Cinderella Screwed Me Over (17 page)

“No,” Karl said, like he was shocked. Then one corner of his mouth twisted up. “I probably shouldn’t say this, since I’m all about peacefully working things out, but I guess you’ve gotta get punched once in your life. It’s kind of a rite of passage for a guy.”

“I wouldn’t suggest making it a habit. Girls aren’t as crazy about it as you’d think.”

“Darby, do you mind riding home with Karl?” Anthony asked. “I’d like to go with my lovely fiancée. And Finn lives pretty close to us.”

Stephanie gave me that what-can-you-do look.

It’s not like I had a choice. “Sure.” I held my hand out to Karl. “Give me your keys. I think I better drive.”

…

By the time we got to my place, Karl’s eye was nice and puffy. “How far away do you live?”

“It’s about another forty minutes north.”

“I think you should come up and ice your eye. See if you can get the swelling down before driving home.” I pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Besides, I feel like I owe you. I still think I would’ve won our game of pool”—I flashed him a smile to let him know I was joking around—“but you didn’t get to eat, and I’m sure you’re hungry.”

I headed through the lobby of the building with Karl. I decided to stop at the vending machine and grab a couple of sodas. I needed some caffeine. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take a Pepsi,” Karl said.

I bought a Pepsi for him and a Mountain Dew for myself, then we got on the elevator. I held my cold can of Mountain Dew on Karl’s eye. “Here, this should help.” Metal and cold worked wonders on swelling.

The doors of the elevator opened back up and Jake stepped inside. Of course.

“Don’t worry,” I said as the elevator lifted. “I didn’t punch him that hard.”

Karl laughed. “After everything you put me through tonight, at least let me keep my dignity.”

“But if you don’t have any dignity, how can I let you keep it?”

“I thought we were at peace now.”

“Sorry. It might take me a few days to switch gears to being nice to you.” The elevator stopped, opening up on my floor. “This is me.”

Karl walked into the hall. I stuck my hand over the elevator door so it wouldn’t shut, then twisted back to Jake. “Long story. The short version is it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“You have my number,” Jake said. “And you know where I live.”

I smiled at him. “I
think
I remember.” I let go of the door and blew Jake a kiss good-bye as my view of him narrowed.

As soon as Karl and I got to my apartment, I pointed him to the couch. “Have a seat and I’ll get you some ice. The can probably isn’t cold enough anymore.” I headed to the fridge and dug out a bag of frozen peas, then walked over to the couch and handed it to him. “Peas do a good job because they conform.”

“You have lots of experience in this kind of thing?”

“Too much. Combination of breaking in a horse and having a boyfriend who liked to get into fights.”

Karl sat there, holding the bag of peas on his face. “Who could’ve seen this coming after our disastrous date? You’re actually pretty nice when you want to be.”

“Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got to keep up my reputation.”

Karl smiled, then winced. “I know it wouldn’t have solved anything, but I kind of wish I would’ve at least taken a swing at the guy.”

“Then you’d just have cut-up knuckles to go with your busted eye.” I leaned back on my couch. “I would’ve really liked to see that guy go down, though. Freakin’ jackhole.”

Twenty minutes later, the swelling had lessened, the ibuprofen had kicked in, and we’d filled up on grilled-cheese sandwiches. Karl decided he was good to drive home, so we said our good-byes and I sent him on his way.

What a night.

I picked up the bag of soggy peas.
Now this brings back some memories…

Beauty and the Beast
Case Study: Boone/The Beast

My Age: 19

I started college with the feeling that no matter who I met, he’d never be as good as Gil. In a lot of ways, this was true. Still, there comes a point when you’ve got to try to move on.

Boone was in one of my study groups sophomore year. The first time I met him, I wouldn’t have used the words
cute
,
hot
, or any other flattering word to describe him. He had a big nose and out-of-control, dark hair that stuck in all directions. But there was something about him—the whole tortured-artist thing—that drew me in.

We started flirting and he seemed better-looking every time I saw him. He took me to his place and showed me his paintings. His artwork had this deep, disturbing quality. The nightmare images displayed pain, anger, and suffering. Simply looking at them made me feel a mix of emotions, and I thought that was powerful.

