Love Left Behind (58 page)

I
laughed as I felt some of my anxiety slip away. Leave it to Sarah to make me
relax with her boy-crazy ways.

"Sarah,
you think every guy has the hots for me. And he probably thinks I'm some weirdo
that's never talked to a boy before, considering how out of it I was," I
replied.

"Well,
it's not my fault so many guys have the hots for you and you don't give them
the time of day," Sarah frowned. She then shook her head and smiled,
banishing her matchmaking thoughts. "C'mon, let's get out there!"

Sarah
and I both made our way back into the living room. Jenny, Marcus and Grant sat
on the couch, digging into their plates of food. I could see out of my
peripheral that Simon was sitting on our recliner. As Sarah and I filled our
own plates, I felt as though I could feel his steady gaze on me. Refusing to
look in Simon's direction, I sat down on the floor next to the coffee table and
placed my plate on top of it.

"Here,"
I heard his deep voice say. "Why don't you sit on the recliner. I can take
the floor."

"Oh,
no, no," I exclaimed, fluttering my hand in Simon's general direction.
"You're the guest, go ahead. And the floor's comfortable."

"I
insist," Simon replied. I felt a hand close around my upper arm. I could
feel the warmth of his body as he towered over me, pulling me close as he
pulled me up at the same time.

"Hey!"
I exclaimed. "Hands off the merchandise!" Being hauled around like I
was a piece of furniture didn't sit well with me. "Go sit down, I'm
fine." I futilely pushed Simon's shoulder, trying to get him to release
me.

Grant
laughed. "Simon's always been the chivalrous one. You're not going to win
this fight, Caitlin."

Jenny
looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was protesting so much.
"Just sit in the chair, Caitlin. It's not every day we get a gentleman
around here."

At
her remark, I saw Marcus frown but I ignored it as I tried to get myself out of
my predicament. I did
not
want Simon
touching me. I had assumed his touch would make me tense and anxious, but I
hadn't imagined that it would make me feel as though my body was on fire as
well.

"Okay,
okay!" I said, finally succeeding in pulling my arm out of Simon's grasp.
"I'll sit in the damn chair."

I
grabbed my plate and walked the few steps to the recliner and plopped myself
down loudly to express my displeasure. To my horror, Simon sat down on the arm of
the recliner, leaning back as he dug into his plate of food. I leaned in the
other direction as far as I could without toppling over and dropping my plate.

"I
thought you were sitting on the floor," I said crossly. "That's not
the floor. You're crowding me."

Simon
laughed. "There's plenty of room here. And it's the gentlemanly thing to
do to stay close. What if you feel faint again from the smoke you breathed in
earlier?"

Sarah
had been watching this whole interchange with a contemplative look on her face.
Her expression remained thoughtful as she pulled over a folding chair we had in
case we had more guests than seats and opened it, sitting down. I kept my eyes
on my plate and concentrated wholeheartedly on eating, as if my life depended
on it. I knew I was overreacting and I felt idiotic, but I felt unable to
control myself. And the lack of control was making me feel even more unsettled.

"So,
Simon," Sarah said. "What made you transfer to Maxwell?"

Simon
paused from twirling spaghetti onto his fork. "I was just tired of my old
school and needed a change of pace. Also, Maxwell has a great music program
which I'm switching my major to. And Grant's always going on and on about how
great Maxwell is so I decided to try it out for myself."

"Yeah,
but to come here from Yale?" I asked, almost accusatory, looking up.
"Who does that?"

"I
do," Simon said simply, looking down at me from his perch quizzically.

Simon's
penetrating blue eyes made me flush. What was wrong with me? It wasn't his
fault that I had seen him in one of my visions. If anything, it should make me
more sympathetic towards him. But a part of me resented his existence,
shattering the false sense of security and normalcy I had desperately grasped
these past few years. His being here, appearing before my eyes, made me fear
that I was going to go down the same path I had in high school. Where normalcy
had been replaced with an overwhelming feeling that I was going crazy.

Sarah
cleared her throat, breaking the tension. "Well, we're glad to have you
here. Now you'll have to give us all the dirt on Grant."

Grant
laughed and waved his hands in protest. "There's no dirt to tell. I've
always been the model citizen that you see before you today."

Simon
grinned. "I've got tons of ammunition against him. I'll save it for when I
need it as leverage one of these days."

"Simon
is going to be joining our band since we're still looking for a replacement for
Mike and Abe," Grant said.

Marcus
and Grant were in a band called the Henchmen. Mike and Abe had also been in the
band but they were a year ahead and had graduated last year. Marcus was the
drummer and Grant was the bassist. Mike had been the guitarist and Abe the lead
singer, but since their departure Marcus and Grant had been struggling to find
someone to replace them. The Henchmen were wildly popular in Rochester, beyond
just the students. They regularly played at a bar near campus called the East
End, but since the departure of the two members, they had only played a few
times when Mike and Abe had made the trip up from New Jersey and Pennsylvania,
where they were from respectively.

"But
don't you still need another person?" asked Jenny. She turned to look at
Simon. "Do you sing or play the guitar?"

"He
does both!" exclaimed Grant, answering for him. "That's why I'm so
excited for him to be here. He can take over for both Mike and Abe and we can
get started playing right away. We actually practiced playing together last
summer and we've already jammed over at the East End a couple of times during
the day. Joel is over the moon about it."

Joel
was the owner of the East End and he was sorely missing the extra business that
the Henchmen brought in. They were a fixture at the bar, bringing in all the
fans, especially the screaming girls. The lack of their presence had really
affected business. Joel loved the Henchmen so much - well, the money that they
brought in - that he let them use the bar as a practice area during the day
when it was closed.

