Jessie hopped onto my couch, squatting back onto her heels. “I know, right? I’m so jealous. We’re stuck in those tiny little dorms, and you’re living like royalty over here.”
I plopped beside Jessie and tucked one leg underneath me. “Hey, this tiny little royalty comes at a pretty ridiculous price.” I lifted my eyebrow. “Which reminds me, it’s time I find a job, or I’ll be sleeping at the foot of your bed soon.” I nudged her with my shoulder.
“What do you have in mind?” Sandra called out from the kitchen. She was bent over, watching for the flame to spring to life beneath a pot of water and my mouth watered thinking about the spaghetti dish she’d promised.
I shrugged. “I think I’ll make the most money bartending. I can probably get away with only working three nights a week if I can snag a Friday or Saturday.”
I could see the light bulb go off in Jessie’s head. “My friend Rick owns The Backdoor. He’ll hire you in a heartbeat. With your body and that face, you’ll make a killing! I’ll call him when I get back to my room later.”
“You think?”
She nodded. “I so think.”
“’Kay. Thanks, chick.” I gave her a squeeze.
“No problem. Now let me at your notes.”
I pulled out my book as divine scents wafted toward me from the kitchen. “San, you can come over any time. My kitchen’s always open.”
She tossed a spatula and caught it behind her back like Tom Cruise, then started a little jig. We all giggled in unison, and I sighed in contentment, somehow feeling more comfortable here in this chaotic city than I had in years back home.
An hour later, Jessie was all caught up, and I was wiping my plate clean with a piece of Italian bread. “My god, Sandra, that was amazing. If you’re not supposed to be a chef, I don’t know who is.” A little burp escaped my lips. “Scuze me! See? Compliments to the chef.” We all laughed again.
“Thanks.” She beamed.
The girls helped me tidy up and then they were gone, leaving me alone . . . again.
I made a cup of hazelnut coffee in my nifty little Keurig, then grabbed a pen and my journal. I brushed my fingertips along the fraying edges of the tattered, leather bound book. Loose poems and scribblings from the last few years or so were clasped behind a heart-shaped snap closure. I headed out to the balcony, and my pen began to flow without thought as it had so many times before.
Icy blue waters wash across a blackened sky
A dark ceiling outlines creamy white sand
The shore is broad and powerful, casting off perfection
Twinkling white stars smiling down to where I stand
My pen stopped mid-stroke, and I realized the double entendre staring back at me. I’d just unknowingly described Blake. Great, he’d gotten to my subconscious now, too. I closed my book and ran a clammy hand over the top of my most prized possession, then dropped it on the coffee table with a loud thump. He should be the furthest thing from my mind.
Running a bubble bath, I relished in the sweet sounds of Sarah McLachlan pouring from my iPod. I tied my hair in a messy bun of curls, then stepped into the warm water. Laying back, I covered my eyes with a cool washcloth and buried the day.
“In the arms of the angel . . .”
Really, Sarah? It had to be that song?
“Ugh!” I threw the cloth off my eyes and rubbed my throbbing temples. Looked like this wouldn’t be the relaxing time I’d envisioned after all.
Back in my room, I slipped into my favorite cotton shorts and a white tank, then slid under the covers and began to pray, as I did every night, for a peaceful night’s rest.
After a few minutes, my eyes drifted shut.
I’m holding giant bags as I mindlessly glide through the halls of Columbia. My arms are tired, weak, and I’m straining under the weight. Looking into each passing classroom, I’m searching for something, but when I don’t see it, I continue walking forward.
He steps out of a room two doors away, and my heart lurches in my chest. My eyes lose their emptiness, and a light shines in them as a smile creeps up my lips. Eager to reach him, I hurry my step, drop all of my baggage at his feet, and stare up into the blue depths of his eyes.
He kicks the bags aside as if they’re nothing and picks me up so we’re nose to nose. An overwhelming feeling of completeness washes over me, and I can tell by the gleam in his eye he feels it, too. Our eyes remain open as we begin to kiss through smiling lips. I’m lost in the feeling, savoring each flick of his tongue when brown starts to tinge the sapphire perfection.
I think I’m seeing things and blink my eyes, only to see even more brown when they reopen. I try to pull away, but the arms that were just lovingly holding me close now feel like a vise imprisoning me.
It’s hard to breathe. My walls are constricting.
A dirt-colored hue has now completely covered the sapphire crystals, and when I pull back to break the kiss, I’m staring at someone completely different. Someone terrifying.