The Pace (3 page)

That was until he took two long strides and was standing less than two feet from me, and then I held my breath. “It can’t be,” he said, looking at me intensely. He was a good five inches taller than me, and I wasn’t short, so I started to get intimidated after all.

“I’m sorry,” I said instinctively. “I didn’t see you. I must not have been paying attention…”

“What are you doing here?” he interrupted, saying the words slowly and clearly, as if to make sure I heard the question. Well, what I was doing was ruining a perfectly good afternoon for the both of us while also ruining any self-esteem I had. There I was standing two feet in front of the most beautiful face I had ever seen, watching the muscles in his jaws flex as he bit down on his teeth, and I was feeling like I should be in time-out.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I thought I checked. I didn’t see you.”
Didn’t I say that already? I’m rambling again.

“I meant, do you go here?”

“No, I’m just having lunch with my mom.”

“On campus?” His eyes narrowed.

“Um yes, my mom works here.” At that point, I really felt like a toddler. I had to stop talking about my mom and get myself out of this nightmare. “Yes, I come here all the time,” I said assertively, shaking the hair out of my eyes and straightening my posture to look more mature. “This is the first time I’ve had this happen, and I’m sorry. I think I need to get you my insurance information. It was my fault.”

“Are you all right? You’re not hurt are you?” he asked.

I looked down at myself, and I appeared to be perfectly fine on the outside. My brain was working a little slow, and my stomach was acting funny, but I wasn’t about to tell him that so I said, “I’m fine. Let me get you my information.”

I turned toward my car to get it when I thought I heard him say, “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t you want my—”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

He slid back into his car, and I stood there looking confused as he drove off with his words still lingering. By that time, a few people had gathered. A guy, gripping a backpack with one hand, zeroed in on my personal space like a reporter.

“Did he hit you? Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I mean, no. He didn’t hit me. I hit him, and yes, I’m okay.”

“Do you know that guy?”

“No.”

“And he just drove off?”

“Um. Yes,” I replied, still trying to figure it out for myself.

“Do you have any idea how much that car is worth?”

“No.” Of course I didn’t, and as a matter of fact, I didn’t even know what kind of car it was.

“Well, you’re lucky. That’s a Maserati,” he informed. “It costs more than a college education.”

“Great.”

“Not for him it isn’t.”

At that point, he was starting to get on my nerves, so I shook my head and did a 180 on Anderson 360 to assess the damage to my own car. A busted brake light and some paint scratched off in the back left corner. My car definitely got the lesser damage of the two. I let out a big sigh and got back into my Jeep. What was I thinking?
I’m going to kill Kerry. Yes. That was it
. It may not have been what I was thinking when I rammed into that car, but it was definitely what I was thinking afterward. I was going to have to make those arrangements
after
I called my mom to tell her the grand news.

I
didn’t want to call my mom while I was still on campus, because I was pretty sure she would insist upon seeing me in person to make sure I was all right. Instead, I waited until I got home. That way I could make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. As soon as I told her, she immediately began the rundown.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes Mom, I’m fine.”

“How did it happen?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t see him.” I hoped that would be enough information. I was not about to fill her in on the text message thing.

“All right, I’ll call the insurance company and let them know. How much damage did you do to the other car?”

“Well, I put a pretty good size dent in the car, but it’s hard to tell.”

“Well, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. The insurance should take care of it.”

“Well Mom, that’s the strange thing,” I said. “He sort of drove away.”

“He did what?”

“He just said don’t worry about it and drove off.”

“Odd.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I could tell in her voice that she wasn’t completely buying the recap, but after insisting that I was serious, she settled on just having my car looked at to see what the damage was and assured me we would take care of it. Next, it was on to Kerry. I text messaged her back and just said: CALL ME.

Once she did, I filled her in on what her little message caused me to do. She was laughing and asked me what I was thinking.

“I was thinking about your chemistry teacher being hot. Remember?”

“Well I can’t help it if you don’t pay attention, but I
am
sorry,” she said, giggling. “So what are you going to do? How much damage did you do to the other car?”

I explained to her how he drove off and how I was still confused by the whole thing. She, of course, picked up on the “he” of my explanation right away and wasted no time asking me if he was cute. I couldn’t lie, so I found myself having to explain every little detail of his looks until she was convinced he must have thought I was cute, too.

“Yeah whatever,” I replied. “I’m sure he just thought I was great. ‘Moron puts a big dent in my car and babbles like an idiot. Oh yeah, and she hangs out with her mom on campus.’ Right, I’m sure he was real impressed.”

She thought about that for a second and then said, “Good point, but why did he let you off the hook then? Who does that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to get the police involved.”

“He likes you,” she said back quickly.

“Yeah sure,” I countered, in complete sarcasm.

I didn’t consider myself a genius, but I was sure whoever it was I rammed into, and then babbled to about my mom, was not interested in me. Besides, he was in college, and according to the parking lot reporter, he had a really expensive car, so I couldn’t imagine any reason he’d be interested in a high school girl. I tried to push the whole afternoon out of my head, but it stayed on my mind all evening. I kept picturing his face and trying to think of what things I could have said to him instead of the lame apologies, but there was no way to make up for ramming into someone’s car. All I could do was say I was sorry. Although, I suppose I could’ve left out the part about meeting my mom there. That was embarrassing.
Whatever
, I thought. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t banking on running into him again, literally or figuratively, so I had to fill my thoughts with something else, which turned out to be very difficult to do.

Early the following week, my mom had an insurance adjuster come out to our house to look at my car. The damage was going to cost about $550.00 to fix. That wasn’t bad at all, except for the fact that our insurance deductible was $500.00, and I didn’t have that much saved up. I decided right away that I would need to get a job. My mom made me promise to keep my grades up and to keep our Thursdays together.

