Someone Like You (Blue Club Books)

by Robin Hart

  “So then I graduated.”

  Crap. Nicole didn’t know what to say and she could tell by the way Ben looked at her over his glass with expectant eyes that he’d said something of note, something that warranted response. The all-consuming question, pretend to have heard and take a lob shot at a response? Or just tell them you zoned out.

  “Wow.” Nicole chose the former.

  “I know.” Ben smiled, mostly at himself and set his glass down. “Some people don’t realize how hard it is to just finish up and leave, especially with pressure from your parents to get a different major.”

  “I haven’t finished, myself.” Nicole said.

  “Well there’s time.” Ben said magnanimously, puffing out his chest and stretching before putting his arms behind his head and leaning back on them in the chair. “You’re still young.”

  Nicole studied his face. Not a very handsome face, nothing really wrong with it either. Big forehead, smug eyebrows, a smile that looked too pleased with itself. Nothing like Sean, with his watchful, hesitant eyes, and slow smile. A smile you had to earn. A smile given to her easier than anyone else. Ben was pale, too. His skin was a bit yellow almost. His lips were thin, dark pink. His nose was a bit too thin, too long.

  “What would you like to do next?” He said, waving down a waiter for the check with clumsy hands. Hands that didn’t seem to be completely controlled, almost like the nerves only went to the second to last knuckle. She hated clumsy hands.

  “Um.” She looked around the restaurant for a clock, even though she didn’t have anything to do. She rummaged in her purse, but no luck finding a phone. “What time is it?”

  He grinned again. “Why? Somewhere you need to go?”

  “Yes.” She said. “My aunt is expecting me.”

  He took his card from the check holder. She bet that if she looked inside, she’d see a tip that wasn’t huge but made him feel like a high roller.

  “Thank you for lunch.” She said, standing and trying to avoid the arm that he tried to place on the small of her back. She was unsuccessful and he placed it there firmly to lead her out of the restaurant. She switched her purse to the other shoulder in an attempt to knock it off, but his hand stayed, and it was getting sweaty as they walked down the boardwalk back to her aunt’s home.

  He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d been a perfect gentlemen, taken her to lunch, hadn’t said anything untoward. She looked over at his face. Not so pompous, just average. Perhaps she had simply been trying to find flaws with him because of her own shame in thinking about Sean. Perhaps good guys just didn’t appeal. All of her senses told her to ditch him and run, but she didn’t trust her senses anymore. They had given the okay on people like Jake.

  “Can I just get you an ice cream?” Ben asked, finally removing his hands and sticking them in his pockets. He nodded at the stand behind them. “No harm in that right?”

  “Sure.” She said, laughing. “I’m sorry if I’ve been guarded.”

  “That’s okay.” He said. “I’m a stranger who freaked you out from the moment I swam out on the beach, then talked you into lunch as soon as you could change.” He went to the stand and ordered two cones, both strawberry. He didn’t ask what flavor she wanted.

  “Yeah.” She said, accepting the cone. “And I’m pretty picky with guys.”

  “Really?” He said. He watched her take her first lick with suddenly hot eyes. “Didn’t take long to get you to say yes to me.”

  “I’m trying to change my ways.” She said, pausing because it was uncomfortable to be watched while licking something.

  “Want to go sit on the beach and finish these?” He said, pointing to the other side of the barrier.

  “Sure.” She said. She led the way, stepping over the barrier easily. She almost laughed when he nearly lost his cone doing the same. City boy. She didn’t though, because men don’t like to be laughed at. People don’t like to be laughed at.

  Moments later though, when he dropped his cone in his lap while trying to sit down, she couldn’t help it, it burst out and she covered her mouth. And for just a second, he looked absolutely venomous, like he wanted to take her head off. But in a split second that was gone and his smile was back, he laughed with her. But just that flash was long enough to get her adrenaline running. He’s not your dad, she reminded herself, just because he’s angry, doesn’t mean he’ll hit you.

