by Sky Corgan
Thursday rolls around, and my client cancels on me, so I'm able to go to baseball practice with Peter. He's elated to see that I could join, and we have a good time hitting the ball and jeering our teammates.
When practice is over, Peter and I hit up a nearby restaurant to refuel. We usually hang out together after practice if we both have time. Today, I decide to take the opportunity to probe Peter more about what he actually thinks of Willow. I have noticed that his behavior is kind of strange around her.
We order food before I launch into the discussion, trying not to make the topic seem so awkward. “It's crazy that you and Willow work together.”
“Who?” He looks confused for a minute.
“Willow. The girl that was with me at the bar on Saturday.” I screw my face, wondering if he actually doesn't remember or if he's just being spacey.
Recognition hits him, but he doesn't smile. “Ah, yeah. Small world, isn't it.”
“Small world, indeed.” I nod. “You seem kind of tense around her.”
“Do I?” Peter pulls the straw out of his glass of water and takes several large gulps from the side of the glass. It's one of his strange quirks, his opposition to the use of straws. He says you can't get enough liquid through them fast enough.
“Mhm.” I glance out into the restaurant, watching the other diners. “I would even go as far as to say that it seems like you try to run away every time you see her.”
His eyes flit up to meet mine, and he smirks. “You're always too perceptive.”
My head juts back slightly in surprise that I caught onto him. “So you do divert on purpose.”
He takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat. “I don't really like hanging out with employees outside of work.”
“Why not?” Now that I think about it, he hasn't gone out with any of the girls that he works with in a long time, which is strange because in the beginning he said he liked doing employee training because he got to meet more girls that way.
“Rumors,” he replies simply. “I don't like dealing with them.”
“Ah.” I'm still trying to wrap my head around what might have changed. “Why does it matter? You're the boss.”
“It's caused drama before.” He doesn't elaborate. “I don't want to get involved with anything like that again.”
I can only imagine that he might be referring to sexual harassment charges that he never told me about. If there's one thing that Peter doesn't like, it's talking about work. He believes that work should stay at work and leisure should be unencumbered by thoughts of business.
“I know it seems kind of harsh,” he continues, looking directly at me as he speaks, “and I didn't mean to come off as rude, but I'd rather not hang around Miss Stroop outside of work.” He pauses before his serious expression breaks into a smile. “You sucked today at practice.”
The conversation diverts away from Willow, but all I can think about is how disappointed she's going to be when I tell her the news. Peter has absolutely no interest in her. That is abundantly clear to me now. It's game over for our deal...and probably our friendship if she's still holding a grudge.
I spend the rest of the week avoiding Willow. There's really no point in the two of us meeting up. I know exactly how it's going to go down. I'm going to tell her what Peter said. She's going to pitch a fit and insist that there must be some way to make things work. I'm going to get fed up and give her a dose of harsh reality, and then we're going to part ways with her still hating me for the past and resenting me for not being able to perform the impossible feat of helping her to marry Peter.
Unfortunately, though, she won't let me avoid her forever. On Saturday night, she knocks on my door. When I open it, I see that she looks like she's ready to go out. Her hair and makeup are done. A thread of hope rips through me as I think that maybe she managed to land a date with someone else. It's certainly not unthinkable. She's a beautiful girl and can be nice when she wants to be.
“Hi.” She practically bounces as she greets me.
“Hi.” I just want to go back inside and finish watching the football game that's on.
“Let's go out.”
“Go out?” I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Where?”
“The bar. The one we went to last Saturday.” She rocks on her heels.
“Why?”
“Because Peter might be there.”
My shoulders slump. “He probably won't be there tonight.”
“Why not?” She tilts her head to the side.
“Because he likes to hang out at different places on the weekends.”
“Oh.” Disappointment races across her face, but it's gone almost as quickly as it came. “Well, it never hurts to try. Besides, I already got dressed up.” She sways back and forth.
I assess the white long-sleeved blouse and jeans that she's wearing. The only thing dressy about the outfit are the rhinestones dotting the collar and shoulders of her shirt. It's way too mature for a girl her age, but she doesn't look bad in it.
I sigh, giving the television one last lingering glance before I submit. If I say no, Willow will likely spend the night home alone and depressed. While I don't have any good news to give her in the Peter department, I don't want that either. She needs to know that I still want to be her friend, even if her dream of a relationship with Peter just reached its end.
“Alright,” I agree finally, “but I need to get dressed. I'll come pick you up when I'm ready.”
She squeals with delight, clapping like a child before heading back to her apartment to wait for me. I just shake my head, wondering why I'm subjecting myself to a night that will surely end in a fight when I could be enjoying the rest of the game.
We head to the bar and order drinks. Not surprisingly, Peter isn't there. Willow checks his Facebook to see if he posted his whereabouts, but it's blessedly blank. I'm not about to go chasing him down tonight, and I'm not quite ready to explain to her why.
