Bouquet Toss (3 page)

“Would you like to grab a drink?” he asks, smiling awkwardly, those gorgeous green eyes staring into mine.

“As a matter of fact, I was just headed to the bar.”  I say, my voice trembling.  This is not good. 

As we walk towards the bar, I see Tanner is standing with the other groomsmen.  He raises his glass with an expectant smile and I remember my promise of a drink.  Damn it.  There is no way that I can balance Mayson and another incredibly cute guy right now.  I’m confused enough as it is!  Feeling awful, I turn away from his gaze.  As I focus my eyes back on Mayson, I can see Tanner’s smile diminish out of the corner of my eye. My heart sinks.

A few minutes later, I find myself sitting at a table near the dance floor.  Mayson is seated beside me and I silently wonder where his date is. I was so shocked to see him during my speech that I didn’t have time to notice her.  All I can remember is the color blue from her dress.  My eyes search the room for a young woman in blue, but to no avail.  The only women wearing blue are those with silver hair and deep wrinkles.  None of them could possibly have been his date, his “friend.”

“Are you alright?  You seem really preoccupied.”  Mayson says uneasily.

“Oh, I’m fine,” I smile, my voice shaking a bit, “It’s just a little surprising to see you here tonight.”

“Yeah, it is weird, isn’t it?”  He stops and stares at the guests on the dance floor, a conflicted look upon his face.  He glances towards me, smiles gently and asks, “By any chance, would you like to dance, Daphne?”

“Sure, that would be nice,” I say with a tinge of hope.  Were the gods trying to send me a message?  Should I not have parted with my journal?  Did I have to make the decision to forget him in order to fall in love with him all over again?  As he reaches for my hand and leads me to the dance floor, my heart pounds frantically in my chest.

“I have a confession to make,” Mayson says, looking sheepish, “I knew you’d be here tonight.  That’s part of the reason I agreed to come.”

“Really?” I was genuinely shocked at this sudden admission.  Could it be that Mayson had been thinking of me these past few years?  Is it possible that I’m not alone in clinging to our past?   The thought seems so impossible, yet here he is with me in his arms, slowly gliding me across the dance floor.

“Yes, of course.  I know that you and Elise are best friends so I was certain that you’d be here.  So, I took a gamble and came here with Daniela.  You remember Daniela, right?”

“Daniela?”  Of course, Daniela!  She was a college classmate and was also in Mayson’s architecture program.  She had even studied in
France
with Mayson.  Daniela was such a tomboy that I had never thought of her as someone whom Mayson would choose to date.  I had completely forgotten that she was also a friend of Elise’s from the dorms and that she would be invited to the wedding.  Things finally made sense.

“Yeah, we actually got a job in the same firm.  It was all because of the year we spent in
France
.  We presented our projects and were both hired.  Small world, huh?”

“Sure,” I say with a smile, still unsure if he was friends with Daniela or dating her, “So, are you two very close?”

“We’re not dating…if that’s what you’re trying to ask me.” He flirts, his bright green eyes sparkling under the giant chandelier above our heads.

“So, where is this architecture firm the two of you work for?”  I’m pressing for more information, of course, but I’m trying my very best not to seem too obvious.

“Well, Daniela works for the division based out of
Milwaukee
.  And, I’m in
Denver
.”

“Wow, so you did it.  You always wanted to move to
Denver
.” I say, trying desperately to hide my disappointment. 
Denver
was a thousand miles away.

“Yeah, I’ve been there since college and I’ve loved every minute.  But, Daniela and I have been collaborating on a new library for our old campus.  The firm selected each of us, naturally, because we are
Illinois
alumni.  So, we’ve been meeting there every few weeks to work on the project.”

“Wow. That is really exciting, Mayson.  I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Daphne.  That means a lot to me,” he pauses, looking deep into my eyes and continues, “Look, I’m sorry for the way things went down right before graduation.  You must think I’m such an ass for sleeping with you and then never calling.  Especially since that was the first time--”

“Don’t worry, Mayson,” I interrupt, “That wasn’t my first time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  The lie feels awful leaving my lips.  Why did I feel the need to hide the truth from him?

“It wasn’t?” he asks incredulously.  He seems hurt, but why?

“No, so don’t you worry,” I say with a hint of sarcasm, “you haven’t scarred me for life.”  Or had he?

“Well, I still felt like an ass for not calling.  I was so busy getting acclimated in
Denver
and adjusting to life as an actual architect.  And by the time I was really settled in, it seemed like too much time had passed.  I figured you’d hang up on me or something if I tried to call.”

“You could have tried, you know.  I wouldn’t have hung up.” The words fall out of my mouth in a soft whisper.  What am I doing?  Am I trying to get crushed all over again? I gaze up at his beautiful forehead. His tousled hair is starting to sway into his eyes as we dance.  Slowly, my fingers push the strands of hair from his long, silky eyelashes.  He smiles sincerely and heaves a sigh.

“Well, that’s good to know,” He replies, leaning in closer to me, almost nuzzling into my neck.  We continue to sway slowly on the dance floor.  I glance around to find Elise.  She’s dancing with Henry and manages to give me an apprehensive smile.  Mustering up the energy to look relaxed and calm, I perk up the corners of my mouth in return. I want so desperately to ease her concerns.   If only I didn’t have so many of my own.

After our dance has finished, Mayson surprises me with an early departure.

“Well, I’d better get back to Daniela.  After all, she is my date.”  He stops, runs his fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath and continues, “It was really wonderful to see you.  Are you still living with your parents?”

“No, I have an apartment a few towns over.  It’s closer to the school where I teach.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot that you wanted to be a teacher.  That’s awesome!”

