Something More Page 3

  “Because cocaine is so expensive?” Nyla turned to him, gawking at the amount of caffeine.

  “It’s not that much caffeine,” he said in a small voice.

  “It’s enough to start a heart probably, or stop it,” she said turning back around.

  “Well, it serves its purpose. I’ve never been a morning person.” That she knew for a fact. She stepped up to the counter. Tina was there smiling at her with her plastic smile. Nyla wondered if her cheeks hurt when she got home from work every day.

  “Hiya, Nyla. The ussh?” She looked over Nyla’s shoulder at Jamison, and her smile broadened.

  “Hi, Tina, that would be great.” She rang her up, and Nyla opened her large purse.

  “Tina, I’d like the ussh too; I’m getting Nyla’s today.” Tina looked at her a little disappointed.

  “No, he’s not,” Nyla told her as she reached for the money in her wallet, but Jamison already had his ready and handed her his card.

  “It’s the least I can do.” Tina took his card and ran it through the reader as she watched them closely. Then she handed Barry the cups. She didn’t make any more small talk with Nyla as she usually did. Instead, she went to the next customer, leaving Nyla to stand off to the side with Jamison.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” She didn’t like feeling that she owed something to him.

  “I know, but I wanted to.” He shrugged.

  “Why?” She crossed her arms; annoyingly Barry seemed to be taking his sweet time.

  “We were pretty mean to each other in high school, and I’m trying to turn over a new leaf here. Part of that is starting over with you.” He looked at her sincerely.

  “You understand why I would have trouble believing you, right?” she asked as she reached over and took the order Barry slid in their direction.

  “I guess.” He shrugged as he followed her out the door.

  “You guess?” She stopped just outside the door and stared at him.

  “I think it was pretty much a two-way street.”

  “Sticking that note to my butt in 10th grade that said ‘WIDE LOAD PASS WITH CAUTION’ is not a two-way street.” She began walking at a fast pace.

  “You have to admit that was pretty funny.” He smiled encouragingly toward her.

  “Or, how about in English when I had to recite my Emerson poem to the class, and you kept making farm noises?” She didn’t look at him.

  “No one ever proved that was me,” he said defensively.

  “Are you really going to deny it now? It’s me and you; I know it was you.” She stopped again and stared at him. He could feel his face turning red. “OK, I did it. And I’m sorry for all the things I did to you in high school. I was a jerk.” She nodded in agreement.

  “How do I know that all this.” She motioned around him. “Isn’t some sort of ruse?”

  “Really? I’m going to walk away from Notre Dame for you?” He looked away. “I chose this college because I liked the opportunities it offers. I don’t want to ruin your life or anything. We’re both here, and we know each other, so I just figured we might as well make the best of it. There’s safety in numbers.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve never been a numbers girl.” They stood outside her work now.

  He nodded toward the door and said, “I remember. I’ll see you around then.” She nodded and went inside.

  Chapter 3

  She rushed home after work and jumped into the shower because she expected Ethan around seven. She tried on three different dresses, and none of them looked right. One felt too suggestive; another felt too homely while the third felt too high school. She finally decided on a red, V-neck wrap dress. She put on some black strappy sandals, did her makeup, and curled her hair. She pulled her bangs up in the middle with bobby pins and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door. She was pleased with the way she looked. She picked up some of the mess in her apartment to make it was presentable. Ethan arrived and buzzed her apartment. She let him up while she finished putting on her jewelry. He came in and stood awkwardly just inside her door, surveying her apartment.

  “Have a seat; would you like something to drink?” She could tell he was anxious. She was too.

  “Yeah, that would be nice.” He smiled. She took down two glasses, filled them with ice, and poured them both some sweet tea. She came in and sat the glasses on her coffee table.

  “We have reservations at eight,” he said, just before he took a gulping drink. “This is good,” he added as she smiled.

  “Why are we so nervous?” She laughed.

