Just Go (4 page)

We sit in silence in the back of the car the whole ride home. Something’s bothering her. She normally wouldn’t have called it a night so early, especially when we already had plans of going out after dinner. Between the two of us, she’s surprisingly the more socially active one. Sure, I have my fair share of nights out, but Gab used to go out every single night of the week. Leaving this early, before the party even starts, makes me think something’s really wrong with her.

We get back to our apartment and she silently heads straight to her room to change. I follow her in and sit on her bed, waiting for her to finish changing to try and talk to her. I’ve been best friends with Gab for years. Ever since we started college together. She’s always been the free love type of woman, never showing a care in the world of what people think of her exploits. I know she has a past she doesn’t like to talk about, so I’ve never pushed. She has her bad days, but mostly she’s a great person just trying to find herself. The fact that her mood tonight’s been all over the place kind of worries me, though.

“Hey, doll. You wanna talk?” I say gently as she moves towards her bed to lay down. Just a few hours ago she was ready to go out and party the night away. Now all she wants to do is go to sleep.

She sighs and rolls over in her bed to face me.

“I think it just hit me tonight, you know? We’re not in school anymore. We have all these responsibilities and shit. You’re gonna find a great job somewhere, and I’ll end up working at some firm I hate, making way too much money than I know is good for me. And for what?”

“What are you talking about, Gab?”

“I mean.... Everything just came on so fast. Everything’s changing, and I’m scared you'll leave me. Now with you pulling away tonight and not telling me everything about this man from last night, it’s starting. I can see it.”

I sigh and roll to my back staring up at the earth toned drapes she has hanging above her bed. She’s right. We share everything.

“I’m sorry, Gabby,” I whisper. I don’t want to tell her, but I feel like I have to.

“What’s wrong with you today, Annie? You don’t have one night stands, you don’t take random people home, and you always talk to me.”

“Don’t start sounding like the jealous best friend, Gab. I just can’t. I....”

“Was it him?”

“Who?”

“Mr. Chicago. That’s why you let him in the bathroom so easily tonight, isn’t it?” Her eyes light up waiting for my reaction.

“Uh....” I sit up, giving away too much shock from her question.

“I knew it! I knew it was him! Shit, Annie, you fucked Mr. Chicago!?!”  She jolts up in bed, suddenly wide awake and ready to talk.

“Gabby, stop, you have to—”

“You have to tell me everything!”

“Gab, are you sure you’re okay? You just went from super sad to super animated in no time flat.” Her weird behavior is worrying me. I know her mom has a history of mood swings. I think she said at one time she was bi-polar, but I can’t remember now. All I know is that I’ve now seen three different sides of Gabby in the last hour and that’s a lot of dramatic swings.

“I’m fine, bitch. Now spill.” Her eyes are pleading with mine and I sigh.

“You can’t tell anyone, Gab. If word got back to my dad, I’d be dead. Jesus, I was so drunk. He was so amazing. But then tonight, when he followed me into the bathroom? Total ass. Completely self-absorbed, only worried about throwing his money around,” I sigh and roll to my side to face her. “It kind of sucks. He was so freaking good in bed. But then he had to open his mouth.”

She laughs and shakes her head at me.

“My Annie. A notch on Mr. Chicago’s beaten and battered headboard,” she says grinning, as she slaps my leg. “I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me!”

“I couldn’t! I didn’t even know who the guy from last night was until it all clicked at the restaurant tonight. And no, we didn’t do it in the bathroom. He fed me some line about his penthouse and the mood was immediately killed.”

She starts to laugh, then continues on her mad questioning skills. We spend all night dishing about the most eligible bachelor in the city of Chicago. It’s great just getting to spend time with her. This last semester has been so busy for both of us that we haven’t had bonding time like this in months.

“I’m glad we came home tonight instead of going out,” I tell her honestly.

“Me too. I missed you, bitch.” She then continues to push me completely out of her bed, leaving me laughing on the floor at her insane antics. “Now get out. I meant what I said about my beauty sleep. Some of us don’t get it as naturally as you do.”

