You free Monday night? Frat house always throws a huge party after the first day of classes.
“What are you reading over there?” Roxy asks as she is steaming some milk for a customer’s drink.
Looking up at her, I say, “I’m reading a text from Jack. He wants me to go to some party, and I’m not sure how to respond.” I look back down at his text and stare.
After Roxy finishes up with her customer, she walks over to me. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know how to respond’? What’s going on?”
I lift my arms off the counter and step away to face her. Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I say, “I need to distance myself from him. I think he wants more than I do. I mean, I don’t want anything, so . . .”
“Just tell him you can’t go. Or go, and tell him later that you just don’t have time for a relationship right now,” she says.
I pick up my phone to respond.
What time?
I walk over to pour myself a cup of coffee when I hear my phone chime.
“That was fast,” I hear Roxy say.
“No kidding.” Walking back to my phone, I set down my mug, and tap on his message.
Pick you up around 10?
Okay, I’ll see you then.
Miss you.
“Shit,” I mumble quietly and set the phone down, wanting to pretend I didn’t see that last text.
“What are you ‘shitting’ about?”
I take a sip of my coffee and then toss Roxy my phone. Sitting on my stool, I watch her closely as she reads through the texts. I notice her eyes get big, and I know she finally reached the text that is starting to make me panic slightly.
“Okay, it’s not that—”
“You know I don’t do well with this stuff. I never make it to date number two and now this guy says he misses me.” I feel my heartbeat start to quicken and, yes, that is definitely panic I am feeling. I don’t deal with intimate relationships well at all. In fact, I’m pretty closed off emotionally with guys. I’ve never had any closeness with my parents, then the one guy I thought at least liked me in high school turned out to be just another asshole. I feel like I’m emotionally moronic.
I look up to see that Roxy is laughing at me. “It’s not funny!”
“It actually is a little bit,” she says. “Relax, don’t respond. He probably won’t even notice. Guys are stupid anyway.”
I hope she’s right. I hope he isn’t sitting there waiting for me to text him back to say that I miss him too. I don’t like opening myself up like that.
?????
The next day, Kimber and I get ready for the cookout. I’m in the kitchen preparing the burgers for the grill, and Kimber is chopping up veggies for a salad. Jase has never bothered to introduce us to any guys in the past, so I know he must really like Mark. I don’t know much about him aside from the fact that he plays guitar for a local band.
“Hey, Kim, has Jase ever talked to you about Mark before?” I ask as I pound out another hamburger patty.
“Not much. He was pretty pissed off at himself when they broke up, so I figured he had really cared for him but didn’t realize it until they split.” Kimber slides the salad in the fridge then opens a bag of chips to pour in a bowl.
“Hmm . . .”
“What?” She eyes me as she pops a chip in her mouth.
I walk to the sink to wash my hands. “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just curious.”
“We’re here,” Jase calls out.
I walk into the living room and give him a hug.
“Mark, this is Candace,” Jase says as I pull away.
I turn to Mark, “Hey! It’s great to meet you. Come on in. We’re in the kitchen getting the food ready,” I say as I start walking towards the kitchen.
“Hey, Jase,” Kimber says with a mouth full of chips.
Jase looks at Mark then back at Kimber. “And this crazy girl is Kimber.”
“Nice you meet you guys,” Mark says with a grin.
Mark is good looking with an athletic build similar to Jase’s. He has dark brown hair and striking green eyes.
“Will one of you start the grill?” Kimber asks the guys.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Mark says, and Kimber leads him out back.
Jase and I grab the food and head out behind them. We are lucky to have a large backyard with a nice patio that is covered with a pretty white pergola. We have a table that seats six and off to the side, several chairs that circle around a fire pit. There is a small bar area with a built in grill that we only used when there were guys over to start it up.
Most students our age live in smaller houses or apartments, but Kimber’s parents own this house. They bought it when they were having the house built that they live in now.
“This is a nice place you have,” Mark says.
Kimber flops down in a chair. “I suppose,” she says with a sigh.
I roll my eyes at her and look at Mark, “Please, just ignore her dramatics.”
Kimber looks at me and laughs.
“Hey Jase, will you run inside and grab the case of beer that’s in the fridge and bring it out? There’s a cooler next to the door that already has ice in it,” I say.