Eighteen

He avoided me the next day, even at work. We had three carts of documents and things to reshelf on the closed stacks, which meant we were going to be alone up there for hours. Luckily, I brought the radio and turned it on as soon as we wheeled the carts, Dolly and Daisy and Dulcie, off the elevators. One of the other student workers had named all the carts and put little cow faces on them. I understood the obsession with naming inanimate objects. Exhibit A: Sassy, my car.

He took Dolly, which had the beginning of the alphabet, so I grabbed Dulcie, which was at the end. We’d have to work together when we got to Daisy, but maybe we wouldn’t get to it today, and then one of the other student workers would deal with it.

I finished my first cart faster than I would have liked. There were a lot of big books on it that were right in a row call number wise, so I sat there with the empty cart. I’d heard Hunter quietly working, but I didn’t know if he was finished. God, what a baby. Suck it up.

I reached the cart just as Hunter did. Of course.

“Come on,” I said, dragging the cart to the right aisle. I started grabbing things and shoving them on the shelf. They were in relatively the right place. A hand reached out to stop me.

“I know you said you didn’t want this, but here’s the thing. I don’t believe you.” He held my wrist gently, but I couldn’t seem to move. He put his hand on my waist and slowly turned me around, as if we were dancing. We faced each other, and I couldn’t escape his intense gaze. His eyes were locked on mine and they weren’t going to let go. I was trapped.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you. Tell me you don’t like it when I do this,” he said, running his hand down my arm. “Tell me you don’t like it when I touch your hair…” He did so, brushing it behind my ear. “Tell me you don’t like it when I touch your face.” He brushed his hands on both of my cheeks, moving up to my forehead and then back down. He rubbed both thumbs over my lips.

“Tell me you don’t like it when I do this.” He leaned his head closer, stopping just short of my lips. “Tell me to stop and I will. You’re in charge, Missy.”

Oh, but I wasn’t. I’d never been so out of charge in my life. I hated being so out of control with him. This was only the second time it had happened, the first being Saturday night and the recliner incident. I closed my eyes and prayed to whoever would listen to give me some control so I could say no.  

I wasn’t some horny teen girl with raging hormones. I was Taylor Caldwell, Ice Queen. That was what they had called me in high school. The boys had avoided me for fear of getting their balls frozen off. Or so they had said. I didn’t mind. It made things easier. Any boys who had wanted to try and break through my exterior had been quickly squashed like bugs.

Hunter was different. He’d seen through my exterior, seen through the wall of tangled thorns that guarded me. And here he was, asking me if I wanted to let him try to break through. 

The answer was yes.

And no.

I was going to hell.

I leaned forward until our lips met. This time he waited for me. I pushed closer, and he responded, jamming me up against the shelf and devouring me once again. Were his kisses ever gentle? I hoped not.

My hands were trapped above my head so I couldn’t touch him, but he was pressed against me, so I could feel him on every inch of my body, even through our clothes. I let my worries about control fade away, like letting go of a balloon string and watching it float away. Hunter demanded my attention.

I made a little moaning noise and he laughed, slowing our kisses so they were sweeter. Also, I could breathe better. Not that breathing mattered a whole lot at the moment. It was secondary.

I pulled my head back, feeling dizzy.

“I don’t like you,” I whispered, giving him one last soft peck. 

“Sure,” Hunter said, reaching around me. I thought he was going to assault me, but he was just reaching for a book. “You just keep telling yourself that.” He shelved the book above my head, looking down at me and smiling slowly. 

“Get back to work, Miss Caldwell.”

I grabbed the nearest book and wacked him with it. 

“Dark. I like dark chocolate.”

*****

That night a bar of expensive dark chocolate found its way onto my pillow. Wonder how that got there. I picked it up and found something else. A black velvet box. What. The. Fuck.

With trembling hands, I picked it up, my brain telling me it must have fallen there by mistake. Maybe Renee had left it in my room, or thought it was mine, or maybe it was a gift from Mase to Darah and he decided to hide it in a place where she wouldn’t find it or…

Just open the damn box.

Slowly, with a little creak, the box opened. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

There was a ring inside. For like, fingers and such. It was gorgeous, with a clear blue stone in the middle, surrounded by what I thought might be diamonds (and I prayed were cubic zirconium) and then a double row of greenish stones of alternating sizes, all wrapped with silver. It made me think of a peacock feather.

“It’s not what you think,” Hunter said, scaring the bejeezus and daylights out of me all at once. I dropped the box.

“Must reassemble heart,” I said, trying to remember how to breathe. 

