Love Out of Order (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 8

  This was not happening. I stopped, plastered a fakeas-hell smile on my face, and turned around. There was John and his Heidi Klum knock-off. The first time John had spoken to me in over a week. And look at the moment he’d chosen.

  “Hey, John.” I forced the words out of my mouth in a voice I didn’t recognize.

  “Sasha, this is my friend, Denise. Denise, this is my girlfriend, Sasha,” John said.

  I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t look like he thought he’d done anything wrong. He was acting like I was just some random girl he knew from class.

  “Denise, I haven’t really seen you around lately.”

  “Yeah, well, you know, finals coming up. And— journal stuff and all,” I said, forcing that smile to stay on my face while thinking that he hadn’t really tried to see me lately. It was hard for me to believe the person standing before me was the same person from the rooftop. I began to wonder if he had split personalities.

  “Hey, Sasha. It’s nice to finally meet you,” I said, sticking out my hand. I thought my cheeks would burst if I had to hold that plastic smile much longer. Sasha smiled her cold, barely civil smile. Or maybe she was baring her teeth at me. I couldn’t really tell. I pulled my hand back since she obviously had no desire to take it.

  “Yeah,” she said. She started pawing through her leather Coach bag. “John, honey, aren’t you taking me to get a manicure before all the shops close up in this pathetic excuse for a city?”

  “Okay, well, later, Denise,” John said, smiling as if we were really cool.

  “Yeah,” I mimicked Sasha’s greeting to me earlier. She had to be naturally nasty. There was no way she could know anything.

  I thought I saw a frown on his face as they turned away. I watched them walk off together. He leaned in close and said something to her. Her response to him didn’t seem friendly. His body tensed and he said something else. I turned away with the hope that they were fighting. I couldn’t watch them any longer, though. I couldn’t stand the sight of Sasha.

  I forced myself not to storm to my car. I refused to look fazed. Inside, I was boiling. Inside, I pictured myself ripping Boston College Barbie’s head off, reattaching it and ripping it off again. I needed to get downtown. I needed some drinks.

  Shockoe Slip and the Bottom are great places for people-watching on Friday night. Central, Richmond, VCU and VUU undergrads dressed to impress. Drunks stumbling around. Music blaring out of pubs, clubs and bars. People just generally having the times of their lives. I don’t get there often enough.

  I love Richmond at night. Richmond has a good blend of cosmopolitan flavor and rural charm. Bright city lights and a hometown feel.

  We went to a club in the Bottom we frequent because Astoria knows a couple of the bartenders and so we always get generously poured drinks there. It’s a good spot. The DJ is usually decent. And the clientele is a little less violent there than in some places in the area. I’m not interested in seeing a bunch of fighting and posturing. I just want to dance.

  Astoria was her usual crazy self. She was off dancing with some trying-to-be-gangsta. Tia sat next to me, feeling the beat to whatever smack-a-ho, kill-a-snitch nonsense was playing that I can only tolerate because of the beat.

  Suse was on my other side, swirling the stirrer around in her mixed drink. She had gotten over what I said enough to come out with me that night. Plus, I think she knew I really needed her that night. She’s a better friend than I deserve.

  “Not again,” Suse muttered, rolling her eyes and putting her drink down. She took her cellphone out of her brown leather clutch. I saw a message notification as she flipped open the phone.

  “Charles?” I asked.

  She sighed, nodding as she started texting him back. “Yeah. I’m going up to Louisa to spend the rest of the weekend with him starting tomorrow morning. And he’s pissed I’m not coming tonight even though he has to go to Charlottesville to take his mom to work tonight anyway.”

  “I’m sorry.” I added to myself, What’s new?

  “It’s not your fault he’s being a baby,” Suse said, closing her phone. “I don’t know why I’m putting it back in my purse. He’s gonna text me right back.”

  I nodded, staring across the bar. I had a sour look on my face. I knew I looked too scary for anyone to ask to dance or to even come near with that expression on my face. And I was glad about that.

