Chapter 5
Cassy
The ice cream parlor was old school but homey, as expected of a small town hang-out place. It was nothing compared to the posh coffee shops I was used to. But at least their dessert was delicious, and the company was actually good.
Ivan’s friends from high school were very nice and friendly, and I soon found myself laughing with them. I also enjoyed the fact that they all seemed excited to know more about me and my life in the big city, especially since these were individuals who had settled into this town for good. Some of them had never left this place at all!
I tried not to be bitchy, and I guess I had it in me. I could be pleasant if I wanted to, which means I have my dad’s people skills. This was a useful characteristic in business, after all.
“I really love your dress, Cassy,” Jenny complimented. “It’s so simple but elegant.”
“Thanks,” I said with a smile. I knew I liked her from the very beginning. She was the only other girl (apart from me) who wasn’t wearing a tacky outfit. “It’s Armani,” I added.
“Oh, my gosh!” the other girl Mel exclaimed. “Armani as in Giorgio Armani?!”
Duh… I wanted to say with a roll of my eyes. But I just smiled and nodded.
The other guys looked clueless. Ivan gave out a loud snort and just began chatting with another guy about something else, completely shutting me out.
He was so cocky, probably annoyed that I was getting all the attention when he was supposed to be this sports superstar who was back from the city.
Mel kept on interviewing me about how partying was like in Windfield. I gave her a rundown, which made her ooh and aah and sometimes open her mouth with a look of horror. I honestly wanted to take a snapshot and show it to Charlene.
“You know, I can make you girls a dress like this,” I suddenly blurted out.
They both looked at me in awe. “No way,” Jenny said.
“Yes way,” I said. “But you’ve got to show me where I can buy sewing stuff and fabrics?”
“The Craft Lady!” they both cried out at the same time.
That made the men look at us in a strange way, which made us laugh. The other women were busy with a conversation of their own, mostly about kids. Yes, they were all moms already. I couldn’t imagine myself taking care of a baby or a toddler at this age. I could barely take care of myself!
“We’ll bring you tomorrow, Cassy,” Jenny said excitedly. “You’re staying at Ellen Young’s, right? Oh, you must have gotten her flair for fashion. But well, she wasn’t exposed to the world of fashion you know.”
There it was again, a hint on Aunt Ellen’s fashion inclination. I mentally took note of it, so I could ask her about it one of these days. Who knows? She might actually lend me some support and help me with my project. Or perhaps she could make Dad understand this passion of mine.
After another hour of clean fun, Ivan said he should probably take me home. I groaned, feeling like a high school teen with a curfew. I had more freedom than this when I was sixteen!
I saw the women nudge each other as we said goodbye. They were probably wondering if we had a thing. Glancing at Ivan’s delicious physique, I wouldn’t mind as long as he kept his mouth shut and stopped acting like the “king of the world”.
“Put on your seatbelt,” he commanded once we were inside the car.
“Yes, your highness,” I retorted in a mocking tone. I pulled at the seatbelt, but it had somehow got stuck. I pulled again.
He gave me an exasperated look, but said nothing. Instead, he leaned forward across me to reach my seatbelt, making my heart beat twice as fast. He tugged on it, and how I wished it wouldn’t budge, so I could inhale his scent longer. I wasn’t lucky, though. The stupid seatbelt moved right away.
As Ivan pulled back into his seat, his hand brushed against my bare leg, causing a wave of electric shock to spread out through my entire body. Holy shit.
He was about to drive off when a dark-haired girl suddenly appeared in front of the hood. “Crap!” he shouted in surprise, hitting the breaks. The sudden movement appeared to have put him in pain. He tried not to show it, but he bent his leg quickly, his face growing white.
“Hey, what’s happening?” I asked with concern.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said quickly. I remembered hearing him mention an injury he got in football during his conversation with Aunt Ellen. I had thought he was exaggerating it and trying to be all dramatic about it, but maybe it was really a serious condition.
We didn’t have time to say anything else because there was a series of raps on his window. The dark-haired girl who was probably in her early twenties too was fuming. She had her hands on her waist and was shouting something at Ivan. I couldn’t quite understand what she was saying.
Ivan pressed on a button to roll down the window. “Andrea?!” he said with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“I drove all the way here for you because I was so worried!” she yelled accusingly. “And now I catch you with another girl! How dare you!”
She began punching Ivan’s shoulder through the window. He tried to stop her with his hands, all the while wincing in pain because of his injury.
“Stop it, Andrea,” he said impatiently. “We were never a couple! Why are you acting like a jealous girlfriend?”
“You led me on! You said you loved me, and now you’re denying it? Is it because of her?” She tried to reach out to me in anger. I was about to get all bitchy if Ivan hadn’t butted in.
“You’re freakin’ crazy!” Ivan answered. “I didn’t say that, or maybe I was drunk. I don’t know. Just go home, all right? It’s late!”
“No!” Andrea screamed.
I watched in half fascination and half annoyance. I was going to miss my curfew if I didn’t do something soon. So I gave Ivan a little push. “Go talk to your crazy girlfriend,” I told him. “I’ll drive this thing home before Aunt Ellen tells my dad I’ve gone missing. Just get it tomorrow.”
“What?” he exclaimed.
I opened the driver’s door for him and pushed him out. “Good night, Ivan! Andrea can drive you home. Bye!”
I figured they had issues they needed to address, so it was better this way. I actually left him there with his mouth open in disbelief.
So Mr. Superstar Athlete seemed to be afraid of commitment or perhaps he was just really a player when it came to women. Well, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I shouldn’t even care.
That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I thought of him. I pictured his muscular built in a snug football ensemble, running across a giant field while being cheered on by fans. I recalled how he’d expertly worked with the animals in Aunt Ellen’s farm and had meticulously explained about the farm machinery and equipment. I imagined him cradling me in his strong arms on the haystack, his lips grazing my ear and his hand traveling across my body.
Shutting my eyes abruptly, I tried to brush off all such thoughts. “What’s wrong with me?” I hissed in the dark. “He’s a jerk. I should not be attracted to him at all.”
You always like the bad boys, an annoying little voice whispered in my head.
I literally shook my head and forced myself to go to sleep. After minutes of twisting and turning, I heard a noise outside of my bedroom window. It made me jump, and I hated to admit that I was hoping he’d still come by. But of course it wasn’t him. It was just some farm truck passing by.
He was probably in bed with that woman by now. I grumbled.
I hated that picture in my head. And I hated myself even more for hating that picture in my head.