by L. M. Reed
Chapter 9
“Allison, are you listening to me?” Nat asked impatiently.
“What? I’m sorry, I zoned out for a second,” I replied automatically.
I had zoned out a lot in the weeks since the concert. Unfortunately finals had arrived which was why I was in the library desperately trying to concentrate on studying. All I could hope for was that my daily grades were enough to mitigate any final exams that I might flunk.
“Studying with you is useless,” Nat complained. “I might as well go find Becky. She can’t be any worse than you today.”
Gathering her books, Nat stormed away.
Burying my face in my hands, I moaned quietly. I needed to quit moping and get on with life. So James hated my guts, so he wasn’t the one, so I would never feel his lips on mine again; I would live—not happily—but still...
Those eyes, those gorgeous green eyes, weren’t meant for me. They would belong to someone else one day. I moaned again.
“Allison, are you in pain?”
That couldn’t possibly be…peeking through my fingers I looked up into a pair of incredibly green eyes, the same ones that haunted my dreams every night. I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in two weeks.
“I’m fine,” I said shortly, “What do you want?”
“May I sit?”
“Why?”
“Please.”
“Oh, alright, but make it quick, I’m studying for finals.”
“Really?” he asked skeptically. “Using some new type of groaning meditation?”
Was that a grin on his face? How dare he make fun of me! Standing abruptly, I turned to go. I would have to come back and get my stuff; I wasn’t waiting around long enough to collect anything.
“Allison, wait!”
He moved to block my exit.
“Why, so you can laugh at me some more? And why don’t you poke me a few times with a sharp needle while you’re at it? I’ve done what you wanted and left you alone now go away and leave me in peace.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you, I…”
“Smiling, laughing…semantics, I don’t enjoy being made fun of.”
“I was only smiling because when I heard you moaning in pain, I thought maybe I hadn’t totally blown my chance with you, that maybe you were…thinking of me?”
He moved closer and put his hands on my shoulders.
“Oh no you don’t; I’m not doing this again,” I said firmly, trying to move out from under his hands. “Let go of me, I am so out of here.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you. I…”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you…”
“Allison, please, can we start over?”
“Why?”
“Because things have been all wrong since that night; I can’t even think straight. My finals are, well, I just hope I didn’t flunk out of anything. My scholarship would be down the drain.”
“Oh I see…it’s your scholarship that you’re worried about.”
“You’re taking everything the wrong way.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“I’m asking you to give me a second chance.”
“So now you want me to lead you around by the nose?” I asked facetiously, something inside of me lashing out hoping to hurt him as much as he had hurt me. “You’re willing to become a notch on the handle of my Gucci handbag?”
“Allison…” he began.
“I’m sorry but my next three months are booked,” I lied haughtily, “Perhaps I could pencil you in for the following fling if something better doesn’t come along,” I finished viciously, so angry I was seeing red, my tongue developing a mind of its own.
“Look, Allison, Mom explained some things to me about…” he tried again.
“She had no right,” I broke in wrathfully, at the same time mortified at the thought of what she might have told him, obviously unwilling to give up on the idea of James and me together.
“I’m glad she did,” he argued, “I have no idea why you didn’t tell me yourself. It’s not like you have any trouble talking,” he added, smiling at the thought.
I exhaled sharply beyond furious at the way he was taunting me. “Take your hands off of me or I swear I will scream bloody murder.”
“We can’t have that,” James murmured to himself.
I didn’t realize what he was planning until it was too late. His lips were gentle on mine, as his hands on my shoulders drew me closer. I struggled for all of two seconds; that was all the resistance I had in me. Once again, my arms wrapped themselves around his neck but I had no clue how that had happened. As James slowly stepped back and gently but firmly removed my arms, the pain that shot thru my body almost paralyzed me. I closed my eyes against it, but tears were already rolling down my cheeks.
“Allison?” James exclaimed in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
“How could you do that to me again? How could I let you?”