  “Because this is new for both of us,” he said as he cracked his knuckles. She nodded. “Shall we?” He finished his tea and stood. She did the same and took their glasses to the kitchen. They went downstairs, and he walked to a late model sedan at the curb; it was extremely similar to her own car in the back parking lot. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a beautifully decorated, expensive looking Italian restaurant.

  “So where are you from?” she asked as the waiter brought their drinks.

  “Danville, Illinois, not far from the Indiana state line. So tell me about you in junior high and high school,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows and lacing his fingers.

  “What’s to tell? I was a nerd,with good grades, braces,and glasses, and I obsessed with young adult fiction and teenage vampires.” She winked at him. “Tell me about you as a young boy.” She leaned on her hand and gave him her best flirty smile.

  “I’m still a nerd; I had braces too, and obviously glasses.” He tapped his rims. “I was obsessed with video games and warlocks.” He grinned at her. He was adorable, she decided. After that the conversation flowed, simple and easy. All of the tension from her apartment was gone; they were very natural together, and she had a really good time. Then they took a stroll through a nearby park, continuing small talk and getting to know each other. She surprised him with her knowledge of his favorite band, and she was relieved that she had such a good time. As he walked her to the front door of her building, she thanked him for a nice evening and kissed him on his cheek.

  When she closed the door to her apartment and turned the lock, her mobile phone rang in her purse. She exhaled as she saw the name on the screen before she answered it.

  “Hi, honey, how was your first week of school?” Her mom chimed, too cheerful.

  “It’s not over yet. But it’s going well. How is your week?”

  “So busy, I had to go out to the Pierson’s farm. Black-Mist finally had her filly. She’s got a perfect white patch on his nose, but she’s jet black like her mom everywhere else. Your sister says hi.” She heard Nadia in the background.

  “Tell Nadia I said hi too; how are her classes this semester?”

  “She says they are good.” Nadia was following in her mother’s footsteps and was going to be a veterinarian. She was perfectly content in her small town, Midwest lifestyle. That might have been because Nadia was popular in high school. Everyone who met her adored her. Nyla had always felt like an outsider, quiet and not outgoing. She had never felt comfortable in her skin, not until she came to Chicago three weeks ago. Her mother continued rambling about the happenings of the town.

  “Have you seen Jamison yet?” She had Nyla’s attention again.

  “Yes, he’s in a few of my classes,” she said, annoyance in her voice.

  “Sweetie, it’s not that bad, is it? I bumped into his mom the other day at the grocery. They are so proud of him going off to Chicago like that. You could just tell in her voice. Is he being pleasant?” Her mother knew their history; she spent many nights comforting Nyla because she couldn’t contain her anger or hurt from something at school that Jamison always seemed to be the center of.

  “It just seems like he’s just always there. This was my fresh start,” she whined as she went to the bathroom and undid her dress. She sat her phone on the counter and put it on speaker so that she could move around and get ready for bed.

  “It is your fres
h start; you can make friends and make a life that doesn’t have to include him.”

  “I know; I’m working on it.” She removed her makeup and brushed the curls out of her hair.

  “I know you are, and you’ll be amazing. If he starts up his old tricks, just ignore him; he’ll get tired of it and move on. His life doesn’t revolve around you, you know.” Nyla smiled at that. She knew it didn’t, and she could wait him out. She hoped. She yawned as she took her phone into the living room and lowered her bed with a thump. Her mother heard everything, the yawn and the thump.

  “Well, sweetie, I’ll let you go; I just wanted to check on you. When are you coming home for the weekend?”

  “Probably not for a while, I work Saturdays, you know.”

  “Well, it’s only a four-hour drive. You should think about it. You can come down after work and go back Sunday; we miss you.” Nyla nodded, knowing she couldn’t see her. She missed her mom and sister too.

  “OK call me soon. I love you.”

  “I promise. I love you, too, Mom.” She ended the call and stretched out on the bed in her dark apartment, now used to the noises the city made all night long. They were the lullabies that sang her to sleep. While she drifted, however, she was suddenly in another place, staring at herself in a red spaghetti strapped baby doll dress. It had sequins on the top part and a soft, sheer fabric over a slightly patterned silk for the skirt. It was the night of the Freshman Fall Formal. She had wanted Devon Meyer to ask her to the dance, but Hershel Martin had instead. She remembered the panic she felt when he cornered her by her locker.

