Fix It for Us (2 page)

Davis’ voice pulls me out of my fog of recollection, “Lizard, is
that okay?  Say something.” 

“Um…yeah.”
I shake my head slightly, and come back to the conversation. “We’ll date.  And then we’ll tell people – slowly.  But no one at school yet.  No one.  Not until we talk to our parents.”  I can’t wait to see how that goes.

My parents are rather conservative.  Not like Tea Party conservative, but right of center for sure.  I am pretty sure Davis’ parents are Democrats. 
His father, the Former Lieutenant Governor of Illinois, James Brandon. ran as a Democrat.  The whole family is way into gun control and the promotion of mental health awareness, for obvious and personal reasons.  Davis’ brother Cole accidentally shot his father with a handgun and then took his own life, in front of his whole family and his (and later Davis’) girlfriend, Kathleen, after suffering from untreated bi-polar disorder.  The incident left Davis’ father with a spinal cord injury and wheelchair dependent. It devastated them all for a long time.  I just learned of it.  I have been wondering how much of it is still unresolved in their hearts.

My cell phone whistles a text alert at me.  I pick it up to look.

“It’s Jules.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Smarty pants.  She says classes at Weldon are cancelled again today, because the commuter lots aren’t cleared and some of the roads out there are still a mess, but they anticipate class tomorrow.”  I frown a bit and add. “Much as I hate it, I think we have to go back today.  I’m sure I have exhausted all the favors I can call in for RA coverage over the ‘extended weekend.’  I’m going to owe the other RAs big time.”

Davis agrees.  We have t
o go back to reality.  That is why he was so determined to keep me in his condo, naked in his bed, all morning, he confesses.  I like that.  He is as sad to see our time alone end as I am. 

We walk hand in hand back to the condo.  There is no need to talk.  We just want to enjoy
the rest of our time together.  I realize when we get back to the condo, I don’t really have anything to collect.  I am wearing the clothes I arrived in four days ago and I already have my purse.  During our dreamy alone time, I was either wearing my underwear, a pair of his boxers, his sweats or nothing.  I check my phone.  No more messages from Jules.  I guess we really have to go back.  Davis asks me if I’m ready and I tell him, a bit forlornly, “Yes.”

  Still silent
, we get in Davis’ big black Escalade and make our way back to Weldon University and my last semester of college.

*
**

I haven’t b
een in my dorm room since Sunday morning.  It’s Wednesday.  Opening the door and walking in with Davis, it feels small and unfamiliar.  With Davis in the room, it feels even smaller, not that I mind at all having him so close to me.

“This feels so weird.” I blurt out.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’ve been tucked away at your place for so long and I got so comfortable there in such a short amount of time.  It feels strange to be back in my dorm room.  Does that make sense?”

“Sure.”  Davis turns me toward him and picks my chin up to look at me.  His hands are sliding up and down on my upper arms in the most comforting way.  “We escaped and were in a fantasy for four days.”

I explain to Davis that now that the storm is over and classes are going to be back in session, I won’t be able to spend four days in a row at his place anymore.
  I have to be responsible.  He isn’t pleased with the update. I have to be available at the dorm for my RA duties on the nights and weekends I am scheduled.  “I’m not happy about it either, Davis.  I’d much rather go to class, go to rehearsal and go home with you, honestly.”

Davis kisses me quickly on the lips and says, “You could always quit.”

I step back a bit.  I probably have my mouth hanging open. “Quit?”  I gasp.  “I can’t quit.  I can’t pay to live somewhere else.  This RA job is the only thing that pays for my room and board.”

“You could move in with me.”  He has a huge, hopeful grin on his face and has raised his eyebrows in question.

I just stand there and blink and gawk at Davis like a fish out of water.  “Me moving in with you is hardly along the lines of the ‘dating’ and then slowly telling people plan we talked about.”

“That’
s more your idea than mine.  I would move you in tonight, if you’d let me.” Davis is dead serious.

