Not Looking For Love: Episode 1 (6 page)

"Strange that she would still insist that the high born are better than the poor then," I say.

"Do you think so?" Mom asks, her breathing under control again for the moment. "I'd say it was something that helped her get over her own disappointment in love."

"Love is overrated," I blurt out. I certainly don't want love. Look where it gets you. Having to say goodbye, nothing you can do, forced to live with excruciating bereavement. And it always ends the same. Always in sorrow and pain.

"Love is all right," Mom says. "It makes everything else bearable."

I don't answer; don't tell her she's wrong. She probably knows it anyway.

"I think I'll take a little nap before dinner," she says and lies down. I know she won't get up again today.

I lie down next to her, and close my eyes too. A peal of thunder echoes in the distance a few minutes later and I open my eyes, but the sky outside is still sunny and light blue.
 

I prop myself up on one elbow and kiss my mom's cheek. When she's asleep like this, it's easier to pretend she's just a little ill, and that she'll get well any day now. I push a short, dry strand of her once soft, dark brown hair under her scarf and slide out of bed, letting her rest.

Surprisingly, my dad is working late tonight, and I don't much like the idea of eating dinner alone. The storm is coming closer. I want to get in my car and drive down to the beach, let the wind beat against me, and feel the first fat raindrops on my skin. But I just know Scott will be there. And then what? I won't be able to fight the pull, and I've humiliated myself enough for a whole lifetime in front of him. I should stay away from him forever. I should and I will.

Kate's ringtone interrupts my meanderings.
 

"So, tell me!" she orders when I answer.

"What?" I stare out the living room window. The sky outside is already covered by inky, thick blotches of clouds. The hedge hisses in the wind.
 

"Don't what me. I saw you with the gardener," Kate says.

I open the window and step out onto the patio and into the way of the wind.

"Hello, hello, you still there?" Kate asks. The wind must be making her think the connection is bad.
 

I block the speaker with my palm. "Yeah."

"So?"

I don't want to tell her, don't want to remember it. But the humiliation will suffocate me if I don't tell someone.

"He blew me off," I stammer.

"No!" she says with exactly the perfect tone of outrage. I feel marginally better.
 

"He told me he's not interested," I elaborate. Might as well put it all out there.

"Weird. That's not what it looked like to me," Kate muses. How much did she see? It doesn't matter. I would have told her everything anyway, eventually.

"I know. He's all checking me out one minute and blowing me off the next. I'm not even going to bother anymore," I say and sit in one of the deck chairs. "Maybe it's something else. Maybe he has like a wife and kids somewhere and that's why."
 

"I doubt it," Kate says. "I never saw a ring on him. Besides why should that matter? You just want a good time, right?"

"I guess, but like I said, he's not interested. I'm done throwing myself at him."

"Nonsense, you need a distraction!" Kate says. My heart clenches, cramps up. Kate can be so flippant about my mom sometimes. I don't blame her though, she doesn't know what it's like to watch your mom die, and I hope she never finds out. "I think you just need to take it a little more slowly. Play hard to get. Guys like that sort of thing. The next time you see him, you should pretend you don't even know him. He'll be following you around like puppy after that, you'll see."

I murmur agreement. I don't want to talk anymore. All I want to do is climb under the covers and think about nothing.

"I think my mom's calling me," I say, "I'll talk to you later."

She says 'Bye' like she's not done talking and doesn't quite believe me, but I'm already pressing End Call because I am.

CHAPTER SIX

I spend most of Saturday in bed, visiting my mom for only an hour or so. Saturdays and Sundays are Dad's days with her. It's an unspoken rule that I've made up, and I'm not even sure he knows about it. But the hurt of losing the one you love, the one you married and built your life around, coils around them when they're together, lacing every word they speak to each other, and it's unbearable for me to watch.

He hasn't told her that I'm not going back to school this semester. I doubt he will, but I think she knows anyway. It doesn't matter. Whether I miss some school or not is nothing compared to the dark abyss that is my future.