  “Nyla, hi. Are you going to the dance?” She felt sorry for him because he wasn’t self-aware. He needed to shower, wear deodorant, and learn how to do laundry because no one apparently did. He wore the same black jeans every day and rotated four shirts. She had enough perspective to realize that he might not have had a great home life, but other kids didn’t. His teeth were yellow, and his hair was greased to the side, without the help of any hair products.

  “I’m going with Dex and Emma,” she said without even thinking about it.

  “Oh, I was hoping you’d go with me. I’ve never been to a dance before, and you know what everyone is saying,” he said quietly. “I thought maybe we could go together.” He looked hopeful.

  “Sorry, I’m going with Dex and Emma.” She couldn’t even look at him as her cheeks burned. Then she saw him coming toward her. The flip of his head pulled his hair out his eyes, and her stomach flopped on itself.

  “Hey, Nyla.” Devon smiled hopefully at her as he stepped out of the line of passing students and stood on the other side of her, and then he saw Hershel standing there. “Oh hey, Hershel. How’s it going?” Devon was tall and lanky. He had dirty blond hair and soft grey eyes. Though he wasn’t concerned with name brands other than Converse, he was stylish. He rode a bike that he did tricks on with his friends after school, and he usually hung out at the quick mart across from Target. The owner let the kids skateboard and ride their bikes in the back of his store. He’d even built them a ramp. She thought Devon was cool. She liked his sense of humor in class, and they passed notes in study hall. “Nyla, can I talk to you?” he asked nervously.

  Reading his mind, Hershal said,“She’s going with Dex and Emma. She doesn’t want a date to the dance.” She cringed as she looked at Devon apologetically.

  “Oh,” was all he said. Hershel turned without saying another word and left them standing there looking at each other.

  “Well, I’m going to be there too with Will and Geoff. Maybe we can at least dance together, as friends.” Her hopeful smile turned down when she heard “as friends.”

  “I’d like that,” she replied as he nodded and merged back into traffic and was gone.

  So there she stood, waiting in the red dress. The doorbell rang, and when she answered it, Dex was there in a grey suit and his hightop, throw-back sneakers. Emma waved from the back seat of his mom’s van. They climbed in and were on their way. They took their picture together, Dex in the middle with an arm around Emma and Nyla. The girls turned into him both kicking up one leg as a joke. They found a table and sat. Dex and Nyla danced first. Then after a few songs, Dex and Emma danced. It was turning into a fun night considering she was dateless. Jamison sat in the corner surrounded by his friends and his date, Macy Henderson, his newest girlfriend and the prettiest girl in their class. He sat where he could see everything, facing the room, like he was the king and it was his kingdom. Finally, Nyla sat nervously sipping on her punch, searching the crowd for Devon. The chair beside her pulled out, and Hershel plopped down beside her. At that same moment, Devon came through the gym doors with his friends.

  “I’m not going to kiss you, Hershel,” she said matter-of-factly anticipating his question.

  “But everyone already thinks we have,” he coaxed, not very well.

  “I’m not going to kiss you,” she replied dryly. He didn’t say anything else; he stood and walked away. Devon made a beeline for her table with his friends in tow. They watched her guardedly. They must have heard the rumors too, she reasoned.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but smile at his hopeful eyes.

  “I’d like that.” They walked to the dance floor and synched with the rhythm. Then just as they began moving, the DJ put on a slow song. They stood there staring at each other for a second, then he put his hands on her hips, and she put her hands on his shoulders. They began rocking back and forth with stiff movements.

  “You look pretty.” He looked down.

