by Diana Nixon
My eyes traveled to the nearby standing closet. It was full of Sandy's stuff. Unlike me, she owned a whole collection of designer clothes, starting from socks to the fanciest of dresses I had ever seen.
I looked carefully at the closed door to our room, as if I were a spy and was on a very important mission that included going through Sandy's wardrobe for pieces of evidence. Then I tiptoed to her closet and opened it.
As I said, it looked like a paradise for any sane girl.
Thinking twice about my next move, I took my phone and texted Sandy.
"Do you mind if I borrow one of your dresses?"
I knew she wouldn't mind. I'm sure she wouldn't even notice if I wore one of her dresses right in front of her. She had too many to remember all of them.
"I don't. But give me five minutes to come back to the dorm. I need to see you in a dress!"
I rolled my eyes.
I couldn't remember the last time I wore a dress. Though heels were a must to complete my everyday outfits. No matter where I was going or how much time I was going to spend wearing heels, I always chose a pair of stilettos over everything else. All thanks to my short-girl syndrome. I hated my height for as long as I could remember.
Less than a minute later, the door to the room flew open and Sandy ran up to me, breathing heavily.
"You couldn't get here any faster, could you?"
She motioned for me to give her a moment to catch her breath. Then she smiled and said, "I couldn't believe my eyes when I read your message."
"Yeah, well, I can't believe I sent it."
"Now, tell me, what kind of dress do you need?"
"Something nice," I said the last word as if it were the most boring and ridiculous word in English.
"Hmm… Let's see." Sandy started going through the row of her dresses, denying one after another. About five minutes or so later, her frown turned into a self-satisfied smile. "Here we go," she said, pulling out a short blue dress. "This one should work. Try it."
I took the dress from her hands and looked at it through the mirror. "It's too girly."
"Of course it is! And I'm sure it will look perfect on you."
I gave the dress another doubtful look. "Don’t you have anything… I don't know… Less 'sweet'?"
"Sorry, I don't. Now, stop criticizing it and give it a try."
"Fine." I kicked off my shoes, took off my T-shirt and jean shorts and replaced them with the given dress. "Jeez, I don't have anything to put into these cups," I said, trying to readjust the top of the dress. It was strapless and its full skirt was quite short, but didn't show off too much.
Sandy giggled. "Just put on a pushup bra. It should help."
She was a little taller than me, but the size of her boobs was definitely so much more eye-catching.
"A pair of balloons would be more helpful," I muttered.
She giggled again and turned me around. "Let me help you." She zipped up the dress on my back. Then she stepped back and looked at my outfit. "Not bad. You also need heels, which I guess, is not going to be a problem, since you wear them even with sweatpants." She went to my closet and pulled out a pair of black velvet pumps. I almost forgot about them. "These are perfect."
I put on the pumps and gave myself another head-to-toe look. The reflection in the mirror nodded approvingly.
"Nice!" Sandy smiled. "Really nice. I told you the dress would look good on you. It highlights the color of your eyes. Though we still need to do something about your make-up and hair. Curls will look amazing with this dress."
"Wait, what's wrong about my make-up?" Thanks to Mother Nature, I had long enough lashes and big eyes that in most cases didn't need any make-up magic.
"Too much black on your eyelids," Sandy said, giving me a bottle of micellar water. "You need something more delicate. Like mascara, blush and a little bit of soft-pink lip gloss."
"God, I'm gonna look like a doll."
"That's the point of 'nice'. Kenneth's gonna love it."
"I didn't tell you it was for Kenneth."
"No, but it wasn't hard to guess. Unless you've decided to dress up to impress the hottie from the café. By the way, he told me he wouldn't mind our help with the boxes."
A range of inexplicable anger ran through me. "Screw him and his stupid boxes."
"What's wrong with you today?"
"Nothing," I retorted. "Nothing is wrong with me." I gave myself one last look through the mirror, wondering what would hottie say if he saw me dressed up like this.
Why do you care? My inner voice asked.
Indeed, why did I care? I didn't know anything about him, except he was a good-looking guy whose ego was bigger than the universe. Not my type at all.
"Do you think I should change into something more proper for unpacking boxes?"
"Huh?" I turned to Sandy, still thinking about the guy who was not supposed to steal so much of my attention.
"I don't have anything to do today, so I'll go help Jeffrey with the boxes. I think jeans will work better than this skirt." She took off her mini-skirt and dropped it to the bed.
A part of me, a very small part of me, felt like telling her to stay in the room and let Mr. Perfect deal with the boxes on his own.
Then again, who was I to decide what he and Sandy were going to do together?
I shouldn't give a damn, right?
CHAPTER 3
Jeffrey
My eyes glued to the girl walking into my room. I closed the magazine I had been reading and just stared at her.
Cherry looked fucking amazing. If I hadn't seen her previously this morning, I would have never believed she was a tattooed rebel whose every word was like a dipped-in-poison dagger.
Posh looked good on her. The blue dress matched her eyes and showed just enough to make me even more curious about her. I suddenly wanted to come closer to explore every small part of her, starting with those soft shining lips and to the tiny toes polished with red that peeked from her velvet pumps.