  “You want to talk about it?” Suse smoothed out the cotton fabric of the skirt of her orange dress.

  “Not unless we can talk about what horrible skanky skeeze Sasha is,” I said. I knew Suse didn’t like it when I talked like that, but I had enough vodka in me not to care.

  “Now you know what I have to say about that,” Suse said, taking her phone out of her purse. She hadn’t been kidding about Charles.

  “She couldn’t even bring herself to say hi to me,” I said, glowering at no one and nothing in particular. I couldn’t even enjoy the sexy I’d created for myself that night. My makeup was perfect—smoky eyes, dark lip stick and a gold eye shadow, all of which highlighted the angular features of my face. I wore a V-neck, knee-length black cotton dress with cap sleeves. And on my feet were my most recent splurge—black Italian leather pumps.

  Suse slumped forward and twisted her promise ring around her finger like she always did when she was getting fed up. “She probably knows. She can probably tell.”

  “She doesn’t know,” Tia chimed in. “All she knows is how to be a skank. I know her kind.”

  “Exactly,” I said. Was I agreeing with Tia? Wow. “Hm. Okay,” Suse said.

  I didn’t need to see her face to know her lips had gone tight, her face muscles clenched and she was turning bright red. That’s how Suse dealt with disapproval, dislike, and disagreement. She was not confrontational. She was so passive-aggressive that she could annoy the crap out of me with it as much as Astoria could by getting in my face. And speaking of Astoria . . .

  “She never gives up,” I said.

  “What . . .” Tia started. Her voice trailed off as I pointed to Erich just walking through the entrance to the dance floor. “. . . .n the world does Astoria think she’s doing?”

  “Having good sense,” Suse said snippily. That was her way of feeling justified. She had gotten back at me. And someone else believed she was right. At least in her mind.

  “Hey,” Erich said, greeting us all, but he zoned in on me. Suse and Tia said hi to him. The look he gave me let me know all the time I’d spent getting ready that night hadn’t gone completely to waste.

  I nodded a greeting to him. Then I downed the rest of my screwdriver.

  “Can I get you another?”

  I shrugged and Erich stepped up to the bar.

  Hadn’t we had talk after talk after talk about Erich? I was so mad, I couldn’t speak. Besides, anything that would have come out of my mouth would have been unfair to Erich. He hadn’t done anything.

  “I saw your editorial in the paper last week. It really moved me. I don’t think Central does enough to reach out to underprivileged kids with an interest in higher education, either,” Erich said.

  I shrugged. I had written an editorial for the law school’s newspaper the previous week. It hadn’t been a big deal. It was based on some research I’d been doing for my student note for law review anyway. I dashed it off one night when I hadn’t been able to sleep. Because of Mr. Sasha, of course.

  “Thank you,” I managed when Erich handed me my drink. Astoria was making her way over with Mr. Hood Gangsta. My eyes narrowed to slits and I could barely see out of them.

  “Erich. I’m so glad to see you!” Astoria exclaimed, hugging Erich. “Is Denise playing nice?”

  “Nicer than you,” I said.

  Erich looked confused. I almost felt sorry for him. Eventually, he would stop coming around if for no other reason than he thought I was a big freak. I was looking forward to that day.

  “Erich. Isn’t this the song you were talking about the other day?” Astoria said,
dancing up on Hood Gangsta. “Oh, I’m sorry, y’all. This is Terrell.”

  We all greeted him. Terrell mumbled a return greeting. Hood Gangsta had a name.

  “Denise. You haven’t danced since we got here.”

  “Come on, Erich. She’s not going to leave us alone unless we get out there.” I threw my screwdriver back, downing it like a straight shot. I grabbed poor Erich’s arm and headed for the dance floor.

  “What’s up with your girl?” Erich asked me as we fell in with the beat.

  “She’s out of her mind. I dunno.”

  “I need to ask you something about you and John.”

  “There’s no me and John. He has a girlfriend.”

  “That’s what Stori said, and what he says even, but I have to ask if there’s something there. ’Cause I like you and I just want to know before I make a fool of myself.” Erich rushed his words, like he was almost afraid to speak them.

