by Monica Rossi
She eyed herself in the mirror, the calf length gauzy skirt, tank top, and sandals looked pretty casual. Casual enough to go to a pizza place but she also felt ‘dressed’ enough for a first date. If that’s what this was.
Her mind had kept running over and over how it had felt to have Owen touching her. Maybe she was just starved for attention, maybe there was really a connection between them, or maybe it had just been a really long time since she’d been touched. The memory of his arms around her, his hands on her, sent shivers of longing through her, and she’d been replaying it over and over in her head since she’d left his studio.
As she’d tossed and turned the night before trying to find the solace of sleep, a solace she’d retreated to often in the past few months, giving her a few hours away from the pain, her thoughts kept returning to that moment he’d stepped away from her and how it could have played out differently. She could have pulled him back, pressed her lips to his and lost herself in sensation. She could have pushed him up against the wall and ravished him like he was a shy fair maiden. She giggled at the thought and the sound surprised her. It wasn’t one she’d heard in a long time. But she also hadn’t felt anything other than numbness in a long time either.
And she was definitely feeling something. Need. It had blossomed inside her suddenly and taken over.
She pushed the pile of clothes out of the way and flopped down on her bed. She was going to have to call him and cancel or she’d probably end up ripping her clothes off and throwing herself at him and begging him to take her. She rolled her eyes. She’d never been overly sex hungry even as a hormonal teenager, it just wasn’t something that had occupied too much of her time. Of course she’d liked guys and wanted their attention but sex was just an afterthought, something that was a fun perk of having a boyfriend, but not a reason to get all bent out of shape. It was a take it or leave it type of past time. She’d never felt the compulsion to be with someone so strongly before.
No she was going to go, and she was going to let the night take her wherever it would. She wanted to feel something other than loss for a while. She wanted to anticipate the kiss at the end of the date, or maybe even more. She wanted to be distracted, and Owen seemed like he’d be a more than suitable distraction for a while.
She eyed the alarm clock on the bedside table, she still had a few hours before she needed to leave. Unless she wanted to look like a crazy stalker person and wait outside his door. But she didn’t want to lay there working herself up into a rabid frenzy, mind tumbling over how nice he’d looked in his pajama bottoms, how the muscles in his arms had worked each time he moved, how smooth and taunt his tanned skin was, and how his hair brushed his neck in places she’d like to brush her lips.
No. That wasn’t going to be any good. She had to get up and do something. Hopping off her bed she looked around. The little cottage was a mess. No, it was worse than a mess, it was nasty.
The bedroom floor was covered in dirty clothes and damp towels. And the rest of the beach house was littered with old half empty cups and paper wrappers from past fast food purchases. The little kitchenette was a graveyard of cardboard boxes that had once contained microwave dinners and the trash can was overflowing onto the floor.
How had she let it get like this? She’d always been so tidy before. The effort to clean just hadn’t seemed worth it to her. When every movement was like lugging around a ton of weight, any excess chores got left by the wayside.
At the moment, however, she had surplus energy she needed to burn off. Maybe she could release some sexual tension by washing dishes and taking out the trash. Her mouth quirked, that didn’t sound very satisfying, but it was better than lying around making herself even more frustrated with thoughts of a certain someone’s glorious abs rippling in the morning light.
She peeled off the tank top and skirt and hung them over the standing mirror in the corner, changing back into her grubby old Hanes tee-shirt and cut off sweatpants, the clothes she’d spent most of the summer in, and started hanging up clean clothes and throwing the dirty ones in the laundry basket.
When was the last time she’d done laundry? It was lucky that she’d brought almost everything she owned with her or she wouldn’t have had anything to wear. She actually had no intention of going back to school so she hadn’t left much at the apartment she’d shared with two other girls. It had been three other girls until Felicia had died.
Going back to pack had been bad enough, she couldn’t imagine having to live there again. They’d lived together in that apartment since they’d graduated high school and it just held too many memories, too many firsts. Her parent’s house was the same way. Every room, every item held a piece of Felicia that assaulted her with a memory at every turn.
That’s why she’d come to Charleston. It had been one of Felicia’s favorite places and they’d shared memories here but it wasn’t as hard. She felt like she could still hold onto her sister by being in a place that she loved without the constant reminder of what she was missing.
The little beach house she had rented wasn’t one they’d stayed in together before, but it’s one Felicia would have loved, with its quaint style and Charleston themed décor. Palmetto trees were in abundant supply on everything from the knobs of the kitchen cabinets to the rug that greeted you at the door. And, of course, it wouldn’t be complete without paintings of the Battery during a storm and the Cooper River Bridge. But it wasn’t so much those things that Felicia would have loved, it was looking out at the view from the bay window that showed the gray waves of the ocean crashing in the distance. It was walking down the road, greeting fellow vacationers or flirting with local surfers, it was standing on the balcony at night with friends and some kind of fruity drink, laughing. It was all the things Melissa wasn’t doing.