Her eyes spoke of uneasiness, as if she was afraid of people judging her new look, instead of admiring it. She felt discomfort, I could feel it. The closer I stepped, the more fragile she looked – a completely opposite look from what I saw in her earlier in the morning.
I stood behind her, close enough to break into her private space; she didn't move an inch. I dared to reach my hand and remove the curls covering the bleeding hearts tattoo. I was right after all, the pattern of black drops and intertwined small rose flowers went down her spine and hid beneath the blue fabric. My fingers tingled from the desire to touch it.
And so I did.
Surprised by the fact that she didn't try to stop me, I touched one of the hearts and traced the pattern with my fingertip. Even without knowing the significance of the tattoo, I knew it was filled with pain, a loss maybe.
Rhea stayed still. Her breathing was rapid, making the vein on her neck tremble with the blood running fast through it. It was as if she didn't know how to react to my closeness or what to say.
I stepped around her and now stopped right in front of her, and looked her in the eye. Her gaze was deep and thoughtful. I wish I could read the thoughts running through her head at that moment.
"Who are you, Rhea?" I asked in a barely audible voice. It was like I met two different girls, with the same face and body.
She didn't respond to my question.
Suddenly I caught myself thinking I knew her from somewhere. Have we met before? No, I would have never forgotten it. Did she remind me of someone I knew? Maybe…
"Ready to go?"
The question that broke the silence between us was quite unexpected. Rhea turned around to look at the guy standing at the door.
"Yeah… Shall we go?"
He nodded and smiled lovingly at her.
Something in my chest protested against the warmth radiating from his smile. As if he had no right to smile at Rhea like that.
"You must be Jeffrey," the stranger said. He stepped closer and stret
ched out his hand in a greeting manner. "I'm Kenneth. I live here too."
No, shit?
"Nice to meet you," I muttered in response. My gaze returned to Rhea. Her cheeks were covered with a soft blush, which made her look even more beautiful. A part of me hated the idea of letting her go…with Kenneth.
"You two…" I pointed between them.
"Rhea's my girlfriend," my roommate said proudly, giving the blue-eyed beauty another full-of-adoration look.
Her blush got deeper. "Friends," she said. "We are just friends."
Not that her comment made Kenneth feel any less selfish about her. "We are trying to move it to the next level."
I nodded shortly and held my breath beneath my pursed lips, as if I could say something wrong or break Kenneth's dreams about having Rhea all for himself.
"We've been friends since early school years. I couldn't be happier when I found out we would study at the same university."
"Right." My eyes met Rhea's. She wasn't sharing his enthusiasm. But who was I to nose into their relationship? "Enjoy your time," finally I muttered and sat back on the couch, pretending that reading my magazine was so much more interesting than watching the two of them head off for a date.
"You too, Jeff," Kenneth responded, wrapping his arm around Rhea's waist.
My fingers dug into the pages. As soon as the door shut behind the 'happy' couple, I tossed the damn magazine aside, and swore aloud.
What the hell is wrong with you dude? My inner voice asked.
I shook my head, as if trying to get rid of all the unnecessary thoughts flooding my mind. Something was wrong about the new Rhea I saw just a couple of minutes ago. Something was wrong about the whole way she looked and acted. It wasn't the real her. She did look amazing, but she hated the effect she had on me.
Then why would she dress up for him? Clearly not because she was madly in love with him. Or maybe I was wrong and she did love him, but wasn't ready to tell him about her feelings.
Whatever the fuck her problem was, it was none of my business.
I stood up and headed for the door. I needed to unwind and New York was the best place in the world to do it.
The club was overcrowded. People moved past my barstool, like raindrops that didn't have a choice but to fall into the ocean of smoke, dancing and drinking. I didn't mind loud music or laughter coming from all around me. No one cared if I was alone or needed company; if I was sober or dead drunk. I could be myself. Just get lost in my thoughts and don't give a fuck about tomorrow. Can't say I enjoyed moments like that, but right then and there it felt like the best cure for any damn disease I suffered.
I couldn't stop thinking about her… About the look she gave me before she left with Kenneth. She didn't want to go on a date with him. Don’t know how, but I knew it. She didn't look like a girl who was excited about the upcoming date night with the guy of her dreams. Rather on the contrary – she looked like she was making herself go out with him.
But why? Why the fuck would she do that?
I didn't get it.
Though one thing I knew for sure – I desperately wanted her to stay…with me.
Every fiber of me trepidated when our eyes locked. It was something I never felt before, something I never wanted to feel again, except with this very girl…
She bothered my peaceful world, full of well-planned scenarios, no-strings-attached hookups and bright future as the head of my father's company. She didn't fit into the picture I drew in my mind. There was no place for sloppy breakups, regrets or anything that would limit my freedom. I laughed in the face of love and romance. I didn't do romance. I had no fucking idea what it was like to think about someone day and night, dying to be with that person and never want to try something new.
But the mere thought of Rhea made all the mentioned above rules go to hell in a handbasket, shattering everything I had ever believed was right for me.