“Wow, I didn’t know it would get quite that reaction.” He picked it up and looked at it before holding it out to me.

“What? How? Why?” I couldn’t form coherent words.

“It’s a ring. It’s for your finger. I bought it, and I thought you would like it. And it’s to say sorry for all the douche-y things I’ve ever done. Figured I’d cover my bases.”

“Ring?” 

“Yes. Ring. Hunter,” he said, pointing to his chest. “Missy,” he said, pointing to me. 

I stared down at the sparkly thing. It was so pretty. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Like someone had designed a ring just for me.

“It’s not what you think it is. It’s an apology ring. It’s an I-saw-it-and-thought-of-you ring. It’s not a commitment ring. Promise rings are lame, and you know I’m not proposing. I’m not getting married, ever. So. This is a ring. Just a ring for your pretty finger. I had it sized.”

“When?”

“I measured your finger while you were sleeping one night.”

“What?!”

He laughed at my still-stunned face. 

“Kidding! Damn, you’re weird when you’re surprised by jewelry. I’ll have to do it more often. I stole one of the ones off your dresser I knew you wore a lot.”

“You had this made for me?”

“Kind of. I saw the ring with the blue and the diamonds, and I just thought it could add a little more to make it something you’d love. Do you like it?”

My ears cringed at the word diamond. Maybe I’d heard him wrong. Diamonds were expensive. 

“I don’t like it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I could say the same about you.” I looked up to his face to find him smiling at me. 

“Would you put it on? For me?”

He plucked the ring out of the box and held it out to me. I slid it on my right ring finger. Too much symbolism with the left, at least in the United States. It fit as if it had been made for me. It was so shiny I could barely look away from it.

“How does it fit?” Hunter said, taking my hand and turning so the ring glimmered.

“Perfect.” I still didn’t comprehend the fact that Hunter had bought me a ring with diamonds and God -knew what else in it, as if it was nothing.

“How much?” I said.

“Price doesn’t matter.”

“I thought you didn’t accept money from your family.”

“I didn’t. I bought it myself.”

“With what money?” It had to be crazy expensive. He wouldn’t meet my eyes when I looked up.

“Don’t worry about it. Money is meaningless.”

“No, it’s not. Tell me how much it was.”

“If I do, you’re going to freak out like you did about the house, and then I’ll be forced to kiss you again. Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“It’s not my fault you keep trying to kiss me. How much did the ring cost?”

He grabbed my hands and tried to plant one on me, but I ducked away.

“Are you asking for me to kick your nuts again? Because I totally will.”

“Why can’t you react like a normal girl? Anyone else would be a puddle of goo at my feet.”

“You didn’t give this ring to another girl, you gave it to me. So deal with it.”

“Do you want me to take it back? I’m sure they can cut it apart and use the stones for another ring.”

“No!” It would be a crime to destroy such a lovely thing. Not that I was much for jewelry but this was something different. This wasn’t a ring. This was a work of art.

“Okay then. So I guess you like it.”

“I love it.”

“I have reservations about you wearing a peacock feather on your finger, but that’s just a representation of one, so I guess it’s okay. Just… be careful.”

“Peacocks aren’t bad luck for me,” I said. He had no idea what they meant to me. Or maybe he did. “How much, Hunter?”

“It’s not important, Miss. You’re more important than money. Bottom line.” I wanted to ask him again if he was bipolar. How could he say things like that and then make a comment about my ass the next? He was a conundrum. 

“So the only thing you have left to do is thank me. I know a really special way you could thank me, but it’s really up to you.” And there he was again.

“Okay,” I said, having an idea.

 I crooked my finger for him to come closer. I tipped my head up like I was going to give him a steamy kiss. I bit my lip and his face went blank for a second. Ha. 

I went for his mouth slowly, but moved at the last second, catching him on the cheek for a lightning- fast peck.

“Thanks,” I said brightly before stepping away from him. I needed some space so I could breathe.

“Tease. You’re a tease, Missy girl.”

“You know you love me.”

He shook his head.

“Nope, still don’t like you,” he said with a sigh. 

“Liar,” I countered.

“Hypocrite.” He stepped closer to me.

“Douche.”

He smiled slowly. “Gorgeous.”

“Ass.”

“Sexy.” He was coming for me, and I couldn’t stop him. Somehow I’d have to.

“Stop.”

“Go.”

“Red light.”

“Green light.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he whispered, reaching out to hold my shoulders. “Just say yes. Say you’ll be with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t, Hunter. Don’t ask me again.”

