Текст книги "Forgive Us Our Trespasses"
Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Vivian
Since Saturday morning, I have tried to avoid our new neighbors, but I swear Brooks is stalking me. I go to the vending machines in the front lobby, he’s there. I go to the basement laundry to wash my favorite jeans for dancing, and he’s there. I’m now sitting in my first class of the semester, English Composition, and guess who walks through the door? Yup, Brooks.
I know guys like him; Amanda is constantly dating boys who treat girls the way I’m sure he does. Who am I kidding? Amanda is Brooks’ female equivalent. They use people to get what they want, and then leave them heartbroken and clueless when their usefulness has expired. Brooks is no mystery; his goal is to sleep with anything and everything. He sees me as a number, a notch on his bedpost, and when he’s completed his challenge, he would throw me away like I was nothing. Well, he has targeted the wrong girl. No matter how unbelievably gorgeous he is. I can use images of him to take care of myself after Jen takes me to get my new special purple friend. I don’t need to experience the real thing, not if it means risking myself in the process.
Waves of students file into the classroom and I slouch down in my seat, looking down at my notebook, hoping that Brooks won’t see me and will walk right by. No such luck. He slides into the seat across the row and leans across the aisle to get my attention. I peer at him from the corner of my eye, hoping that maybe if I pay him no attention he’ll go away.
“Hey, Red,” he says, giving me his best smoldering grin.
I try to remain unaffected, but I am a girl after all. This is a guy whose looks demand attention. He walks into a room and everyone, girls and guys alike, takes notice. I never thought I would consider a man as beautiful, but Brooks truly is. His jet-black hair is just messy enough that it makes me want to run my fingers through it. His cerulean blue eyes are like never-ending pools that are perpetually inviting me to dive into them. Once I let my eyes roam though, it’s easy to notice the amazing physique that he has under his dark jeans and blue button-up shirt that somehow enhances the color of his eyes. It takes every bit of willpower not to melt like every other girl that passes his desk. The difference is those girls think he might fall in love with them and they would live happily ever after. I imagine that this semester many will find out the hard way that he has no interest in such emotional attachments. I know what I am to him, and I respectfully decline the opportunity, no matter how cute he is.
“Hello, Brooks, it’s nice to see you again,” I say pleasantly. I figure maybe if I try to be his friend, it will stop his pursuits, and this crush I have will slowly fade. When he moves his chair closer to mine, I realize that may not be the best plan of defense.
“You know, I’m not really great at writing papers; I could always use a study partner,” he says, whispering the last part of the sentence. His hushed voice causes my body to shake from the inside out until I feel every inch of my skin vibrate. I never react to guys this way; in fact, I typically try to stay clear of them as much as possible, and guys like Brooks, I need to avoid like the plague.
“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine,” I tell him, moving my desk away from his. Overhearing our conversation, the brunette behind him interrupts.
“Well if she won’t help, I would be more than happy to help in any way that I can,” she purrs, leaning forward to touch his shoulder. Oh, yeah, I’m sure she would give him a hand–more like she’d offer some vagina to go with that Shakespeare. Her well-endowed chest pouring out of her tiny shirt and the overdone make-up she has plastered all over her face provides a pretty clear picture of the kind of help she would like to provide.
Brooks turns around to address her, and when I see him smile, I have to hold myself back from jumping across the aisle and stabbing her with my pencil. This pang of jealousy is something new, and it’s not a good color on me. Besides, I only have a mechanical pencil; it wouldn’t leave enough of a mark. I need to remember to start bringing good ole number twos to class.
Before he can answer, the professor, Dr. Vauldin, walks in and immediately begins passing out the course syllabus and discussing class expectations. For an entire fifty minutes I keep my eyes forward, desperately trying to forget about whatever flirting extravaganza may or may not be going on behind me. I know the best thing for me will be to see Brooks with someone else, that it will help me get over whatever this is, but holy shit, the idea of it makes me angry.