I wake up feeling marginally better on Sunday morning; even manage to have a real breakfast and even lunch with mom and dad up in her room. She's smiling today, and there's a flush in her cheeks. It's days like this that make me sure the doctors were wrong, giving me hope that she has more time.

"So, what are your plans for today?" mom asks me after we finish eating.

I shrug. "I might do some shopping. I need some new clothes for fall."

We used to go shopping together. A watery sadness passes over her eyes, and I know she must be thinking the same thing. She smiles bravely, her bottom lip shaking. "Get something nice."

"Don't spend too much," my dad warns me like he always does.

"I'll try," I say, my voice too shrill. I bolt from the room, not wanting to cry in front of them. Today is dad's day, and I won't spoil it.

I call Kate to join me, but her phone goes straight to voicemail, so I'm on my own.
 

The mall is bustling, the back-to-school shoppers joined by all the rest who decided to spend this rainy Sunday shopping. After almost half an hour of circling, I finally manage to get a parking spot on the ground level near one of the entrances. Luckily, it's only drizzling, so I'm not completely soaked before I enter the building.
 

I'm stuffing my car keys into my purse, making sure I have my wallet in this bag, when I bump into someone, hard.

"Hey..." I start, ready to tell whoever it is off.

The rest of my sentence gets lost in his, "Pardon..."

And then I'm looking at his eyes, which are a dark brown in this light, golden really, and kind of like my own. Scott's already walking away, pointing at me like I should back the hell away. Then he turns and disappears in the crowd, and I finally exhale. Great, now he probably thinks I followed him here or something. I let it go. I've already decided to forget all about it, and pretend none of it even happened.
 

I spend the next hour or so browsing, making sure Scott's not anywhere each time I exit one store and enter another. I see nothing I like though, and the things I kind of like, I'd need someone's advice on. Only I'm alone.

A couple of hours later, I end up at the insanely expensive lingerie store next to the food court. It's not like I have anyone to see me in my underwear, but Scott's rejection still rankles somewhere way in the back of my mind.
 

I pick up a sheer black cami, with white silk thread worked in a braided pattern along the edge of the balconette bra and down the sides, ending in neat little bows. It's the perfect "good girl goes bad" look, and I could get it just for me. I love how whimsically the strands are woven together. My feet are aching, and the fitting rooms are likely packed, so I hold the cami against my chest and check my reflection in the shop window, just to see how it might look. It's my size, and I can always just exchange it later anyway.
 

I nearly drop it when I see him. Scott's eating a sandwich at a table right across from the shop window. He's got his black ball cap pulled low over his eyes, shrouding them in shadow. But his look pierces me anyway. It's like part hunger, part hatred, part desire and it turns my stomach to knots, sending tingles all over.

"You should totally get that." Brandon's whiny voice breaks the spell. My hand is shaking as I try to hang it back. I miss the hanger, dropping the cami on the ground. Where the fuck did he come from of all people?

"Shut up, Brandon," I manage, my voice low and unsteady.

"No, why are you putting it away?" Brandon says and picks up the cami. "I'd totally want to take this off you."

He holds it up against my chest, but I smack his hand away. "Give it up, Brandon."

If he says another thing to me, I will scream at him to leave me the fuck alone already. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Scott is gone. He just left his tray and disappeared. Or maybe he was never there in the first place, and I am really going insane.

"Let me get this for you," Brandon insists, licking his lips. He sounds like he's on something. "It would make me so happy just to know you own it."

Brandon has the same piercing green eyes as Kate, cat's eyes. The thought of him imagining me in my underwear makes me slightly nauseous.

"I'd seriously rather you didn't," I manage, struggling to keep my cool.

"Oh, come on, Gail, when are you gonna say yes?" Brandon insists. "You're driving me crazy."

My palms ache, I'm squeezing them into fists so hard. And I'm shaking like a twig. I know I am. But he's just smiling at me like all this is funny.
 

He takes a step closer, reaching out to put his arm around my shoulders, and I lose it. I smack his hand away. "Stop it! Just stop it!"