We take our drinks to a table instead of hanging out at the bar. My ass hasn't even gotten comfortable in the seat before I see Becky approaching from my right. Now I'm wondering if Willow planned this to try and set us up, and I groan internally.
“Hi guys.” Becky stops at our table and clasps her hands together. She looks deceptively innocent in a light yellow spaghetti strap dress with a ruffled skirt.
Just one glance at Willow tells me that this was not a setup. Willow looks every bit as annoyed to see Becky as I feel inside. The way that her upper lip twitches is so amusing that I can't help but smile.
“Hi there.” I take the reigns on the conversation.
Becky lightly touches my shoulder. “It's so nice to see you outside of the gym.”
“Believe it or not, I'm not just a gym rat.” I smile at her.
“I'm going to go to the bathroom,” Willow announces before disappearing and leaving the two of us alone.
Becky's eyes follow Willow like that of a viper. “Are you two dating?”
Her boldness surprises me but her words confuse me. What would have ever given her that idea?
“No...” I reply hesitantly.
“Then why are you hanging out alone?” She pouts, and I realize that she's acting like I'm cheating on her even though we've just barely met.
“We're neighbors.” I'm not sure what kind of reaction she's looking for, but this is the best I can do. “We live across from each other.”
“Willow never told me that.” She looks disappointed.
Thankfully, Willow returns quicker than I thought she would. While I had thought to lead the conversation, I'm ready to pass Becky off. She's acting waaay too clingy for my taste.
I wait for Becky to say something to Willow or vice versa, but instead, Becky leans in to whisper into my ear. “Well, if you decide that you'd like to hang out with a real woman, I'll be over there.” She points to a table full of guys before walking towards them.
I roll my eyes in complete disbelief at how brazen she is. She didn't even seem to car
e that Willow could probably hear her.
“Thank God that witch left.” Willow glares at the back of Becky's head while sipping her drink.
“I thought you guys were friends.” I smirk.
“Friends,” she huffs. “I only hung out with her that one time because she's the only female I know around here.”
I can definitely see why Willow doesn't like Becky. She seems super self-involved. Not a real friend, for sure.
“You need better friends.” I open my eyes wide for emphasis.
“You act like it's so easy to make friends.” Willow gestures with a frown.
“It is if you have social skills.” I give her a toothy grin, and she huffs at me.
“I don't want to talk about that bitch anymore.” She sneers in Becky's direction before returning her attention to me. “How are things going with Peter?”
Oh no. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.
“I did end up hanging out with him on Thursday. We played baseball and then went out to eat.” I stare past her at the bar.
“I bet he's an amazing player.” She swoons, looking temporarily lost in a dream-like state. “Did you guys have fun?”
“Yup,” I reply shortly. “So, what do you really see in him besides the fact that he's good looking and makes a lot of money? I mean, I assume that the two of you haven't really gotten close at work, and I know that his work persona is different from his casual persona. You don't really know the real him. You don't know a lot about him. I'm just...trying to wrap my head around it.”
“What more is there for me to like?” She gives me a puzzled look.
I furrow my brow at her. “Wow.”
“Wow, what?”
“I just...didn't expect you to be so shallow, especially considering where you came from.”
She snorts, her expression a strange mix of anger and smugness. I can't quite place it. “That's just the way the world is, Caleb. If you think that physical attraction isn't important, then you're an idiot.”
“Personality should always matter more,” I insist. “And you have no idea what his personality is really like.”
Willow looks me straight in the eyes. “If personality matters more, then why was I single all throughout high school?”
I have no answer for her. All I feel is a deep sadness, because I know I can't argue her point. Between her physical appearance and family background, there wasn't a single guy in high school who was even willing to take the time to get to know her. Dating Willow would have ruined their reputation, no matter how minute. Even the unpopular guys wouldn't go for her. It didn't matter who she was on the inside.
It's an unpleasant reminder that the world is a crueler place than I like to acknowledge. She's opening my eyes to so many things that I just don't want to see. It's always been easier for me standing on the outside looking in. Now, more than ever, I realize that the inside was a dark and lonely place devoid of hope.
8
Willow
I swear, Peter looks more handsome with each passing day. I'm pretty sure that this is the first time I've seen him at work sans blazer. He's wearing a charcoal vest with a white dress shirt and tie. It looks like it was custom made to fit his body perfectly. And damn, his ass in those slacks.
Becky takes her seat next to me, glancing at Peter before asking me if Caleb is dating anyone.
I barely acknowledge her as I respond, “No.”
“He seems different from other guys.” She tilts her head to the side, looking like a stupid doll.
“That's because he's an idiot.” Not refined like Peter at all. Still just a jock and brute.
Becky's gaze follows mine back to Peter. “I heard he has a date this weekend.”
“I could not care less,” I grumble.
She giggles. “I'm surprised.”
“Why?” I grudgingly redirect my attention to her.
“Because I thought you were obsessed with him.” Becky nods towards Peter, and it takes me a moment to realize that she's not talking about Caleb. When I do, my heart falls to my feet along with my jaw.