I ended up going back to the used bookstore, because I remembered seeing a small hiring sign that had been in the window for a while. It probably meant they didn’t pay much, but I didn’t care. I just needed a job, and I wanted to do something that interested me, so I went.

When I walked in, the same people were at the counter, and I got a little nervous, so I proceeded to the aisles as if I were looking for a book. While rehearsing what to say in my head, I saw a girl stacking books. She looked about my age, with auburn brown hair that was cropped at her neck and pulled back behind her ears. She was naturally pretty even though she was a little heavy on the eyeliner. I walked up to her and initiated a conversation.

She was relieved to have a girl her age interested in working there, and it worked out really well, because her dad was the owner. She told me her name was Dawn, and then she took me to the front and introduced me to her dad as someone she knew. I barely had to say two words, before he asked me to come around the counter to go over days I’d be able to help out.

After the easiest interview I could’ve imagined, we settled on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday afternoons. It was a good schedule. It gave me the beginning of the week to get a jump on my schoolwork, I could still fulfill my lunch with Mom, and it would still let me sleep in on Saturday. It sounded like it was a great opportunity, so I took it without hesitation.

I was set to start on Saturday for training, so I wanted to be sure to get my assignments done before then. By Thursday morning, I was a little behind on my work, and I wanted to cancel lunch with my mom, but I kept it anyway. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t want to disappoint her by canceling, but the truth was, I was hoping to see that little black car again. I wondered if he would still park in the same lot or if he would be sure to park at the opposite end of the campus.

While I was looking for a parking space, I scoped out the lot to no avail. I began to think I was stupid for even looking. What was I going to do if I did see it? I couldn’t very well go up to him and strike up a conversation. “Hey remember me? I hit your car.” That would be ridiculous. I was silly for even looking for him. Then, I got to thinking about why he’d driven away to begin with. That was kind of rude. The more I thought about it, the more stumped I became. I wasn’t sure if he was just so angry that he needed to cool off or what. None of it made sense, and it was starting to irritate me that I couldn’t figure it out.

I found a space at the far end of the lot and headed to meet my mom, still a little annoyed that I was looking for someone who had me so flustered. I didn’t like not being able to understand things. That’s why I liked science so much. There was always something to figure out, and there was always an answer for everything. Things just needed to be analyzed, evaluated, and solved. I was good at that. So it bothered me that I had caused a problem and the solution was left dangling in midair, hovering like a constant whisper in my ear. Most people would count their lucky stars that they got off that easy, but not me.

My mom was in focus for about half of our lunch. I found myself searching around the café looking for any sign of him only to come up short with every attempt. She could sense I was a little off, and she pressed me on it. I finally had to give in and tell her I was wondering if the guy I hit was anywhere on campus. She asked me if I was afraid, and I laughed out loud.

“No, Mom, I’m not afraid. What’s he going to do? Make me fix his car? That would be horrible.”

“Well, he might decide that he should’ve gotten your information after all, once he thinks about it,” she added in.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but so what if he does. I did hit his car.”

“You did, but he should’ve gotten your information then, not after the fact. He shouldn’t be looking for you now. That would be odd.”

I was feeling very full at that moment. I had barely eaten anything, but I was ready to end the conversation about the whole thing. It seemed all so pointless anyway. There were 35,000 students there, and the odds of me seeing him again were slim to none. We finished our lunch, and I headed back to my car still wondering how far I would take this. If I knew his name, would I go look it up in the directory? Would I become a stalker? I shook my head at the thought and quickly tried to get a grip.

As I approached the parking lot, I told myself it was just some guy. So what if he was cute and had eyes that could melt butter? And so what if he just happened to be leaning up against my Jeep at that very moment?

Reflexes kicked in, with my eyes blinking a few times to confirm what I was seeing. He was definitely standing there. My hands got sweaty and my heart skipped about four beats. Thinking about running into him again and really doing it were two different things.

A million things went through my mind, so I slowed up my pace to give myself more time to reach my car. I had no choice but to walk right up to him since he was standing at my door. Leaning casually, with his arms crossed, he was wearing dark denim jeans, and a heavy charcoal-colored V-neck sweater. I thought that was strange, since it was about 65 degrees outside. It made the whole encounter seem very surreal, and I wondered whether I was imagining it all, but then he spoke.

“You again.”

“So, did you come back to collect?” I asked, biting my lip and coming to a stop in front of him.

“No,” he said, half smiling.

“So, what…” I raised my eyebrows, hoping he would give me something to go on.

“I just wanted to ask you a few things. Shall we?” He motioned toward a nearby path. I looked around and saw a few cars circling and waiting for my space, so I figured it would be a good idea to move away. I nodded my head to indicate yes and waited for him to lead the way.

“You first,” he said, with a small smile.

I walked in front of him, toward the wooded path, glad he couldn’t see my face. I was beaming. When I reached the edge of the path, I gathered my composure and turned around.

“So?”

“So,” he said, giving me nothing more. He was just looking at me with very engaging eyes, which was making it hard for me to concentrate. I had to do something to break the awkwardness of the whole situation.

“So, if you didn’t come to collect then—”

“What is your name?” he asked, fully composed.

I ignored his question. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?”

“Cut people off.”

He laughed. “That’s fair, I suppose. I’m sorry. No, I didn’t come to collect,” he answered, leaning in. “Now, can you tell me your name?”

“Sophie,” I said, with my eyes narrowing, trying to figure him out.

“Sophie,” he repeated, as if he was trying to hear the ring in it. “That’s a nice name. How old are you…may I ask?”

He could’ve asked me whatever he wanted, anytime he wanted, for all I cared, and for the first time, I was so glad to be eighteen. I couldn’t wait to say it out loud.