Mine: A Love Story (14 page)

“Not all that much,” I admit.

He smiles at what was probably an unexpected response.

“Me neither,” he says. “They say misery loves company. What do you say you and I be miserable together for minute or two?”

I can’t help but smile. If that’s a pick up line, it’s one of the strangest ever.

I guess I can spare him a minute or two, though. He seems harmless enough. Besides, it’ll give Marissa a little more time alone with Gary. And this guy does have a really nice smile.

“Sure, why not?” I say.

“Great,” he says. “I’m James.”

He doesn’t hold out his hand, so neither do I.

“I’m Heather,” I reply. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, Heather, what brings you a party like this one?” He glances back over his shoulder for a moment, nodding at the crowd inside. “You don’t seem like most of the other girls here.” He smiles again. “That’s a compliment, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I say. “And yeah, I guess I am different from most of them. I don’t drink, for one thing.”

“I noticed,” he says, looking down at my half full water bottle. “Good for you. I don’t drink either.”

I’m surprised—pleasantly.

“So why are you at a party like this one, then?” I ask.

“I kind of have to be,” he replies. “I live here.”

Now I’m shocked. A frat boy who doesn’t drink? Twitter alert! Newsflash!

I need to know more. “No offense,” I say, “but how’d you get accepted into this fraternity if you don’t drink?”

He laughs. “Simple,” he says. “I lied. Told ‘em I drink like a fish. They’re all usually so drunk at these things they don’t notice I’m not.”

“So, how come you don’t?” I ask. “Drink, I mean.”

He shrugs. “Gotta keep my grades up. I’m from a tiny little town you never heard of, and college is my ticket out of there. The only stoplight in town is a blinking one, and there’s absolutely zero to do. Graduating is the only way to make sure I don’t get stuck back there.”

“I’m impressed,” I tell him. “A guy who thinks about more than how much fun can he have tonight.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “If you ever saw my dad on one of his benders, you’d know how easy it is for me to not go down that road. He’s another reason I want out of there for good.”

I totally understand the wanting to get away from parents thing, though I don’t want to be away from mine forever—just most of the time. But that’s a much more intimate conversation than I’m prepared to have. Apparently, it’s not a topic he wants to get into either, because he steers the conversation back to very safe ground.

“How about you?” he asks. “You from around here?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Right down the road. Less than ten miles from campus.”

“Living at home, then?” he asks, which is a logical assumption.

“No, I live on campus.” I see no need to tell him which dorm. This is just a casual conversation—we’re two ships passing in the night.

He looks at me for a moment. I think he must suspect there’s a reason I chose to live away from home even though it’s so close, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

“So, where’s Jerry Lee tonight?” he asks instead.

Huh? Jerry Lee?
What the heck’s he talking about? He must have me confused with someone else. Maybe that’s why he was watching me before. Yeah, that must be it. He thinks I’m someone else.

“Jerry Lee?” I ask.

“Yeah, the crazy piano player,” he says. “The guy with the beret.”

Oh…he’s talking about Chris. He must have been in The Joint that night. I can see why he’d remember Chris—he put on quite the show—but why does he remember me? Maybe he saw us leaving together. Oh, god! I hope he didn’t see us kissing outside!

“He’s gone,” I manage to say, trying to keep my tone flat and unconcerned. “History.”

“Sorry to hear that,” James says. He sounds really sincere. “You two looked good together.”

“Well, not everything works out the way we want,” I say.

“No, I guess not,” he says. He has enough sense not to pursue the subject, for which I’m very grateful.

“I’d better get back to my friend,” I say. “She’s inside, chatting up one of your frat brothers.”

“Oh? I hope she picked a good one,” he says. “There’s a few of them, but not very many.”

I jump at the chance to learn something about the guy Marissa is clearly interested in.

“His name is Gary,” I say. “Is he one of the okay ones?”

“Yeah, he’s one of the good guys.” James grins. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

I smile. “Your secret’s safe with me. Nice meeting you, James.”

“Same here, Heather.”

And that’s that. He lets me leave without trying to get me to stay, or even pestering me for my phone number. For a minute I think it’s probably because he wasn’t attracted to me at all, but he didn’t have to say anything when I walked past, and he certainly didn’t have to keep the conversation going. No, he seemed to like me, at least a little. I guess he could tell I’m kind of down on guys right now, so why waste his time? Still, I’m glad he let me go so easily. Not all guys would, I know, especially at a party like this.

