Chapter 2
“So, coffee shop guy final talked to you?” CeCe inquires.
I nod, “Yeah, it was. . .cute.”
“I wonder if you’ll fuck him,” she teases as she continues to hang her clothes in her closet.
“Do you always have to be so vulgar?” I ask as I toss a pillow at her face.
“Do you always have to be such a prude? He’s obviously taken a liking to you.”
I roll my eyes, “He probably noticed me staring at him. He was probably just trying to be nice.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” CeCe says as she gyrates her hips.
Ugh. I know CeCe is going to a frat party, but I’d rather stay home and read. As nerdy as it sounds, I’d rather spend the evening alone reading than spend a night with a bunch of drunks at a frat party. CeCe complains as she gets ready because I haven’t gone to any parties with her in almost a year and I read all the time.
“It’s summer break. You have plenty of time to be lame later.”
“Oh please. You know I don’t like going to those things. The girls are always throwing themselves at the drunk or high guys. It’s just not my scene.”
CeCe pulls her t-shirt off and heads for her newly unpacked closet. CeCe wears a lot of black and keeps her wardrobe organized by season and frequency of use. She comes out of the closet holding up two shirts that look identical to me, so I pretend to scrutinize each garment before choosing.
“Hmmm, the black one.”
“Har-dee-har-har,” she looks at them both and puts one back in its place.
“Why do you even go to those things? You know you’re just going to get drunk and make some stupid mistakes.”
“Maybe if you were with me, I’d behave myself.”
“You mean, if I went with you, you’d have a babysitter.”
“Tomato, to-mah-to.”
I groan loudly. I was raised very differently from CeCe, she grew up in a rough area and her Latina roots naturally made her tougher than me. I grew up in suburbia with two loving parents and a picture perfect home. With her unusual home situation, she didn’t have the best guidance for making life choices. We balance each other out well, but there are times when I feel like we’re speaking different languages.
“Fine. I’ll go. But only for an hour, then I’m going to come back here to read.”
She squeals with delight and lunges at me for a hug. Now I have to get ready, too. If I were just going to the coffee shop, I’d throw on a t-shirt and jeans, put my hair in a messy bun on top of my head and not give a shit what anyone thought. Since I’m going to a party I guess I need to be a bit more feminine. I go to my room and check the contents of my disorganized closet. I have a very eclectic wardrobe so it’s easy to find what I’m looking for. I decide on a hot pink top that I don’t get to wear often. It’s low cut and doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I pull it on over the tank top I’m wearing and turn to grab my hair straightener. CeCe is standing in my doorway with her arms crossed over her chest as she regards my choice in top.
“What?”
“Chica, you need to wear that shirt more often. I mean, day-um!”
“Oh please. Excuse me for not being a card carrying member of the whore brigade.”
“Bein’ sexy doesn’t mean you’re a whore. And girl, you’re all kinds of sexy under those comfy sweatshirts you like to wear.”
I roll my eyes and start straightening my hair. I know I am definitely not considered unattractive. I’m not your salad and tiny portions kind of girl, but I take care of my body and it shows. Despite my smaller waist line, I have supple breasts and have been a D cup since I started high school. I’m not averse to dressing like a girl, I’m just more comfortable in sweatshirts, t-shirts and jeans. I’ve also found that I have more meaningful conversations with men when I don’t show as much skin. Call me crazy, but I much prefer a strong intellect over a muscle bound meathead. I finally finish straightening the long hair that falls to my mid-back. I’ve always been a brunette, but my naturally milk chocolate hair reveals hints of gold.
We’re both ready so we head to the party. Despite my initial hesitation to attend the party, I’m actually feeling the familiar hum of excitement that runs through my body like a bolt of lightning when I’m looking forward to something. CeCe links her arm in mine and leads the way to the Kappa Phi Fraternity. We decided to walk just in case we both drink a little too much. It’s a long trek across campus but we make up for it by giggling the whole way. I hear the thump of the music when we’re about a block away.
I truly hate attending parties like this. There are so many bodies squeezed into one place and it makes me a little nauseated. CeCe grabs a beer while I go in search of the hard liquor. I’m in the middle of making myself an Iron Butterfly when I realize there’s no Kahlua. I decide to be nosey and head to the walk-in pantry off the kitchen. I’m rummaging around when the door abruptly closes behind me. Frat boys are so childish. I reach for the pull string above my head so I can keep searching.
I find the Kahlua and pour it in my drink. I take a few sips relishing the temporary hideaway the pantry has given me. The door opens far too quickly and I’m forced to leave the isolation I’d been enjoying. I find CeCe and we shout over the music at a few familiar people. People are dancing and making out, but I’m getting tired. After another hour or so, I whisper to CeCe that I’ve had enough socialization. She laughs but she gets me, so I make my way through the sea of bodies and leave.
I look at my phone and realize it’s already past midnight. I’m not exactly Cinderella, but I definitely shouldn’t stay out this late. I don’t function well on little sleep. I stumble back to the house and collapse on the stairs. I’m a little tipsy from the seven or so drinks I had so I’m enjoying the fresh air. I slowly lean my head back to admire the glowing stars overhead. This neighborhood isn’t close enough to downtown to be significantly affected by the constant glow of city lights. The result is a dull glow in the sky with dots of bright stars.
