Everything You Want (3 page)

“What?  They have good tea here.”

“Yeah, right.  Every restaurant in
town has good tea.  You must drink a gallon of that stuff a day.” 

“And you drink a gallon of Diet Coke.”

“I do not.  I have one at lunch and
one in the afternoon.”

“Whatever.  More like five in the
afternoon.”  I nudged her shoulder as we walked down the street back towards
the bank.

“Only when it gets stressful.”

“Greta, we’re tellers at, like, the
smallest bank in town.  It is never stressful.”

“Speak for yourself.  I’m not as
patient as you.  When someone is in my face screaming at me, I want to
scream back.  And if I didn’t need this job so badly, I would.” 

“They’re just customers.  Don’t let
it get to you.”

She mumbled something under her breath as
we reached the bank’s entrance.  I walked back behind the counter and took
my position next to her.

When I graduated in May with my finance
degree, I decided to move to Memphis because I thought it would be easier to
find a job.  I was wrong.  I must’ve applied for fifty positions, but
hadn’t ever gotten farther than the second round of interviews.  It always
came down to the fact that I had no experience.  But how was I supposed to
gain any experience if no one would hire me?  So I took a job as a teller
at a small bank.  I’d worked as a teller part-time during my junior and
senior years at college, so I knew it was something that came fairly easily to
me.  I also thought that at the very least I might be able to move up the
ranks there, if I stayed long enough. I hadn’t even gotten an interview
anywhere else in over a month.  It wasn’t like my job was that bad, or
that I hated it or anything.  It was fine, and it paid the bills.  I
had just hoped to be doing more at this point in my life.  I wanted an
office, or at least my own desk.  I wanted to be able to buy a new car, be
able afford a bigger place for my pets and me, and make some headway with my
student loans.  I wanted to use my degree.  All through college, I
had a plan.  I thought it would be so easy, especially in a big
city.  I didn’t account for all the other more qualified people that would
be applying for all the jobs I wanted.

I looked across the lobby.  Camden
was sitting at his desk, going over some paperwork with a customer.  I
smiled.  This job had at least one good thing going for it.    

A customer stepped into my line, blocking
my view of Camden and I got back to work.  I could hear the teller on my
right flirting like mad with her male customer and it took everything I had not
to gag.  My coworker, Teena, thought she was the best thing to ever happen
to the men of the earth.  If a relatively good looking man stepped into
her line (and they always did, because even I had to admit, she was very
attractive) she would flirt like her life depended on it.  And the sick
part was, the men always ate it up.  Even with their wives or girlfriends
standing right next to them.  She did it with all the male employees, too,
even in front of Antonia, the bank president.  Teena had no shame. 
All of the men loved her here.  Hardly any of the women did.  I think
she preferred it that way. 

I was always friendly with her.  I
had no reason not to be.  She’d never done anything to me (besides flirt
with Camden incessantly).  It just got on my nerves.  I mean, have
some respect for yourself.  Save all that seduction for when it counts,
you know?  I don’t know.  Maybe I was a little jealous.  It’s
not like I’d had much male attention since I’d broken up with my last and only boyfriend,
Jeremiah, after graduation.  He moved back home to Alabama, and a long
distance thing just didn’t seem right for us.  Besides, our relationship had
always lacked that passion that I was led to believe some relationships had.
Truth be told, Jeremiah and I just weren’t going anywhere.  I wasn’t that
broken up about it.

After work, I drove back home to my quiet
apartment.  When I first moved to Memphis, my stepsister, Shayla,
suggested that I go to a shelter and adopt a cat.  She said that my
apartment would seem less lonely when I got home after work if there was a
little furry friend to greet me.  I, of course, ended up with two cats and
a dog.  I had originally picked out Oatmeal (named for the color of her
fur, I was told), when I was told that she and George came as a pair.  I
figured that couldn’t hurt and I agreed to take them both.  Then, as I was
filling out the paperwork for the cats, they brought Tulip, the Basset Hound,
in.  It was love at first sight.  The way she looked at me, I could
tell she needed me.  I don’t get looked at that way very often.  I
left the shelter with George, Oatmeal, and Tulip in tow.  Three pets for a
one-bedroom apartment.  Shayla was right, though.  They were the best
friends I had made so far. 

The cats circled my legs and Tulip wagged
her tail and nudged at my knees with her cold, wet nose.  After everyone
had been sufficiently greeted, I popped a Lean Cuisine in the microwave and
flipped on the TV.  I had the TV on constantly when I was home.  Even
though I loved my animals, sometimes I needed a little human interaction, and
when I couldn’t get it, I faked it with the TV.  Seeing the people on
screen and hearing their voices made me feel less alone. 

I poured myself a glass of sweet tea from
the giant pitcher in my fridge and retrieved my meal from the microwave. 
I curled up on the couch with Tulip leaning against my thigh and George and
Oatmeal at my feet. 

After dinner I flipped through the new
Us
Weekly
that had come in the mail.  I longed to call Shayla, but I knew
she would still be at work.  She worked as an assistant store manager in a
clothing store and she closed most nights.  Sometimes I wished I’d just moved
back home after graduation.  At least then I’d have Shayla. But I didn’t
belong there.  As lonely as this little apartment was, it already felt
more like home than my stepfather’s house ever did.

I sighed and put my magazine away. 
I went to the bathroom and retrieved a bottle of pink nail polish off the
counter.  I put a towel down and painted my toenails in the living room
floor.  I heard a soft beat begin in the apartment next door.  I
smiled.  I couldn’t tell what song it was, but I could guess.  He
usually listened to the same band on repeat during the weeknights.  I
painted the last toe and nodded my head to the beat.