I find Marissa and Gary right where I left them, chatting away. Marissa glances up at my arrival.

“Hey, Heather,” she says. “You lasted longer out there in the cold than I expected.”

“Not really,” I say. “I got cold pretty quick. I was talking to some guy by the door for a few minutes. One of Gary’s frat brothers.”

“Uh, oh,” Gary says. “Which one?”

“James,” I say, watching Gary’s face for any telltale reaction.

Gary grins. “Oh, he’s all right—for a guy who doesn’t drink, that is. You don’t have to worry about him.”

I wasn’t really worrying about him, but it’s nice to know.

“Just a casual chat,” I say. “Nothing more. I’m not in the market for a guy right now.”

“That’s cool,” Gary says. He turns back to Marissa. “What about you? You in the market?”

Marissa wraps her hands around Gary’s forearm and smiles flirtatiously. “Oh, I’m
always
shopping,” she says. “Are you for sale?”

“You bet,” he says. “Or, if you’d prefer, you could just rent me for the evening.”

Marissa laughs. “Now that’s a tough offer to pass up.” She lets go of his arm and grabs mine. “I told Heather we’d do some dancing tonight, though.”

“That’s okay,” I say, not wanting to get in the way of what looks like a budding romance. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do,” she says. “I want to make sure you have some fun tonight. I already gave Gary my number.” She looks at him. “You’ll call me, right.”

“Definitely,” he says. “Count on it.”

“See?” she says to me. “We’re all set. Let’s go shake, rattle and roll.”

So that’s exactly what we do.

I’m lying on my bed on my stomach, reading a book called
Breathless
for my vampire class. Taylor Swift’s “Speak Now” CD is playing softly in the background. I love the sound of her voice, and I’ve finally reached the point where neither her sad songs nor her love songs hurt too much—as long as I don’t play them too loudly or listen to the lyrics too closely, anyhow. Some of her lines are so poignant and still poke at me pretty good, like that kissing on the sidewalk thing in “Sparks Fly.” That hits way too close to home, since my first kiss with Chris was on the sidewalk in front of The Joint. Get rid of the pain, my ass. Can you tell I’m still a little bit angry?

I’ve been reading some of
Breathless
every night for the last couple days. I can totally identify with Leesa, the main character. She’s a college freshman, like me, and kind of shy and awkward—again like me. She sounds like she’s much prettier than me, but she doesn’t realize how cute she is. Marissa would say that’s just like me, too. Leesa’s home life is totally messed up—way worse than mine, for sure. Her Dad left when she was really young, and her Mom won’t go out of the house during the day, saying the sunlight hurts her skin because she was bitten by a one-fanged vampire, of all things. I bet you never heard of one-fanged vampires before.

I could go on and on about all the cool stuff in the book, but the part I’ve just
got
to talk about is the romance. Leesa meets this gorgeous guy named Rave. The chemistry between them is immediate, but there are a couple of problems. Rave doesn’t use any sort of modern appliances, not even a cell, which makes him kind of hard to get a hold of, let alone get together with, especially since he doesn’t live on campus. At first, Leesa thinks it’s a religious thing, but she soon learns better. You see, Rave isn’t human—and no, he’s not a vampire, either. He’s a volkaane. Volkaanes are supernatural vampire hunters. They look human, but they possess this magical inner fire they use to slay vampires. That’s kind of cool, right? To be dating a guy who can protect you from a vampire? Only problem is, the heat of his kiss could kill Leesa. And that’s not so cool, no pun intended. Not cool at all.

Anyhow, despite all these obstacles, Leesa and Rave fall in love. Some of their scenes together are so tender and passionate they almost make me change my mind about giving up on guys. But they make me sad, too. If Leesa and Rave can make things work despite all their challenges, how come I can’t find a decent guy to be with? Maybe having a mother who was bitten by a vampire and a brother who disappears is less damaging than parents who constantly fight and a boyfriend who cheated on you.

There’s really no sense comparing my situation to Leesa and Rave’s, because Rave isn’t human. Human guys still suck. Maybe if I meet a volkaane, I’ll give him a chance. Yeah, that’s the ticket. I think I’ll wait for that.

Marissa comes waltzing in through the door, so I close my book and sit up. She’s been out with Gary tonight, and judging by the smile on her face and the bounce in her step, she had a good time. This is their fourth or fifth date since the frat party, and she’s told me she’s starting to really like him.

“Hey, Roomie,” she says. She notices the book on my bed. “I bet you’re loving that, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s really good,” I reply.

