by J. L. Beck
“If Vance was here right now, he would agree with you. He doesn’t like many people, but you’re growing on him.”
“Like a weed or a flower?” I joke, and Ava beams.
“See, you’ve got this, and you think it’s going to be hard to make friends?”
“It is when you’re like me.”
“Like you? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Again I shrug. “Weird and scared of everything.”
“First of all, we are all a bit weird, second, you are not scared of everything. You are not scared of me… or Clark. You’re just shy, you need to come out of your shell a little. Maybe you should come out with us this weekend.”
“Out? Like a club?” Not going to happen. No way in hell could I subject myself to that. I'd probably have an anxiety attack the moment I got there or worse in front of everyone.
Ava shakes her head, blowing on her steaming cup of coffee. “More like a party at someone's house. I think there is one at Rem’s old frat house.” She pauses and then smiles her eyes lighting up again, “Oh, you’re going to like Remington and Jules, they’re so nice and cute together.”
I don’t want to be rude and say no, but I can’t agree right now. The idea of going to a party makes my skin crawl. Men, alcohol, sex, it’s the perfect combination for mass chaos.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sure Clark will come with us. I don’t see him not going. He’s smitten by you.”
Ha, if only she knew what I saw a short while ago. He’s not smitten by me, and even if he was it wouldn't matter. It’s never going to happen. We hardly know each other. And I don't date, and from the sounds of it neither does he.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” I don’t want to be rude and tell her I won’t come at all, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to change my mind about it.
The rest of our coffee date we spend talking about less nerve-wracking subjects, like teachers, classes and the best places to eat around here. We exchange numbers, and with a quick glance at my phone, I notice that we’ve been sitting here for well over an hour.
“If you need anything, a friend to talk to, someone to have coffee with, or even if you want to hang out, I’ll gladly volunteer.”
“Thank you, Ava, we need to meet up again,” I tell her, even though I’m not sure that we will. This all happened by happenstance, and well I was glad to have the distraction I know I’ll have to face Clark eventually.
“We will meet up again,” she says, oozing confidence. Wrapping me up in her arms, she gives me a tight squeeze before releasing me. Then we part ways her heading to a class across campus while I head to my abnormal psychology class. Maybe I’ll learn something about myself there.
I recall Clark mentioning something about it being the building next to a giant statue of a wild cat, the university’s mascot. Walking with my head down, I try and stay out of everyone’s way. My phone chimes in my pocket and I pull it out looking down at. It’s a text from my father. My fingers tremble as I enter the code on my phone and open the text.
It reads: Call me. We need to talk.
I can feel the anger in the typed out words. Why wouldn’t he just call me himself? Because he knows how much you hate doing something he wants you to do. Gritting my teeth, I shove my phone into my pocket and continue down the sidewalk. I’ll respond to him later. Forcing myself to look up and straight ahead, I see the statue Clark told me about and almost break out into a happy dance.
I’m so proud of myself. Entering the building, I read the class numbers off inside my head as I pass the doors. 301, 302, 303… ding, ding. The door to the classroom is open, so I walk in. Of course there are already a few fellow students in their seats, getting their books and whatever else they need out. Moving like a shadow, I try and find a seat in the back of the room but close to the door so if I need to escape, I can do so unnoticed.
My ass hasn’t even hit the chair yet when I see her… the blonde Barbie-like girl that was kissing Clark earlier. She’s pretty. Prettier than me by a long shot and I wish I had even a sliver of the confidence she has. Her gaze sweeps around the room as if she’s looking for someone, soft feminine laughter falling from her lips. Ignoring her presence altogether, I start to tug my books out of my bag and set them on the table in front of me.
They start walking toward me, and my stomach tightens, a boulder of anxiety rolling around inside of it.
“Don’t sit over there, Claudia. She’s garbage.” The Claudia chick giggles, but doesn’t listen to her friend. In fact, she slips farther down the row until she’s in the seat directly in front of me. This is going to be bad. I can already tell.
Blondie follows because where one sheep goes, they all go.
“Seriously? I don’t want to sit next to trash, let’s move,” the blonde sneers, her eyes like daggers as they rake over my face. I should be hurt by her words, after all, she’s calling me trash but I’m not. I’m more insulted by the fact that Clark would kiss someone as disgusting as her. It’s obvious she has a rock for a heart.
“Shut up Holly, even garbage needs a friend. Plus, she needs to be warned about Clark. Not that I think he would ever dip his dick inside her.” Claudia’s eyes rake over my clothing, assessing me. I know what she sees, what they all see.
An ugly girl drowning in her clothing, hiding, but they have no idea the secrets that I’m keeping, the pain I’ve endured. I’m silently suffering, alone, but I would never wish for them to endure all that I have.
“Clark is just a friend.” My voice trembles even though I don’t want it to.
“Aw, a friend?” Holly, as her friend called her says, cocking her head to the side. “Of course you’re only a friend, Clark doesn’t date garbage, and you look like garbage. I mean, what the hell are you wearing?”
Heat rises in my cheeks, and I feel the need to back up my stuff and escape the room.
