TWELVE
NIKKI
Luckily, Dani wasn’t home. Fuming, I entered our room and slammed the door behind me as I plopped my backpack on my bed. Derek Anderson was the biggest … asshole, dickhead, penis face I’d ever had the misfortune of coming into contact with! The nerve of the man!
I tried not to let Derek ruin my high, but it was near impossible. Even when I tried to focus on the fact that I’d actually decided not to wear sweats today, for the first time in months, it was only a lukewarm celebration. I unzipped my backpack as I cursed Derek under my breath. It was like he was gunning for me from the moment I walked into class two minutes late. Two minutes! It wasn’t like I was ten or fifteen minutes late! And what if I’d had a legitimate emergency? He hadn’t even stopped to consider why I was late. I mean, I didn’t have an emergency, and the truth was that I’d just taken longer than I intended to get ready, but so what?! Derek didn’t know that!
I immediately noticed The Femme Fatale Handbook sitting inside my backpack, but when I started for it, an image of Derek dropped into my head like a bomb. And then I remembered his closing sentiment to me about hoping I was making headway with my paper.
Asshole …
I pulled the handbook out and plopped it into the top drawer of my side table as I reached for Women in Literature, A Study of the Female Character, and with a sigh, sat down at my desk. Armed with my notebook and a pen with which to take notes, I started reading.
And then the door opened and Dani walked in. By herself, thank God. I didn’t think I could handle the gag-worthy love displays whenever she was with Craig.
“Hi,” I huffed.
“Who are you and what have you done with my roommate?” she answered as her jaw dropped wide, apparently at seeing the way I was dressed, or maybe she was just surprised at seeing me, period. I had been absent pretty much constantly.
“Ha ha,” I answered with a sigh.
“So you aren’t headed to the library tonight?” she asked as she closed the door behind her and threw a few shopping bags onto her bed. The girl had a shopping addiction and then some.
“Nope, I decided to stay in tonight,” I answered as I motioned to the book in front of me to relay the fact that I was busy. Then I eyed her bags. “Don’t you go to class anymore?”
She laughed. “Yes, but I conveniently scheduled all of them before three p.m. to ensure plenty of shopping time!” I just frowned as she smiled even more broadly at me. “I’m glad to see you’re home. We haven’t bonded much lately,” she said, choosing to ignore the fact that I was clearly studying. Or, maybe she just didn’t care. Probably the latter. She walked over to my bed and lay down on top of it, right beside me, folding her arms beneath her head as she beamed at me. “So talk.”
“I’m kind of busy,” I answered as I motioned to my desk and Derek’s words about my paper continued to haunt me. Well, it was probably more honest to say that Derek’s words in general were still doing a good job of lingering in my head. I just didn’t understand why he seemed to have this vendetta against me. I had no clue what the hell I’d ever done to the bastard to warrant this kind of treatment.
“I’m going to take it personally if you don’t,” Dani answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Okay, what do you want to talk about?” I asked as I turned my entire body to face her, wanting to relay the point that I was now giving her my full attention. My hope was that we could chat for twenty minutes or so, long enough to appease her, and then I could get back to reading this damn book.
“First off, what possessed you not to wear sweats today?” she asked as she eyed me up and down. “It’s been so long since I saw you in sexy clothes that I forgot you owned them.”
I shrugged and suddenly felt embarrassed over the fact that I was dressed the way I was. “I don’t know. I just felt like changing it up a little bit, I guess.”
She nodded. “Well, I’m glad to see it. Means you’re working your way out of this slump you’ve been in for months. It’s a good sign,” she finished.
“Okay, if you say so,” I answered, even though I had to silently agree with her. It was a good sign. I just didn’t want her to know what had prompted it—that being the notebook which was currently hidden in my drawer. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt slightly stupid that I was not only reading some random notebook on becoming a temptress, but that I was also actually giving it a try. Better to keep my guilty little secret to myself.
“So, if you’re working your way out of your slump, why do you look like a clown with no balloons?” Dani continued.
“A what?”
“Why do you look like someone just stole your kitten?”
“Why can’t you ask me a question like a normal person?”
