Love Out of Order (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 2

  “Eh. Sometimes I feel so left out with you two.”

  “You know you wouldn’t want to come,” I said with a laugh.

  Suse shrugged and looked away. I knew she knew it was true.

  We turned to watch the other end of the table explode in laughter. Erich had gotten up from the table and was demonstrating some ridiculous new dance move. Astoria was telling him he had to be exaggerating; that the dance couldn’t be that stupid. He was adamant that it was. I smiled and agreed with Astoria when my opinion was asked. That was the quickest way to get out of any question involving Astoria’s opinion, I knew.

  Suse and I turned away from them again. I stifled a yawn.

  Suse picked at her pale pink nail polish and looked up at me with chocolate brown eyes. “You know, you never told me what happened to you earlier. You told me you were leaving the store around five and you didn’t get to my place until six. I don’t live that far from where you were.”

  I stared at her for a moment, wondering how she would handle the truth. Some things just didn’t happen to come up in conversation. But I had my ideas about how she would react. I decided to keep it vague for the moment. I told her about my idiot car and getting both a jump and a study date from a fellow second-year.

  “Wow, a date? Denise, you haven’t even talked about dating anyone since I met you. This is huge!” Suse was clearly enjoying this knowledge.

  “Not a date. People study together all the time.” Yeah, obviously I wanted to think it was. Even though I knew it wasn’t. He wanted some help with Evidence. That was all. But still . . .

  “Anyway, I’m coming over tomorrow to help you get ready.”

  I didn’t object. I knew I could use the help.

  As Suse continued to squeal and throw a fit about my study “date”, I threw nervous glances at Astoria, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on our conversation. I wanted Astoria to know the full story even less than I wanted Suse to know. Luckily, Sharon and Erich had her attention. They were laughing over stories about their summer jobs.

  Eventually, the conversation returned to Suse going on and on about how all the first years loved her and hinting to me that I was really missing out by not coming to the function Monday night. I let her. I contented myself by thinking about John’s emerald eyes and imagining something funny and unforgettable I could say the next afternoon when we met up.

  Annoyed with myself for even thinking it, I still couldn’t help but wonder if John really had a girlfriend. The rumor around school was this alleged girlfriend, Sasha, had already put in her early decision application to our law school. She was apparently a senior at Boston College. I liked to pretend she didn’t exist and hope hard proof of her existence would never come.

  Hey. Even if I had no chance, it was nice to dream.

  The star of the show demanded my attention, announcing that she was ready to open presents and cut the cake. I turned to face her and attempted to push John to the back of my mind. It wasn’t hard to do once I started to worry about Astoria’s reaction to her present again.

  Chapter 2

  STUDY BUDDY

  The next day, I replied to Astoria’s text as I left the library because she’d asked where I was. Still not really feeling like telling her about John, I gave her a vague reply.

  I got into my car, dumped my books and laptop in the passenger seat and started the engine. To my surprise, it sputtered to life on the first try. I took that as a good sign. I did a little happy dance in the driver’s seat as I buckled my seatbelt while still holding my phone in one hand.

  Just as I was about to put my phone in the cup holder, my text message alert tone sounded. I flipped open my phone and found a new message from Astoria.

  Who you studyin’ with? You hate studyin’ with people. Astoria’s message was right to the point, as always.

  A guy. From our evidence class, I again left my return text vague.

  What guy? TELL ME NOW!!! she responded.

  After a hesitant moment, my fingers poised above the keypad, I decided that there was no point in trying to hide it. I typed in my reply, John.

  Archer? The transfer?

  Yeap.

  Oh. Really.

  I decided not to answer her last text.

  * * *

  Suse was waiting for me when I pulled into my parking lot. She looked more excited than I was. She was almost bouncing up and down in front of my apartment door.

  I found Suse’s enthusiasm contagious. “We don’t have much time!”