She pulled another trash bag out of from under the kitchen cabinet, feeling rebuked. How was she supposed to do all those things when she was so utterly devoid of feeling? How could she enjoy a beautiful view if the other half of herself was missing? How could she enjoy laughing and drinking when she was alone?
You don’t have to be, the little voice in her head, who she liked to pretend was Felicia, said. It was true. She didn’t have to be alone. Her friend, Tracey, was just a phone call and a cab ride away. She’d been there for weeks and hadn’t thought to call her once.
Maybe I will, she told herself as she shoved a paper McDonald’s bag into the already overflowing trash can. No matter how tonight goes, tomorrow I’ll call Tracey and we’ll get together, she promised. Maybe they’d go to a movie, or to a party, or just sit around her grungy dorm room and talk. It felt good to plan to do something and she realized that up until this point she’d just been drifting through her days without a purpose.
Melissa eyed the newly cleared of trash kitchen and sighed. It was going to be a lot of work to dig out of the hole she’d sunk into, but starting tonight she was going to try.
⋆⋆⋆
The clock told her she only had thirty minutes to get downtown to meet Owen. She looked at herself in dismay, she’d lost track of time while she was cleaning and now she was a mess. Her hair was wild and frazzled, she hadn’t put her make-up nor her clothes on, and she hadn’t even called for a cab yet.
She could still call and cancel. Enjoy her newly cleaned space and a movie, maybe even run down to the coffee house and grab a cup of something frothy. The couch looked so inviting without any books, magazines, or random throw blankets strewn all over it. She could settle into it in her most comfortable old tee-shirt and sleep shorts and it she wouldn’t have to worry about acting like a fool in front of the hottest guy she’d ever met.
It would be pretty skeezy to cancel this late but she could do it.
NO! She told herself firmly, she was going no matter how nervous she was, nor matter how awkward or out of place she was going to feel. She had to go. Even if he turned out to be an asshole who talked about himself all night or picked his nose, or if he wasn’t any of those thin
gs and was completely perfect but he turned out not to be interested in her, because she had to try. She had to try to live even if Felicia couldn’t. The thought caught her off guard and she sucked in a breath, waiting for the pain in her gut to subside.
Felicia didn’t try, she just died without fighting, but Melissa was still alive and she had to start acting that way.
She looked up at the ceiling letting the tears that had welled up in her eyes trickled down her cheeks as she took a few calming breaths.
I’m going to try, not for you Felicia, but for me. She picked up her phone called her usual taxi company. Looking a hot mess or not, she was going on a date tonight and she was going to try.
Despite her fears, she managed to make herself somewhat presentable before the cab got there, but she should have just brought all of her make up with her. The ride from Folly Beach to downtown had taken forty five minutes. As they sat in traffic Melissa wished she’d programed Owen’s number into her phone because she was she he was going to think she’d stood him up.
Finally arriving at his house, a full hour late, she rang the doorbell, nerves jittering away inside her. It took him a few minutes but when he answered the door Melissa was left almost speechless.
How could someone who she’d already seen half naked cause her to lose all train of thought fully clothed? His shaggy hair was still wild, but she could tell it had been styled, and his tanned skin against the white of his shirt stood out healthy and beautiful, and then he smiled at her, those dimples flashing again and she had to swallow hard. This was going to be a long night.
“Hey, I thought you’d changed your mind,” he said as she stood there gaping at him.
“I, uh, well, the traffic,” she stuttered.
“Yeah, it’s rough on a weekend night. Which is why it’s nice to live right downtown. You can walk everywhere.”
She nodded, at a complete loss for words. This talking thing used to be easier.
“But there’s no beach downtown,” he continued, “I’d love to be able to wake up every morning and go for a swim without having to drive down to the beach.”
“It’s nice,” she offered lamely, not that she’d woken up early for a morning swim since she’d been there.
“So, where do you feel like going? Tommy Condon’s, Kickin’ Chicken? Andolini’s? Or somewhere else? I know it’s a chain but Mellow Mushroom really does have some good pizza.”
Eating. She was going to have to eat in front of him, while she was this nervous. All was lost, she was going to end up spitting her drink all over the front of her shirt and food was going to fall like an avalanche out of her mouth when she accidentally laughed at the wrong time.
“I’m not actually that hungry, it’s up to you.”
“I’m not really that hungry either, how about something sweet at Kaminsky’s? A friend of mine is actually playing there tonight.”
“Sounds great,” well, it sounded less bad than somewhere she’d be expected to eat pasta like a civilized human being.
He led her off the porch and they started walking towards Market Street. The summer sun hadn’t set yet and the streets were drenched in an orange glow making everything look more rustic and charming.
“So where are you staying on Folly?”
Melissa told him the general area she was in, leaving out any details or interesting information. She was really blowing this date, so far a rock would have been more interesting than she was.
“Ah, that’s not too far from the pier I first saw you on.”
“Peir? We met in the coffee house.”
“Yeah, I, um… “ he looked sideways at her, “I kinda followed you. Not that I was trying to stalk you or anything, I just wanted to get you to sit for me.”
She was confused, at best she could be described as ‘interesting’ which was why she’d assumed he’d wanted to draw her, but she was far from beautiful, “You followed me?”