“Okay,” she answered with a nod. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Derek Anderson is what’s wrong with me,” I grumbled in response as I shook my head and my jaw tightened as I remembered our little altercation earlier.
“Who?” she asked as she sat up straight and eyed me narrowly, suddenly interested. Probably because a guy’s name was involved.
“The professor who took over my Feminism in Literature class. I guess my other professor got into a pretty bad car accident.”
“That sucks,” she answered, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere as she glanced down at the floor and started twirling her hair like she did when she was deep in thought. “Derek Anderson,” she repeated. “Hey, isn’t that the super-hot professor who bangs all of his students?”
“I don’t know that he bangs all of his students,” I answered, now even more irritated even though I wasn’t sure why. “And I’m also not sure how super-hot he is.”
“Hmm,” she answered, twirling her short hair even faster now. “Dark longish hair? Tall, pretty muscular and tan? Dark eyes and dresses really well? Looks like he’s in his early thirties?” Dani asked, her eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.
“Yes,” I answered with a frown.
“Yeah, don’t kid yourself; he’s super-hot.”
“Okay, well, according to you anyway,” I rebutted, not wanting to give Derek the benefit of any doubt. He was a grand dickhead, as far as I was concerned.
“So why is he raining on your parade?” Dani prodded.
“Because he’s a total and complete asshole,” I responded with a shrug. “Not to mention, he’s also the most moody person on the planet. One second he’s driving me home from the library and the other second he’s yelling at me for being late and not wearing sweats.”
“Um, what?” Dani asked as her eyebrows met in the center of her forehead. “What do you mean, he drove you home?”
“I mean, he drove me home,” I answered, not really sure how else to state it.
“Explain.”
“I was working late at the library one night last week and he offered to drive me home,” I finished with a shrug.
“Um,” Dani started again but I interrupted her before she could complete her thought. I knew what she was thinking.
“He was with a very attractive girl who was all over him, Dani, so don’t get any ideas. There’s absolutely nothing going on between Derek Anderson and me,” I finished. “And there never will be because the guy’s a supreme cock.”
“I’m just saying it’s not every day your professor offers to give you a ride,” she said as she brought her head to the side and further considered her point. “Don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me,” she started singing that song by The Police about a teacher banging his student or something similar.
“Really funny,” I grumbled, although I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.
“So your professor’s a dickhead, so what?” Dani responded as she waved me away with a dismissive hand. “Aren’t all professors?”
“No, not really,” I answered, suddenly thinking about how friendly Dr. Greco was. Her car accident was beginning to strike me as a bigger shame than it had earlier.
“Well, screw Derek Anderson,” Dani announced. “And if he doesn’t like the way you dress, who gives a shit? He’s probably just pissed off that he’s not tappin’ dat ass,” she continued as she eyed my body part in question and then raised her eyebrows, looking like a cartoon character. “Besides, it’s not like he can tell you what you can and can’t wear anyway.”
“Yeah, try telling him that. He acts like God, I swear,” I answered as I shook my head. “He read me the riot act about my outfit, like he had any right to!”
“Well, he’s stupid because you look amazing, dawling,” Dani continued. “The change is much for the better!”
“Thanks,” I answered, even though I couldn’t say I was convinced. I mean, it had felt good to throw my sweats to the side and dress up. And I definitely had noticed quite a few men’s heads turning as I’d walked past them. Yes, that had certainly beefed up my self-confidence. In fact, I’d been feeling and doing just great until stupid Derek Anderson had shoved a pin into my balloon and popped me back into a depression again.
Are you really going to give him that much power? I asked myself. No, there was no way I was going to give him any power over me, because Dani was right—Derek had no say in how I decided to present myself to the world. And on that subject, my sweatpants and sweatshirt were already calling to me from where they lay at the end of my bed.
“On that note, I’m going to go take a shower,” I announced as I pushed away from my desk, my eyes immediately landing on the book I was supposed to be reading. But, for now, I was done with anything that reminded me of Derek Anderson. Yes, I needed a break for the evening.
I busied myself with collecting my showering items, my robe and a towel while I listened to Dani hum something. When I turned around, she appeared to be reading something. As soon as I recognized The Femme Fatale Handbook in her hands, I felt my heart drop to the floor. Immediately I lunged at her, intending to grab the notebook from her hands, but she dodged me.