“Funny. Night, ho. Love ya,” I smile and laugh as I start to walk out of her room.

“Love ya, bitch.” She smiles and closes her eyes.

Heading back to my room, I grab my phone on my way seeing a few missed calls and texts from the couple of hours I was away in Gabby’s room. Jesus, who needs me this badly? And why didn’t they just call Gabby? Everyone who knows us knows we live together.

The first one I open is from my mom, asking about dinner this weekend. I text her back that I’ll be there and make a mental note to freshen up the color of my hair and nails before meeting with her. She’s always been so judgmental. I don’t want to give her any more reasons to pick at me.

The next messages are all from the same number, and it’s one I don’t have saved in my phone.

-It was wonderful seeing you tonight, Annaliese.

-I meant what I said about you.

-Are you ignoring me?

-Come to me. Tonight. 555 E. Bellmont. –AC

What the hell? AC.... Adam Callahan? No... he couldn’t have my number. I never exchanged it with him. Even if he did, he isn’t crazy enough to chase down someone like me when he has plenty of other women falling at his feet. Especially when someone like me made it very clear she doesn’t play games with someone like him.

There’s a missed call from his number, too. Looks like it came through in the middle of his texts, right before he sends me the one asking if I was ignoring him. I’m smiling, not because he’s paying attention to me, but because he honestly thinks he can throw his money in my face and it’ll make me fall to his feet.

Sorry, think again buddy.

I turn my phone on silent and plug it in, setting it on my nightstand and lay down in bed. As soon as I hit the sheets, I curse to myself, remembering I completely forgot to change into my pajamas and now I’m way too lazy to get up and do so. Instead I lay there and awkwardly strip off every layer—panties and all. I toss my clothes on the floor, spent, and decide it probably would have been easier had I just gotten up. Hindsight’s twenty/twenty, right?

I slide under my satin sheets and roll into my pillows. I momentarily forget that Adam was here last night, sleeping on my pillow, until I take a breath in and his scent fills my nose and assaults my senses. How can one scent get me so horny? One scent from a man I’ve only met a little over a day ago. One scent, and I’m a goner.

Lying in bed, completely naked, my thoughts drift back to the night before. The night I spent screwing Adam Callahan in this bed. On our counter in the kitchen. It was just a day ago but it feels like forever since he had me. My hand slides down between my legs and I let out a sigh as my fingers find my already wet slit. Pushing a finger inside, I pull it out and wet my clit, rubbing and pressing slowly in small circles. My other hand moves to my nipples and pinches softly and I groan as I feel my orgasm building. I close my eyes picturing Adam on top of me last night, pushing into me with all of his hard length. My fingers abandon my nipples and I reach into my nightstand to grab my vibrator. Pushing it inside me and turning it on, I thrust it slowly until my orgasm is close enough to reach, then pull it out and press it onto my clit, immediately sending me into one of the best vibrator-induced orgasms I’ve ever had. My fingers and toes go numb and my legs are still tingling when I let the vibrator fall to the bed and close my eyes. I tried my hardest, but I still can’t get last night’s memories out of my mind.

I fall asleep, still utterly unsatisfied, breathing in his scent with every breath. Before I fall asleep, I hear my phone buzzing on my nightstand, but I’m so tired I choose to ignore it until tomorrow. I know it has to be him. And he can wait.

***

It’s nine in the morning before I finally roll out of bed, but I’ve already been awake for hours. The daunting task of more applications to be filled out for a teaching positions is ahead of me today, and I’m really not looking forward to it. So far I’ve filled out about twenty and have yet to hear back from anyone. I realize many schools don’t hire until a week or two before school starts, but I’m holding hope still that I’ll be one of the lucky ones chosen before crunch time. I’m also still waiting to hear back from my certification test I took, since finding a position means nothing if I didn’t pass the test. The nerves running through me are normal for any person in my position.