“Aw, Missy. Why do you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry.” My voice broke and I was afraid I was going to cry. No, I was not going to cry. I promised myself no boy, no man, would ever make me cry again. And that was why.  

“I’m sorry,” I said before I ran out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Renee said from the couch where she was ensconced with her nursing books.

“Nothing. I’m going for a walk.”

“But it’s raining.”

“So? I have an umbrella.” I grabbed it from where I’d hung it by the door.

“Don’t open it inside,” Hunter said from the hallway. “It’s bad luck.”

I didn’t respond as I got out of there as quickly as I could.

I walked around campus for two hours, just thinking and looking at the ring. It was still on my finger. He’d said it was just a ring, an apology ring, but it was so much more than that. Rings were symbolic. Rings were in circles. Circles never ended, which was why they were symbols of eternity. No beginning and no end.

God, it was so beautiful. How had he known? Granted, I did have a crap ton of peacock stuff, but the way he’d had it put together was just perfection. He’d been planning this for a while. How long? Yet another question I’d thought to ask him while out on my stroll. Campus was deserted, seeing as how it was too late for most classes and it was raining.

Rain didn’t bother me. Hunter did. My feelings for Hunter bothered me the most.

I didn’t end up crying, but I came pretty damn close. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. I’d never been much of a crier, and after everything that had happened, it was like someone had shut off the valve in my tear ducts.

I wanted to punch him again. I wanted to break things and scream, so instead I kept walking. I walked until I’d made it from one end of campus to the other twice, and my shoes were soaked through. I hadn’t thought to wear my super-cute rain boots I’d bought only a few weeks ago. What a waste.

The ring weighed a million pounds by the time I had made it back to the apartment. I looked down at it one more time. Wow. Just wow.

They were having dinner when I walked in.

“He’s not here. He went to stay with Mase for the night,” Renee said before I’d even closed the door. “What did he do to you?”

“This,” I said, holding up my hand. There was a shattering noise as Renee dropped her plate. 

“It’s on her right hand,” Darah pointed out.

“Oh,” Renee said, leaning down to get the plate. “So I broke a plate for nothing.”

“It’s not exactly nothing,” I said, shucking off my soaked sneakers and socks and laying my umbrella to dry beside the door.

“Lemme see,” Renee said, grabbing for my hand.

“Shit. That is some rock. I’m pretty sure that was what sunk the Titanic.”

“It’s gorgeous, Tay,” Darah said.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“Duh, wear it and make the rest of the female population jealous. Hunter Zaccadelli doesn’t buy girls rings. That’s just not a thing that happens,” Renee said.

“How would you know?”

“No reason,” she said, looking down at the ring again.

“What have you heard?”

“Oh, just that he’s a playboy. One of the girls in my bio class had a friend that got a little burned by him. She was a little bitter.”

“I bet that’s an understatement.” I wondered if she was one of the girls whose numbers was still in his phone. Maybe it was Chastity. 

“What was her name?”

“Briana? Britney? Something that began with a B. Damn, that is some ring.”

It certainly was.

“Are you sure you don’t want him? Because I’d be happy to take him off your hands.”

“What about Paul?” Darah said.

“What about Paul?” Renee snapped.

“Don’t play dumb, Ne. I know he called you and you talked. We sleep in the same room.”

Yeah! The attention was on someone else for a change. I dove in, pestering Renee along with Darah until she spilled that Paul had called her and wanted to meet.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you have him over for one of our potluck nights? Then there won’t be so much pressure,” I said.

“I guess.”

“Do it,” Darah said. “Right now.”

“Okay, okay. Hold your horses.” She got out her phone and sent the text. “There. Happy?”

“Joyous,” Darah said.

“So back to the ring,” Renee said.

I sighed and showed it to them again.

*****

I didn’t see Hunter until the next night when he came back from classes. I was still wearing the ring. I’d gotten compliments on it all day, and more than one of my female classmates had asked if I was engaged. I had to swallow hard and tell them no.

Besides, Hunter had said he didn’t believe in marriage. I hadn’t seen that it was so great either. My parents were divorced, along with half of the married population. The idea that there was one perfect person destined for each of us sounded way too perfect. It was a fairytale, and not reality. Not that I didn’t like to indulge in the occasional delicious fairytale every now and then,. I just knew that I had to come back to reality.

“Should I assume that since you’re still wearing it that you like it and don’t want it to go away?”

“Yes, I like it. It’s just unnecessary. I only asked for chocolate.”

“I had a lot of assery to make up for.” 