The instant Dr. Vauldin ends his long-winded, mind-numbingly boring tirade on the importance of correct grammar in all compositions; I spring out of my seat in an attempt to ditch Brooks and his little tag-along. Walking through the doors and hitting the fresh air, I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s like his presence sucks all of the air out of the room, and I’m left to survive on whatever he leaves behind. I need to get away from him.
I don’t make it far down the hallway before he catches me, landing his arm across my shoulders. “Wait up, Red; you didn’t need to run off. I can walk you to your next class; I have an hour before my next one starts.” It makes my stomach flip-flop, and my defense mechanisms kick in to high gear. I shoot him a look of disdain and he removes his arm, immediately placing his hands at his sides. I feel the loss as soon as he takes it away, and I have to remind myself that it’s better to not get involved with someone like him.
“Thanks, but I have a break, too. I was going to go back to my dorm and see if Campbell has finally showed up.” I see Will and Jen just outside the exit of the lecture building, so I move quickly to try to get to them; they can serve as my Brooks buffer. Even though he took his hand away, he’s still walking very closely.
Just before we reach the exit, another class lets out and a crowd of people rush into the hallway, forcing us to stop. “So, Vauldin’s class is going to be rough to get through,” I mutter, trying to make friendly small talk; running from him isn’t exactly working.
“Seriously, if you weren’t in there, I would strongly consider dropping the class.” The Brooks charm is back in full force. I stare at him, considering my options. Do I go for it and go on a date with him? Maybe he’s not as bad as I’ve made him out to be. Do I put him in his place so that he’ll leave me alone for good? Or do I avoid the situation by dropping the class myself, maybe even transferring dorms? Because that is totally sane and logical, and I’m sure my mom would understand. Luckily, I don’t have to make the choice.
“Brooks! I was hoping to run into you today,” exclaims a decent-looking blonde with legs for days. She snakes her arms around Brooks’ waist, and rests her head on his shoulder like she’s staking her claim of him. She looks at me and I see the competition in her eyes; she’s threatened by me and wants me to know that she is going to win. I brace myself for what’s going to come next, because in girl-world, this type of fight usually isn’t pretty. Brooks, on the other hand, looks embarrassed and unsure of how to proceed. Yup, that karma is a bitch, isn’t it, buddy.
“Sondra, what a surprise,” he mutters with a half-smile. It looks like he’s starting to sweat a bit, and I almost want to laugh. Here I thought maybe I could bend my rules and see past his arrogance, but thankfully, fate stepped in just in time to show me his true Douche McGee status. I almost feel sorry for him; the scenario is not ideal: previous weekend make-out buddy shows up while in progress of hitting on new make-out buddy target.
“Saturday was wonderful; we are going to have to do it again sometime. I had no idea guys could be so dexterous with their fingers, and what you did with your tongue…I’m pretty sure is illegal in several states.” Her statements are directed at both of us–an invitation for him, and a warning to back off for me. I feel my face scrunch in disgust that I’m privy to this conversation, but then sympathy I had for Brooks is now nonexistent. “Thank goodness I’m so flexible, or we never would have been able to fit in that club bathroom.”
My eyes widen and I choke on my own saliva. The Skank-o-meter blares in my head, and I look to Brooks to confirm that not only is she a slut-puppy, but that he may in fact have gonorrhea from his bathroom tryst. With guilt written all over his face, he evades my eyes and looks down at the floor, which gives me all the confirmation I need to stay away from him.
“There’s no need to say anything, Brooks; she didn’t say anything that would surprise me. But something that I guess would shock you is I’m not that type of girl who’ll blow someone in a public bathroom, nor am I into one-night-stands. So, whatever you thought you were going to get from me isn’t going to happen,” I try to make my voice as commanding as possible. I take him off-guard and he stares at me like I’ve beaten his dog or something. “Besides,” I say, pointing to Legs, “it looks like you have more than enough volunteers to fill up your punch card.”
I turn on my heel, leaving Brooks with his bathroom Barbie behind. I walk the remaining distance to the courtyard where Will and Jen are. I’m hoping they will help clear my mind of the guy I actually wanted, who proved he is exactly what I shouldn’t.
