Alex
I stare at the empty condom wrapper on my carpet as I tie the laces on my sneakers. I sigh and sit back on my bed. Another night, another girl.
I know what you’re thinking. Slut. Manwhore. Womanizer. Player. Philanderer if you’re feeling intellectual. It’s fine. You just go ahead and keep thinking that, it’s better than the alternatives.
Sad, lonely, pitiful. I can’t stand to see the look of pity on people’s faces.
Which is exactly what you’d be giving me if I told you the truth. That quiet feels like a death sentence. That I’m afraid of being alone.
I bet you’re wondering why I don’t just get a roommate. Roommates don’t work. I sleep in a frat house most nights with twenty other guys at any given time, but when I close my eyes at night, I’m still all alone in the dark. It’s not like I can hit up one of the guys for a cuddle, can I? What kind of twenty-two-year-old guy needs a buddy to be able to sleep? How would I even explain it to them? I’d become a fucking pariah. And I’m done being that.
I’m not an idiot. I know what I look like. I see the way women look at me. I’m a big dude. Hours in the gym and on the football field has ripped me into a stone statue. They like the bad boy edge racing gives me. So, the alternative? Get a girl in your bed so you won’t have to sleep alone. Besides, it’s not like sex is a chore. And the best part? Nobody asks questions when they think you just can’t keep your dick in your pants. So, I brought a girl back here from the race last night. It’s not the one I wanted, but at least I got a good night’s sleep for the first time in three days. Even if I was imagining a curvy little redhead under me the whole time.
I smile to myself when I remember the way her eyes tracked over my body last night. A smile which quickly turns to a frown because I just don’t understand why she can’t get away from me fast enough as soon as we’re together. She was all over me after the race. I just don’t get it. She’d choose Erik over me? He must be doing something right.
Shaking my head, I get up and make my way down to my car. I’m going to do something I have never done before. Explore the mind of a girl. There’s only one place I can go to do that. Turning the key in my baby, I head out to Brant’s place.
“Hey man,” I mumble a greeting to Brant once I’ve let myself into his apartment. He’s on the couch eating a bowl of something, but I won’t let myself be distracted by food. I walk through his apartment, opening and closing doors. I pass Brant on my way to the opposite side of the apartment.
“Er, hey man. Looking for something?” he says through a mouthful of what looks like cereal now. I don’t answer and continue my searching. “Kitchen is that way.” He frowns and points his fork to where the kitchen is.
“Oh, for real? She’s in there?” I ask with raised eyebrows and head to the kitchen.
“Um, who?”
“Abby.” I throw over my shoulder as I push through the kitchen door. “Short stack!” I shout and throw my arms in the air, happy to find her sitting at the kitchen table. She has her textbooks and notebook open in front of her. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Oh, god,” she groans, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Isn’t it too early to be studying?” I point to the books in front of her.
“Alex?” Brant’s voice suddenly sounds from behind me before she can answer. “What are you planning on doing to my fiancée?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Brant. I need to speak to Abs.” I go to sit at the table opposite Abby who is throwing nervous glances between Brant and me.
“I’m uncomfortable,” she states simply.
“I need some help only you can provide.” I fold my hands together on the table.
“Alex, I already told you, I’m not going to look at your penis to see if it’s above average size. I haven’t seen that many and honestly, that’s crossing a line.”
“Oh, no,” I say and wave her off. “I already know it is. I need girl advice. And you’re a girl. Right?” Abby blinks at me. “And not only that but a girl with specific insight into my particular problem.”
More blinking.
“You’re not taking your pants off in front of my fiancée, Alex.” I raise my eyebrow at Brant’s irritated tone. “Go to the student clinic if you have a weird rash.”
“Don’t worry, bro. I’m not about to highlight your inadequacies to your wifey-to-be. Also, my shit don’t itch. Clean as a whistle. Now,” I fold my hands again and level Abby with a serious stare. “Back to my problem.” When she says nothing, I continue. “There’s this girl I want to hang out with, but she wants nothing to do with me, and I need some advice on how t…” She holds a hand up to stop me.
“I’m not going to help you bang more chicks Alex. You already have more of that than any normal, healthy male of your age needs.”
“I didn’t say bang. I said want to hang out with. Ya know, like to be friends with and do things with. Like you and Brant had in the beginning.”
“Balloon girl?” Brant asks from behind me.
“Her name is Quinn.”
Abby’s head falls to the side in question. “Ok, continue.” She frowns, but it’s more out of curiosity than anything else.
“So, like I was saying, she wants nothing to do with me, and since you wanted nothing to do with Brant when you first met him, I figured you could give me some advice on how you finally decided to give him the time of day. Like stuff I can use to make her want to hang out with me.”
“It doesn’t really work that way, Alex. You can’t trick someone into spending time with you.”
“Bullshit. People do it all the time. How do you think Tinder works?” I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest, satisfied that I’ve made my point. Brant comes to sit next to Abby at the table, raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders at her in an unspoken message that it’s no use arguing.
“So, are you going to help me or not?”
“Why this one?” Brant asks.
Because she’s the most beautiful thing, I’ve ever seen in my life. Because when I look at her, everything in my head goes quiet. Because when I’m close to her I feel alive. Because there’s a glint of something magical in her eyes. Because she smells like the cookies they used to give us at Christmas in the home.
“Don’t know. Just is.” I shrug.
“Dinner,” Brant says while nodding.
“Dinner…” I repeat dumbly.
“Yeah, I made her dinner every single night just so that she would talk to me for a little bit.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work. Her boyfriend may take issue with that.”