What’s not normal is the added pressure of responding to Adam. Mr. Chicago. I hate that nickname but the first time a local news-anchor called him that in an interview, the name stuck and now it’s used everywhere. I don’t even know what’s so important about him. Sure, he has a ton of money, but so do my parents, so do many people, and they don’t get the publicity he does. Maybe it’s because he has such a scandalous life. Whatever it is, it’s added a pressure to my nerves that I can’t stand. So much so, I’ve been lying awake for hours, unable to sleep with his scent on my pillow.

Frustrated, I finally get up and first thing I do is rip the pillow cases and sheets off the bed. I’m not doing this song and dance every night with my feelings. I don’t need someone like him in my life. I need to stop thinking about him and obsessing over him.

I need to, but I can’t.

So I do everything else I can around the apartment to keep my mind off of him—dusting our bookshelves and the fireplace mantle, vacuuming, mopping, laundry, and dishes. By noon the entire place is spotless and smells amazing. And I’ve not turned in a single application.

“Shit.” I sigh and throw my cleaning supplies back in the closet.

I’m starving, and I need to go to the grocery store. It's never good to shop for food when hungry though so I grab my purse and head down the street to the deli. While riding the elevator, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I remember it’s been on silent all day. Pulling it out, I see his number calling me again and let it go to voicemail. He’s relentless in this pursuit of me. The trouble is, the more he pushes, the more he wears me down. Turning off my phone, I waltz out into the Chicago sun to grab some lunch before an afternoon full of interview questionnaires and applications.

I won't let myself get distracted with delicious thoughts of Adam Callahan.

Or so I’m going to tell myself.

I grab lunch and walk home the long way, going about three blocks out of the way before landing back in front of my apartment. I really do love Chicago. Sure, it’s not as glamorous as New York or as hip as California, but it’s a taste all its own. The skyscrapers, the busy streets. I love it all, I just wish it loved me back sometimes. I’d really love it if it loved me enough to get me a local job. Moving isn’t something I’m looking to do, but I might not have an option.

“Gabby, you home?” I call out as I walk into our apartment and close the door, hanging my purse on the hook by the door.

I kick my shoes off and walk to her room to see if she’s home yet from her interviews. Normally when she’s home there’s some sort of noise; music or moaning most of the time, and both at the same time. Today the apartment is eerily silent. She probably isn’t home yet, but she only had a couple morning interviews. Nothing should have kept her this long.

Her door is open and I let myself in to see her sitting at her desk with her phone to her ear. One leg tucked under her, the other bobbing gently up and down. She’s excited about something and trying to hold it in. I throw myself on the bed to get her attention and she jumps spinning to glare at me while addressing the person on the other line.

“Sure. Yes, that’s great. Thank you,” she smiles at me and raises her eyebrows. “Sounds good. See you then. Thanks again.”

Hanging up the phone and setting it gently on the desk, she closes her eyes and takes a huge breath before opening them. Any time she’s so excited she can’t function without screaming she does this. There’s been a few times when she didn’t do it and went into a screaming fit of how excited she was. That was the first time we had security called on us, so ever since then she’s been really good about reigning in her excitement before talking. I sit and wait for her to look at me, and when she does, her eyes are glowing with excitement and I can’t help but smile at her. She did it. She nailed a job.

“So do I even need to ask how today went?” I ask smiling, waiting for her to tell me everything like she always does. I can’t help but feel a ping of jealousy at her finding her career a day after finishing school, but she’s been at this for about three years longer than I have, so it’s about time she gets started with her life.

“I just got one of the best jobs in the city, Ann! Clayton and Moll!! Me! Working at Clayton and Moll!” she squeals and pulls me into a bear hug on the bed, tackling me and ending in a ball of laughter. “Holy shit, Annie!” She’s still laughing, and smiling, and so happy I just want to keep hugging her, and at the same time go hide in the corner and cry because my life isn’t anywhere near being as put together as hers is.