Brooks
When Sondra found me in the hallway and said those things in front of Vivian, I wanted the tiles of the floor to split in half and swallow me whole. Not because I fucked some girl in the bathroom of a night club—shit, I’m proud of myself for remembering her name–no, what embarrassed me is that Vivian heard it. For the last month, I’ve showed up to English Comp class excited to see her, and she always smiles politely and gives me a little wave hi, but then ignores me.
The girls have adopted Will as their official fifth roommate; I, on the other hand, am probably just tolerated because I’m with him. Our other bedroom was left open, so Will and I are the only ones in our dorm; I can’t exactly complain about that. Four guys living together…I can’t imagine it always being pleasant. At least there will always be toilet paper in the suite. I’ve heard stories of guys having to wipe their asses with notebook paper because their roommate can’t manage to replace the roll. No, thank you. However, it would be nice to have some other testosterone around.
Will has turned into an excellent wing-man, but he has hooked up with very few girls himself. Considering that, and the amount of time he spends with our neighbors, I was worried I was going to have to do some detective work and figure out if he had a vagina. When he joined the intramural rugby team, he put my mind at ease a bit. I’ve been to a few games, and fuck, those guys are crazy! No vaginas allowed, for sure. I usually tag along and go to the games to watch, and when I see Will after the game with Vivian, I can barely contain myself. There isn’t anything going on between them, but it still pisses me off to no end that she thinks so little of me, and yet so freely spends time with him. When I see her hanging out with Will, watching movies and eating in the dining hall together, my jealousy spikes, and I swear I could spit nails. When I first met Red, I was merely interested in fucking her, but the more I’ve been around her, she has somehow found her way under my skin. I’ve used half of the female population on campus to try to exorcise her from my body, erase her from my mind, but then I see her, and she wiggles right back in.
Every day after our class together, I come back to the dorms hoping that she’ll invite me to hang out like she does Will. It has yet to happen. I don’t dare invite myself over without Will. Bulldog Jen would not take too kindly to that, and I have become quite fond of my balls; I’d like to keep them. I swear those girls think Will walks on water, while I am the green goopy scum under a rock. I have yet to meet their elusive fourth roommate, Campbell, but I’m sure word of mouth has given her a pretty similar opinion of me. Really though, they can all kiss my ass; I have nothing to apologize for, and the only person’s opinion that I even care about is Vivian’s.
Once again, I make the lonely pathetic trek from Comp class to the dorms, and I’m met with disappointment. Today, Vivian didn’t even come back to the dorm. Instead of Red at their door like I was hoping, it’s a dark-haired Goth chic, which I can only assume is Campbell. At first appearances, I can’t imagine that she fits in well with the other girls. She is completely and utterly punk rock, with her short choppy hair, tattered jeans, Nirvana tee-shirt, and purple Converses. We are a month into school and Jen hasn’t done any fashion magic on her, so I would say that she’s a pretty independent strong-willed girl who won’t get pushed around. I haven’t even talked to her, and from that assessment alone, I like her.
Her eyes slide to mine as she starts to push the key into the lock. Her notice of me catches me off-guard, and I fumble with my keys trying to avoid the awkwardness of being caught staring. She smiles for the tiniest of milliseconds, but it gives me just enough of a reprieve from feeling like the king pricks of the ninth floor. “Are you going to stand out in the hallway all day, or would you like to come over, Brooks?” she says, directing her attention back to the lock.
Shit, she already knows my name, which can be no big deal, or the most likely option, my reputation precedes me and she already hates me like the other girls do. My brain pounds with the possibilities of why she would invite me over. Running my fingers through my hair, pulling the ends to snap myself out of the mental clusterfuck I have rolling around in my head, I take a deep breath and put my keys back into my pocket. “Campbell, right? Are you sure it’s alright that I come over?”
She laughs and opens the door. “Jen’s not here; you’re safe for now,” she says, walking through the threshold, leaving me in the hallway to make up my mind. “What the hell,” I say under my breath and follow her into the living room, taking a seat on their couch. My leg won’t stop bouncing, and I try to calm down by wringing my hands together. It feels so weird being here without Will, my safety net.