“I knew you would. Leesa kind of reminds me of you,” Marissa says. “Really shy, but totally hot.”

I blush and laugh at the same time. See, I knew she’d say something like that.

“I think she’s way hotter,” I say. “But thanks anyway. How was your date?”

“Really fun. We went to the arcade. Played a couple of dance games—Gary’s pretty good for a guy, but I kicked his butt.” She does a couple of fancy dance moves in the center of the room to emphasize her point. “He got me back in the shoot-em ups, though. Then we went for some hot chocolate, and then back to his place to make out.”

“Ewww, too much information!” I say, scrunching up my face in mock disgust. “Please, spare me the details.”

Marissa laughs. “You sure? They’re pretty hot.”

I grin. “Yeah, believe me, I’m sure.” I pick up
Breathless
. “I’m getting all the romance I can handle right here, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Marissa replies. She turns and hangs her jacket in the closet. “Hey, I almost forgot,” she says, turning back to me. “James gave us some tickets for open mic night at The Joint. Wanna come with us?”

I look at her like she’s crazy. Sure, James seems like a nice guy and he’s friends with Gary and all, but she knows I’m not interested in dating anyone. Not even close. Maybe she’s trying to ease me back into the game.

But open mic night? What if Chris shows up? I really don’t want to see the creep, let alone watch him play the piano.

“No, thanks,” I say. “I’m really not ready for any dating, even if it’s just a double date.”

It’s her turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “What double date? James gave us three passes. It’d be just you, me and Gary.” She winks at me. “And we’re not ready for a threesome yet, so it’s definitely not a date. It’ll just be a fun night out.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “You-know-who could show up. He likes open mic.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” Marissa says. She thinks for a moment. “Tell you what, if he shows up, we’ll all leave. The tickets are free, so it’s not like we’d be losing anything if we have to split.”

I’m still not sure. It would probably be fun, I know. But I’m still a little worried about running into Chris. But I can’t let him dictate my life.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m in. On one condition.”

“Great,” Marissa says. “What’s the condition?”

I smile. “That you and Gary save all the mushy stuff until you’re alone. I don’t want to have to watch you two horn dogs going at each other.”

Marissa laughs. “Fine by me,” she says. “But it might be tough for Gary. I’m not sure he can keep his hands off me that long.”

I laugh. “Tell him to try hard.”

I’m getting ready for open mic night. Or trying to get ready, at least. I’m not having much luck deciding what to wear. I don’t want to give anyone the idea I’m looking to hook up, but since I’m going with Gary and Marissa, I can’t go as a total slob, either. Marissa suggested my yoga pants and boots with a sweater or something, but that’s way too much of a “look at me” outfit. I’ve settled on a pair of semi-dressy jeans—one of my looser pairs—but haven’t figured out my top yet. All my T-shirts seem too casual.

I look over at Marissa. She’s having no trouble at all, but that’s because it’s a date with her boyfriend. So of course she wants to look hot. She’s already dressed and is putting on her makeup. She’s wearing a pair of tight jeans and black leather boots with three inch heels. The jeans are stylishly faded across the front of her thighs. Her dark blue pullover shirt is cut so that it’s casual and sexy at same time. It’s loose off one shoulder at the top and slightly baggy at the bottom, but cut more tightly around her chest. And just to make sure no one misses her curves, three narrow light blue stripes stretch horizontally across her chest. I have to admit, she certainly does have a sexy little figure. And she knows how to work it, too.

I go back to rummaging through my closet, finally settling on a collarless burnt orange shirt with a two button neck. I pull it on over my head and check myself out in the mirror. Casual enough, I think, but dressier than a T-shirt. So far, so good. Now, what to do with my hair?

It’s down right now, but no way am I going to leave it that way. Guys like long hair way too much. I gather it in my hand and hold it atop my head like it’s in a bun, but with my collarless shirt, that exposes way too much neck. Guys like necks, too. I think they must have vampire blood in them. So no bun, either.

I twist my hair into a loose braid and fasten it at the bottom with a plain rubber band. Much better—sloppy but contained. I flip the braid over the front of my left shoulder. Perfect!

Turning from the mirror, I see Marissa watching me. She has a big grin on her face.

“Trying not to look too hot, huh?” she says.

I smile sheepishly. This whole thing is ironic, because I’ve never thought I was all that cute, but here I am worrying about it, in an ass-backwards way. See what you’ve done to me, Chris?