  I stopped, my arms still in mid-air. This was the moment I’d dreaded. And the moment Astoria’s ignorance had been pushing on me for months.

  I leaned toward his ear so he could hear me. “Erich, it’s . . . complicated. You’re a nice guy and all. And I don’t want to pull you into all the confusion. I think you’re cool as a friend. But—it’s just—really complicated.”

  Erich nodded. “Well, it’s good to know where I stand.”

  I was going to kill Astoria. Bring her back to life. And kill her again. And rinse and repeat until satisfied with the results.

  “I hate this song,” I said, grateful for a change in song to give me an excuse to get out of the most tense situation I’d been in since—well, earlier that afternoon when I’d met Sasha. What a day I was having.

  Erich nodded. He looked like he wanted to leave as badly as I did. I felt like such an ass. And it was all Astoria’s fault.

  I rushed over to Suse and Tia. Erich went over to Astoria and Terrell.

  “Erich just asked me if I had something going on with John because he wants to ask me out. See what Astoria and her meddling have gotten me into?” I said.

  “Well, I think you should give Erich a chance. Forget about John,” Suse said.

  I knew her frustration at Charles combined with her sense of self-righteousness was making her worse than usual, but my frustration combined with alcohol was a bad answer to Suse’s attitude.

  “Suse, please. I don’t know what your real deal is about me liking John—”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh please. I think you know.” I grabbed my purse from the stool next to Suse. “But anyway, I can’t be here anymore right now.”

  Her eyes widened and she pinched her lips together. Even though I couldn’t see the color in the dark club, I knew her face was habañero red as well. “Denise, don’t try to turn this into something it’s not. I have never done anything to make you think—”

  “I don’t want to hear it!”

  Suse’s mouth dropped open.

  I turned to Tia, who looked bewildered. Her eyes had been moving back and forth between us. “Tia? Can you take me home?”

  “Sure.” Tia jumped up, looking glad to go.

  “Good. Tell Erich and Astoria I left,” were my parting words to Suse. Without giving her a chance to reply, I turned on my heel and headed for the exit, Tia behind me.

  “You okay, Denise?” Tia asked once we were outside. “No,” I said as we headed for the pay parking lot where Tia’s car was.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  I flipped off a group of guys who were cat-calling us and drew my jacket closer around my shoulders. “No.” I knew Tia had to think I was crazy. Maybe she was attributing it to my drunkenness. Maybe not. I didn’t care. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

  Seeing her slammed it home for me—ripped my ability to lie to myself about John right out of my hands. Sasha fit right in. I was a far cry from the perfect fit. I didn’t have a surgeon dad and a socialite mom. I hadn’t gone to some private boarding school in upstate New York for high school. I wouldn’t know the first thing about a debutante ball. I was pretty sure coming out parties had something to do with sexual orientation.

  I knew I’d been rotten to every single person I’d come across that night, but it was hard to put on a pleasant front after having my inkling of hope snatched away from me.

  Chapter 10

  WTF?

  After the weekend of Sasha, I reached a low point. Lindie James, the leader of the law review, made my miserable life even less bearable. What a horrible little cretin. I don’t think she liked the idea of me being on the journal at all. I had been spending a lot of time in the journal office, which was making the situation with Lindie progressively worse.

  I thought that Lindie had something personal against me even though I had never done anything to her that I knew of. She pushed me harder than anyone else on the journal. Harder than my note or articles editors. Whenever there was some tedious task that no one wanted to do, I found myself doing it. She hated every idea I had come up with for a student note, even when my note editor said my topic was fine. Finally, she vetoed both me and my note editor and gave me a topic.

  Most of the time, I did my best to keep her from getting to me. I tried to tell myself that was how it would be in the “real world”, at any rate. But on top of everything else going on in my life, Lindie was more than I could take.