After placing her backpack on the long wooden desk that runs the length of the living room where the girls have lined their computers, she walks down toward the bedrooms without saying another word. I look around like I’m being set up on some kind of sick and twisted joke. Kneeling down on my hands and knees, I lift the bottom of the giant purple sheet that they have used to cover the tacky brown couch to see if anyone is hiding underneath, but the only thing I come up with is a black high heel.
“You know, if you really want to play dress-up, I’m sure Jen would call a truce long enough to give you a tour of her closet,” I hear Campbell say behind me, halting my movements. My ass is still straight up in the air while my head is half-under their couch.
“Um, sorry, I dropped something and it rolled underneath, and I found this under there.” I stand, dusting myself off and handing her the shoe, hoping that she believes my little fib.
She accepts it, but throws it back under the couch, and turns to head toward their kitchenette. “Would you like a soda?” she says, opening their tiny fridge.
I have no idea what is happening, but I’m pretty sure that in the last five minutes, she has broken about a million girl code rules. My opinion of her has skyrocketed from admiration, to where I might have her name tattooed on my ass. When I don’t answer her right away, she grabs a soda for me, shoves it into my chest, and walks past me. The pop of her soda lid brings me back to the present, and I sit back on the couch across the room from the recliner where Campbell is slouching with both legs hanging off the sides. She looks completely comfortable with me being here; she’s not flirting, not nervous…it’s like she’s just one of the guys.
“Don’t you think someone is going to miss their shoe?” I ask, opening my Coke and taking a drink. The tension in my shoulders eases as she begins to talk, and I realize this is what it’s like to have a friend that’s a girl. She is being nice for no other reason than to be nice to me, and the newness of this feeling, this situation, has me buzzing.
“Of course Jen misses her shoe,” she laughs. “She is constantly losing her things because she leaves her shit everywhere. We all know that those are her favorite heels and we know exactly where it’s at. We have a bet going how long it will take her to find it.”
Exuding comfort and approachability she speaks to me with such ease that all of the anxiety from being in this dorm room, and any fear of what she may or may not think of me, vanishes. I melt into the cushions, allowing myself to feel the fabric, taking in the lavender scent of the room, and hearing light rock music softly playing in the back bedroom. No wonder Will spends a lot of time here; the only thing that would make this scenario ideal would be if Vivian was sitting here with me and I had my arms wrapped around her.
“Well that’s seven shades of fucked up; I thought you guys were all friends?”
“We are, but the princess needs to clean up after herself. That shoe has been there since the first night they went dancing. I found it while cleaning up two weeks later, and that’s when Vivian came up with the bet.” She smirks like she’s been privy to the plot of a lifetime, which is endearing considering it’s just a damn shoe. I hear Red’s name and I sit up straighter on the couch; fuck, even her name winds me up. My stomach feels like curtains of hair being twisted around a round wire brush.
“You know she actually does like you, right?” Campbell says, setting her soda down on the brown coffee table between us. It looks just like ours, shit. The covering has been peeled away in patches, exposing the particleboard underneath, but the girls have done a decent job of masking it with random placemats and a huge wooden bowl filled with pine cones in the center.
Swinging my leg up on my knee and leaning into a throw pillow, I settle into a conversation I’m not sure I want to have. The idea that Vivian might actually like me, has my heart racing, but I try to remain cool and collected, logical. “Yeah, I don’t think it would matter who exactly you’re talking about; all three of your roommates like me about as much as a nurse likes laxative day at the nursing home.”
“Okay, Jen would probably put you in that category, and Carly is the peacemaker that would like you if everyone else did. But Vivian–she’s different. She hates you because she likes you.”
“That makes absolutely no sense at all,” I say incredulously, putting my foot back down on the floor and leaning my forearms onto my knees. Here I thought she was on the guy level and could give it to me straight, and then she pulls a bipolar move and warps into girl mode. I don’t speak girl, I’m not a symbolist, and I don’t read hieroglyphics. Girls, don’t let the pirate movies fool you; we can’t do treasure maps and clues. If you want us to understand something, you have to spell it out with very few adjectives, and even fewer multisyllabic words.