  I opened the door to my apartment. For once, I barely saw Tia’s mess. Tia was my roommate. She was light skinned and had curly, light brown hair and light brown eyes. She couldn’t have been much over five feet tall.

  It was amazing to me that such a small girl could create such a huge frustration. She left her dirty underwear in the bathroom after taking a shower. She left her clean underwear hanging over the shower rod to dry. She piled oatmeal- and pasta-encrusted bowls in the kitchen sink. And I was sick of seeing her books and clothes sprawled all over the living room. She talked too loudly on the phone. Her boyfriend, Terry, was practically a third roommate. And the two of them had the most obnoxiously loud sex. Astoria sometimes referred to them as “the porno stars.”

  “So . . . smells like your roommate’s been trying to cook again,” Suse said, wrinkling her nose. It did, and it made my stomach hurt.

  “Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s go to my room,” I said, hurrying her into my room. I didn’t know if Tia was there or not—her not answering the door for Suse was no indication. She could have been in her room, passed out. If I didn’t answer the door, there was a very good chance it would never get answered. The main reason I hadn’t fought Terry having his own key was so I wouldn’t have to answer the door for him all the time.

  The apartment always smelled like old cheese except for my room, which constantly had a scented candle burning in it. I had given up on all efforts to keep the apartment clean. As soon as I had cleaned it—back when I was foolish enough to waste my time doing such a thing—she had made a mess again. Sometimes she made a mess while I was cleaning.

  In addition to giving up on keeping the apartment clean, I had given up on discussing any and all issues with Tia that I had with Tia. She would nod and smile, her eyes glazed over the whole time, not listening to a word I said. That glassy stare made me angrier than her mess; just knowing she wasn’t taking me seriously. And after our one-sided conversations, the place would be just as nasty as before, if not more so. And so I just lived and let live. And bided my time until May.

  “Who is this guy? You never even gave me a name,” Suse said, grinning.

  “John. He’s one of the transfers.” I hoped my tone came off airy, as intended, and not insanely hopeful, like I felt. “So, what should I wear?”

  Suse was already in my closet. “So, tell me more about John.” She held up a skirt, frowned and then put it back in the closet.

  “Well, he’s tall. He’s got dark hair. He’s hot. He seems really funny from his comments in class. I’ve never had a real conversation with him before yesterday, though,” I said, deliberately leaving out any racially descriptive words.

  “Sounds like a catch,” Suse said, grinning.

  “Well, it’s just coffee at B and N. And Evidence. I don’t want to build it up too much and then get disappointed.”

  Suse nodded, scrutinizing a pair of jeans before tossing them back on the closet floor. “Denise, you either need to start hanging things up or start ironing.”

  “Eh.” I shrugged and went to find my makeup bag. I knew it was buried in one of the plastic containers stacked in the corner of my room.

  “It’s a miracle. I think I found something,” Suse said. She handed me a striped button-down shirt and a camisole. She then took my make-up bag away from me. “We have to make you a sexy study buddy.”

  I laughed.

  “You know, you really should wear makeup more. At least eye makeup. You have such gorgeo
us eyes.” Suse handed me the eyeliner pencil because she knew I had this huge fear of being blinded by one and had to do that part myself.

  I looked into the mirror, holding the pencil off to the side. People always said that about my eyes. They’re wide-set and brown and complemented my high cheekbones. At least that’s what the lady at the makeup counter at Macy’s told me once when I let Suse drag me over to her.

  After Suse and I primped me for my study date, she wished me luck and left. My heart started slamming against my rib cage as soon as she drove away from my apartment complex and reality sank in. I was about to meet John Archer outside of class. Just the two of us. I hoped. I would feel like such a fool if a whole group of people were there. And if I didn’t hurry, I would be late.