  The beach was beautiful, and she took longer than usual to sit down and join him because the sun was starting to set already. In truth their lunch had been more like dinner time wise, and now the beach was a beautiful wash of sunset hues, the sand taking on a red hue, the sun sending orange flames over the waves lighting up their crests as they rose and fell. The birds were making haunting noises in the distance as they flew low over the water, and the sky was like a Mai Tai, orange and red all bleeding together.

  “Captivating, isn’t it?” Ben asked, his eyes taking on a purple hue in the light, his lips pressed together as he tried to wipe the rest of the ice cream from his crotch. He’d thrown the rest of the cone in the sand. But he wasn’t looking at the sunset. He was looking at the beautiful, dark skinned woman next to him whose delicate profile and upturned nose were glowing in the rays of the setting sun, taking on a warm hue, like she was blushing. She looked tan, if that was possible for dark skin, and her eyes were luminous, taking on some of the orange sparks reflecting off the waves. She looked at him and he could almost forgive her for laughing, there was so much beauty there.

  But beauty is what made laughing such a sin. How dare she mock him, after everything he’d done for her today? How could she laugh at him? What had she done, when he’d done everything, swam out to save her, fed her, brought her here?

  But she sat her face in her hands in a cute way, and he noticed her delicate forearms and fingers, which rested on long legs that led to small feet. Yes, she would do. She would realize pretty quickly who should be laughed at. Like his mom. Stupid.

  She turned to smile at Ben and found him watching her with a blank face, blue eyes perfectly still, mouth neutral. The only thing putting her off was a few wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. But as soon as she caught him staring, his face changed.

  “Sorry, the ocean is really captivating.”

  “Yeah, you said that.” She said, feeling uneasy, rubbing her hands along her arms for warmth.

  “Okay.” He said, drawing with one finger in the sand. “It’s you that’s captivating. You look so beautiful watching the sunset. So caught up in it.”

  “Oh.” She said, her mouth making the shape of the word in a way that made him want her to suck him off. “I guess I do get a bit wrapped up in it.”

  “I think it’s neat.” He said, moving closer to her in the sand, till their sides touched. He put an arm around her. She didn’t stop him, though she wanted to. I’m not attracted. Not attracted. This is gross. No, what’s gross is what you are attracted to. With that thought in mind she tried to bear his arm around her. It felt like it was burning her skin. She looked at his face, so close, and wondered how she’d thought him handsome. Or maybe, he was more handsome at this distance.

  He was going to kiss her. Not unusual on the first date, especially after how much time today they’d spent together. Most of which she’d been zoned out. In her own head. And he didn’t care. But maybe that’s just how normal people date, she thought. When people don’t hit each other or rape each other. Perhaps they just bore each other. The man talks and the woman pretends to listen (or perhaps the other way around) and then they engage in physicality that validates the experience and then they go home (but right before that they may decide whether to do it again). She sighed. This kind of dating was boring.

  Ben took the sigh for one of impatience to be kissed and moved forward. His lips met hers and she felt clammy all over, despite his warmth. Nothing doing. None of the spark as when she’d kissed someone like Jake. Is this what it would be like to kiss a guy like Sean? She wondered, keeping her mouth
shut so that Ben wouldn’t get ideas about frenching. He did anyway, so she opened, because his tongue pressing on her lips was probably grosser than his tongue would be inside. Wrong, so gross. She didn’t make any effort to let him think otherwise. Went into dead fish mode. It was one she was familiar with, with her father. Except Ben wasn’t really doing anything wrong. No, the wrong person was she, the one who couldn’t feel the correct way about normal and good things. Why was everything more complicated because of Sean and his ideas on how she could change? She zoned out in her mind to the sunset, the waves, and it was like Ben wasn’t there anymore.