“Most of us work hard trying to look good,” Marissa says, shaking her head. “You work hard not to. Must be a nice problem to have.” She’s still smiling, so I know she’s only teasing.

“I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea,” I say.

“Maybe you should hang an ‘off limits’ sign around your neck,” Marissa suggests.

I stroke my chin with my fingers, like I’m considering the idea. “That’s a great idea,” I say after a moment. “Maybe I can get a fake engagement ring somewhere, too. To keep away any guys who can’t read.”

“Good thinking,” Marissa agrees. “And just to be sure, we can hang some barbed wire around our table.”

We’re both laughing now.

Gary steps in through the open door. “What’s got you two laughing so hard?” he asks.

Marissa crosses to him and gives him a quick peck on the mouth.

“We’re figuring out ways to keep guys away from Heather,” she says.

“So far, we’ve come up with an engagement ring, an off limits sign and barbed wire,” I say. “But I’m open to suggestions.”

“Heck,” Gary says, grinning. “Just hire some old guy with a shotgun to sit next to you. Trust me, nothing keeps guys away better than an angry father with a double barrel.”

We all laugh.

“You got some experience with that, frat boy?” Marissa asks teasingly.

“I’ll never tell,” Gary replies.

Marissa snuggles against him and rubs her hand seductively over his stomach. “You sure about that?” she asks. “I bet I can get it out of you.” She rubs him again, a little bit lower this time.

“Hey! None of that,” I say. “Remember our agreement.”

Marissa laughs and steps away from him. Gary looks from Marissa to me and then back to Marissa.

“What agreement?” he asks.

“Heather said she would only go to open mic if I promised that you and I would save any mushy stuff for later,” Marissa explains. She looks at me and smiles. “But you didn’t say anything about sex stuff.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re such a perv.”

“I’m not a perv,” Marissa says. “I just have healthy appetites.”

Gary laughs. “She just can’t keep her hands off me, that’s all.”

“That’s what she said about you,” I say, smiling now. “But either way, no more of that stuff till you guys are alone… got it?”

“Yes, Mother,” Marissa says. “I promise we’ll behave ourselves.”

“So, you girls ready to go?” Gary asks. “You both look great, by the way.” He immediately corrects himself. “I mean, you look great, Marissa. Totally hot.” He smiles at me. “Heather, you look just okay.”

“Nice save, Gary,” I say. “That’s exactly the look I was going for—just okay.” I grab my coat from the closet. “So I guess I’m ready.”

Marissa gets her coat and the three of us head out the door to the elevator.

There’s a short line in front of The Joint, so even though we’ve got passes, we have to wait outside a few moments while the less lucky kids pay the small cover charge. Standing there, I can feel my stomach beginning to get a little nervous. I haven’t been here since that night with Chris, and there’s always a chance he could be inside. I hate to admit it, but a small part of me still wants to see him. But a much bigger piece of me hopes I never have to look at his cheating face again. I’m glad Marissa promised we’d all leave if he’s here. I wouldn’t really make her and Gary leave—that wouldn’t really be fair—but her promise gives me the freedom to scoot if I need to.

When we get to the front of the line, I see a familiar face seated on a stool beside the door, collecting the cover charges and passes.

It’s James, from the frat party. Suddenly the pieces all fit. No wonder he knew about me and Chris and the piano playing—he’d been working that night. And now I know why Marissa and Gary were so anxious for me to join them tonight, and why James had free passes. Mixed metaphors aside, I can smell a fix-up when I see one. I glance at Marissa, intent on giving her the evil eye, but she’s smiling at me all sweet and innocent like. All I can manage is to shake my head in resignation. Well played, roomie.

I have to admit, James does look good in his pale blue long-sleeve shirt. I think it’s the rolled up sleeves that do it, making him look smart and casual, rather than stuffy. His forearms are pretty muscular, and I find myself wishing I could see a little more of his arms. 

“There must be some mistake here,” James says playfully. “What are two such lovely ladies doing with this loser?”

Gary grins and holds his fist out for a fist bump. “Jealousy does not become you, my friend,” he says.

“Thanks for the passes, James,” Marissa says.

“No problem,” James replies.

He turns to me and smiles. “Hi, Heather. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too,” is about all I can manage to say.

“I hope tonight is more fun for you than our frat party was,” James continues.

“It really wasn’t so bad,” I say. I notice that somehow my hand has made it to my hair and is playing with the end of my braid, so I force my hand back to my side. “I’m sure tonight will be fun, though.”

