by C. C. Brown
A few minutes later, Chelsea finally strolled down the stairs, looking just as beautiful as she had when I'd left her. Hunter stood, pulled out a bouquet of flowers, and handed them to Chelsea. How had I missed those? He walked over and kissed her deeply. After a few jealous seconds brewed inside of me, I strolled over and took the flowers from her. I walked into the kitchen to place them into a vase. By the time I returned, they had pulled away from one another and were talking to Chase.
"We'll be at Chateau for dinner, so if you need me, fuck off," Chelsea joked. She laughed as she patted Hunter's shoulder. I laughed just because it was typical Chelsea humor--nice and crude. "What are you two doing tonight?" Chelsea asked, her voice full of innuendo. Chase laughed, but I interjected to get her to shut up and leave.
"Chase is getting a tour of the place, then we are going to get our hands dirty in some greasy Gino's pizza. Making you jealous yet?" I asked.
Chase and Hunter laughed, as Hunter grabbed Chelsea by the hand and led her to the front door.
"Have a good time you two," I called after them and heard the door close.
"So, you've seen the living room. Come take a look at our kick ass kitchen," Chase's face looked equally as impressed as the first time I'd seen it. We left the kitchen and made our way upstairs. I made sure to point out all of the paintings and décor that Chelsea had picked up at jaw dropping prices. He laughed and remarked that he wouldn't have expected anything less. I showed him my bedroom and on-suite bathroom, since the condo housed two master bedrooms.
"Quite an upgrade, huh?" he joked, referring to the living arrangements we had in our on-campus apartment.
"You think? This is what happens when you unleash Chelsea Peters to find you a home," I laughed. "Call Gino's and order a double pepperoni, extra sauce, deep dish, please?" Chase mocked surprise, but took out his cell phone and ordered the pizza as I marched us back downstairs to the living room.
Forty minutes later we were watching Terminator and stuffing our faces with some of the best pizza in all of San Diego. Hanging out with Chase was always easy and I was thankful for his friendship. I noticed that he kept looking over at me and smiling, but it wasn't that same awestruck smile he had first given me when he'd seen my new hair makeover. Rather than allow the silence to fester between us, I finally made him spill it.
"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I asked, coming across blunt and leaving no room for loop holes.
"I just think you look great, that's all," he replied, but I could tell there was more that he wanted to say.
I put my pizza down on my plate and wiped my mouth with my napkin. I looked at Chase with eyes full of suspicion, although I had an idea what was running through his mind.
"Chase, I don't need, nor do I want, your pity," I spouted.
"What are you talking about? I'm not giving you any pity." I eyed him accusingly, and he relented a bit. "Okay, I'm just worried about you, that's all."
"Why are you worried about me? I'm a big girl. I got knocked down, and I'm getting back up. Nothing to worry about." I didn't want to be the charity case amongst all of my friends. It wasn't a spot that I wanted to occupy, and I didn't want them thinking they needed to cater to me, or go out of their way to make sure that I didn't fall apart.
"I just know that you loved Jason, and it's only been a week since I saw you looking totally dejected at the airport."
"Well, I am doing much better. I have a new home, a new job, and a new me. I'm ready to conquer the world, so please, stop worrying about me." I smiled, trying to get him to see that I wasn't the basket case that I may have earlier appeared to be.
"True. So what's the deal with the job anyway?"
"Wednesday," I managed to say, with a bite of pizza just going into my mouth. "Orientation and all of that grand stuff. What are the plans for you?" I wanted to shift the conversation away from me and onto him. My life wasn't all that impressive at the moment, and Chase had some promising things coming up in his.
"I'm going on a couple of interviews for summer internships. Then it's back to school for one last semester before I can finally move up in the world and be a graduate like you." He gave me a mock look of admiration and I could do nothing but laugh and throw my greasy, crumpled napkin at him.
"Where are you interviewing?"
"San Diego News Nine, Bartlett's Brewery…" I lowered my eyes in full on suspicion.
