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Double Fated (Book One), Page 3

C.K. Mullinax


  Chapter Three

  Somehow, Zander’s essence healed the piercing holes, instantly. The tattoo was a different story. Although I knew R-daddy could take the sting away if I wanted to take a quick detour to see him at his home called Sunridge, I sort of welcomed the uncomfortable reminder.

  After I promised to eat meals and take care of myself every day, g-mom and grandma took me home. Although the sun was already rising, it was still too soon to see them go. But, I had plastered on a smile for their benefit and managed to keep my tears at bay. They waved before heading back to Terria Tarrish to continue with their outing.

  My plan was to immerse myself in homebound sorority activities. Typically, makeovers and gossiping with my pledge-sisters helps me to mentally escape. But somehow I forgot that my sisters believe I am heartbroken over Lyle breaking off our relationship. I don’t want to share the honest account of what happened. So my mental vacation was a bust…

  After narrowly dodging the eighth relationship break-up question, someone knocked on our door. I thought, “Hooray, my salvation!” But, deliverance was not waiting on the other side.

  “So, it’d be nice if you actually cancelled somehow, instead of leaving me sitting at the Den waiting and wondering…” Lyle announced to me as my sisters watched on in starry-eyed fascination.

  “Oh no! I’m not cancelling…wasn’t going to. I mean…my phone’s in my room…I swear I set a reminder. Sorry, it’s behind a closed door where I can’t hear it. Wait, I’ll get dressed and we can still go. If you can and still want to, that is.

  “I’ve gotta get this wet polish off. Don’t…I mean, why don’t you come upstairs…no, not that! I’ll just be right back. Are we taking yours or mine or each their own…vehicles, I mean?” I rambled, insanely.

  Distressed, I can’t let my sisters question him. Who knows what Lyle will say? And, what fallout I will receive, if they discover I was the one breaking off our relationship.

  “Go…wait for me in the car…I’ll only be a minute!” I demanded, without hanging around to hear his answer.

  Sure enough, I entered my room and heard my iPhone beeping into infinity.

  My polish was smeared. My outfit didn’t match. But, as promised, one minute later I jumped in his car.

  “That has to be some type of sorority record…” he sarcastically declared.

  “Sorry again…” I replied, ignoring his tone.

  “Listen, I’ve been thinking…” he started, but I interrupted him.

  “Hold that thought…this first,” I said, opening my cosmetics’ bag.

  I busied myself meticulously applying make-up. Lyle turned up the music, obviously aggravated. By the time we walked into the Java Den, I had blown a pound of make-up and couldn’t avoid the inevitable any longer.

  “So, what’s on your mind?” I questioned him.

  “We should get back together…” Lyle bluntly replied and I burnt my tongue on my coffee.

  “Ouch…that’s hot!” I exclaimed.

  “I’m not good, talking about relationship crap and feelings. But, I’m…” he stated and once again, I stopped him.

  “Lyle, you don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this…”

  “There’s no ‘we’ to ‘us’, at the moment. That needs to change…”

  “There’s always going to be a ‘we’ to ‘us’, because we spent over a year together. We’re just in different places…”

  “If you say, ‘It’s me and not you…’ I swear I’ll…”

  “Save it…I wasn’t going to say that. It’s me and you. Don’t you get it?? You’ve been prepared, since day one, to take our relationship to a sexual level. I’m still not ready.

  “You deserve to get what you want. You and I were spending time like it’s some unending luxury. My g-mom always taught me to appreciate the value in a minute. I’m not ready to give you what you want. I care enough about you to let you go find it…” I explained.

  “Sex is a natural expression of our feelings. You make it sound like I wanna meaningless one-nighter…” Lyle said.

  The conversation then, turned from getting back together, into all the reasons I should have been willing to demonstrate my emotions by having sex with him. I argued it out, repeating the same rationales in different ways. Lyle was equally tenacious, challenging me to try it “just once” and see what I’m missing. That’s precisely how I found myself unwittingly caught in the same old trap.

  My coffee was cold and I was steaming by the time I realized what had just happened. Lyle sucked me back into…same argument…same justifications…same rationalizations…same pain being felt on both sides.

  This is the reason I broke things off with him. We can’t agree on this topic and debating is futile. Evidently, Lyle is determined to make me see things his way. He continued his whispered argument, even when I stopped talking.