"Oh,
wow," Sarah said. "I can't wait to hear you guys. When's your first
show?"

"Simon
has caught up to speed so fast with all our songs that we're playing next
weekend," Marcus replied. "We've even been practicing some songs that
he's written too. This guy's a genius."

Simon
grinned. "I'm talented in many ways, but I'm not sure I'd go that far.
I've been writing for a while and I've been in a few bands but nothing that
really stuck. I think Marcus, Grant and I are sounding really good together.
And it doesn't hurt that Grant and I have been playing Rock Band for ages, so
it's like we were already in a band together." He smirked at his last
comment and turned his attention to me. "Maybe you can be our tambourine
girl."

"Uh,
I think I'll pass on that illustrious honor," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Actually,
you should hear her sing," Sarah gushed enthusiastically. "She's
amazing. Plus she rocks on the piano. Not that you'd ever know it since she
never plays."

"Sarah!"
I groaned. "Shut it!"

"What?"
Jenny exclaimed, her eyes widening. "I didn't know you could sing, let
alone play the piano." She laughed. "You'll learn, Simon. You'll
think you know Caitlin and bam - she surprises you. I've known her since
freshman year and she's still surprising me."

"Is
that so?" Simon said, cocking his eyebrow at me as he leaned closer.
"What other talents are you hiding?"

"Wow,"
I said, abruptly standing up. "Talk about exaggeration. I'm passable at
playing the piano and I don't think anyone wants to hear me sing. I forgot my
glass of wine in the kitchen. Does anyone want anything?"

Without
waiting for a reply, I walked to the kitchen, setting my plate down on the
counter. I was feeling unsettled now for an entirely different reason. Simon's
proximity was making me squirm. When he leaned over, an arm draped around the
back of the recliner, he was intoxicatingly close as I breathed him in, his
cologne smelling way too good. His warmth was making me feel as if I was
burning up. And seeing his muscled biceps straining against the sleeves of his
t-shirt as he ate was making my stomach feel funny. Every look at Simon's face
was making me more and more aware of how unfairly gorgeous he was, with his
brown hair falling on his forehead and his perfectly high cheekbones somehow
complementing an unequivocally masculine face.

The
flashes of Simon's horrified expression in my vision were slowly fading away
from the forefront of my mind when I looked at him, but my attraction to him
was supremely unwelcome as well. I had avoided dating because that meant
letting people in. Something I wasn't planning on doing. Especially with
someone who had been in one of my visions. Besides, Simon was way too
comfortable with his own charm and good looks. I'm sure he was probably used to
girls falling at his feet. Well, I wouldn't be one of them.

With
that determined mindset, I walked back into the living room.

"What
should we do tonight?" asked Jenny.

"Maybe
we should go to the East End. Or just hang out here," Sarah replied.

"Let's
go to the East End," Grant said. "I could go for a few rounds of
pool."

"Yeah,
let's go," Jenny chimed in. "I need a night out to get over the
horrors of my physics exam."

"Why
don't you guys go ahead," I said, propping my weight on the back of
Sarah's chair with my hands. My previous seat on the recliner was wide open but
there was no way I was going back there, so close to Simon. "I have to
work tomorrow morning so I just want an early night in."

Sarah
turned around in her seat. "No way! You've gotta come. At least for a few
drinks."

"Sarah,"
I said, "I don't want to be dragging tomorrow at Colette's."

Colette's
was the French cafe that I worked at, although the only thing that made it
French were the croissants and the owner's insistence that it was French. It
was more a diner than anything else but the owner, Colleen, insisted on calling
it a cafe. Colleen also insisted on wearing a beret and had initially tried to
make her employees wear berets as well, but we had all revolted. Colleen had
opened up Colette's years ago and it was now an institution at Rochester for
students and locals alike. Colleen had named the cafe after herself. The French
version of herself, anyways. Ironically, Colleen had never even been to France.

"Come
on," urged Jenny. "Please! Just go for a few drinks. Not enough to be
hung over."

"Where's
your glass of wine?" his deep voice asked.

"Huh?"
I asked. I then looked down at my empty hands. I had forgotten that I had used
the excuse of getting my glass of wine for going into the kitchen and escaping
his close proximity. "Oh, uh...I drank it."

"That
means you're ready for another," Simon replied with a grin. "Let me
buy you one at the bar."

"No
thanks," I snapped. "I'm not a big drinker."

Sarah
creased her forehead, examining me closely. She was probably wondering why my
reaction was so out of proportion with Simon being nice. But the way he said it
didn't seem nice. It seemed...too personal. I didn't want him to have any
expectations.

"I
promise I'll get you home at a decent hour," Marcus said, giving me a
small smile. "I need to get up early too for soccer practice." Marcus
played in a club soccer league, although besides practicing they didn't seem to
do much else. They only played other teams once every couple of months.

I
felt everyone's eyes on me, which made me extremely uncomfortable. One
particular set of blue eyes made me the most uncomfortable but I refused to
look in their direction.

I
threw up my hands in defeat with a sigh. "Fine, I'll go. There's only so
much peer pressure a girl can take. I feel like I'm in an after school
special."

"Yay!"
squealed Sarah. "I feel like getting a little crazy tonight."

Grant
checked his watch. "It's pretty early. Why don't we head down there around
nine-thirty since some of us are making it an early night? We've still got a
while and I hear the spaghetti calling my name again. You make a mean meat
sauce, Caitlin."

"Hey,"
Sarah protested. "How do you know Caitlin made it? It could've been
me."

Grant
laughed, "Because I've tasted your cooking."

"Sarah's
made really good cookies before," defended Jenny. She turned to Sarah.
"What were they again? There were like pretzels and stuff in it."

Sarah
pouted. "Those were Caitlin's garbage cookies."