“Where did you hear that from?” I want to grab my chest to stop the unpleasantness swirling inside of it.
“It's obvious.” She gives me a syrupy sweet smile. “You swoon over him every day.”
“Not that.” I shake my head. “Where did you hear that Mister Burgett has a date?”
“Oh.” Her features soften into the deceptive innocence that she wears so well. “People talk, you know.”
That's incredibly vague, but I still can't help but believe her.
“You should just give up on him. He's out of your league anyway.” She pats me on the shoulder before turning on her monitor.
I want to come up with a retort, but Peter clears his throat to announce the start of our training class. All I can do is stay quiet and stare at him, desperately praying that what Becky said isn't true.
As soon as the workday is done, I go straight to Caleb's apartment. If anyone will know whether or not the rumor has any merit, Caleb will, since according to him they're best buddies. I bang on his door with all of the urgency I feel inside, waiting for him to come answer it.
He opens the door, seemingly startled by my unhappy expression. “What's wrong?”
“Is it true that Peter has a date this weekend?” I cut to the chase.
“Not that I know of.” He screws his face.
“Are you sure?” I fold my arms over my chest.
“Pretty sure...” He doesn't sound certain.
“How would you know?” I press.
“Because we're supposed to hang out this weekend.”
Relief washes through me, though there's still a tiny part of me that's skeptical. I know that to keep my sanity, I have to believe him, so I decide to shift my focus to being pissed at Becky for lying. She probably just said that because I wasn't really paying attention to her when she was talking about Caleb. I was distracted at the time, but I still got the vibe that she was hoping I would hook the two of them up.
Not going to happen.
I don't owe Becky any favors, and the idea of having her around more than necessary just makes me sick to my stomach. Besides, she shouldn't need my help if she's such an expert on getting men. I have my own relationship problems to worry about.
“Is that all?” Caleb glances down the hall and then steps back into his apartment.
“Wait.” I lunge forward before he can shut the door on me. “What's our gameplan for the weekend?”
“Gameplan for the weekend?” he parrots, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I mean, if I just happened to run into you guys somewhere, it wouldn't be too weird, right?” I poke my fingertips together, smirking at myself for coming up with such a devious scheme on my own.
Caleb tilts his head to the side in thought. “That might work.” He nods slowly before speaking again, “We're going to a restaurant on Saturday afternoon and then we're going to play tennis afterward.”
“I can show up at the restaurant and pretend like I was going to eat alone. Then I could ask if I can join you guys,” I suggest.
“That should work.”
“Then I can ask if I can tag along to watch you guys play tennis afterward.” My excitement builds as the plan starts to come together.
Caleb gives me a queer look. “Watch us play?”
I don't see what's so odd about that. “Yeah. I don't know how to play tennis.”
He sighs. “I told him that you're a sports enthusiast as well. It will look weird if you don't want to play. Besides, you won't be able to be as engaged with him sitting on the benches.”
I furrow my brow and fold my arms over my chest. “I hate sports.”
“I wish you would have told me that before I lied for you about it,” his voice has a twinge of offense as if I'm the one in the wrong.
“You didn't even ask me first,” I remind him shortly. “Besides, it should have been obvious. You know how I used to be.”
> “Yeah. But I also know how you are now. I figured that you didn't just get fit by being on the treadmill all the time.”
My mouth falls agape at his silent accusation that I'm lazy. That's what he's really implying, that the treadmill is all that I can do. “I do other things,” I inform him.
“Like?” He leans against the door frame.
“Like squats and push ups and stuff like that. I just do them inside my apartment where no one can see me.” It's a lie. I haven't done any body weight exercises since I moved, but I definitely need to start.
“Whatever.” Caleb rolls his eyes. “The point is that it's going to be awkward if you follow us just to watch us play. You need to learn how to play tennis, too. This apartment complex has a tennis court.”
I sulk, feeling hopeless. “There's no way I can learn by the weekend.”
“It's really not that hard. I'll teach you.”
“Really?” I instantly perk up, practically hopping from his invitation.
He pushes himself off of the door. “I've got some extra equipment in my room. If you have time, we can go down now.”
“Yeah. Just let me change.” I walk backwards towards my apartment, my blood pumping with excitement and renewed vigor. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
Caleb shakes his head at me before disappearing into his apartment. I rush to my room and change before meeting him back out in the hallway. He hands me a racket, and we walk down to the tennis court together.
I'm surprised that he's going so far out of his way to help me. He could have just told me to watch YouTube videos and practice on my own. I'm thankful for the lessons, though. He must really want my forgiveness.
The sun is just starting to disappear over the horizon as we reach the court. He stops just inside the gate, and I wait for his direction.
“Show me what you know.” Caleb nods towards the court closest to us.
I look at it stupidly, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I don't know anything.”
“How about we start by you showing me how you hit the ball.” He hands me one of the yellow balls that he brought. His pockets are stuffed with them.