Love Out of Order (Indigo Love Spectrum) (11 page)

Suse always put things in the infidelity context when
it came to John. She asked me why I was even interested
in a guy who would cheat on his girlfriend. She asked if I wanted to be the next one cheated on. This from the
girl who had been cheated on three times (and counting,
Astoria and I always said when she wasn’t around) by her
“soul mate”. That was part of the reason I’d opened my
b
ig mouth too wide Saturday night in the parking lot
when I pissed her off.

I sat back in my chair. We were two of only a handful of people left in the dining hall. It was pretty late. There
were a few giggling undergrads scattered around at some
of the other tables, clad in variations on the same theme.
They wore sweats, pajama bottoms, Central Virginia
University hoodies and flip-flops. Dining hall workers had come out of the kitchen and were cleaning up in
hopes of giving us the hint to get moving. One of them
looked like she wanted to start prodding us out of the
door with her mop.

Astoria attempted to bring my attention back to the
conversation by obnoxiously clearing her throat.

“Astoria, there’s nothing I can say to change your mind. And there’s nothing you can say to change mine.
So can we please just talk about something else?” I said,
picking at my pasta again.

“Okay, well, if you’re not going to answer my ques
tion—”

“No—”

“Which means you’ve basically answered it, how are
things with Lindie?”

I groaned. The evil, horrible, snotty third year who
just knew she was running things at law review. I guess
technically, she did. She was editor-in-chief. A position
she had basically stolen from my friend, Melissa. No, not
a nice girl, that Lindie.

“Worse now that she’s gotten her offer for next year
from Harris and Brown.”

“
Hm. Well, I hope she gets deferred. Everybody else
is, anyway. That girl is nuts. You know she was arguing
with Jones in class Friday? Apparently, Jones is the faculty
advisor for some group she’s in and she took something
he did personally. So in class, she wanted to argue with
him about the First Amendment for, like, five minutes.
Until Jones finally told her very rudely they would have
to continue the conversation after class.” Astoria’s eyes lit
up as she relayed her story. Astoria loved gossip even
more than she loved to be self-righteous.

“Really? I know Jones was pissed,” I said, happy to be
off the subject of John.

I was having enough trouble with John on my own
without the different preachings and teachings of Astoria
and Suse. The little things kept me wondering about his
real feelings for me. Like the way he had found some
thing to call me for at least three times a week every since
that first meeting at Barnes & Noble. Yes, I had been
keeping count. Of course, he’d stopped calling even
before the party and the rooftop disaster. But I still could
not get John Archer out of my head. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t help it.

And it was infuriating how he kept giving me hope. But
I also couldn’t imagine how I would have felt if he had
stopped. Even though he had a gorgeous girlfriend, his par
ents were loaded, and he was the frat boy antithesis of any guy I could ever see myself with, I couldn’t stop thinking about how great it would have been if we were together.

After Astoria and I finished our meal, I decided to
walk home even though her car was right there in the
d
ining hall parking lot. I really did want the time to
think, but Astoria was right, even though I denied it
vehemently. I hadn’t wanted to spend any more time
around her after our dinner conversation.

I thought that maybe the fresh, crisp air would help
me clear my head a little. Or at least give me something different to think about. The air was a little too crisp. The
cold was biting through my thin coat. I picked up my
pace, shivering.

I walked past the strip of shops and restaurants
between campus and my apartment complex. I looked at
the storefronts under the lonely, bright streetlights. A few
joggers passed by; some in running tights and shorts and
some in track pants. I narrowed my eyes at their backs.
They were making me feel bad, remembering my fatty,
cheesy pasta. And considering I was about to catch fire just from a brisk walk home. I hadn’t been to the gym in
a while.

As I reached the entrance to my apartment complex,
my phone vibrated against my hip. I took it out of the
belt clip. It stopped vibrating before I could even read the
caller ID. I stopped dead in the middle of the street. A middle-aged lady huffed angrily and stomped around me
and continued down the street. I rolled my eyes, thinking
it was her fault for walking so close.

My heart jumped as I checked the name on my missed
call. John had tried to call me. I called his number back
without even thinking. My heart pounded as the phone rang. And it sank down to my feet when his voice mail came on. That boy was trying to give me heart failure.

“
He’s crazy and he’s driving me crazy,” I muttered
under my breath. I shoved my phone back into its holder.
I needed to leave him alone. I hoped I could find the
strength to do that.

LAPTOP SNOOPING

I couldn’t concentrate on the article I was supposed to
be reading on tort liability. The law review office was the
last place in the world I wanted to be. I couldn’t stand
myself. Every thought in my head turned to John.
Obsession. Damn. Not again. I had been down this road
before and it had almost cost me everything.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how angry and sad he’d
made me on that rooftop. Then there was the simple
message I’d read on his computer screen. He hadn’t
closed his Gchat message box before wandering away from his computer one day in the library. Walking past,
I hadn’t been able to resist taking a peek. He’d been chat
ting with Ral and one of the last messages from John
read: I thought I knew. I know what I should want.