Infuriated beyond reason, I pounded on his chest with my fists, feelings of anger, humiliation, and shame overwhelming me. Grabbing my wrists, against my will, he managed to haul me into a secluded corner.
I tried to kick him, but he managed to elude my feet.
“Would you please stop trying to beat me up?” James asked in exasperation.
“I…hate…you!”
“Allison…”
Suddenly I felt drained.
Laying my forehead on his chest between my clenched fists I whispered, “I can’t take anymore rejection.”
I lifted my head slightly, but couldn’t look at him, choosing to stare at my fists resting against his chest instead.
“Rejection…?” James echoed in shock. “I wasn’t rejecting you, I was kissing you.”
“And then pushing me away,” I said dully, adding “Again.”
“Didn’t you hear the librarian hissing at us to stop?”
“I…uh…librarian…?” I looked up confused. “What librarian?”
James quickly stifled his roar of laughter as the librarian rounded the corner ready to do battle.
“Come on,” he pulled me back over to the table and began stacking my books. “Let’s get out of here.”
He led me out of the library to a spot under some trees. I tried to protest as he threw my books on the ground, but he was already crushing me against him, finding my lips with his. He wasn’t being gentle, but I responded passionately wondering helplessly in one corner of my mind if I would ever be able to do otherwise. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that before James finally lifted his head breathing hard—or maybe that was my heavy breathing—but it wasn’t long enough.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” James admitted, his eyes a little glazed over.
“Neither have I,” I agreed breathlessly.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been in agony.”
I shook my head, mostly to clear it, but also to let him know I wouldn’t have wished that on him…not for long anyway. James took off his coat and laid it on the ground—motioning for me to sit down on it—and then sat down next to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were to start with?” James asked in a slightly accusing tone.
“Who I…What are you talking about? Richard introduced me as Allison Tate.”
“His girlfriend,” James said in disgust, “I remember…not what I meant. Why didn’t you tell me you were Mom’s ‘Allie’?”
“Would that have made a difference?” I asked still confused. “I assumed you already knew.”
“No I didn’t know and it would have made all the difference,” James replied. “Mom has been talking about you non-stop since you two met. She called you Allison at the concert so it wasn’t until a few days ago when Mom called demanding to know what I had done to kill your spirit that I realized you were Allie. She was furious with me because your voi
ce was…lifeless, I think is the word she used, and you kept making up excuses when she invited you over. I never want to hear her that angry again.” He shuddered and asked anxiously, “Did I kill your spirit?”
“No, just severely wounded it,” I replied truthfully.
He flinched.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t trust the evidence of my own eyes,” he gently took my hands in his, “but I just kept thinking of Jason and how that witch had him wrapped around her little finger.” He paused, “Jason was bewitched. I couldn’t let that happen to me, even though I thought you had the face of an angel,” he conceded, lifting my hands to his lips.
“You believed I was a devil,” I reminded him non-to-gently.
“In my own defense, you were too good to be true,” he confessed. “There was no way you could be that gorgeous, filthy rich, interested in me, and still be a nice person. I’m not that lucky.”
“You think you’re lucky because I’m interested in you?” I asked in surprise.
“Are you interested in me?” he asked seriously. “Or have I blown any chance I had with you?”
“I’m interested,” I admitted with uncharacteristic shyness.
“So that Richard guy isn’t…you aren’t…” he began.
“No he isn’t, and no we aren’t,” my smile widened. “You were right the other night, my parents are planning for us to be married as soon as we graduate from college, but I have other ideas. I thought you talked to your mom about me.”
“She didn’t say anything about that,” he asserted. “And for clarification purposes I said she talked about you all the time, not that she has told me all about you. All I know is that you are the ‘sweetest little girl’ who ever lived, a junior in college planning to be a teacher when you graduate, and you crochet. I’m sorry I translated all of that into ugly but nice,” he said in chagrin “Oh, and that you refused to let her set us up, although I assumed that was a ploy to get me to agree to meet you.”