"Where else?" I questioned in my most demanding tone.
"Bradley Oil Company."
I could have passed out. The room went dark, leaving only Chase and me, sitting and staring at one another. Fire was brewing inside of my chest, and I wanted to charge like the raging bull that I felt I had suddenly turned into. How could he apply for a job where Jason ran the show? Was he insane, or just looking for a death sentence?
"Why would you ever apply there?" I asked, my voice almost a shriek.
"In my defense, I applied for the internship before this shit with you and Jason went down. They're looking for a few interns in their communications department. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s a great resume builder if I can land it."
Rage would have been an understatement for how I felt in that moment, but soon after, a feeling of tranquility came over me. I wasn't sure how Chase had even made it to the round of interviews--maybe Jason and I were on our high note and he wanted to extend an olive branch. Now that we were done, he probably saw no need and would go back to hating Chase and that would be the end of that. I wanted Chase to do well in life, but working for Bradley was a step too far. I wasn't even sure that he would like it once he got in--if he got in.
"Have you thought this through? Like, if you get picked up at Bradley, what it would be like working for Jason every day?" I wanted the severity of this decision to sink in for him.
"I've thought about that and that's why Bradley is last out of the three. Unfortunately, it's also the best option for a long term, stable career." He stopped and rubbed his hands through his hair, visibly annoyed. "Knowing how much of an asshole Jason is, he probably knows I'm still coming in for my interview and will just make it painful for me, but I'm going anyway."
There was nothing more for me to say. As much as I hated the idea of Chase working for Jason, his life was his life. If that meant working for Bradley, then so be it. Chase was brilliant. He knew what he would be setting himself up for, but he wanted to forge ahead and who was I to stop him?
"I'm just being an ass, I'm sorry. I know wherever you end up, you'll kick ass." I reached over and gave him a tight, genuine hug. I didn't want to be the black cloud hovering over his head when he had so much to look forward to.
"Thanks, Cara. I know it looks idiotic on the surface, but it could be something really good for me."
"I know," I tossed another slice of pizza onto his plate. "When is your interview?" "Tomorrow actually, 10a.m. Bright and early."
I laughed. "Bright and early? Get it together, college boy. You'll be dying if you think that's early."
Chase snickered and threw his napkin at me. The light feel to our conversation was relaxing--unlike the tense atmosphere we had just managed to escape. I was thrilled that through everything that had happened with Jason, Chase was still a good friend to me. At this point in my life that was all I needed.
<>
Somehow we managed to fall asleep. We were sprawled out on the floor with the greasy pizza box in between us. The blue luminescent light from the TV was left glowing on a practically empty room. Suddenly, the door whisked open and Chelsea came galloping in, her silver wedges clanking drastically hard against our beautiful wood floors. Chase and I both jumped up in unison, wondering if something was wrong. Our quick awakening must have reeked suspicion, because Chelsea stopped her trot and stared down at us. I sat up, folding my legs over Indian style, and Chase lifted himself up, balancing his weight on his elbow.
"Are you okay, Chels? Everything alright?" I asked, afraid of what she was going to say.
"Oh, I a
m fan-fucking-tastic. Check this out!" She held out her left hand and a large diamond sparkled from her ring finger.
I jumped up from my sitting position and ran over to get a closer look. Chelsea was shaking as tears streamed down her face. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!"
Hunter came strolling in the door, carrying two bouquets of mixed white and red roses. He sat them down on the kitchen counter and moved over to the living room with the three of us.
"Congrats, man," Chase said, shaking Hunter's hand and giving him the guy hug.
I hugged Chelsea and could feel the excitement brewing inside of her. She and Hunter had been dating for so long. We all knew that marriage was in their future, but Hunter hadn't mentioned anything--and Chelsea hadn't alluded to the possibility of anything either.
"So spill it, you two. How did it happen?" I asked, wiping away a stray tear. I couldn't be happier for a more deserving couple.
Hunter smiled. "Let her tell it--".