After dropping a few hints that I was into him, I still couldn’t tell how he felt about me. So one night when we were studying, I finally got the courage to say something. “Boone, if I told you I was interested in being more than friends, how would you take that?”

He stared at me like I’d asked him to travel to the moon with me.

My cheeks blazed. “Forget it.” I started gathering my books, desperate to get away from the humiliation.

Boone put his hand on my wrist. “Why would
you
like
me
? You’re really pretty. And smart. And I’m just…not those things.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I think you’re funny, I like hanging out with you, and your artwork is amazing.”

He slowly leaned in and we shared an awkward, all-open-mouth first kiss. It got better over time. Before long, we went everywhere together. But the more time I spent with him, the more I saw him lose his temper. When his painting wasn’t going well, he’d throw paintbrushes and yell; he had several arguments with his roommates; his road rage was bad enough I started driving everywhere we went. Then he’d always calm down and go back to the guy I knew.

He began calling all the time to “check in.” Being somewhere he didn’t think I should be started an argument. If I ever talked to another guy at a party, on campus, or in class, he’d go off about it. He started throwing punches at other guys on a regular basis. Eventually, the fight would be broken up. Afterward, we’d go back to his or my place and I’d ice his bruises, soak his cuts, and he’d tell me that he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me. I felt like if I just stuck by his side, he’d see that I cared about him, and he’d stop fighting everyone else.

Instead of getting better, it got worse.

“Did you drink all of the juice?” Boone asked one day while we were at his apartment.

I looked up from my book. “No. I haven’t touched the juice. Didn’t you finish it off yesterday?”

“I think I would’ve remembered that. You think I’m stupid?”

I stood and hugged my book to my chest. “I’m not going to sit here and let you yell at me. I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“There you go, overreacting like you always do. I swear, you make every little thing into a big deal.”

“I think you yelling at me over juice
is
a big deal.” Every time I said anything, he acted like I was completely crazy. Like I was some psycho chick who was irrational. The guy who yelled at me over juice insisted
I
was irrational. “I’m going home. Call me when you decide to stop being a jerk.”

I opened the door, but he slammed it closed from behind me and put his foot in the way, so I couldn’t pull it open again. I twisted to face him. “Come on, Boone. Move so I can go.”

“You leave, you leave for good.”

I stared at him, my heart racing. “I guess this is good-bye forever, then.”

He punched the door and I flinched, thinking I was next. He let out a stream of profanities, then stormed back to his room.

The next weekend I was at a party with Stephanie, talking to Carlos, who lived in our same building. I saw Boone walk in and immediately panicked. He met my gaze from across the room and started toward us. My pulse sped up with each step that brought him closer.

“Who’s this?” he asked, glaring at Carlos.

“He’s just a friend,” I said.

Boone stepped closer to Carlos, getting in his face. “Why are you all over my girlfriend?”

“Calm down, dude,” Carlos said. “Darby and I are just talking.”

“That’s the problem. You need to stop.”

I tried to sound as firm as I could. “
You
need to stop, Boone. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, and if you’re going to be like this, you need to leave.”

Boone took a few steps away from us and I let out a shaky breath.

Carlos put his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

Boone glanced back, saw the contact, and went crazy. He charged Carlos, throwing wild fists through the air. Unfortunately for Boone, he finally picked on someone too big. Carlos’s main hobby was working out—at a boxing gym—and Boone was no match. It took several people to break up the fight, and by the time they did, Boone’s nose was gushing blood, and I suspected he’d have a black eye, if not two.

I stared at him, thinking that he’d gotten uglier and uglier over the past few months. And yeah, that does kind of happen in
Beauty and the Beast
, too. All that time spent waiting for the prince, and then he turns human and you think, man, he was cuter as an animal. Who knew you’d be asking for bestiality in the end?