“Dude, she has a boyfriend?!” I meet two sets of eyes looking at me in shock. “You’re going to mess around with someone’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah, she’s dating Erik.” They blink at me, but I shrug and wave them off. “It’s ok though. I just want to hang out with her.”
She shakes her head at my answer, but she sighs before answering.
“It wasn’t really the dinner. Or the surprises. It was more that he took an interest and noticed things about me.”
“Right.” I nod. “Like the dinner thing from that book you like reading.” I ignore her protest as I grab her notebook and pen and start writing. I think for a second. “That’s not going to work. I don’t know what books she likes reading.”
“Well, what does she like?” Abby asks.
“Balloons.” I smile. “Yeah, balloons. Short stack, you’re a fucking genius!” I jump up out of my chair and go to grab Abby into a massive bear hug before dropping a fat smooch on her cheek.
“Yuck! Let go of me you savage!” I put her back on her feet, rip the page from her notebook and then leave their apartment.
“Ok, bye then.” I hear Brant shout from the kitchen as I close the door behind me.
***
Coffee shop. Coffee shop. Coffee shop.
I’m drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of . Last night she said something about meeting her friends at a coffee shop this morning. She wasn’t at the first two I checked, and I’m wracking my brain for another one in the area when it hits me. I make a U-turn on the road and head to the one closest to campus. Of course, she’d be there. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that one first.
I’m not disappointed when I pull up to the place, and spot her redhead through the window, nose buried in a book. So, she does like reading. I smile and get out of my car. The bell rings above my head when I enter the coffee shop, and I look over to where she’s sitting, but she doesn’t look up. I place my order and then add some pastries to it when my stomach growls. After collecting my order, I go to stand by her table, but she still doesn’t notice me. She’s sitting by herself, and I wonder briefly where her friends are.
“You know after you’ve read the dictionary every other book you read is just a remix.” Finally, those pretty eyes look up to me. She flushes immediately when she sees me. Fucking adorable.
“What?” She says after clearing her throat. I take it as an invitation to sit down.
“What are you reading?” I push the book in her hand up using my thumb, so I can read the title. It’s some book on psychology. “Well, that’s unhelpful.” No way I’m going to get anything romantic to use from that.
“What?” She frowns at me. I just smile at her. She’s so pretty.
“Here,” shaking myself out of it, I push the coffees and box of pastries at her. “Got you a coffee.”
She blinks down at the six coffees on the tray and mumbles something.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Which one’s mine?”
“Oh. All of them. I don’t know what you like yet, so I got you a cappuccino, latte, Americano and some shit with syrups on them.” I say as I point out each one. “And these pastries.” I tap the box.
“Um… thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” I beam, and take an apple strudel from the box.
“Thanks for the coffee, but what are you doing here?” She chooses the butterscotch latte, and I commit it to memory.
“I came looking for you.” I shrug and take another bite of the deliciously sweet pastry, wondering if she tastes as sweet. I figure she probably does.
She freezes, coffee cup an inch from her mouth. “Why?”
“I wanted to talk to you.” Duh.
“About what?”
“Well, I need to know some things. Like your favorite color. Do you have any hobbies? Do you have any siblings? Your hopes and dreams. What kind of movies you like? It’s not The Notebook, right?” I wipe my hands on a napkin, and stare at her, waiting for an answer.
She places the cup back on the table. “I’m not sure what’s happening here, but…”
“Oh sweet, is this your phone?” I point at the phone on the table next to her coffee, and grab it. I dial my number, and wait for my phone to ring.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling myself.” I shrug. “I’m going to need your number, if I’m going to text you. Duh.” I set her phone back next to her coffee.
“Alex..”
“You remember my name.” I smile at her like a fool. “Where are your friends?”
“They had classes to get to. Alex, look… I don’t know what you’re trying to do with all this,” she gestures to the things on the table and then at me. “But I’m not interested.”
“I saw the way you looked at me last night, Quinn. You’re lying.” I narrow my eyes and give her a self-satisfied smile. Her mouth opens and closes. She can’t argue.
“What else was I supposed to be looking at?” She says finally. She takes a sip of her coffee and gives a little moan at the taste. I did good.
“You were all over me when I won the race. Didn’t have to do that.” Another excellent point, Alex. I mentally pat myself on the back. Good brain.
“I was just caught up in the moment. It was exciting.” She tries to defend herself, but it falls a little flat from the blush creeping up her neck.
“Well, then you’d better plan on doing more of that. I’m an exciting guy.”
“Alex, I have a boyfriend.” She whisper-shouts across the table, her eyes wide.
“Yeah, but the wrong one.”
She groans in frustration and packs her book and her phone away while mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like ‘crazy, impossible boy.’
“I have to go now. Thanks for the… coffees.” She says it in the same way you talk to a child who doesn’t understand why he can’t have ice cream for breakfast before walking away.
“You’re welcome” I call after her and watch her ass in those tight jeans as she walks away. I frown when I notice a guy a few tables over checking her out. “Hey, you. Guy in the green shirt,” I stand to my full height and point at him. “Get your eyes off my girlfriend’s ass!” I shout. She buries her face in her hands and groans before shoving her way out of the door.
I take my phone and tap out a text.
*Your ass looks about as sweet as that shitty syrup you have on your coffee*
I watch her through the window as she reads it, a shocked laugh escaping her lips.
She looks at me and shakes her head, but she can’t keep the smile off her face.
When she’s out of sight, I pull the list from my pocket and a pen from my backpack.
- Balloons.
- Shitty syrupy coffee.
- Psychology.