“I can’t…
we can’t… I can’t just quit.  I don’t do that.  I made an agreement to finish this RA position.  I really can’t quit after finally winning Little Jan’s trust back.”  My junior year ended in a series of minor dorm disasters that had me on the verge of losing my position and threatening my completion of school.  I got another chance, and so far this year has been going very well.  Little Jan, the Residence Director, is happy with my performance.  “We’re just going to have to spend time here on the nights I’m on duty.   I really only have one or two nights off a week.  I know it’s not perfect, but that’s the way it is.”

“I can’t say I am happy about it.”  I believe
Davis is actually pouting. “I’m going to keep trying to change your mind, too.”

I recall another bit of information Davis needs.
“Oh… and we are going to have to have Charlie check you in as his guest when you stay over.”  This evokes a huge eye roll from Davis and a giggle from me.  “Hey, I have been checking Jules in as my guest for a better part of the year.  They totally owe me.”

“You know what’
s going to happen?”

“What?”

“People are going to start thinking I’m dating Charlie.”

“I can assure you, they won’t.”

“Oh, yeah….Promise?”

I shake my head ‘Yes’ and launch myself onto him
, thrusting my hands in his hair and kissing him hard.

There is a loud, insistent knock on the door. “Biz, are you in?  It’s Roger.  Hey, are you back from wherever it is you’ve been, ‘cause I am locked out and I don’t want to have to go search for another RA.”

I stop kissing Davis, sigh and rest my head on his shoulder in frustration, “It begins…see? I’m needed. Duty calls.”

Davis waves for me to go open the door.  I open it and there is one of my residents, Roger, waiting hopefully.  He smiles at me, up-nods to Davis and says
sheepishly, “Uh… Hi, man.  Sorry to interrupt…Biz, can you let me in my room?”

“Sure.”  I turn to Davis.  “I’ll be right back.”  He thrusts his hands in his front pockets, smiles and nods.

I leave and go down the hall to let Roger back in his room.

I
want to get back to my conversation with Davis.  I want to make sure he understands my reasoning and is not too disappointed by having to spend time in my tiny dorm room instead of his luxurious condo.  It is only minutes, but when I get back to my room, the door is closed and locked.  I look up to see a note hanging on the bulletin board on my door.

I’ll be back.

-Mavis

I’ll be back?  In a few minutes? An hour? Tomorrow?  He didn’t seem happy with our conversation before he left.  I go into my room and look around the small space.  Really how could Davis possibly be thrilled about spending nights here?
It isn’t very roomy.  Are we on the verge of our first squabble?  Great. After less than a week together. 

I decide to change into something comfortable, check my class schedule
for tomorrow, and then if I haven’t heard from Davis, give him a call.  I feel a little more relaxed after taking off the clothes I’ve worn (off and on) for four days and putting on clean lounge pants and a soft hoodie. 

My schedule
for spring semester is lying on my desk, right where I left it.  Only four classes this semester:  Acting, Private Voice, Jazz Dance, and the class I am looking forward to the most, Production.  It’s a class that will give us insight into producing in different medias and venues; theatre, TV, radio, film and special events.  I enjoyed associate producing last semester.  Seeing something come together, watching all the components merge to achieve the final product, is exhilarating. Even the small contribution I made to producing so far was very rewarding. 

After an hour and a half, I am surprised Davis hasn’t returned or called yet.  I look for my phone to send him a text.  I can’t find it.  It’s not in my purse…
or my jacket pockets… Hmm… no wonder I haven’t heard from him… or Jules for that matter. I have a landline in my room.  All the RAs do.  The problem is, I don’t know Davis’ phone number.  I generally just use the contact list in my cell phone to call everyone.  Where could my phone be?  I recall checking it right before I left Davis’ condo.  Maybe it’s there.  I catch myself feeling on edge, wondering where Davis is.  I try to shake it off as silly.  He’s fine, I’m sure.  I have become surprisingly attached to his presence at all times in only a few days.  Now, only after a couple of hours I feel a bit empty.  I miss him.  This could be problematic. We can’t be together all the time.  We have school and jobs and if we are going to make this work we have to be independent people.  I look at the clock again.  I have been pondering and well, yes, moping, for about three hours.  Time to do something constructive.  I get up from my desk and look in my mini fridge for a snack.  The pancakes were filling, but I am starting to feel hungry, since the pancakes were brunch and it’s getting late in the afternoon.  Grabbing some yogurt and a spoon, I return to my desk.  Since I don’t know where my phone is, I decide to call it.  Perhaps if it is at Davis’, he’s picked it up. 