How could he forget my chosen career path?  Do I mean so little to him that he can’t even be bothered to remember my life’s passion?  When we dated, all I could talk about were my teaching courses and how excited I was to be tutoring at the local high school.  I was nothing if not a completely devoted teacher-in-training.  It was such a large part of my identity, how could it have slipped his mind? 

“Well, may I have your phone number then, Puddin’?” he winks at me and I feel like his conquest all over again.  That was his nickname for me, at least whenever he had a bit too much to drink.  I was always teasing him for his
South Carolina
accent.  One night after too many bottles of beer, he started calling me Puddin’, a nickname that made me melt into a big pile of mush. I never expected to hear it again after our last night together in college.

Hesitantly, I give him my phone number in the hopes that we may reconnect in the near future.  Regretfully, I leave him on the dance floor and join the other bridesmaids, all of whom are wondering how I am dealing with the reemergence of the notorious Mayson.  I shrug at their many questions, wishing I had an answer.

Later that evening, I catch Elise’s beautiful bouquet.  Was there ever any doubt?   After my catch, I try my best not to make eye contact with him, but it proves to be impossible.  His eyes bore into me and the air in my chest vanishes.  What in the world have I gotten myself into?

Sophomore Year (Spring Semester)

“Mayson, I was hoping that we could talk about us for a minute,” I say, my blood is pumping furiously through my heart.  Things have been different between us ever since returning to campus after Spring Break.  Mayson is different; his calls are less frequent, and he hasn’t slept over in more days than I can count.  Something is wrong. 

Elise has convinced me to talk to him and find out what’s happening between us.  But, I fear this conversation will only lead to bad things; that I may just give him the excuse he is looking for to walk away from me.

“Yeah, what do you want to talk about?” he asks looking down at his cafeteria tray.

“Well, we haven’t really spent much time together lately.  And, well, I’ve been sensing that you are pulling away.  Have I done something to upset you?”  My heart is racing, my fingers are trembling.  I am terrified of where this conversation will lead; but I have to know what’s going on.  I have to know if I’ve lost him.

“Don’t be silly.  Of course not, I’m just really busy with classes.  I didn’t realize that the architecture program would be so time consuming.  And, I really blew it off for a few months, so I’m trying to make up for all that wasted time.”

All I can focus on is that word-- ‘wasted.’ Obviously all the time that Mayson and I have been a couple, he deems as wasted time.  How awful.  How can he say something so hurtful?

“Well, I didn’t mean to waste your time, you know.  I thought we were in love.”

“Yeah, I know, but sometimes you have to make priorities, Daphne.  I haven’t been sticking to mine lately.  I realized that while I was home.”  He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at his mashed potatoes, “I realized a lot of things,” he mumbles.

“Like what?  Like about us?” I ask, desperately clinging to the hope that he will ease all of my fears.  But, deep down, I know we are headed for a fall, a big one.

“Yes, Daphne, we spent so much time together that I lost a lot of time with my friends.  And while I was home, I realized that friends come first.  Friends will be there long after all the girls are gone.”  He won’t look at me.

“Oh, so now I’m going somewhere?”  My head is spinning and I am feeling a sudden urge to flee, from Mayson, from this conversation and from myself.

“Did you really think we
weren’t
going to break up?  I mean, everyone breaks-up eventually.  It’s inevitable.  You can’t say that you really thought this was going to be for the rest of our lives, can you?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to say that now!  God, Mayson, where is all this coming from?   We don’t have to plan our wedding or anything like that.  We’ve been together for six months and it’s been wonderful. I think I deserve to be a priority, just as much, if not more than your friends,” I’m trying not to raise my voice too much, it feels like the walls are closing in on me.  Two girls at the next table are already eavesdropping and I’m hoping not to draw the attention of any of the other students around us.
             

Suddenly, in the pit of my stomach, I wonder if this is about something else; the one source of tension that exists between us.  My virginity.  Mayson has been so patient with me, knowing that I haven’t been ready, but deep down I’ve felt his frustration for months.

“Mayse, is this because we haven’t…you know, slept together yet?”

“I don’t know,” Mayson replies, shrugging his shoulders with a nonchalance that runs chills up my spine.  He shakes his head, staring at the table.   “Maybe we need to take a break from one another.   I have two years left at this University and I need to raise my GPA.  I don’t have time for all of this right now.”

“Wow,” I say, my heart breaking in two, “that’s just fine.  You focus on your work.”  And with that, I stand up, choking back the tears and walk out of the dining hall, leaving my tray on the table.  Mayson doesn’t say a word.  He doesn’t try to stop me.  I’ve let him off the hook. What I feared the most is now my reality.

I hurry back to my dorm room and cry for three hours, clutching the stuffed dog that he gave me on our fourth date.  As I look around my room, I’m overwhelmed by all of the memories surrounding me.  Pictures of us together fill my bulletin board. CDs that we listened to while snuggling lay on the trunk next to my bed, old candles on my desk remind me of romantic nights spent talking about the future.  Eventually, I cry myself to sleep, soaking my stuffed dog with tears.

Profile (Present Day)

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I say to Morgan who is sitting on the floor of my bedroom.   I’m stuck at my computer as Morgan forces me to do something I really don’t want to do.
             

“I’m telling you, Daphne.  Your profile sucks!  You’re never going to find the right guy because you’re not really representing yourself accurately.  You need to be real.”

“I
am
being real, Morgan.  My profile is brief, that’s all.  I don’t feel the need to tell my life story on an online dating site.”

“I know, Daphne.  But, you need to give these guys a glimmer into how wonderful you are.  Right now, all they know is that you’re a teacher who lives in the suburbs.  You’ve got to spice it up a little bit.  Tell them that you make killer jell-o shots, stuff like that!”