I must be deep in thought because I’m startled by someone kicking my foot. I whip my head up and find CeCe attempting to stand upright on the sidewalk.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“The sky.”
CeCe tries to tip her head back to look and begins to fall. She rights herself and we both giggle. We stagger up the stairs and head for the kitchen. Before groggily heading, we stuff our faces with hastily made peanut butter sandwiches.
In the morning, I feel a dull headache telling me I drank too much. I shower quickly and pull my hair into a loose bun on top of my head, braiding and bobby-pinning the parts that won’t stay back. I put on a pair of cropped leggings and a long t-shirt before heading out the door. I have my book in my purse so I can spend the morning enjoying Bronte while sipping my coffee.
When I get to the Daily Grind, I’m actually feeling wide awake and refreshed, so I skip the coffee and grab a bottle of water and a lemon poppy seed muffin. After I pay the barista, I snag my usual table. I pull out Jane Eyre and start reading. I unconsciously pick at my muffin while I read and am so engrossed in the story that I don’t notice that someone is watching me.
“Good morning.”
I look up to see who’s standing in my light. It’s Isaac.
“Mind if I sit?” He asks as he takes a seat.
“Uh, no, that’s fine,” I manage to mumble.
“I saw you yesterday in the window.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you live there?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?”
“No, I’m sorry, I saw you too. We just moved in yesterday.”
“I am bothering you. I’ll go. I just thought we could continue our conversation from yesterday. I swear I don’t usually talk to random women at the coffee shop,” he starts to stand and stumbles in his haste.
I grin at the pinkish blush that creeps into his face. He’s shy. That’s sweet. I look at him closely and notice his clear blue eyes for the first time. Now it’s my turn to blush.
“Still reading about Jane, I see.”
“Yes, she’s trying to sort out her feelings for Edward.”
“It really is a dark romance. So many things happen to keep them apart, but they find a way after all they’ve been through.”
I smile and nod because I can’t really focus on anything but his face. He has clean, but coffee stained teeth. He still has that sexy stubble on his face. I can tell his hair had been dark at one point but it had started graying above his ears. The waves I’d noticed previously are also speckled with silver. He’s definitely too old for me. He probably has kids. Not that it matters one way or the other as I have no interest in a relationship. I’ve had enough of those.
When I stop staring at every part of his face, I find that his eyes are full of youth. He’s truly excited to be talking to me. He asks if I want coffee and because I don’t want this to end, I agree. He doesn’t ask what I want, which I find strange but, when he returns he smiles that shy smile again.
“Tall Hazelnut Latte, iced, with a pump of French Vanilla and a dollop of fat-free whipped cream, right?”
I’m shocked. He knows my coffee order? How does he know my coffee order?
“I told you I’ve seen you here before,” he grins and winks.
My stomach clenches and I feel a heaviness in my core. I don’t know what to think so I just laugh lightly and say something about being a creature of habit. The barista calls him over and he brings me my coffee. We both open the lid and sniff deeply. We laugh. His laugh is casual and free, it’s amazing. Our eyes lock for a moment and I am lost.
“That’s my favorite kind of romance.”
My brow furrows as I try to figure out what he means.
“The kind that defy the odds.”
“Mine too. I think those love stories demonstrate true love.”
He blushes slightly again. He is too cute! I can’t get over how easy it is to make him blush. After my last boyfriend, I am not interested in a relationship right now; I can’t let myself feel this way. I decide to try a different topic.
“So, tell me about yourself, Isaac. Do you have a family?”
“Oh no. As I mentioned yesterday, I was married a long time ago, but we didn’t have any children. You?”
“God, no. I am not ready for any of that. No man, no kids. I’m just taking care of me right now. I’ll have plenty of time for all that later.”
“Pets?”
I laugh and push my hair out of my face, “No. I don’t have time for that either. Although, I did kill a gold fish last year. There was a funeral. It was deeply moving.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I don’t know if he’s serious so I look at him quizzically. His perfect face breaks into a wide grin and he places a hand over mine and tells me he’s kidding. Suddenly my skin is on fire. The memories of my last relationship start to bubble up and I go into full-on avoidance mode. I feel like I need to get out of there before I make a complete fool of myself. I pull back, grab my book and stuff it in my purse.
“I should go.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“No, it’s not that. I just think I should probably go home and finish unpacking.”
“Let me walk you home. It’s not like it’s out of my way.”
“Sure, why not.”
We walk together discussing the themes behind the stories we’ve read. It’s exhilarating to talk to someone who seems as passionate about books as I do. My friendship with CeCe had never involved books, she wasn’t a big reader. She’d rather watch Love & Hip Hop with a bag of Reese’s Pieces than read a book.
When we arrive at my door, I mutter an awkward goodbye. When I get inside, I peer through the curtains. He looks up and catches me, I feel like an idiot. What am I thirteen? I let the curtain fall from my hand and head to the kitchen to continue unpacking.