I hear my own ringtone with each dial tone on my landli
ne.  There’s a ringing in the hallway and it sounds like my phone.  I get up and open my door.  My cell is lying on the floor, ringing.  There is a neon green post-it on it that reads, “MISSING SOMETHING?”  I pick up the phone with the note attached, look both ways down the hallway, and seeing nobody around, step backward into my room.  I hang up the landline and my cell phone stops ringing.  Almost immediately my phone chirps a text alert.  It’s from Davis.

You should be careful where you leave your cell phone. 

I am just about to text back asking where he is, when another text comes through.

I’m downstairs.  Leave your door open.

He’s back.  I am more gleeful than is probably necessary.  I don’t think we’re having a squabble after all.  I actually sort of spin around in my tiny room in anticipation of his return.  So excited, I can’t make myself settle.  I don’t know where to be when he gets here.  I decide to act calm, so I sit back at my desk and check whatever messages I’ve missed on my cell phone, while I wait for him.  If I act calm, maybe I’ll appear calm.

Checking the missed messages, I see
I have several texts from Davis from this afternoon asking me to text him back or call him.  They are from a little after the time he left, so I guess when he found my cell phone at his place he stopped calling.  There are a couple of calls from my landline from when I called myself and one text from Jules asking if I was back at the dorms yet.

Hearing the door to my room swing open, I lo
ok up from my seat at the desk.  I see Davis and my friend and Jules’ guy, Charlie, grinning back at me over the threshold.

“Well, Hello, Charlie Boxwood.”  I love calling him by his full name.

“Hey, Biz…Look what I found in the lobby.” Charlie teases and indicates Davis.  “He was all alone and he doesn’t have a collar, so I brought him home….Can we keep him???”  Oh, okay the stray puppy bit.  I get it.  Davis gives me big, sad begging eyes.

“We
llllll, I don’t know.”

“Please, Biz.”  The begging commences.  Davis whimpers.  I am about to crack up laughing at this routine.

“Okay…He is sorta cute, but I think he’ll need a bath and a warm comfy bed.”  Davis now has his tongue out and is shaking his head up and down.  This is ridiculous. 

Charlie nudges him on the shoulder and tells him smarmily, “Lucky Dog.”

Needing to stop the goofiness, I say, “Oh my God, guys, knock it off…come on in.”

Shifting
gears, Charlie tells me, “I just gotta help Davis with one thing and then I gotta go, Biz.  Rehearsal.  Boxwood has another big gig.  I’ll tell you about it later.” Charlie’s band’s name is Boxwood, his last name.  I am proud to say I came up with it.  

Charlie and Davis move out of my doorway and around the corner.  I get out of my desk chair to see what they are up to.  I peek out of my door and see them coming toward me with a rather large, flat rectangular box.  Davis is also carrying a paper bag with handles. 

I ask, “What’s all this?”  Neither one of them answer.  They are talking to each other and  ignoring me.  On purpose, I think.

“On the wall across from the bed, I think”

“You think so?” Davis questions.

“Yeah, then you can either lie down and watch or sit up against the wall.”

“And it’s already set up?”

“Uh huh, all the rooms are.  Biz has just never used hers before.”  I don’t know what  they are talking about  and I would like to know what it is I’ve never used that Charlie knows I’ve never used.

I loudly question them both, “What are you talking about? And Charlie, what have I never used?”