  Sean stood clutching his phone. When she hadn’t responded after he’d asked her about the date, he’d fretted. He’d worked out. He’d waited. Then he’d driven to her aunt’s house. When she wasn’t there, he’d decided to head to the beach. He’d watched them sit down. Seen her beautiful curly hair dancing in the wind, and then seen the jerk with the douche bag hair lean over to kiss her. And she’d let him! Sean balled up his other hand at his side, stopped himself from going out there. Well that was what she wanted. And the guy wasn’t doing anything that gave him an excuse to do something about it. Not unless she called him. He waited till they broke the kiss. Forever.

  Was that all it would have taken? Should he have just launched in and taken what he wanted to? He watched until they got up and the man walked her home, all the while in a sort of daze. Was this the good man she mentioned? Like heck he was, but there was nothing Sean could do. He watched impotently as the man kissed her cheek one more time and squeezed her hand before she pulled away to head inside. In the darkness he didn’t see that her smile was pained, that she was anxious to go in.

  No, she’d just given a stranger more than she’d ever given him.

  Chapter 9: Pain

  The clinical white practice dojang had turned yellow with age, with large green mats on which partners sparred to the smell of sweat and the sound of plastic padded feet smacking Styrofoam chest covers. Above them old record holder plaques and trophies beckoned dustily.

  Sean felt home here, across from another man who wanted what he wanted, to win. It would be decided fairly, by force, by sheer work and control. Sean wished everything was this simple, that you could get anything you wanted simply through work and perseverance, and being stronger than the other guy. He wanted to make the other guy crap his pants. He nearly accomplished it with a hard kick to the abdomen when the ref signaled the end of the match.

  “Sean, control yourself.” Nathan said, taking Sean aside. “You’re going to hurt someone, or get called for excessive force.”

  “I know.” He said. “I hope I do.”

  “This is just a practice round.” Nate waved at the ref and shepherded Sean away from the mat. The fight was over; he wasn’t letting him back in the ring. “I don’t care if you glare at me, I’m not letting you do that to the studio’s reputation just because you are having man problems.”

  Sean glared at him and pulled off his head protector and stomped outside, heavy footsteps echoing over the wooden floor accentuated by the quietness of the light footsteps of the other practicing fighters. No use looking at any of their faces as he left. Sean kept seeing the douche bag from the beach in each of his opponents. He knew beating them would only get him closer to nationals, that it wouldn’t make Nicole love him, that he couldn’t win Nicole by simply being good, the best even, but making the other guy crap himself seemed like a fine consolation.

  The sun was bright in his eyes and Sean put a hand up, then looked left and right. Ahead, across the street was a nice field, with some trees on one side, a good place to sit. Not caring that he was wearing his nicest white gi, not checking the ground to see if the grass was wet, he plopped down, then sank his face into his hands. He found it was sweaty and swiped an arm across his forehead, then used his gi when that didn’t work. He looked around. The sky was blue, the grass was plush, the field was wide, and he could see lines that would make it playable for soccer, with at least two separate playing fields marked out with painted white grass. Maybe he should have played soccer as a kid. What would he have done if Nicole hadn’t said she’d liked martial arts?

  Nothing probably. But what else about him would have been different without her? He looked down at his hands, which were calloused, his forearms, which were defined with muscles. In fact, without much concentration he could flex myriad muscles in his body, his thighs, his arms, his back, and his abs. All of that was probably from her. Perhaps good things had happened even for a bad reason. You shouldn’t make yourself into something so someone else would like you. He’d heard that a million times since being little, but the people saying it must never have loved a woman and wanted to be wanted by her.

  He picked up a piece of grass and played with it, looked at it carefully then split it down the center. He put it to his mouth and tried to whistle on it the way Nicole had shown him when they were little. He wondered if he should have just seen a shrink the minute that being a male escort for her had occurred to him. No the shrink would have told him to give up, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Leaning back on his elbows and squinting through the sun back to the practice center, he had to smile.