“The Femme Fatale Handbook,” Dani read the title aloud before she faced me, her eyebrows furrowing. “What in the hell is this?”
“Where did you get it?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
“From your top drawer,” she answered with a shrug. “I figured you had a magazine or something to keep me entertained.” Then she eyed me narrowly. “The question is: where did you get it?”
“I, um, found it,” I softly replied as embarrassment suddenly overcame me. “And if you wouldn’t mind,” I continued as I reached for it, but she held it out of my grasp.
“Did you write it?” she asked, clearly confused.
“No, I didn’t write it!” I responded, almost sounding offended at the thought. Why, I wasn’t sure.
“You found it?” she asked, eyeing me skeptically. “Where?”
“At the library. It was sitting on the top of one of the stalls, and I thought it looked interesting so I started reading it.”
“And it’s about turning yourself into a femme fatale?” she asked as she glanced down at the notebook and started scanning it again. Recognizing my opportunity, I grabbed it from her and returned it to my backpack, making an obvious motion of rezipping it.
“Yes,” I answered and tried to laugh it off. “It’s really kind of comical.”
“That’s taking things a little to the extreme, don’t you think?” she asked as she shook her head. “You don’t need a random notebook to tell you how you should act, Nikki,” she continued as I inhaled deeply. This had been the reason I hadn’t wanted her to find the notebook. I didn’t need a lecture.
“I know, I know,” I started.
“Just go back to being how you used to be. Go back to being you.”
I didn’t respond but watched her as she turned her back to me and started sorting through the bag of clothes she’d just bought. Reaching for the scissors on top of my desk, she began cutting off the tags.
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I started as I pulled on my sweats. “But I have to start reading this stupid book so I can write my stupid paper for stupid Derek Anderson.”
Dani laughed, and for the time being, the notebook was forgotten. I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened the door and started down the hallway toward the bathroom. Once inside, I leaned in closer to the mirror to examine my reflection. A little makeup and curling the ends of my hair had certainly gone a long way. I looked like I did prior to Brandon dumping me, and it was a look that served me well. I was an attractive girl and I did want to show it off. Jane Doe was right—it was important to play up one’s attributes, if for no other reason than to feel good about oneself.
Screw Derek and his over-inflated sense of self-importance. Screw his egotism and the way he thinks he can talk to anyone like they’re two years old! Screw him for tasking me with a project that sucks and for driving me home! And screw him for the way he’s constantly staring at me like I’m a piece of meat!
I wasn’t sure why, but that last thought didn’t bother me like it should have. Of course, I was well aware that Derek checked me out. It was sort of impossible not to notice it, and if I were being honest with myself, I could admit it that I actually kind of liked it. But then I remembered his assholish remarks and I was thrown right back into the swamp of self-doubt.
Maybe Derek had a point? Maybe I had dressed too sexy for school? I definitely didn’t want to look like a street tramp, like he’d alluded to. That’s right! He’d totally told me I was dressed like a prostitute! I reminded myself as I gritted my teeth and an angry fire consumed me all over again.
I took off my clothes and turned the faucet to the bathtub on as I tested the water. Maybe this was just obstacle number one that I needed to get past—other people’s opinions. I mean, it made sense—in order to have supreme confidence, you had to believe in yourself above all others, right?
Do you think Venus would have given two shits about what other people thought about her? I asked myself as I instinctively shook my head. No, of course she wouldn’t have! And neither will you. In order to become a femme fatale, you have to act like one!
I tested the water again, and finding it warm enough, turned the shower on and stepped underneath the flow of water.
So, is that what I’m doing? Am I really teaching myself to become a femme fatale? I asked myself. You’re not, Jane is, came my reply. So I’ve bought into it? I’m actually doing this? I didn’t need to answer my own question because the answer was obvious.
When I got out of the shower, I felt better. Not only physically because I was now clean, but there was a clarity in my mind that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was all due to the fact that I’d just admitted to myself that I was going to follow Jane’s advice and I was going to transform myself into a woman who wouldn’t put up with bullshit, especially Derek’s bullshit. There was definitely something liberating about that thought.