“It doesn’t look like a garbage bag,” Claudia says, tossing her black glossy locks over her shoulder.
Holly snickers, and then leans down, her face like a beautifully painted masterpiece… a mask of ugly. She might be pretty on the outside, but inside she’s mean, evil, ugly. I’ve spent my entire life running away from girls like her, and because of my association with Clark, I’ve gathered the attention of another group of rich bitches.
“I saw the way you looked at Clark when he kissed me, the way your face fell. Like you ever had a chance with him,” she sneers, her lip curling in disgust. “He’ll never want you. If you’re smart, you’ll remove yourself from the situation because I have no problem taking out the trash.”
As if her words aren’t shitty enough, she shoves my books off the table and onto the floor. They land with a heavy clash that garners the attention of other students that are in the room.
“You’ve been warned,” Holly hisses before trudging away, her friend following behind her. I shouldn’t care, and truthfully, I don’t, but I’m angry, sad that Clark would be with someone like her, someone so hateful, so mean. Bending down, I pick up my books and them back down on the table.
A pang of pain echoes inside my chest, but I ignore it. The professor finally walks in and I’m so relieved I nearly sigh.
“Everyone open your textbooks to page forty-seven,” the professor’s stern voice orders. I do as he instructs and focus all my attention on him and the notes he’s putting up on the board. Being that my social life sucks ass, my academics are spot on. Reading, studying, writing, all of those things I’m incredibly good at, if only I could learn to let go of the fear surrounding my heart so I could excel at, at least making friends.
Class zooms by, and before I realize it, I’ve got an entire page of notes taken. The professor releases us with an essay on fear of the human body, which I find funny since it’s the one thing I live in daily.
I wait for most of the students to filter out of the room before I get up and start to put my stuff away. Holly and Claudia slip out of the room with giggling laughter an
d I do my best to ignore them. They don’t know me, the things I’ve endured, the things that made me the way I am… different.
Shoving all my stuff into my backpack, I zip it up and sling it over my shoulder. Then I pull out my phone, knowing I’ll have to decide on what to do. I’m going to have to face Clark one way or another. It’s the last thing I want to do right now, but it’s going to happen. I could always call Ava and ask her to give me a ride, but our friendship is new, and I don’t want her to think I’m using her. I unlock the screen to find three new messages from Clark.
Call me when you get a chance.
I’m sorry I have to leave campus.
Had to leave or left with another girl?
Just please call me, it’s not what you think.
That’s what they all say, right? Not that it matters, it’s none of my business. I suppose if I tell myself that enough, I’ll believe it. I could walk, but it’s already getting dark out and I don’t really want to walk to the condo which is a good three miles away in the dark all alone. Assuming I’m going to have to bite the bullet and deal with it, I pull up Clark’s contact on my phone just as I’m exiting the building. So caught up in my own thoughts I don’t notice the heeled foot stuck out in front of me until it’s too late. With the grace of an elephant, I fall forward landing on my hands and knees, my phone flying a good ten feet in front of me, skidding across the concrete.
Fucking great.
“Watch where you’re going,” Holly snickers. How did I know it was her? Apparently being friends with Clark has put a target on my back.
“Yeah, maybe if you weren’t wearing a trash bag then you wouldn’t have tripped,” Claudia adds, and they both burst out into cruel laughter. Still on my hands and knees, I hang my head, hiding my face under a wall of red hair.
Do not cry in front of them.
But I want to cry...I want to let the pain out. For some reason I thought college would be better, easier than high school, and in a lot of ways it is, but socially wise, it’s all the same. The mean girls still come for the girl in strange clothes, strange hair, and hidden secrets. Wanting to hurt others because deep down inside, they’re insecure, and the only way to make themselves feel better is to hurt someone else.
“What the fuck!?” a voice I know bellows out, sucking all the air from my lungs. Every single alarm bell inside my head starts to go off, and I push up off the concrete, rocking back onto the balls of my feet.
“Hey Vance,” one of the girls calls out to him seductively. Even though I know I shouldn’t be afraid of him, I can’t stop the flower of terror from blooming inside of me.
“Don’t hey me, get the fuck out of here. You’re both skanks and if I ever see you bother her again, I’ll let everybody on this campus know that you have genital warts and a hairy asshole,” he snarls, his lip curling with disgust, his green eyes menacing. I try and remind myself of Ava’s words… he likes you, but it does very little to calm me when he looks like a snake that’s seconds away from striking. I peek up at him and wonder how he and Clark are even friends.
“Whatever, you know that’s not true,” Holly sniggers. The girls tramp away, leaving Vance and me alone, and that’s when the real fear starts to set in.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
“I’m not…” he sighs, and I can tell this is new to him, and I focus on the fact that he hasn’t attacked me yet, the fact that he is Clark's friend and that he is with Ava, and they love each other. “I’m not sure how to approach you, but I want you to know that I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”
The calms me enough, and somehow, I manage to speak.
“Okay,” I replied softly, so softly I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t hear me. Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he stands before me, cool as a cucumber which doesn’t match the demeanor he gave me on the night we first met.