  He was still here, training for another national title. He had a great teacher in Nathan. Things were good at the studio. He had a fun part time job and liked his coworkers. And women liked him. If the only problem in his life was that he didn’t have a woman, he guessed that could probably be solved pretty easily. He was a good guy. What had someone said once? The way to get over a woman is to get under one? Whoever said that was an idiot, and Sean would like to punch him if he ever met him. But maybe they had something. The day was green and blue and shiny, the world meant to be lived in, and Nicole had chosen to do it with someone else. It was time to move on. He threw the blade of grass to the side and stood to go inside. Suddenly it occurred to him that he didn’t know how to choose. He’d always had his eye on one woman, one person, like the only star in the sky to guide by. He slumped back on the grass. Was it just because she’d been the easiest solution? His best friend? He rubbed his knees and thought hard. There were probably a couple of girls in the dojang, would that be a good idea? What about the girls at the club? He shook his head. He’d been so busy all these years berating Nicole for her bad taste in men that he hadn’t even considered that he himself didn’t know how to choose a girl at all.

  There’d been cute girls around. At church, the occasional partner in his classes. They’d made him feel shy and awkward, unlike Nicole who’d always made him feel instantly accepted. Perhaps he’d just been lazy? Then again, he’d heard that you were lucky to be in love with your best friend. He guessed probably not that lucky if you knew what it was like to love your best friend when they only see you as a friend.

  Then it hit him like a paper airplane to the side of the head, gentle and sharp: ask Nicole. Let her help you the way you tried to help her.

  She’ll be jealous, a little voice said inside him, surprising him. He knew it was probably true, she’d always had him to herself, and the thought made him a bit angry. So she was allowed to be with other people but he wasn’t? He’d show her. She’d made her choice. He pulled out his phone.

  “Hi Nick. You never did tell me about your date. Also, I have a favor to ask.” He sent the text and waited, by the time her reply came, he was chewing one of the pieces of grass and not even noticing it. If anyone had noticed the tall man in a gi, hunched nervously over a phone, they’d probably have laughed, but tried to make it quiet so he didn’t hear. The phone finally vibrated, signaling a text. Please let it be Nicole.

  “Hi. Date went well. I think he’s someone you’d like. What’s the favor?”

  Don’t be so sure, Sean thought, glaring daggers at the screen, as if they could somehow break through and stab sense into the ignorant person on the other side of the phone.

  “Can you help me find someone to date?” He pressed send and dropped the phone. He paced with his
hands behind his back. Why wasn’t she a faster texter? He was staring at a particularly large tree and wondering how far he could climb up it now that he was so old and heavy when the phone vibrated again and he dove for it like a starving man for a dropped donut.

  “Sure!” It said. “This is huge for you! I’m so excited. Wanna meet up?”

  Sean threw the phone at the tree. It plopped off the bark and landed in the needles and Sean palmed his face, walking over to survey the damage. The phone was fine, luckily throw-proof. His mom had bought it for him, tired of his failure to be tech savvy and therefore reachable, and she’d mentioned it was fairly durable, knowing he had a penchant for chucking things when upset. Not at people, just at the wall or a tree. He wasn’t a monster or a violent person. The Nicole thing had just taken it way too far for him, even as patient as he could be. Why was he so inconsiderable?

  He scooped the phone up and was relieved to see it still worked. He looked at the disappointing words, still on the screen, and sighed, sinking back with his back to the tree, feeling it scrape against him and wondering if he’d damaged his gi. What had he wanted her to say? No, I won’t hook you up with anyone. I want you for myself. What was this, a chick flick? He dug his fingers into his knees and exhaled. No, if that had been the case, she wouldn’t have been playing kissy face with le douche bag on the beach behind his back. No, it hadn’t been behind his back. She’d told him she had a date. He guessed that a kiss on the first date wasn’t the breach of propriety it had been for their parents, if it even had been then.