  In my silence, I realized something ironic. He and I are debating two very different things. I’m giving him my rationales for why we shouldn’t be together and he is telling me why we (as a couple) should have sex. Relationships are supposed to be all about compromise, support and acceptance. It was clear that both of us expected the other to change when we were dating. The truth hit me like two tons of bricks.

  Lyle still hasn’t noticed the fact that I have stopped debating. He is diligently presenting his case on why making love completes us as a couple. And, the real truth is revealed…

  I don’t have any way to convince him…of anything. In his mind, we are back together.

  Lyle hasn’t heard a single word I have said, today. More amazingly, I discovered that he has never listened to me during our entire relationship. I am nothing more than a prop to him…cheerleader arm-candy.

  Seeing my grandma and g-mom last night must have given me a fresh perspective on life. I can repeat myself a hundred times over, but Lyle only hears what he wants to hear.

  His arguments never include my happiness, unless those are in reference to being with him. He never mentions my personal goals, dreams or aspirations beyond how I will occupy myself while he travels during his NFL career. He has never even asked me a question or inquired about any opinion I might have.

  Content enough to marvel at my newfound insights, I listened to him reveal his true heart in fascination. But, then I started playing the ‘what if…’ game in my mind. Considering the choices I could have made instead of the ones I actually did make, I decided this conversation is over.

  “Lyle, your looming, big NFL career is a lot of…well, everything. You know me, right? So, you know what’s happening…all of this, is going on for you…” I bullied my way into the conversation, spoke gypsy nonsense and fell silent.

  He looked at me in confusion and I bit my scalded tongue to remain silent.

  Tray and Willow had both given me this same piece of advice. When all else fails, offer a person something cryptic on a topic they care about and wait for them to figure out how to respond. Lyle spent the afternoon talking about himself. So, I obliged his interest by selecting his favorite subject.

  Then, a miracle occurred, he heard me. He had to interpret the meaning based on his perceptions, but he did hear something.

  “Oh my baby-doll, I wasn’t planning on leaving you. So, that’s what’s been weighing on your pretty mind. My football career will take me all over the country, but don’t sweat it. We’ll figure out something to keep you occupied. But, it won’t be cheering for a professional team. Don’t get me wrong; you’ve got mad skills. You’ll just be too busy hosting dinner parties for my teammates and coaches…” he offered, comfortingly.

  “Those are some points. Sure wish we had more time to talk this over, but my shift’s getting ready to start. Let’s table this until next time…” I stated.

  Lyle hugged and reassured me, once more, that he isn’t planning on leaving me – ever. He evidently feels obligated to comfort me further by hanging out and
proving his words.

  Cringing, I smiled over my shoulder and ducked under the counter. My coworker looked at me in astonishment. I’m not on the schedule today. Price followed me into the backroom while I grabbed an apron.

  “Hey lady, what’s up?” Price inquired, sheepishly.

  “Ssshhh…keep your voice down,” I demanded.

  “Ah, I get it! You’re relieving me of duty, involuntarily…jock avoidance tactic…extra sweet! Mel and I both thank you. I haven’t started my side work, yet. Lock up when you leave,” he stated, intuitively.

  “Tell Melissa I said, “There’s plenty of hard-working fish in the sea. And, you’re welcome…”” I replied, sarcastically.

  Price is always looking to clock-out early. But, his comment about not completing his side work was pointless and comical. Even on nights he closes alone, he never does the clean-up or morning preps. Being the owner’s son has its perks…

  The second Price saw me walk in with my ex, he started getting excited. He is astute enough to see the handwriting on the wall. Guys can read other guys, too. So, he knew right where mine and Lyle’s ‘relationship conversation’ was headed. He figured I would get trapped and be looking for a quick, plausible escape.

  Lyle had settled in for the night. He was surfing the internet and intermittently, winking at me. Yep, we’re back together in his way of thinking. All he needs is my verbal approval…and that can come from my saying and/or doing practically anything. The pressure will only intensify when we’re in an enclosed vehicle.

  Formulating a plan, I sent several text messages and filled orders until they came crashing through the door. A large group of Lyle’s frat brothers found him, courtesy of me. I was strategically plotting how to worm my way out of riding home with him, when three of my sorority sisters unexpectedly, waltzed in – perfect.

  My sisters had casually appeared to snoop on me and Lyle. They took one look at the available clientele and forgot about my life, along with their meddlesome investigation. The frat boys complimented them and invited them over.

  “Hi Greek siblings, the first round’s on me…” I said and distributed cups to everyone at the table.