Gary and James exchange another fist bump and then we step through the doorway.

Inside, the place is about half full. There’s one group of seven or eight very loud guys near the front. A couple of them are really big—jocks from the football team, most likely. Thankfully, the hostess guides us to a table on the other side of the room, about half way back. If the behavior of the guys up front is any indication of how they’ll behave during the performances, I feel sorry for anyone who gets up on stage and is not
really
good. I can’t even play for my friends—how someone will manage to perform with those guys right in front of them is beyond me. We’re sitting far enough away that their noise is merely annoying, but not overly bothersome. Not yet, anyhow. I hope they’ll quiet down a bit during the show, though. Either that, or I hope they have good bouncers here. I wonder if James is a bouncer. He’s tall and pretty well built, but he doesn’t really look like the bouncer type.

The hostess gives us each a menu and skitters away to seat the next party. On the way to our table, I took a quick scan of the place looking for Chris, but now that we’re sitting, I do a more careful check. My heart momentarily skips a beat when I spot a brown beret across the room, but the guy is blond and way too short to be Chris. There’s no sign of him, and I feel myself relax a bit. I look over at Marissa and see that she’s watching me.

“So far, so good, huh?” she says. “No sign of he-who-shall-not-be named?”

Marissa has taken to using the Harry Potter Voldemort reference when referring to Chris. Hearing his name doesn’t really upset me anymore, but I haven’t disabused her of the notion. Who knows, it might come in handy one of these days if I need to get out of doing something.

I shake my head. “Nope. He’s not here. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“Great,” Marissa says. “So it’s safe to order some food? I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Gary says.

I pick up my menu and say, “Well, what are you waiting for then?”

I give the menu only a cursory glance. I don’t feel like a hamburger, and the chicken sandwich was pretty tasty last time, so my choice is easy. Marissa and Gary put their menus down a few moments after I do, and less than a minute later, a waiter arrives at our table.

“What can I get you guys?” he asks.

I order my chicken sandwich and a diet cola, while Gary and Marissa both opt for BuzzBurgers. Marissa asks for a lemonade and Gary orders a soda. We also order a jumbo basket of fries we’ll all share.

“Coming right up,” the waiter says as he finishes scribbling the order on his pad.

“You two probably think you’re so smart,” I say after he spins away from the table and heads toward the kitchen.

Marissa gives me that innocent look again. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Heather,” she says, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say. I shake my head. “I should have known when you said you had three passes and not four. Was James behind all this?”

Gary and Marissa exchange a glance.

“Actually, he did give me four passes,” Gary says.

“I knew you wouldn’t go with anyone,” Marissa adds, “so I figured it’d be easier if I just told you we only had three tickets. That way you wouldn’t worry about us setting you up with someone.”

For a moment, I’m worried that’s exactly what they’ve done, and that some friend of Gary’s is going to appear with the fourth pass and join us at our table. My concern must show on my face, because Marissa quickly reassures me.

“Don’t worry, Heather,” she says. “We didn’t give the extra pass to anybody. It’s just the three of us.”

I’m glad to hear that. And I’m also glad to hear that James wasn’t behind this whole thing. But I still think there’s more to it than Marissa is admitting.

“So my name never came up when James gave you the tickets?” I ask Gary.

Gary looks like he doesn’t really want to be part of this conversation. He glances at Marissa. “Well, he might have mentioned something about bringing Marissa and her friend,” he admits.

I can tell there’s more. “And?” I ask.

Gary shrugs. “James said he thought you could use some fun, that’s all. So he suggested we all come to open mic night.”

I look at Marissa. “And you knew James worked here, of course.”

“Well, yeah,” she replies. “But that’s just it, Heather—he’s working. So it’s not like it’s a date or anything.”

I’m not ready to give up yet. “And there’s no plan for the four of us to get together after the show?”

Marissa does a crossing her heart gesture with her fingers. “No, I promise,” she says. “Nothing at all.”

I look at Gary for confirmation.

“No plans,” he says. “James helps with the cleanup after they close. We’ll be long gone before he’s anywhere near done.”

“Okay,” I say, satisfied finally. “You guys are off the hook…for now, anyhow.”

I’m glad to hear there are no ulterior motives behind our night out, but I’m surprised to find myself a little disappointed that this wasn’t more of a setup. I’m certainly not going to tell them that, though. Especially after the hard time I’ve been giving them—and since I don’t quite understand it myself.

The arrival of our food keeps me from having to think about it any further.