“You’re rotten,” I said with mock severity. “You know that right?”
“Yes I am,” he replied seriously. “I’m rotten enough not to want to share you with anyone else. So when are you going to break the news to Richard?”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me that need explaining,” I hesitated, even though his mother thought I was somewhat justified in what I was doing to get a college education, I somehow didn’t think James would see it that way.
“Like what? Are you an axe murderer or something?”
I didn’t respond.
“Allison?”
“Are you sure your mom didn’t tell you anything else about me?” I asked hopefully, “nothing at all?”
“No, she said I had to get any answers I wanted from you, if you ever agreed to talk to me again after the way I treated you,” he said in exasperation. “She wouldn’t even tell me why she called you Allison at the concert, but calls you Allie the rest of the time, like I could have ever made that connection,” he muttered.
“That one’s easy,” I said in relief, glad to put off the other explanations, even if it was temporarily. “Only one other person in my life has ever called me Allie, and your mother knew instinctively that I wouldn’t want the rest of them to know about it. It’s too…private…and personal.”
“What do you want me to call you?”
“What feels right to you?”
“I like Allison,” James admitted, “It’s a beautiful name, like it’s owner,” his eyes were roaming my face. “You are easily the most enchanting woman I have ever met. You don’t need all of that junk you had on your face the night of the concert, it just detracts from your natural beauty.”
“Beauty is only skin-deep,” I said in irritation, realizing that somehow we both had to move beyond the whole external thing. Internally, I wasn’t nearly so attractive. “And before you try to tell me that mine isn’t, I think you should hear the whole story…my story.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Yes,” I answered baldly realizing there was no use sugar coating it.
“I’m listening,” James said softly.
Not wanting to cry in public—the bushes and trees only partially blocking us from people walking to and from the library—I began hesitantly at first. Talking about Hannah was going to be hard, it always was, and I knew those parts would have me fighting back tears, but steeling myself against the pain, I began telling him the same story I had told his mother and Mrs. Fowlkes in the sitting room of the Fowlkes mansion. Before that time, I had never had to verbalize my life for someone else and not wanting to leave out anything important, I thought it would be best simply to repeat that.
During my narrative, I didn’t dare look at James; all I could do was stare at the ground. I found a small patch of weeds a foot from us and gazed at it without really seeing it. I had no idea how he was going to take it, but I knew I couldn’t hold back so I didn’t even attempt to downplay my deceptions and manipulations.
Although I was nothing like what he had accused me of the night of the concert, I had plenty of other faults and even though I realized it would be small consolation at least if he rejected me he would do it with all the facts at his disposal instead of using only his preconceived prejudices about rich people.
After I was done, I sat there motionless, refusing to look at him. Instinctively I knew the hardest part for him to accept would be the fact that I was going to continue seeing Richard. His first words confirmed it.
“So you’re not going to tell your parents or dump Richard,” his voice was devoid of emotion.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” I accused miserably gathering my books.
He put his hands on mine, stopping me.
“Do you have feelings for him?” he demanded.
“No!” I jerked away violently. “If I did I wouldn’t be working so hard to get my teaching certificate, I’d just go ahead and marry him.”
“Maybe you should marry him. I’m never going to make the kind of money you’re used to, Allison,” James sounded depressed. “As a football coach I’ll make more than a regular teacher, but it won’t be much. I don’t have the talent or inclination to play pro ball.”
“Here’s the part where I say ‘I don’t care’ and you say ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about’ and we go our separate ways,” I said bitterly.
“Allison…”
“No! I don’t think I can do this,” I agonized, “If we were to…and then you dumped me…I’m not sure…”
He put his hands on the sides of my face; I felt like I was drowning in those eyes…my eyes.
“Won’t ever happen,” he whispered.
“How can you know that?” I asked achingly.
“I don’t plan to ever be that stupid again.”