My grandma always hated the story, claiming it was ridiculous that a pretty girl would fall for a beast. It used to be one of my favorites, though—one of those true-love-will-fix-anything stories. Belle was so patient and overlooked his temper, even ignoring the fact that he almost killed her dad and imprisoned her. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to make girls think they can heal a guy with love and patience, though. Because most guys don’t ever change. At least in the movie, the beast really does learn to love, and his mean streak is broken. I don’t know if Boone ever had his mean streak broken, but I knew I couldn’t stick around to find out.

Time Wasted:
Three and a half months

Lessons Learned:

Getting mad once in a while is normal. Flying off the handle over every little thing is a sign to run.

No aggressive or overly jealous guys.

No letting a guy walk all over you.

You can’t fix people. They have to learn to fix themselves.

Chapter Fifteen

Unable to concentrate on work, I sat at my desk, drumming my fingers along the top of it. I imagined Jake was starting to wonder what he’d gotten himself into with me. I probably shouldn’t have made that joke about punching Karl. Especially since he’d heard the story about me slapping Ralph. But he got that I was kidding, right? I’d even blown him a kiss to show him he was still the guy for me. I mean, if I were choosing guys. Which I…wasn’t? No. Jake and I were free agents, keeping everything light. Still, I wanted to give him a full explanation. If the tables were reversed, I know I’d want one.

I waited until I was sure Jake would be awake and called his cell. The call rolled to voice mail, so I cleared my throat, readying myself to leave a message. “Hey, it’s me.” I hated it when people said that. Most of the time I didn’t know who it was until halfway through the message. “I guess that’s pretty arrogant, assuming you’ll recognize my voice. Or maybe I’m already programmed into your phone. Not that I’m saying…” I wanted to start over. Be calm and collected. “Anyway, it’s Darby. Who else would leave you a rambling message without ever getting to the point? The point is give me a call. If you want to. Last night was crazy, and I just wanted to tell you that—”

A loud beep cut me off.

Awesome. I left a drunken message without the benefit of actually being drunk.

Calling back to finish seemed extra desperate. Especially if he’d been screening me on purpose.

I tossed my phone on my desk and ran my hands over my face. “Urgh. This is why I don’t do relationships.”

My phone chirped and I picked it back up. A text from an unfamiliar number. When I opened it, I saw a picture of Karl. Underneath his eye was a line of purple and red. At least it wasn’t swollen shut.

T
HOUGHT YOU’D ENJOY THIS.
E
VERYONE AT THE OFFICE SURE IS.
T
HEY’RE ALL SO CONFUSED WHEN
I
SAY
I
GOT IT PLAYING POOL.
T
HEY SEEM TO LIKE “GOT INTO A BAR BRAWL BECAUSE OF A GIRL” MUCH BETTER.

My fingers flew over my keypad.

I
THINK IT’S ONLY CONSIDERED A BRAWL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE INVOLVED.
Y
OU WERE MORE LIKE A PUNCHING BAG FOR A DRUNK GUY BECAUSE OF A GIRL.

I hit send, then set down my phone and opened up my files for Mrs. Crabtree. Another chirp caught my attention. Karl had sent a message back.

Y
EAH,
I
LIKE MY VERSION BETTER.
I
GUESS YOU AND
I
JUST COMMUNICATE DIFFERENTLY.

I laughed and then sent another message:

I
SWEAR
I
HEARD THIS REALLY SMART PERSON SAY THAT MEN AND WOMEN COULDN’T COMMUNICATE VERY WELL…
I
BETTER GET TO WORK.
I
’M SURE
I
’LL BE SEEING YOU AROUND.

I was surprised how much I’d ended up liking Karl by the end of last night. While I knew Stephanie had initially set us up hoping for a romance, that kind of spark wasn’t there. But I thought we might get to be friends eventually. It’d be nice to have him to talk to at all of Anthony and Stephanie’s upcoming wedding events. And even though I still wasn’t totally sold on the marriage counseling thing, he did see a lot of different types of couples, and it gave me hope that he thought Anthony and Stephanie would make it. Regardless of my jaded stance on forever love, I really wanted them to be one of those couples who defied the odds.

And if they can make it…
I thought of Jake, the way I seemed to be doing more often than not lately. I could feel a glimmer of hope trying to wedge its way into my heart, whispering that maybe this time, it could actually be different.