She was like a game I never wanted to play. Because I knew the consequences – the something I didn't need to complicate my life, neither now, nor ever.
***
Rhea
Time was frozen at the moment. Five seconds had passed since I last checked half an hour ago. The movie had never seemed to last that long, long and boring to death. Or maybe it was just me and my inability to focus on the plot. Everyone around me, including Kenneth, seemed to be enjoying it.
"Are you okay?" My date asked, caressing the back of my palm with his fingers. I hated it.
Smiling, I pulled my hand out of his and said, "Yeah, it's just a headache. It started a little before we left the dorm. I think I should have stayed in bed instead."
"Oh… Do you want to go back to the dorm?"
It was the best he could say right now, but I didn't want to ruin the date. After all, Kenneth had to work hard to afford to take me to the movie premiere. Never mind that I didn't like it.
"No, let's stay," I forced myself to say.
"Okay." He smiled and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. It wasn't the first time he did it, but tonight, everything he did seemed to be out of place.
My time with Kenneth never seemed to be so wasted. He was a great guy, very attentive and caring. He never let himself cross the line or do something that would make me want to slap him in the face. But tonight it looked like no matter what he was doing, it was all for nothing. All I wanted was to go back to my room, take off the damn dress and just fall asleep, so I could finally stop the buzzing in my head.
God, I was a terrible girlfriend. I didn't even want him to call me his girlfriend, not to mention acting like one. Kenneth deserved so much better than me. He obviously expected this date to end up with a kiss at the very least. And I wasn't ready to give him even that.
The sound of giggles broke into my thoughts. I turned my head to the right and saw two girls grilling Kenneth with their meaningful gazes. In any other situation, I would probably try to dig their eyes out with my fingers, but right now, I couldn't care less.
I shook my head and rubbed the bridge of my nose tiredly. I didn't lie about the headache. The dressing part and Sandy's make-up routine took the best of me. I really wanted to end this night as soon as possible.
Needless to say, staying until the end of the movie felt like the biggest torture ever. The seat was terrible, and my back hurt like hell. Not to mention breathing in Sandy's dress turned into the hardest mission ever. Obviously, she ate fewer burgers than I did. That's why when the lights came on I was the first person to leave their seat.
"How's your headache?" Kenneth asked when we walked to his car.
I couldn't lie. "Still bothering."
"Do you have any painkillers in your room? Or shall we stop at the pharmacy?"
"I'm good. I'm sure I can find something in our med kit." I stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Ken, I'm a terrible date."
He smiled gently. "You are not. It's just not the best of your days. We should have stayed in the dorm and watched a movie on a TV."
"No way! You took me out for a premiere – it's so sweet of you."
"I hoped you would enjoy the movie, considering you keep Edward Norton's poster under your bed."
"What? Who the hell told you about that?"
"Sandy did. She found it when she was cleaning your room."
"Cleaning my room? Ugh… Sandy never cleaned my room, and the poster is not mine. We found it in the wardrobe when we moved in."
"Oh, and I thought… You were his biggest fan."
"I don't have anything against Edward Norton and I truly love The Illusionist."
Kenneth's face lit up. "So my choice of movie wasn't that bad after all."
"Not at all. It's just…"
"The headache. I get it."
I huffed. "Yeah. Sorry again." I felt like I owed him an apology for my absent-minded behavior. "How about I make a pizza and you come to watch a movie in my room next Saturday?
"Sounds like a plan."
"Good."
We kept walking in s
ilence. The loud music coming from one of the cars parked nearby filled the uneasy silence, and I was thankful I could pretend I was focused on the song, instead of the real reason for my grumpy mood tonight.
And the real reason was…
"Listen, Rhea…" Kenneth stopped and looked at me. "I wasn't kidding about becoming a couple." He gave me a few seconds to comprehend it. "We've known each other for years, and I… I like you Rhea. Really like you."
Until this very moment, I didn't realize how much of a mistake it was to play with Kenneth's feelings. I knew he felt something for me. The only problem was I never felt the same way about him. I mean I liked him, but recently the distance between us was growing bigger.
"Kenneth…" I swallowed, not sure why it was so hard to tell him the truth. "I like you too, but…"
"Not as much as to become my girlfriend, right?"
Oh, dear Lord, could it get any worse?
"I knew it Rhea. But I'll still ask you to give us a try."
My eyes widened. "Why would you waste your time on me when there are so many girls willing to be me right now?"
"Because none of them are you."
I looked at him, trying to understand what my problem was and why I couldn't let myself dive into what he was suggesting.
Obviously too lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the moment his lips covered mine…
The kiss wasn't hungry or passionate, or selfish. It was more like a stolen kiss. I could feel begging in it and I suddenly felt like the worst person in the world. I didn't deserve him. Then again, I did like him. Maybe not exactly the way he wanted it, but I did. And he liked me, a lot.
Since I didn't try to stop him, he deepened the kiss and I panicked. I wasn't afraid of the kiss turning into something bigger. We were in the middle of the parking lot and there were many people around us. But Kenneth obviously put so much more into the kiss than I did. And that's why I needed to stop it.
"Wait," I said, breathing heavily.
"Am I rushing things?"