I looked around and no one was watching. I sat down
at John’s carrel and scrolled up the Gchat screen. John’s
previous message read: Sasha’s the one for me, right? She
just fits. And you don’t just date someone for three years and decide it’s not working. By three years, you should
know. And his message before that: I’ve been attracted to
other girls since Sasha and I started dating, but it doesn’t
last and I’ve never acted on it. Never really had any desire
t
o. Until now. The way I feel around her. I’ve never felt
this for Sasha or—anyone else.

Someone walked past and my guilty conscience made
me jump. I’d gotten up and walked out of the library, my
brain on fire. I forgot what I’d even come in there for.

As I sat in the law review office, a full week after
karaoke and the trouble it had caused, staring at that
journal article, those two memories kept me from
retaining a single word I read.

I looked at my laptop screen, relieved, as an instant
message box popped up. I grinned. Astoria. She knew I was supposed to be working on law review crap.

What’s up
? I typed back.

I’m bored. Blow off your law review stuff,
she typed back.
Can’t. But what do you have in mind?
I typed. I was
already mentally halfway out of that office.

I dunno. That movie we wanted to see is at the Byrd,
she
typed.

I sighed.
If we go to the later show. But I really have to
get something done
. I compromised with myself. Maybe
the promise of a night out would motivate me. And I did
need to be around people. I had gotten into my nobody
likes-me-so-I’ll-keep-to-myself danger zone thanks to
Mr. Archer.

I’m holding you to that
.

Okay
, I typed back. I wasn’t backing out. I needed to
put John out of my mind.

What I didn’t need was for Astoria to bring Erich to the Byrd with her. I couldn’t hide my annoyance and I didn’t want to try.

“Denise, you remember Erich,” Astoria said.

How could I not when his name was every other
word out of her mouth? “Sure.” I didn’t crack a hint of a
smile. The only movement I made was to pull my scarf
tighter around my neck.

“Hi, Denise,” Erich said, smiling.

I felt kind of bad for him. He was a nice guy. He
didn’t need to get pulled into all this. But I was more mad
at Astoria than anything.

“The movie doesn’t start for a while. You said some
thing about coffee first on the phone a few minutes ago,”
Astoria said to me.

I shrugged. “Sure.” I tried to keep the venom out of
my voice, but I wasn’t sure I had succeeded from the look
that passed over Astoria’s face.

“Erich, can you grab us a table at that place down the
street?” Astoria asked.

Erich nodded, smiled a confused but polite smile,
and started off down the street.

Astoria turned to me and had the nerve to look at me like I had done something wrong. “I’m just trying to help
out here.”

“I don’t need your help with this,” I said, starting off
down the street after Erich.

Astoria put a restraining hand on my shoulder. I
looked at the hand and then up at her, and repeated these
actions, looking at her like she was crazy.

“What you got for this white boy—”

“John.”

“Whatever, it ain’t healthy—”

“And I don’t have anything for him now—”

“Yeah, right, you can’t keep your eyes off him in
Evidence.”

“And when did I become so pathetic you feel like you
have to pimp me out to Erich?”

“I’m doing this because I’m tired of seeing you upset.
I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

“No. You just want to act like you know what’s best
for me. And you don’t. You know I’m not interested in
him.”

“I know you’ve never even considered giving him a
chance.”

“And that’s my choice.”

“Fine,” Astoria said, rolling her eyes.

I shook my head with frustration and headed down
the street toward the coffee shop. Astoria followed at a
distance.

Coffee was tense and awkward. The movie was
slightly better because no talking was expected. But it was
still uncomfortable to have Erich between us. The whole
time, I wanted to reach across, grab Astoria and scream at her to stay out of my love life. I couldn’t even concentrate on the story line. I don’t remember what the movie was
about now. It was funny how everybody else always thought they knew what was best for me. Especially
when those people couldn’t even get their own lives on
track.

After the movie, Erich couldn’t get away from us fast
enough. But he was polite about it. He gave us some
excuse about having a lot of reading to do and hurried off.

Astoria turned to face me. “Give me a ride home?”

I nodded, my eyes focused across the street. I couldn’t
leave her stranded.

We got to the car, got in, and pulled onto the road
before either of us said a thing. I took the long way back
to Astoria’s apartment. I knew we both wanted to talk
about it, but neither one of us wanted to be first.

Finally Astoria let out an exaggerated sigh. “Are we
really not grown enough to talk about this?”