  “You look cute too.” She looked over her shoulder. Her eyes scanned the room. Dex and Emma were dancing and looking as awkward as she felt. Her eyes fell on Jamison for a second. He glared at her but she knew she hadn’t done anything to him. In fact, since the first day of school, she’d not said one word to him, but there he was glaring at her. He didn’t look away; she did. She danced with Devon for seven more songs. She counted them, but then he said he had to go to the bathroom; she went back to the table and sat down with Dex and Emma.

  “Things are looking good over there.” Emma nudged her. Her soft brown curls sprang around her face, fallen from her up-do. Dex raised his eyebrows and smiled widely at her.

  “I really like him.” She leaned in and whispered so that no one could hear in the crowded room. When Devon came out of the bathroom, she smiled and waved. He looked at her with a strange look that she didn’t understand. He walked over to his friends by the bleachers pushed against the wall. He stood there with them for two songs, surveying the room but avoiding her. Then he was dancing with Bridget Moyer. He didn’t look at her again that night or Monday at school. In study hall she wrote him a note: What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Why won’t you talk to me? He kept it, and didn’t respond. That was the end of her romance with Devon.

  She didn’t know why the memory was suddenly in the forefront of her mind. It confused her and dredged up her insecurities. She finally drifted to sleep.

  Ethan entered the apartment moments after Jamison. He was whistling and had a goofy grin on his face.

  “What’s that about?” Jamison asked with a smirk.

  “First date.” He wiggled his eyebrows, went to the refrigerator, and took out a soda.

  “Me too,” Jamison smirked again. “Who was the lucky lady?” He turned on the TV and fell into the couch. He threw his arm on the back of the couch and his legs on the coffee table.

  “Who was your date with?” Ethan avoided the question.

  “A Chick I met at the art gallery. Her name is Angela. Who’d you go out with?” He turned and looked at Ethan still standing in the kitchen.

  “A girl from school.” Ethan crossed the room to go to his bedroom.

  “Do I know her? Wait, is she a dog or something? Why won’t you tell me who she is?” Jamison went back to flipping channels.

  “It was Nyla,” Ethan said stonefaced, as he stood frozen halfway between the kitchen and his bedroom. Jam
ison turned and faced him again. He tried to keep his expression guarded, but by the quick narrowing of Ethan’s eyes, he didn’t think he succeeded.

  “Why would you go out with Nyla?” he asked almost to himself.

  “I like her; she’s gorgeous and smart and funny, and she likes me.” Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, standing there defiantly.

  “Um, OK, if you like the neurotic type.” He turned back around and faced the TV.

  “Don’t.” Ethan didn’t move.

  “Don’t what?” Jamison asked not turning around, but he hoped his voice contained the innocence he was shooting for.

  “Don’t do this; I saw how you looked at her yesterday. I know you two have a history of some sort, and I know she doesn’t care for you very much. I like living here, but if you’re going to rag on the girl I like, I will find another place to live.” Jamison knew that Ethan was threatening more than moving out. He threatened to move Jamison out of his study groups if he fell out with Nyla and Ethan. He didn’t know if he was more worried about his grades or losing his close access to Nyla.

  “What makes you think we have history?” He tried to ignore Ethan’s threat.

  “She told me.” He took a step closer to the couch.

  “What else did she say about me?” Jamison couldn’t help his curiosity.

  “Not much, but she asked if you’d said anything about her, probably afraid you’d say she was neurotic or something.” He sat down in the leather easy chair and leaned on his elbows, his eyes boring a hole through Jamison.

  “Proves my point,” Jamison shrugged.

  “Shut up. Why do you do that?” Ethan asked with a hard stare.

  “What?”

  “Pretend like you don’t care about anyone or anything? Like school, or Nyla. Will you even go on a second date with Angela? She’s like the sixth first date you’ve had since you’ve been here. What are you so afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid of anything. I just like to keep my options open, and for your information, Angela and I are going out Saturday. Look, I’ve known Nyla since seventh grade. I tried to be her friend, but we always seemed to flow better as enemies. It’s weird; everything I did was simply in a response to her. Kids are mean, I guess.” Jamison shrugged at his last statement. Even he didn’t believe that completely.