“That is true, but I don’t think it was several thousand dollars worth.”

“You don’t know how much the ring cost.”

“No, but I’m not a moron. I can do Internet research as well as anyone else. I can figure out how much each of these stones is worth, generally speaking, and then figure out the setting and labor and so forth. What? You wouldn’t tell me.”

“You are one of the most curious girls I’ve ever met. You just have to know everything.” 

“Curiosity isn’t a sin.”

“Too bad,” he said. I fought the urge to sick my tongue out at him, because that was juvenile, and I was an adult. “Don’t forget, we have mediation tonight at seven.”

“Shit.” I had forgotten. This should be fun.

“We could make a pact to go and just sit there and say nothing like in Good Will Hunting.”

“I would pay good money to see you be silent for a whole hour. Just about as much as this ring is worth.”

“I don’t want the ring back. I’d lose that bet just so you wouldn’t give it back to me.”

“Why, Hunter? According to my research this ring is worth about as much as Sassy. If you couldn’t find housing, where the hell did you get the money?”

“Well, Miss Caldwell, I prefer to discuss these issues at our mediation. I think that’s a more fitting environment, don’t you think?” he said with a smirk. Oh, he was just infuriating. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Be sure to take off the ring before you join me.”

“Never. It’s never going to happen,” I yelled as he walked into our room. 

Oh, but it could. It could be a thing that could happen, if I let it. I stared down at the ring. I didn’t know if it was my imagination that it seemed to get bigger the longer I wore it. Next week I was going to wake up and it would be the size of a football and all the bones in my finger would have been crushed by it. Then I’d have to get surgery and they’d probably never be able to get my finger back to normal and I’d have a funky finger for the rest of my life and a crazy story to tell.

I was thinking way too much about this.

Hunter was quiet during dinner, as if he was showing me that he could be silent. I wasn’t very impressed. If he could do it for an entire day, that would be something impressive.

Renee was off at another study session and Darah was out with Mase, so it was just the two of us. 

“Hey,” he said as we were finishing, “it looks great on you. I’m glad you like it.”

What wasn’t to like? 

“Thank you,” I said again. It seemed to be the only normal response I could think of in regards to the ring.

“You have to stop saying that.”

“Why?” I asked

“Because it makes me feel weird.”

“Weird how?”

He’d said we weren’t going to discuss the ring until our mediation, but here we were.

“It doesn’t seem like enough. Seeing your face when you opened it makes me want to buy you a million things just so I can see that look every single day.”

“I swear to God, if you buy me anything else, I will kill you.”

“And that. I love that you get pissed about it, but love it at the same time. It’s adorable.” 

“Bite me.”

“Such a charming girl. Didn’t they teach you not to say things like that in finishing school?”

“I missed kickboxing last week, and right now I’d really like to kick some boxes. I think you’d like to protect yours.”

“Is that what the kids are calling them these days?” he said, taking our plates and going to the sink. It was Darah’s turn for dishes, which she would do as soon as she got back from her date. She stuck to the chore chart like it was her religion.

Hunter went in our room and grabbed his guitar.

“Got any requests?”

“Rhapsody in Blue,” I said, sort of being sarcastic.

“I gave you a beautiful ring and some chocolate and now you want Rhapsody in Blue? You’re a demanding girl, Missy.”

“Fine. Play whatever you want.”

And then it happened. It was a simplified version, but it was Rhapsody in Blue nonetheless. He did Gershwin proud. Granted, it wasn’t the entire twenty-minute symphony, but it was decent. Hunter made the transitions from one section to the other flawlessly. He was a musical genius.

He ended the song and smirked at me. 

“Next.”

“Why aren’t you a music major?” I’d lost track of how many times I’d asked him that. He always made some comment about his uncle and having a good career and other stuff I could tell he was just spitting back to me. He sounded like a guidance counselor when he talked about it, which was why I knew it was total bullshit.

“I’d rather have a lucrative job as a lawyer instead of saying, ‘Do you want fries with that?’ which is what I’d be doing as a music major.”

“What about music education?” I’d seen him with Harper, trying to teach her a few chords. I’d also seen a pink guitar in her room that I had the suspicion he bought for her.

“Me with a roomful of kids? Are you serious?”

“You’re great with Harper.”

“She’s one kid and she’s different.”

“How?”

“She just is. She’s special.”

“I think you’d be good at it.”

 He started strumming a random melody. Now who was deflecting?

“It’s time for our mediation, Miss Caldwell.”

“After you, Mr. Zaccadelli.”