Kieran

It was only lunchtime, and already it had
been a long day.  It was the middle of the week and finally my students
had stopped obsessing about the storm.  I still couldn’t get them to focus
on algebra, but at least they were a little calmer.

I pulled a chicken salad sandwich and an
apple out of the mini fridge behind my desk.  I was starving.  I’d
accidentally hit the snooze button on my alarm one too many times and I’d had
to skip breakfast. 

My parents only lived about a hundred or
so miles away from me, so when my mom heard that the tornado passed through my neighborhood,
she hauled my dad to Memphis with her to make sure I was okay, despite me
telling her over and over again on the phone that I was, and when she came, she
brought a huge bowl of chicken salad with her.  I can’t say I was
disappointed.  I loved her chicken salad, and now I’d be eating it for at
least a week.

There was a knock on my door. 

“Come in,” I called out.  I hoped it
wasn’t a student.  Sometimes they tried to sit in here and eat lunch with
me.  I didn’t really mind it, but I was worried the rest of the faculty would
think it was weird.  That, and it was always kind of awkward.  I
wanted to be a friend to my students, but I didn’t want to be
friends
with my students.  I wanted to be someone that they felt like they could
talk to, someone they could rely on.  I didn’t want them to call me on the
weekends to come party with them.

The door opened.  It was the chemistry
teacher from across the hall, Emery Appleby.  He was pretty much my only friend
at work.  All the other teachers kind of avoided me.  I wasn’t sure
if it was because of the hair, because I was wearing long sleeves in August, or
the fact that I was about twenty years younger than most of them.

“Hey, man,” Emery said as he sat his plastic
lunch tray down on the student desk in front of mine.

“What’s up?” I said, taking a large bite
of my sandwich.

Emery sighed.  “Is it three-thirty
yet?”

“Having one of those days, too?”  I
smiled.

“I gave a pop quiz today.  So far it
hasn’t gone well.”  He grimaced.

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t give those the
second week of class.  How’s Rosie?” I asked, referring to his wife.

“Good.  How’s…uh, sorry.  I
forgot her name,” he said, sheepishly.

“If you’re referring to Ilana, then
that’s over.  It’s been over.”

“Ilana.  That’s it.  What
happened?”

“Nothing.  I just stopped seeing
her.  It’s been about a week since I’ve heard from her,” I said.  I
took the last bite of my sandwich and threw the empty plastic bag in the trash.

“You never keep ‘em long, do you?” he
asked.

I shrugged.  My dating life wasn’t
something I cared to talk about.  It was fairly uneventful, as far as I
was concerned.  I took a bite of my apple and thought of Marissa’s
apple-scented hair, and I wanted to touch it again.

As if he had read my mind, Emery asked, “Still
hung up on that girl next door?”

I smiled.  “More than ever. 
Her name’s Marissa, by the way.”

“You got a name?  Finally.”

“Yeah.  We met during the storm,
actually.”

“That’s cool.  Have you seen her
since then?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.  It’s not like I got her
number or anything.”

“You don’t need her number.  She
lives next door.  Just go over there.”

“I don’t know.  I don’t want to
freak her out.”

“Why would that freak her out?  Does
she not like socializing or something?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe not.  She
never really has anyone over.”

“Maybe she doesn’t have any friends,” he
said, taking a bite of his fish stick.

“Nah.”  I shook my head.  “I
couldn’t imagine that.  Not a girl like her.”

“Just because she’s hot doesn’t mean she
has a lot of friends.  Look at me.  I’m totally hot and I basically
only talk to you and Rosie’s friends’ husbands.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”  I laughed. 
I liked Emery, but he wasn’t what I’d classify as a good-looking guy, and he
knew it.

“You should definitely talk to her,
though.  You’ve been interested in her for a while now. You owe it to
yourself to find out if she’s everything you’ve made her out to be in your
head.”

I frowned and took another bite of my
apple.  Truth be told, I really didn’t want to know.  It was safer to
keep her at a distance.  I could dream about her, and never be hurt, never
be disappointed.  Never get myself involved in something that I really
didn’t want to be involved in.

Emery, reading my mind again, smiled softly
and went back to his fish sticks.

A few minutes later the bell rang and
Emery groaned.  I threw away my apple core and wiped the crumbs off my
desk.  I heard Emery suck in a deep breath as he slid out of his chair and
picked up his empty tray.  “Quiz number five.  Let’s do this!” he
said on his way out the door.  I shook my head and smiled as he pumped a
fist up in the air.

The rest of the day dragged on much like
the first half.  It was the middle of the second week of school and my
students were already pining for the weekend, and so was I.  I’d spent
most of last weekend (between tornadoes, parental visits, and writing out
lesson plans) working on some sketches.  I wasn’t a serious artist or
anything, it was just this hobby I got into one summer during high school to
help pass the time while school was out, and I didn’t do it very often, but I had
found myself feeling particularly inspired…

Marissa’s car wasn’t in the parking lot
when I pulled in, which was no surprise.  I usually noticed noise coming
from her apartment around five-thirty, so I gathered she got off work about
five or so.

When I got inside I plugged my iPod into
the speakers and turned it on, pulled a stack of papers and a red pen out of my
messenger bag, and crashed out on the couch.  I graded papers for a couple
hours, until I heard the door next door open and close.  A smile broke out
over my face.  I was going to do it.  I had been thinking about what
Emery had said all afternoon, and even though I was pretty sure it was a bad
idea, I wanted to see her.  I didn’t want to ruin the perfect, easy
fantasy I had created in my head, but Emery was right.  I wanted to get to
know her, even if it wasn’t in my best interest.  I couldn’t convince
myself to care at that moment. 

I graded a few more papers and then set
them down on the coffee table.  I stood up and took a deep breath as I
walked to the door.  I flung it open and my eyes almost popped out of my
head. 

Because there she was, standing right
outside my door.