Tears burn in my throat. I shouldn't be out here. I should be at home, spending time with my mom.
 

Brandon laughs and reaches for me again. "Calm down, Gail. People are watching. I'm just playing."
 

I don't have the energy to fight him anymore, and if I say anything, I'll cry or scream, or both.
 

I'm staring at the floor, Brandon's arm heavy around my shoulders.
 

Someone clears his throat next to us. All I see is his shoes, black chucks that he probably should trade in for a new pair soon. "It's none of my business, but I don't think she wants you touching her," Scott says. There's an edge in his voice like it's not a suggestion, like he's telling Brandon to let me go. Even his voice is so much manlier than Brandon's whiny drone.

Brandon grips my shoulder. "You're right. It's none of your business."

"Maybe you should let her go." Again not a suggestion.

I push Brandon away and stand between them. I don't want Scott to lose his job over this, though Brandon hasn't recognized him yet, I don't think. I'm not planning it, it just happens, but I bury my face in Scott's shirt and start sobbing. He's doing it again, making the world disappear until it's just us, and I can't believe I'm messing it all up. Again.

"What the fuck, Gail?" Brandon breathes behind me. He sounds pissed, but I don't care.

"You should probably leave." Scott's voice rumbles in his chest. Brandon huffs and storms off.

I will myself to stop crying and step away from Scott. He lets me go, and picks up his shopping bags. "We should probably go too. People are staring."

"Yeah," I hiccup and rush out of the store, not looking at anyone.

I wipe away my tears outside, pressing hard to make sure I get all the mascara that must have run. Scott rummages in the pocket of his baggy jeans and hands me a crumpled, clean napkin. I nod thanks and take it. For all my resolve never to speak to him again, I can't help imagining him tearing that cami off me. But it's a fleeting thought. Though I do wish I was still leaning against his chest.

"What, you're not gonna ask me if I'm alright?" I say and chuckle, though it's more of a hiccup really. It should be harder for me to talk to him after all the times I made a total ass of myself in front of him but it's not.
 

"I thought about it, but it's probably safer if I don't," he says and smiles. His eyes are still in shadow, but they're soft now, not piercing me. I wish they would.

"I'm fine, just so you know," I venture.
 

"Whatever you say, Gail." He's still smiling, so I can't get mad, not really.

The silence stretches. He's clutching his bags tightly, the muscles in his forearm flexed.
 

"So..." he finally says, because we're just standing there.

"So," I echo. I like standing there with him. It's like we're alone.

He reaches into his back pocket. "So, I have these two movie tickets," he says and shows them to me. "Michael... my brother, was supposed to meet me but he stood me up—"

"That's too bad," I interject, because I don't know how to keep my mouth shut.

"So, you wanna come with me?"

Dating's not what I had in mind for Scott. I don't want love.

"What movie is it?" I ask anyway.

He names some racing thing I've already seen, adding, "I've really been looking forward to seeing it."

"It's been playing since June." I snort. I know because I saw it while I should have been studying for my finals. "Or is this the second time you're going to see it?"

The shadow in his eyes intensifies, darkens to hate, but it's not directed at me this time. He blows off my question. "So do you? It started five minutes ago."

"Sure," I say.
 

The theater is dark by the time we get there, and I use my phone to light the way. I lead us into the row of seats on which the armrests can be lifted up. It's a good choice, since he totally takes up more than just his seat. Not that I mind, at least this way I have no choice but to rest my leg against his.
 

The movie's not as engrossing the second time around, and I keep checking my phone to see how much longer it will be. The rest of the time, I'm watching Scott from the corner of my eye. He's so into it, I have to smile, wishing that intensity was directed at me. And hour and a half in, I'm struggling to hide my yawns. I wiggle closer to him, but apart from a slight tensing of his leg, he doesn't seem to notice. I want to do more, want to rest my head on his shoulder, have him put his arm around me, but that would be too much of a date. And that's not what I want.