“It makes perfect sense; you just don’t know why it makes sense.” Campbell slides her legs off the side of the recliner and squares her shoulders at me. Everything relaxed and nonchalant, which had comforted me about this situation five minutes ago has been erased. She scrunches her nose, and the scowl lines between her brows deepen. “Look, we all know that you like her. But they all think that you want a piece of ass and then you’d be on your way.”
“Is that what you think, too?” I snap back, matching her posture. I feel the sweat on my palms, nervous from this unexpected turn in conversation. My defenses are up, but I try to disguise it by wiping it away on my pant legs.
Noticing my sudden discomfort, she backs off a tad and reclines back into her chair. “Is that the truth?” she sighs.
I hang my head, collecting my thoughts and gathering my composure. I don’t know who this chick is, but for some reason, I don’t want to lie to her. Whether she can help me get Vivian or not, I just want to tell her the truth. This whole cocky, arrogant thing I have going on is all for show. I’m a messed up piece of nothing underneath, and with a glance, she sees right down to my deep, dark shit layer.
“When I first saw her, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Yes, I wanted to fuck her, and if I was going to get to screw her on more than one occasion because of our living situation, then I thought even better. But then I was around her more, and even though I still don’t know anything about her–damn it if I don’t want to, even if it means I never sleep with her.”
Every word I tell her is true. Vivian has captivated me in ways I didn’t think was possible, and it’s no longer about having my hands on her body, although that would be ideal. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Considering where I stand with her, I would be honored just to have her acknowledge me.
Campbell crosses her arms across her chest; her eyes narrow on me, sizing me up, looking for any wavering on my part. “If that’s true, then you need to stop being such a fucking douche and show them that you’re not the womanizer that they think you are,” she finally says. “You don’t think Vivian hears about all the girls you’ve slept with? All you’re doing is confirming for her that her original assessment of you is right.”
“Except, Campbell, I’m no different than any other guy,” I explain, holding my hands up in defense. “Those girls don’t like me because of something that all other guys do; I am just more successful at the game.” I lean back again, waiting for her to explode after my last statement.
She uncrosses her arms and moves to the edge of her chair. “That’s my point, fuck-stick. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Vivian is terrified to get close to someone; she thinks that they will leave her. When she talks about you, she says that she thinks that you would use her and then be done with her. This game you’re talking about, well, she’s afraid to play because, when it comes to you, she knows she’ll lose.”
“And this is why she stays away from me and never interferes when Jen rations out handfuls of shit in my direction?” My fingers find their way into my hair again. Images of all of the one-night-stands I’ve had over the last month and what Vivian’s reaction would have been after hearing about them invades my mind. The pain of tugging on my dark strands helps to ease my torment of hurting her, but I still consider coiling the purple couch cover around my neck and putting myself out of my misery. All this time I just thought she hated me. If I, for even a second, thought that she liked me, I never would have slept with a single one of those girls.
“All that easy pussy isn’t looking so hot now, is it?” she asks, standing and walking into the kitchenette. She returns quickly with a small trashcan and a towel. “Looks like you might need this. Jen is a messy roommate, but I’m pretty sure she would notice puke on the carpet.” I harshly take the towel from her, and then she sets the trashcan on the ground next to the coffee table before returning to her chair. An ear-to-ear grin is plastered across her face. If she was a guy, I would punch her for enjoying my moment of dejection. I have no intention of throwing up, but fuck if my stomach doesn’t feel like I swallowed an entire bottle of rubber cement.
“I appreciate you having me over and dropping this wonderful karmic bomb on me, but what am I supposed to do now?” I use the dishtowel to wipe the remaining sweat from my forehead and the back of my neck. “She’s not going to just decide I’m this amazingly decent guy overnight. Shit, right now you wouldn’t be able to convince me of that.”