“I saw you on the pier and you just looked so… perfect in the sunlight. So lost and beautiful. I really wish I could have sketched you right then but you left before I got a chance to start. I really wasn’t trying to be creepy.”
Beautiful? She felt the warmth spreading through her belly and rising to her cheeks. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
He was incredulous, “The boys you’ve been dating are doing a bad job.”
“I haven’t dated anyone in a while,” she admitted.
He paused for a moment, “Well the guys in the future will have to do better.”
By which he meant he wasn’t going to be one of those guys. She tried not to feel disappointed. She was going to attempt to enjoy herself so she plastered on a smile. It was warm and beautiful outside, she was out with a gorgeous man (who really wasn’t interested in her but nevertheless) and she was going to get dessert and coffee. Things could be worse.
Actually the knowledge that Owen wasn’t interested in her made her feel a little more at ease. She didn’t have to worry about driving him away with some stupid faux pas if he didn’t intend to be more than friends.
“So,” she tried to seem cheery, “Do you hang out at Folly often or were you just there people watching the day we met.”
“I go a good bit, my brother and I surf there.”
“You have a brother?”
“Two of them, but my youngest brother lives in Oregon. In a hippie commune or something,” he shrugged, “How about you? Any siblings?”
She saw him wince, “No, don’t worry about it.”
“I meant other than your twin,” he said apologetically.
“Yes, I have a younger sister but we’re not really close.”
“That’s a shame, she probably needs her big sister now,” he said as he opened the door to the small restaurant.
She paused behind him, his words cutting her, in all of her agony she hadn’t thought about how her little sister, who had turned seventeen the week Felicia had died, was feeling. She’d barely thought of her mother and father who had lost a daughter. She’d been too wrapped up in herself and her own loss.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” realizing she was standing in the open door she followed him in.
“Come on let’s find a table.”
The interior was all subtle lighting and dark wood. A display case stood in front, illuminated from within, it was the brightest spot in the room, showcasing tall cakes, pies, bars, and cookies, all of which looked delicious. Crammed into a corner was a guy with a guitar singing some kind of blues slash folk song that blended perfectly with the ambiance, Owen waved to him as they walked by, receiving a nod in return.
They found a table near the back, in almost complete dark except for the flickering candle in a small jar in the center of the table.
“Wow, it’s really crowded in here,” Melissa scooted her chair in a little closer, picking up one of the small menus standing on the table.
Owen ignored her casual comment, “Did what I said upset you? I wasn’t trying to be judgmental even though it probably sounded that way.”
She flipped the page on the menu, “It upset me, not because you said it, but because it’s true. I’ve been self-involved. ”
“And you deserved to be. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose a twin. Someone who has been with you, literally, before birth. Not many people ever have a bond like that.”
It hit her again, that agony in the gut, the realization that she was alone. “No, not many people do.”
His hands covered hers, “Don’t cry. I wanted tonight to be fun for you.”
Eyes brimming, she looked up at him, his face so sincere and open. She felt the electricity from his touch again. Her whole body suddenly aware of how close they sat together. His thigh touching hers, elbows brushing together. Energy jumped between them, he felt it too. Green eyes darkening he leaned in closer. Melissa’s breath caught in her throat, she wanted to feel those lips on hers, wanted to feel him hold grasp her to hi
m, hands roaming over her body. Their lips were inches apart, all she would have to do was –
“Hey Owen good to see ya again. What can I get y’all tonight? Our Mountain of Chocolate Cake is the special of the day and we’ve got a new coffee available tonight, called the Stars & Stripes. Its cherry and almond flavored steamed milk with espresso, topped with whipped cream and red white and blue white chocolate sprinkles. It’s really delicious.”
This perky little waitress had the worst timing ever.
“I’ll have a slice of the Blueberry Buttercream Layer Cake and a Chai Tea Latte if you don’t mind Cindy,” Owen ordered.
The waitress looked pointedly at Melissa, who had lost all train of thought in regards to the menu. “I’ll have the specials you mentioned.”
“Alright, I’ll have that out for you in just a few minutes.”
Melissa glanced nervously at Owen, could she just pick back up where they’d left off, or would that be weird?
He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.
“Hot tea? I thought there was a rule against that down here,” she said hoping to ease the tension.
“No, Charleston has had a large influx of carpetbagging Yankees, such as yourself, exceptions had to be made.”
“I’m not a Yankee, I’m from Maryland. That’s practically Southern.”
“Oh you sad disillusioned child. If it makes you feel better to say you’re Southern you go right ahead and do it.”
“Well if it’s not Southern it’s at least a neutral zone,” she joked back.
“That might be true. So what do you do up in Maryland?”
“I was actually going to College of America in DC. I haven’t been home since… in a while.”
“Was? Not going back?”
“I thought I’d hang around Charleston for a while. I’ve been kind of… at loose ends.”
“Nothing wrong with taking some time to figure out what you want to do with your life. Besides, you’re still really young. You’ve got plenty of time to work it out.”