  I jumped into my car and started the ignition. Success again. At least my car was on my side that afternoon. My palms were sweating like I was about to give an opening statement. I couldn’t stop shaking even though I had the heat on full blast. The weather was a lot colder than it had been the day before, but not cold enough to have me shivering like I was. I sat there, thinking of all the horrible things that could go wrong as my car warmed up. Man, I needed a new car. I had too much time to think on my hands. And I was really torturing myself.

  What if John didn’t show up? What if he forgot? What if he never intended to show up? What if he showed up with his hot girlfriend? Somewhere inside, I knew that was unlikely since I’d heard she lived in Boston and it was Sunday afternoon, but rationality wasn’t my strong suit at that moment.

  Finally, mercifully, my car warmed up and I was off. The drive was not a long one, but I felt like was driving to Fredericksburg instead of just a few miles down the road. I sang along with the radio at the top of my lungs to a song I didn’t know the lyrics to. I did a quick mental review of what we had covered in our last Evidence class. I tried counting the number of black cars on the road, the number of cars with tint, the number of cars with luggage racks, the number of SUVs; but nothing would suppress the dominant thought flashing in neon lights in the center of my brain. I was meeting John Archer. To study. Just to study. Why wasn’t that last part resonating with me?

  When I got there, it took me forever to get out of the car. I dropped everything I was trying to carry several times. Except, thankfully, for my laptop. As I finally closed my car door, I caught sight of a Kompressor parked in the row of cars in front me. It had a Connecticut license plate. I stared at the blue and white license plate, clutching my Evidence book to my chest. It had to be John’s. How I happened to park in the row behind him, I had no idea. All of a sudden, I really had to pee.

  I spotted him as soon as I walked into the café area. My eyes went straight to him whenever he was in a room. He sat back in a leather armchair, his ankle crossed over the opposite knee. He was on his cellphone, laughing at something. His light blue sweater fit him in a way that made my already embarrassing and irrational perspiring worse.

  Someone bumped me from behind, muttering an apology, bringing me back to earth. I took a deep breath and walked over to him.

  “. . . .ove you, too. All right. Bye,” I heard him say as I started setting down my things. My heart sank and I tried to convince myself that he had been talking to one of his parents while really believing it had been his supposedly model-gorgeous girlfriend.

  I sat down and opened my laptop. I averted my eyes, keeping them trained on my computer screen. I had never felt more awkward in my life. I knew it was only a matter of time before I made a giant fool of myself.

  “Hey,” John said.

  I made the mistake of looking up. Right into those gorgeous green eyes. And that perfect smile. He looked like one of those guys on a poster in the window of a clothing store. Of course his girlfriend looked like a model. What was wrong with me? I had to get it together so John wouldn’t think I was some weirdo stalker groupie girl. Evidence. Right. That’s what I was there for. That’s all I was there for. I had to get my mind right.

  “Hi,” I said, but no sound came out. C’mon! I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hi, John.” I concentrated on the moose logo on his sweater so that I wouldn’t have to look at his distracting, heart-stopping face.

  “I forgot my Evidence book. I thought I had it in my trunk, but realized I didn’t once I got here. I guess I left it in my locker. I hope you don’t mind sharing,” John said.

  I had to force myself to focus on his words and not on his . . . the rest of him. “Not at all.” I held out my Evidence book, willing my arm not to shake. He took it and his fingers brushed the tips of mine. Okay, so now I really had to pee.

  He moved his chair closer to mine. He smelled so good. Like one of those men’s colognes I sniffed wistfully at the department store sometimes, wishing I had someone to smell. I jumped up, grabbing my laptop at the last moment before it fell off of my lap. How had I forgotten it was there?

  “You okay?” John asked, poised as if he’d been about to grab my laptop, too.

  I nodded. “I’ll be right back,” I said weakly, setting my laptop down in the chair I had occupied a moment before. I hurried toward the restrooms before John had a chance to respond.