"Well, you know Chateau is only one of the most romantic restaurants in all of San Diego County. So when we got there, we were taken to the back private dining room that Hunter had reserved--" Chelsea stopped and beamed at him, rubbing her hand over his. "Anyway, these beautiful roses were sitting on the table and the champagne was chilling on ice, waiting for us. Well, we ate and chatted-- and reminisced. When it was time for dessert, Hunter said he had my favorite lemon meringue pie made especially for me. The waiter came out with it covered on a serving tray and placed in front of me. When the waiter removed the cover, the ring was sitting on top of my slice, next to the full pie." She stopped to wipe away the newfound tears that were now rolling down her perfectly blushed cheeks.
I found myself sitting there with an idiot's grin plastered on my face. "What was the significance of the pie?"
"The full pie was next to the slice, and the slice represented Chelsea completing my life," Hunter chimed in. Chelsea leaned over and planted a deeply emotional kiss on his lips.
I looked over at Chase who sat with the same idiotic grin on his face that had overtaken me. It was sweet to hear about two people, who truly loved one another, make the ultimate commitment to each other. I not only saw the love that had developed between Hunter and Chelsea, I felt it, too.
"What are you two doing here?" I asked, curious as to why they weren't off alone somewhere.
"I had to tell my best friend. I also needed to grab some clothes. Don't worry, we're off to Hunter's tonight." Chelsea answered back. "By the way, did I interrupt anything when I burst in here?" She eyed both Chase and me speculatively.
"No, you didn't," I said. "We we're actually knocked out on the floor."
"Okay. Chelsea tore out of the kitchen like a tornado and Hunter quickly followed behind her.
I stood and walked to the fridge for a couple of sodas. Chase and I sat at the table drinking and chatting.
"I'm so happy for her. Hunter is a good guy," he said, then burped loudly after devouring half of his soda in one large gulp. I kicked his foot under the table, grossed out by his lack of manners.
"Yeah, she is very deserving," I added. Thoughts of my own chaotic, non-existent love life crept back up in the fore front. Chase must have noticed the change in mood because he grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye, smiling another one of those sympathetic smiles.
"It’ll happen for you one day. Any guy would be lucky to have you. You just have to open up again."
His words hit me.
I gave him a very awkward grin, and, stood and walked back over to the sofa.
"I didn't mean to say anything hurtful, Cara. I just want you know that you are a great girl, and you deserve a great guy," Chase stammered, trying to maintain the positive vibe we had been producing most of the evening.
"I know, but I'm not ready to date anyone right now. You can understand that, right?"
"Of course I can. I just want you to know I'm here."
I smiled. "I know you are."
Chelsea and Hunter came clunking down the stairs.
"I'll see you on Friday Cara," she yelled.
I made my way to the door where she and Hunter were heading. We hugged and she rubbed her hands through my newly chopped hair. I hugged Hunter and saw them out of the condo.
"I guess I better get going, too," Chase said as we stood near the door. "Wish me luck tomorrow-- I'm damn sure I'm going to need it"
I laughed but once again felt that nagging tug in my stomach.
"Knock 'em dead," I managed to say, trying hard to put conviction behind it.
"Oh I wish I could," he chuckled.
We hugged and Chase held on a little too long. When he pulled away, he kissed my check, then turned and walked out to his truck.
I shut the door with mixed emotions.
I was over the moon for Chelsea and Hunter, but felt a little sick in the stomach for Chase. I knew Chase thought this was an incredible opportunity for him, but I was suspicious about Jason's motives. Why would he put him through to this round?
I also wasn't ready to jump into a relationship with anyone. I knew that even though Chase was a good friend, he wanted to be so much more--and I had to make sure to keep that line between us extremely obvious. I had learned my lesson about jumping into things too quickly.
Chapter 4
Tuesday morning I drove up to North County to visit with my parents. Pink Floyd blared into my ears as I desperately tried to drown out the sickening thoughts I had of Chase sitting down with Jason, being emotionally tortured for an hour, then kicked to the curb. Thoughts of their encounter flooded my sleepless night as I tried to see the positive in the situation. I was dumbfounded as to how it was even remotely justifiable on either end.