Campbell polishes off the rest of her soda and crushes the can, tossing it in the trashcan like an NBA player. It would have only been more impressive if it were a beer she’d slammed. “Well, I can only go by what I’ve heard,” she says, and then produces an almost hissing noise as she scrunches her face, baring all of her teeth. Just as I suspected, she’s only heard negative things about me. I roll my eyes and motion for her to continue.
“Well, first I would say to stop thinking with your dick.” I only nod, because I knew that one was coming. If I have a real chance to be with her, I don’t want any other girls. “I don’t know how, but you need to figure out a way to show her that you would value her for her, and not only what is in her pants. She needs to know that you’re the type of guy that can stay put and fight for what he wants.”
“Fuck, okay, I can do that. You know, if you had been around a little bit more, this month could have worked out a little differently. I really could have used someone on my side; Jen can be scary.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not around much; I have friends who live in a house off-campus. I’m helping them start up and promote their band. Actually, they are having a concert next weekend downtown; you’ll have to come with us.” She rises quickly and heads toward the door, effectively ending our conversation now that it was heading in her direction. I stand as well, throw the towel in the trashcan, and follow her to the door. I guess bonding time is over. When I hear the doorknob rattle, I understand why.
Jen and Vivian waltz through the door, but both abruptly stop when they notice me. Vivian’s eyes lock with mine, and that ball of rubber cement that had been rolling around in my stomach melts, but then she diverts them to the floor. The rubber ball returns.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I hear, pulling my attention from Red to the bundle of aggression issues that I lovingly call Jen.
The witty zinger for her is ready to burst out of my mouth, but Campbell defends me immediately. “I finally met him in the hall after class, and invited him over. And actually, you owe him a thank you.”
Jen and I both look at Campbell’s two heads that she has apparently sprouted, but she continues on. “He found something important to you that you have been looking for.”
Vivian’s gaze flies up from the floor and the heat of her glare that is bouncing off Campbell is warming my face. I catch Campbell’s hint that I need Jen to disengage in her quest to destroy me, but I’m conflicted. I’m not sure how fucking up a month-long bet would help me win favor with Vivian.
Campbell’s look passes over me to Red, shooting her own play-along-and-give-the-guy-a-break look, and I see Vivian ease up out of the corner of my eye. That’s all the green light that I need. “Um, yeah, Jen, are you missing a black heel?”
Her lips purse, she hooks her hands around the shoulder straps of her backpack, and taps her fingers on the cloth. It might just kill her that I was the one who found her shoe, and now I want to tell her just for the satisfaction of seeing her swallow down a little bit of that self-righteous shit she so freely dishes out.
I pack away the douche bag comments and smirk that I so desperately want to give her, and go with the advice and opportunity that Campbell is offering. “Yeah, um, I dropped my keys and accidentally kicked them under the couch. When I looked under it to get them, I saw a shoe. Campbell said you were looking for it. I’m glad it turned up; she said they are your favorites.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond; watching her nostrils flare is enough vindication for me. I move past them all, giving Vivian a smile as I pass. Once I safely make it into the hallway, I turn around, and as politely as possible, thank Campbell for having me over.
“It was great to meet you; you’re definitely not what I expected. Don’t forget about the concert next weekend, I’ll drop off details when I have them,” Campbell says with a smile, triumph written all over her face. Jen, on the other hand, hasn’t thawed, but I’m hoping that I at least made a dent in the ice queen.
“Thanks, Cam, I would appreciate that. Let me know if you need any help spreading the word. I can hang flyers or something.” Yeah, the last bit would be a pain in the ass, but when I see Red smile, I would sign up to hang a thousand posters, or wear one of the stupid fucking flashboards on the main street just to have her smile at me again.
She nods and begins to close the door. Once I hear the lock click, I let out the air I was holding in and relax into the door, resting my forehead on the cool wooden veneer. I take a second to collect myself before heading to my room. I’m going to ditch the rest of my classes for the day and figure out a way to get into Vivian’s good graces. Hopefully, Will gets home soon so I can drill him on all things Vivian. I need to get into the female mind and figure out what girls want.