His facial features soften, and I catch a glimpse of the man I’m positive that Ava fell in love with. Without a shred of impatience, he waits for me to come down from my near panic attack. With each second that ticks by, I find my muscles losing their rigidness, my chest rises and falls and my heart though still thudding loudly in my chest isn’t overpowering my hearing or thoughts. I can breathe, feel, think, fear isn’t controlling me, owning me and it feels like I’ve made a major leap into unknown waters.
You’re growing. My mind replies, and I know it’s true I’m growing, becoming stronger, learning to let go of the fear, learning to control the anxiety instead of letting it control me. I still have a long way to go, but today is a day of progress and that’s something to smile about.
“Can we not tell Clark about this, please?” I don’t want him to think this is his fault.
“Nothing to tell.” Vance winks and I find my lips tugged up into a smile, one that isn’t forced, and I kind of wish Clark was here to see this moment, after all, it’s because of him that I’m growing.
“I’m assuming that smile means you aren’t going to freak out if I offer to give you a ride to your house?”
“You would do that?” I question, dusting my hands off on my pants. A low hiss escapes my lips as the broken skin rubs against the fabric. Stupid mean girls.
“Yes, I would do that. Why does everyone think I’m such an asshole?”
The tiniest bubble of laughter escapes me, and I press a hand to my lips, surprised that I just straight up laughed at him.
“Oh, so you think so too.” He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile forming there. “Let’s go. I better get you to the country club before Clark has a mental breakdown. His dad called him and had him go run some errands for him, super important, I guess. I don’t fucking know, all I know is that Clark asked me to come and get you to take you to him.”
My heart does a somersault in my chest, he didn’t leave with someone else.
“I figured he was trying to avoid me,” I admit, unsure of why I’m sharing this thought with Vance.
“Avoid you?” Vance grins. “I don’t think he could if he tried. Do you really believe he would avoid you? It’s clear to me that he’s doing the opposite. If it were up to him, he’d spend every second of the day with you.”
“It’s not like that between us,” I blurted out.
“Not yet, but it will be. Clark might be blind, failing to see what is right in front of him, but the rest of us aren’t. You’re a good match for him. You bring out the good in him.”
I want to tell Vance how wrong he is, but I bite my tongue. How could I explain to him that I’m not a match for anyone? Most definitely not a match for someone like Clark, we couldn’t be farther apart from a match.
“I don’t think so…”
Grinning, he says, “We’ll see.”
And I guess we will.
Chapter Nine
Clark
Signing the last two documents with my dad’s name I sigh, thankful to finally be done with this shit. As soon as everything with Emerson happened, he called me ordering me over to the country club to sign some paperwork. Apparently they’re doing a charity event in my mother’s honor
“Thank you for coming by on short notice, Mr. Jefferson. And please let your father know we appreciate his contribution to the country club.” It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes, fuck would that make my father murderous.
“Of course, and you’re very welcome.” The words feel like sweet vomit coming out of my mouth. I need to get out of here, away from this place. Placing the pen down next to the stack of papers, I stand up and fish my phone out of my pocket. The man in front of me grabs the papers and slips from the room without another word.
Dread fills my gut as soon as I look down at my phone and see that Emerson still hasn’t returned my texts. Since that first class I’ve felt like complete shit, after her witnessing the forced kiss with Holly, and then having to leave, it feels like I’ve let her down.
This isn’t how I wanted today to go. The entire day has been a cluster fuck. Running a hand t
hrough my hair in frustration, I try and figure out how the hell I'm going to do this.
My phone dings right then, an incoming text from Vance.
Got her, on my way.
Thank fuck. I can only hope Vance isn’t his normal cheery self and acts like a nice person for once. Exiting the office, I head for the elevator. I press the elevator button three times, as if that would make the damn thing come up faster.
“Clark Jefferson?” someone calls from a distance. I turn to find a guy I’m positive I've never seen before standing a few feet away from me. He looks to be my dad's age, thick brown hair, two beady eyes the color of shit. He's wearing a suit that says look at me, I’m rich. A watch that cost more money than most people make in a year.
“Do I know you?” I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance. I don’t know this guy, but instantly I don’t like him. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. Deep down in my gut, I know this guy is bad news.
“No, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Rick Paulson,” he introduces himself, holding out a hand, which I reluctantly take. God forbid I do something that makes my father look bad. “Your father and I used to have a law firm together when we first started out. It was a long time ago, so I don't expect you to remember. I just moved back to town.”
“Yeah, welcome to North Woods,” I tell him just as the elevator doors finally open up. “Nice meeting you,” I lie and step into the elevator.
“I’m sure we’ll see each other more often from now on,” Rick calls, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes appearing on his lips before walking away. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to descend. Sagging against the wall, I squeeze my shuts and scrub a hand down my face. I’m stressing the fuck out, and without sex that stress is just mounting, building and building. With the elevator dings and the doors open, I step out.
I walk out of the building and spot Vance’s car pulling into the parking lot right away. Perfect timing.