The wind swept through my car, and blew my new blowout in all directions as I loudly sang along to the lyrics of Wish You Were Here. The irony of the person weighing heavily on my mind and the lyrics of the song were not lost on me. I just tried my best to sing so loud that I couldn't hear my thoughts.
Pulling into my parents' driveway, I was shocked to find Ryan's car sitting there--he should have been at work. I gathered my purse and walked up to the front door, pulling out my key to let myself into the house.
Walking in to sudden silence, all eyes honed on me sending awkward air that choked the life out of the room. I was painfully aware, due to their failed attempts to hide their conversation, that I was the topic being discussed.
"Well hello to you all," I waved my hand through the air, sarcasm laced in my statement and a scowl plastered on my face. No one said anything. Finally my mom jumped up, rushing over to hug me, then she pulled back, running her fingers through my hair.
"What did you do to your hair, Gorgeous?"
For some reason, hearing her call me gorgeous sent an arctic chill down my spine. Even though my mom had called me that long before Jason ever entered my life, the name was now associated with him and it was as unwelcome as rotten eggs. I tried my hardest to give her a sincere smile, and puffed my hair while sarcastically asking, "You like it?"
My dad and Ryan walked over and gave me such incredulous stares that stepping away was the only thing to do. I felt like a caged animal and I needed to get some space. Finally, my dad spoke.
"What's with the new look, Cars?" His eyebrows scrunched, meeting in the middle.
"I just wanted something new. I'm starting my job tomorrow, and figured this would be the beginning of the new me." My voice was strong and firm. I didn't need my family looking at me like a lost puppy on the side of the road, silently begging for love and affection.
It didn't matter because my mom lunged forward and hugged me. "A break-up makeover--I'm so sorry, Gorgeous." Call it woman's or mother's intuition, but my mom had me pegged. True enough, I did want a new look for work, but Jason's shell shocking revelation had me wanting to scrub the metaphoric filth away from myself, and my mom saw right through my charade.
"Mom, let's be serious here. I love my new hair and I wish you all would stop
looking at me like I just went bald." My irritation was shining through.
"Sorry, Cars. It's just so…different. It does look nice on you, though," my dad added, trying hard to be reassuring without offending.
Ryan never said anything; he just kept giving me narrow eyed glances. I punched him in the shoulder as I walked by him and into the kitchen.
My mom had set up a breakfast feast and I was starving. We sat around the table, stuffing our faces and making small talk, but I was acutely aware of the unspoken words hovering around the table, and just wanted the conversation over with.
"So how is the new condo, Cars?" Ryan asked, his gaze on me still questioning.
"It's nice. Chelsea really knows how to spruce up a place."
"Sorry I haven't been down to see it, I've been swamped with work. Mila says it's really nice, though."
Mila. The thought of Mila keeping her mouth shut and not running back to Ryan to spill every detail of our day at the salon was impressive. True enough, she had helped plan my surprise party, but my new look was no surprise, and I thought it would have slipped from her lips the moment she'd left us. Kudos to Mila for not spinning this into some sordid story of her own, or forgetting all together. Either way, I was proud of her.
"Look, I know why you guys wanted to have breakfast. Why else would Ryan and Dad take the day off work? Yes, Jason and I are done and, no, I'm not going to crumble because of it."
Three sets of eyes looked around the table at one another, each gauging who would be the next person to speak. I acted as if I didn't care who spoke and continued eating my breakfast.
"You've been avoiding us. I've been worried about you, Cars," my dad spoke up. "I talked to you once and you swore you were okay, but I knew you were anything but. I didn't want to suffocate you, but I've been worried and now you come home looking completely different. I think this break-up has affected you more than you are willing to admit."
My mom stood, staring her somber-filled eyes at me. I didn't want to cry. I was done crying, so I used the best coping mechanism that I had. I played tough.