  I felt a lot better when I came out of the stall. I washed my hands and dried them, happy that there were paper towels. Hand driers annoyed me. I had never come across one that actually dried my hands. I wet a second paper towel and held it to my forehead. I wished I had deodorant in my purse. I usually kept some in there for after the gym since I didn’t want it to sit in my gym bag in the car all day. It was my kind of luck that I had taken it out at some point between my last gym trip and heading over to meet John.

  “Are you okay, honey?” A woman’s voice jarred me back to the present.

  My eyes flew open to the sight of an older, brown-skinned woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. Her smile made me feel a little better.

  “Yeah. I’m just a little overheated. I need to take this jacket off,” I rambled, nodding.

  She nodded back. “Just makin’ sure. You look like you might need to lie down.”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” That was a big, fat lie. But standing in the bathroom talking to her was even more awkward than being out there talking to John. I thanked her again and hurried out of the restroom.

  “You okay?” John asked.

  I sat down next to him and placed my laptop on the small table in front of us. I didn’t trust it back on my lap at that moment, so soon after my close call. “Yeah,” I said, getting sick of that question. Then again, I reminded myself, I wouldn’t keep getting that question if I didn’t keep acting crazy. “So, what is it about the reading you didn’t get?”

  It had to be my imagination. When I looked up, John looked away, suddenly very interested in my Evidence book. Had he been staring at me?

  “Why don’t we just start by going over what happened in class? Because I think just about everything went over my head today,” John said with that disarming smile.

  My mouth went dry. How was I supposed to concentrate on anything with him looking at me like that? Sitting so close to me? How was I supposed to remember anything except his name?

  Somehow, I made it through the evening without making too much more of a fool of myself. And I actually had fun once I got over my nerves. John was great. Cute. Smart. Just perfect. With the perfect girlfriend to match or so the rumors went. He didn’t bring her up that evening and neither did I. I was still trying to pretend she didn’t exist. Still, knowing all of that, I shouldn’t have had so much trouble talking myself out of the possibility of him liking me.

  John walked me to my car. We laughed about something that happened in class Friday. When we got to my car, he put my books and laptop inside for me.

  “That was really helpful. I think we should get together once a week. If you wouldn’t mind,” John said.

  Mind? I had never had a study partner before or been in a study group. I studied better on my own. But there was no way I was turning down a chance to sp
end more time with John.

  “Yeah. That’d be good,” I said. I wanted to be funny, witty, charming. But I felt all I’d done the whole time was laugh too hard and make limited, stiff responses like the one I just had. Man, I could have written the book on how to be lame. Being around him just stole my ability to be articulate.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll see you around,” John said.

  I nodded. Don’t go! “Yeah. See you at school,” I said. I watched John walk to his car, trying not to feel disappointment that he was leaving. He was just my new study buddy. That was all.

  Somehow I always ended up on the losing side. And the last time I’d ended up there had been enough for me. Too much, actually. I was done with all of that.

  Even though I had been devastated by my one breakup, I knew I should have seen it coming. Joe had beat all the hope out of me relationship-wise, but I was finally okay again. Relationships just didn’t work out for me. And I tried to avoid thinking about them for that reason.

  Chapter 3

  BUILDING ROMANCE—

  OR DAYDREAMING

  ABOUT IT, ANYWAY

  After an intense, blurred week of a lot of school, a little bit of sleep, and much insanity since I apparently was in a contest with myself to see how many organizations I could join without dying from exhaustion, I was happy to be free. Well, sort of free. I might have been working, but at least I was outside on a warm, sunny Saturday afternoon in late September. And I was having a good time wedged between Suse and Astoria on the roof of a house. We volunteered with Habitat for Humanity a few times a semester through an organization on the undergrad campus. The group was called The Community Project. Suse had been a member of it as an undergrad and told us about it. She chose Central Virginia University for undergrad as well as law school.

  “It is too hot to be up here much longer,” Astoria said, sitting back on her calves and swiping her hand across her forehead.

  “We just got up here,” I said, tucking a stray bit of hair back into my ponytail.