  One afternoon, Lindie and I ended up screaming at each other so loudly in the law review office that several students and a professor came running to see what was happening. I was so embarrassed that I started planning my time in the office around when I knew Lindie wouldn’t be there. Lindie hadn’t seemed to mind. We had been communicating via emails and post-its ever since.

  My episode with Lindie was very indicative of the way things had been going for me. I had been stalking around the law school, becoming increasingly unkempt. By the end of November, I had almost made a uniform out of sweats, a ratty baseball cap, and old running shoes that hadn’t been run in for many years and had definitely seen better days. People were beginning to talk. Of course, that was doing nothing for my “sunny disposition.”

  Then, the pièce de résistance came the day before Thanksgiving break.

  When I saw John standing just inside the journal office, the only thought in my head concerned wondering why he was there. I stopped in the hallway, trying to balance a painfully heavy stack of books, my lunch and my shoulder bag while my laptop bag was slipping down my shoulder. He took the books with my lunch perched on top from me. I walked inside. The office was empty, which was rare.

  “What do you want?” I asked with acid in my voice.

  John drew me to him and kissed me hard. So furiously it almost hurt. My shoulder bag dropped out of my hands. The strap of my laptop bag hit the crook of my elbow. I wrapped my arms around him without thinking. He tightened his hold on me and I suddenly snapped back into myself and pushed him away.

  “Denise—”

  “No. We’ve been here before.”

  “Let me explain—”

  “There’s nothing to explain. We’ve been here before and you were an ass before. And when I was willing to listen to what you had to say—”

  “I broke up with Sasha,” John said.

  Okay, he finally had me speechless. Until he reached out to touch me again.

  I backed away. “What?”

  “We need to have a long talk. I know you’re busy, but it’s important.”

  I was still having trouble processing his words. Sasha had been there not a week before. Okay, this had to be good. Maybe I had to take time out to hear this.

  “After Evidence. I have some free time then if you do,” I said. Man, I was good. That hadn’t sounded at all like I was talking around a heart beating in my throat.

  He nodded, gave me a weak smile, and walked out. No time for law review. I had things to do. I was in sweats! How did these things always happen to me? I needed a consu
ltation, and quick. Astoria hated John. Suse wouldn’t understand. And anyway things had been tense between the three of us since the night of the club incident. There was only one option left.

  I ran to my car and tore out of the school parking lot. Was I really about to ask Tia for advice? I didn’t have to worry over whether she was home or not. Tia didn’t have Tuesday classes and she didn’t leave the apartment if she didn’t have to.

  I careened into my parking space, grabbed my laptop and shoulder bags, and sprinted up the two steps leading to our front door. I burst in and Tia looked at me with narrowed and concerned eyes.

  “What are you doing home?” She looked worried as I fell onto the sofa next to her.

  “I need some advice,” I said, jumping back up. I darted to my bathroom to plug in my flat iron and ripped the baseball cap off my head.

  Tia followed, no doubt curious.

  “John kissed me.”

  “What?” Tia had the same reaction that I had had.

  “Yeah, and he told me he broke up with Sasha and we have to talk,” I said, hurrying to my room with Tia on my heels.

  “So . . . you’re gonna meet him.”

  “I have to, right? I have to find out what this is all about,” I said, pushing jeans out of the way, trying to find the pair I wanted in my closet.

  “Well . . .”

  “Don’t be Astoria. Or Suse,” I said, shooting an accusatory glance at her before heading to my chest of drawers.

  “Just don’t expect too much. And be cool. Don’t let him see you like this,” Tia said. “And don’t wear that.”

  I sighed, tossing an orange sweater aside. I looked up at Tia, who was handing me a pair of jeans. Hm. Better than the ones I couldn’t find.

  “So, what should I do?” I asked, taking a pair of earrings and a necklace from Tia.

  “Just act pissed off no matter what. Let him know he’s been a fool. Be an ass to him like he’s been to you,” Tia said, coming over with my makeup kit. This was good. Makeup was one of the few things she didn’t screw up.

  “Okay,” I said, closing my eyes so she could apply eye shadow. “I do hate him, so that should be easy.”