We trooped downstairs to Chris, our resident director’s, room. Chris was about twenty-five and a grad student in some sort of engineering field I couldn’t begin to understand. He was nice, but awkward. You could tell he was only doing it for the free housing and the stipend they paid him. 

“Hello, Hunter, Taylor. How are we doing?”

“Fine,” we both said at the same time. I glared at Hunter. He winked back.

We seated ourselves on the couch, and Chris got his notebook out. Every now and then he’d make notes while we were talking, like he was a therapist or something. I was dying to know what he’d written about us, but all my attempts to steal said notebook had been futile. Maybe I could rope Hunter into helping me with a distraction.

“So let’s get started. How has this week gone?”

“Fabulous,” I said in a deadpan voice.

“It’s been great for me,” Hunter said.

“Okay,” Chris said, looking down at his notes. “Do you have any issues you feel we should discuss?”

“How about that you won’t stop kissing me?” Hunter said, turning toward me.

“How about the fact that you spent thousands of dollars on a custom-made ring and then just expect me to say thanks, and let’s be together and live happily ever after? How about that? How about the fact that you had some strange meeting with a man named Joe that you won’t tell me about?”

“Uh, let’s, uh, stay on track,” Chris said, floundering. 

“How about the fact that you want me, I want you and for some reason, it’s impossible for us to be together, according to you?

“You still haven’t answered me about Joe.”

“You haven’t told me why we can’t be together.” We were in each other’s faces. His was getting redder, and I was pretty sure mine was as well.

“Because.”

“That’s not a fucking reason, Taylor.” He spat out my name.

“Language,” Chris said. “Let’s cool off for a moment. Do I need to bring out the talking stick again?”

“No,” we both said at the same time.

At our first session he’d had us hold this stupid stick, which was really a baton, so we could practice talking turns talking. It had ended with me hitting Hunter with the talking stick and him laughing. 

I really did want to hit him again, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. Chris had looked the other way on the first talking stick assault, but I didn’t think he’d be so forgiving for a second.

“I don’t want to be assaulted again.”

“I did not assault you.”

“Missy, I really don’t want to go through the legal definition of assault with you right now.”

“Why don’t we start with you, Hunter? What has been bothering you this week?”

Hunter ignored Chris. 

“You’re scared. You’re scared about this big, dark secret you carry around. It’s the reason you don’t trust people, the reason you put up this huge flashing sign that says, ‘Don’t come near me or I’ll kick you in the balls.’ It’s the reason you don’t want to give this a shot. I want to know what it is.”

“No.” He could yell and kiss me and do whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t discussing that with him. The only thing worse about him knowing and then running away would be him accepting it. What then? I’d have nothing left. No other reason to say no.

“See? This is what I have to put up with. She is content to try and root out my secret, but if anyone tries to get near hers, she’s got more walls up than a maximum security prison.”

“Taylor, why don’t you respond?”

“It’s none of his business.”

“You are my business. I made you my business. I want you to be my business.”

“I don’t. That’s all. He wants me, and I don’t want to be with him and he can’t take it. That’s all.”

“Is that true, Hunter?”

“Please, that’s bullshit.”

“Language.”

“I’ll talk how I like, thanks. It’s bull because she keeps kissing me and flirting with me and dancing with me. Either you get a sick kick out of messing with me, or you like me, but you’re scared. I’m going with the second.” He’d hit the nail on the head, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I like messing with you,” I said. 

“Prove it.”

“Bite me.”

“Okay, let’s get more specific. Are there any things that Hunter does specifically that we can talk about to resolve?” He clearly hadn’t been listening, or he was just reading from a script. Probably the second.

“He can stop trying to see me naked. That would be a start.”

“Hunter, do you have a response?”

“If she would just have sex with me, then that problem would be solved. Also, it would get me to leave. Two birds, one stone, Missy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please, let’s keep this civil.” Chris was trying to keep control, but he’d never had it in the first place. “Let’s try a communication game.” Not a game. I didn’t know where he’d gotten these things from, but he made us play one at each of our sessions and they were always lame.

This one involved one of us being blindfolded and the other leading us from one side of the room to the other. It was supposed to build trust, but all it did was make me want to direct Hunter so he’d bump into things. It offered Hunter a chance to make me look like a moron, walking around in a circle with him making me do a crazy dance back and forth. 

“You’re an ass,” I said as we walked back upstairs.

“Nothing I didn’t already know, Miss.”

“I hate you.”

“Nice try.”

“I love you?” Worth a shot.

“Not yet. But you will.” I went to our room and shut the door in his face.