Lovely (6 page)

He runs his hands through his shaggy hair then goes over to the fridge and grabs a beer, motioning to me and pulling one out. “What? Can’t a guy have a clean apartment?”

I pass on the beer and collapse onto the leather couch, resting my feet on an old trunk that serves as a coffee table. “Yeah, a guy can, but you usually don’t. What gives?”

He flicks the cap of his beer off and takes a seat beside me. “My parents stopped by yesterday.”

Now it all suddenly makes sense. As much as I love Jason’s family and consider them my own, his parents are incredibly overbearing. He’s the youngest of three brothers and they’ve doted on him ever since I can remember. They don’t like the idea of him living on his own and not only check in with him on a regular basis, but expect a great deal from him. His dad’s a lawyer, a damn good one, and as Jason mentioned the other day, wants him to follow in his footsteps. Jason, on the other hand, has absolutely no desire to follow anyone’s path. He wants to pave his own way, which I admire. Unfortunately, right now, even being a senior in college, he’s kind of lost. He has no idea what he wants to do and his dad continues to put pressure on him to join the firm in any capacity once he graduates.

“So your mom cleaned up?” I tease.

He chugs down some beer and sets it on the table. “Uh, no. I’m capable of cleaning.”

“So, what happened?”

He crosses his legs and folds his arms across his chest. “It was fine. Same as always. Dad gave me the same lecture I got on the phone the other day about getting my shit together and coming to work for him while Mom just sat there saying nothing. I know she doesn’t even agree with him, but yet she still says nothing. I don’t know, man. There’s too much pressure to figure out what I want to do with my life. Sometimes I think they forgot what it’s like to be young. Maybe I want some time to explore my options. Who knows? I might move to the city and become an actor. What about you?”

I scrub my hand across my face as I consider his words. Jason and I are almost in the same boat. I mean, I’m an Economics major, but do I really want to do something in that realm? I’m not sure. I love computers and I’m a really good problem solver. I can take almost anything apart and put it back together so that it functions. As time goes on, I’ve thought more and more about it. I wish Dad was here so we could talk about it together. Although, if he was here, I’d be at the University of California right now playing baseball. “I don’t know. I’m still thinking about my options.”

There’s a long pause and I can tell Jason’s mulling something over in his head. “So, what’s Delilah up to? Is she feeling better?”

My jaw stiffens and I give him the death stare he’s accustomed to when he brings up my sister, but this time he actually does something that surprises me. He doesn’t back down.

He grabs a pillow and tucks it under his arms. “You know, Ash. I don’t know how to break this to you, but your sister is pretty amazing. She’s not only beautiful, but she’s sweet and sensitive, incredibly smart … not to mention she’s feisty as hell, which is pretty freaking irresistible. Oh wait, and did I mention that she’s twenty years old and we’re not kids anymore?”

I grin and launch a pillow at his face. “Gee, thanks for telling me how amazing my sister is … like I don’t know that already. But remember, you promised you’d stay away from her.”

He lobs a pillow in my direction. “Yeah, yeah. I remember,” he grumbles. “Come on, let’s go look at my laptop.”

I’m back in the library the next day. I know … big surprise. Cara’s staring at me, images of milk chocolate dancing before my eyes. “Seriously, why do you want to hang out with me?”

I stall, rubbing my forearm and looking around. “I don’t know … I find you … interesting.”

She flicks her pencil, causing little dots of lead to appear on the counter. “Hmph. Interesting as in a specimen you need to examine more closely?”

The edges of my lips curve as I rock on my feet. “No. I’d say interesting more like a specimen I find fascinating … that I’d like to dissect.”

She’s failing miserably to hide a smile, albeit a small one. “Okay, well, again, I like to do my own thing after school.”

I lace my hands together on top of my head. “So here’s the thing, Cara. If you’re going to help me discover my inner poet and I’m going to bare my soul to you, don’t you think we should get to know each other a little better?”

She shakes her head, her eyes unmoving, but I know she’s fighting back a grin. “No … the answer is still
no
.”

I start to walk away, but turn back. “Okay, have it your way … for now. But if you ask around, you’ll discover I’m pretty persistent.” I flip her a wink and grab my backpack to get ready for class. I can be slightly irresistible when I want to be, although I have to admit she seems completely immune to whatever charms I thought I had.

I’ll just have to try harder.

After classes are over, I march back to the library and give it one more shot for the day. When I walk in and the glass doors close, Cara turns in my direction. The moment she sees me, she shakes her head again. At least I’m getting some sort of a reaction now. It’s an improvement.

I strut right up to her with my usual air of confidence. “Hey, Cara. What are you doing after you’re done in here? Feel like hanging out?”

She bends down and reaches underneath the counter for something. When she pushes back up, she has a small 8½ x 11” whiteboard in her hand and is writing something in black marker. She turns the board around and the word “NO” is written in bold letters. I’m making headway—it’s obvious she’s been thinking about me if she’s so prepared.

