’t dated anyone lately. I had a girlfriend for about a year, but we broke up more than six months ago.”

  “Was it serious?”

  “Not really.” He shrugged. “She was leaving for grad school in Massachusetts and neither of us really wanted to do the long distance thing. It wasn’t a messy breakup or anything, we’re still friends.”

  “Are you friends with all of your exes?”

  Leaning back into his chair, his expression turned sheepish. “What can I say? I’m a nice guy.” The cookie had provoked my hunger and I stared at the last piece longingly. Cameron followed my gaze and chuckled. “Please, finish the cookie. Should I get us another one?”

  The idea was horrifying. I was already concocting ways in my head to get rid of the calories from the piece of cookie I’d already eaten. I shook my head vigorously. I could tell he was waiting for me to finish the cookie, prompting me to polish it off in a single bite.

  “What about you?” he asked, as he took a long sip of his coffee. “Any sordid details I should know about your past relationships?”

  There were sordid details about my life, but not about my relationship history. “No, I had a boyfriend my senior year of high school, but we broke up before we both left for college. I’ve dated a couple of boys from campus, but nothing serious.”

  “Your family lives in Red Bank?”

  “Yes, my mother and sister. My father…” I trailed off and fiddled with the hem of my sweater before continuing. “My father died a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. His eyes held the question most people had when I brought up my father’s death, but Cameron was being too polite to ask it.

  “Thank you,” I replied sincerely. “It was sudden. He had a massive heart attack while mowing the lawn. I found him in the backyard …”

  Tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t think about that, I scolded myself silently. Shutting my eyes, I saw my father slumped over, face down on the freshly cut grass. His brown hair was wet with perspiration and stuck to his cheeks, concealing his face. I screamed when I fell before him and wrenched him onto his back. My hands pounded his chest, doing CPR, frantically trying to bring my father back to life. A neighbor saw us and dialed 911. EMT workers pushed me aside while I continued in vain to get his heart beating again. My father was pronounced dead at the scene.

  I never permitted myself the time to dwell on that day and what I had seen. My objective had been to focus on only the happy memories of my father. His death was too painful, the reason I couldn’t bring myself to visit the cemetery since the funeral. He was in his early fifties when he died, and I’d mistakenly believed we would have decades together. He was supposed to give me away at my wedding and be a doting grandfather to my kids.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Cameron said and scooted over to me. He intertwined his fingers with mine. I studied our hands and waited for the tumultuous feelings inside me to pass.

  “I’m sorry. It’s hard to talk about my dad. We were close and his death still feels raw. He was so young.” I sniffed as the tears continued to threaten to spill over.

  Since his death, my father had grown to mythic proportions in my mind. Everything was better before he died. My mother’s narcissistic tendencies and obsession with beauty were kept in check. My father treated her like the queen she imagined herself to be and limited the criticism from her Lila and I were forced to endure. She’d never been the affectionate type with us, but my father more than made up for it.

  “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” he said kindly. I shyly peered up at him and found myself mesmerized by his eyes. They held me in place, and I wanted to disappear inside of them.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t picture comforting a crying girl when you invited me out for coffee,” I mumbled. “Are you close to your parents?”

  His expression suddenly turned distant. Then I blinked, and the hardness was gone. I wondered if it was ever there in the first place. “Yes, they’re great. I try to visit once a week. They pull out all the stops for me when I’m there. I get a huge home-cooked meal, my laundry done, and enough leftovers to last a week.”

  “A mama’s boy?” I joked.

  His eyes were humorless. “I guess so,” he responded, but something sounded off about his tone. I couldn’t tell whether the mood change was from talking about his parents or my teary outburst.

  As I took the final sip of my green tea, I said, “I have a presentation tomorrow for class, so I should probably get going to prepare.”

  He nodded with understanding, most likely realizing how embarrassed I was about
crying in front of him. Cameron was too unnerving. He was making me open up and talk about things I had buried deep inside myself. Being with him was effortless, and I was afraid to develop that kind of connection with someone I barely knew.

  Clearing off our table, he held out my jacket while I slipped into it and then put on his own coat. I was silent when he walked me to my Jeep.

  He broke the silence. “I would really like to see you again.”

  “I haven’t scared you off yet?” I said half-jokingly.

  “No way,” he asserted. “Your father died, of course you’re going to get upset talking about him.”

  I broke away from his intense stare and surveyed the parking lot. “Are you parked close by?”

  Cameron pointed to a car in the rear of the parking lot. My jaw dropped as I turned back to face him. “Are you serious?”

  “Is it a deal breaker? Not everyone likes it,” he said with a chuckle. I was relieved to see his mood lighten. Something about our conversation had made him uncomfortable and I couldn’t pinpoint what had bothered him so much. Since we’d only met, I figured spending time together would allow him to open up in the same way I did.

  “Are you kidding me? What’s not to like?” I demanded incredulously. “Can I check it out?”

  “Of course.”

  We crossed the parking lot and I stared in awe at his metallic blue Mustang. It looked like a model from the mid-1960s, but it had been restored to its former glory. The paint looked fresh, and it sparkled in the sunlight. “What year is it?”

  “A 1967,” he replied. Giving me a sidelong glance, he remarked, “I bought it last year after talking to the owner at a classic car show.”

  He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in and got comfortable in the black leather bucket seat. It was a two-door model, and the interior was as pristine as the bodywork. Cameron climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine revved to life, and I found the loud rumble of the motor satisfying.

  “Wow, you have the best car ever,” I sighed. I grazed my fingers lovingly over the dashboard.