I quirk an eyebrow and grin. “So, that’s a no, then?”

She lifts one of her fingernails and points to each letter. “N-O. Yes, that’s a no.”

Two can play this game. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Cara.”

She holds the board tight against her chest. “Goodbye, Ash.”

This is the hardest I’ve ever had to work to get a girl to spend time with me. Usually, they just fall at my feet. She’s both frustrating and intriguing. If I’m honest, it’s more of the latter.

I don’t know what it is about Cara, but I’m determined to get to know her even though those four little words, “she’s not your type,” are rocketing through my brain. Hell, I’m sure I’m not her type either. I don’t know. Maybe it’s her eyes. It’s almost like they’re calling to me. Professor Travinski would be impressed. That sounds damn near poetic.

Every day for an entire week I go to the library and ask Cara to hang out, and every day for an entire week she says no. It’s like we’re doing this dance together, this back and forth waltz around possibility, and from what I can see, I think she’s starting to enjoy it. I know I am. I have to give her credit, too. She’s
trying
to be somewhat creative even though she sucks at it. On Monday, she sky-wrote the word “NO” in the air with her finger after I yelled to her across the parking lot. On Tuesday, she had a piece of posterboard sitting on an easel behind the counter with the word “NO” in giant red letters. On Wednesday, she left a book sitting in plain sight on the circulation desk entitled
Not a Chance
, which I’ll admit did make me chuckle. On Thursday, I found a note in my backpack with the word “NO” written in rainbow colors over a hundred times. That made me smile, too.

Little does she know, I’ve got my own streak of creativity, which is exactly the reason why I’m pulling out all the stops today. I’m going to serenade her. Jason and I once went to an open mic night at a local café and the moment I started singing, all the women looked like they were ready to chuck their panties at me. If I recall, one actually did. I’m not expecting Cara to throw her panties, although I will admit I’ve fantasized about her in lace.

It’s odd, because it’s been a long time since I’ve used my voice to sing … four years to be exact. A nervous energy builds inside of me causing my stomach to twist, but I welcome it, just like the excitement that’s now flowing through every cell in my body. I wait for Cara after class, leaning against her brown Honda, as ready as I’ll ever be. I raise my face to the sun and let the warmth settle my nerves. Twenty minutes go by and she still doesn’t show. I hum a tune just to pass the time when I notice her coming out of the library. Her eyes are completely absorbed in a book she’s holding in her right hand, while her other hand flips the pages.

About halfway across the parking lot, her eyes shoot up, and if I’m not mistaken, she rolls them. She finally makes it to the car and crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her foot lightly on the cement. “Ash, what are you doing?”

My voice cracks a bit from anxiety when I begin, but then the lyrics flow from my lips with ease. “Cara … mmm … Cara … mmm … won’t you just say yes, Cara, won’t you just say yes? Oh, Cara, won’t you just hang out with me? Cara, come on and spend some time with me, with me … hmm … Cara …”

During the entire length of the song, her face flushes a deep red and she looks around the parking lot, panicked, to see if anyone notices what’s happening. While she seems slightly embarrassed, a smile eases onto her face by the end of the song.
Mission accomplished
.

To say she seems stunned by my prowess would be an understatement. “Wow, you have a really great voice.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I say with a grin. “I’ve got a lot of really good qualities, which you, too, can discover.”

She’s still blushing. I love the way she smirks and chews on her bottom lip.

“What’s it gonna be? Are you going to come hang out with me, or do I need to sing you another song?”

She raises her hands, palms up, in the air. “No, I’m good.” She fiddles with the straps of her dress as she contemplates. “Why do I have the distinct feeling that you’re going to keep asking until I say yes?”

I laugh and flash her a smile. “I’d go with that feeling; you’re probably right. So, let’s hang out on Monday. What do you say?”

She brings her fingers up and winds them around her ponytail. “Like I said, I’m more than willing to help out with your poetry when you need it, but I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

I cock my head to the side and grin. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. Trust me, I’m a fun guy. Really, I am, you can ask anyone.”

The brightness of her smile combined with the glare of the sun is blinding. “Okay.”

My eyes widen and my voice raises an octave. “
Okay?
”

“Yeah.”

It must’ve been the singing. Gets them every time
. “Great. So, do you want to meet up on Monday after classes? I guess we could meet on the campus green?”

She’s quiet for a minute as she twines a lock of hair around her finger and looks around. “Okay.”

One word answers are suddenly pretty outstanding. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She half smiles. “Yeah.”

I head for my car but fling a triumphant smile over my shoulder. “Try to garner a bit more enthusiasm about wanting to spend time with me, okay? I’m starting to get a bit of a complex.”

A giggle escapes that glorious mouth of hers as she turns around and opens the door to her car.