  I also laced each coffee with two shots of espresso, hoping to work some magic through caffeine overload. Twenty minutes later, brothers and sisters were all wired for sound and finding it impossible to sit still.

  “Hey Krista, we’re headed out to get some food. I’ll be back near closing…later, my Doll-babe,” he announced.

  So, I’ve gone from baby-doll to my Doll-babe…double gag!

  I did all the side work at breakneck speed and cleaned-up the instant people vacated their tables. My diabolical plan was to lock the door at precisely, 10:00 and bolt from the area on foot. I would call a cab after a safe distance. That way no one could tell Lyle I had planned to ditch him all along.

  Guilt started gnawing at me around 9:45. But, I managed to alleviate it by splitting hairs. Lyle didn’t expressly say he would be coming back to give me a ride home. He only said he was returning near closing time. Although I understood the implied meaning, he had no way to prove I got it – after all, doll-babes’ have pretty heads filled with air. So, with my rationalization formulated, I locked the door five minutes early and took off jogging/fleeing.

  I called a cab to meet me in a dark parking lot. The elderly driver gave me a polite lecture about hanging out at deserted places in the dead of night. He also drove the posted limit and Lyle always speeds everywhere he goes. I tried to keep my frustrations to myself as we crept along at ten miles per hour and I listened to him parent me from the front seat.

  Alright Creator, I get it! It’s dangerous to run around, alone at night. You can stop sending me messengers…

  The cab driver reluctantly dropped me off near the quad. I told him I was headed to the dorms to see a friend. I couldn’t risk him pulling up in front of my house and one of my sisters seeing me exit from a cab. There is nothing worse than a pack of girls on a mission. They would be chomping at the bit to discover why I didn’t call one of them for a ride. They might also assume Lyle ditched me and that would amount to a declaration of war.

  The driver suspiciously watched me until I was inside the building. Then, he waited around. I don’t know anyone in this dorm. Girls walking by provided me with puzzled stares. I must look like a criminal with my back pressed against the wall.

  “Just waiting on my ride…” I offered them my lame excuse.

  They gasped and took off like I had pulled a weapon.

  A full fifteen minutes later the cab finally left. That driver must be a father…

  I had intentionally shutdown my phone right after I called the cab. If Lyle can mentally assume we are back together, I can let him mentally assume my battery went dead. But, with so many messengers delivering warnings, I turned it back on as I headed for my house.

  The phone beeped and displayed I had missed several calls. I was fumbling around trying to erase the messages without having to listen to them, when I happened to notice Lyle’s car parked in front of my sorority.

  I reflexively pressed the power button on my phone as my heart jumped into my throat. I didn’t finish the process so the device was lit up like a beacon in the night. Then, as if I needed more problems, Lyle opened the driver’s side door.

  “Pipe down!” he yelled into the interior at his frat brothers jam-packed in his vehicle.

  He put his phone up to his ear.

  I had covered my screen with my hand, but I didn’t silence my ringer. The ring-back tone blared at a seemingly obnoxious level.

  I calculated the distance to the bushes…too far.

  The maintenance shed is a little closer and it has an unlocked window. Rushing toward my only option, I didn’t look back. Praying all the while that no one would notice my white striped shirt, I was kicking myself for not wearing black.

  The fabricated metal building amplified my ring tone. In desperation, I carelessly threw the iPhone and leaped inside. Tools went sailing, my phone shattered and I landed with a painful thud on the concrete floor.

  Although I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, I heard the guys running in my direction. Scrambling to crawl underneath a tool bench to hide, I realized I wasn’t alone in this building. I hesitated and squeaked in fear.

  “Quiet…” she whispered, urgently.

  Crouching in the world’s smallest, tightest space, I watched her slide her inflatable bed under a row of shelves and turn off her book light. Then, she became one with the shadows. If I hadn’t seen her hide with my own two eyes, I never would have known she was in here.

  Their voices are almost perceptible…

  “Your eyes reflect…close them,” she ordered, quietly.

  Complying with her directive, I steadied my breathing. I had been perilously close to getting caught many times with g-mom. So, I was no stranger to regaining my calm under pressure. But, I have never closed my eyes during this type of situation. I was struggling to remain blind to the future.

  “I saw something…” an unknown guy said.

  “Dude, you’re a burnout,” another guy offered.

  They pulled on the door and shoved against it when they discovered it was locked.

  “Seriously Dudes, I thought I saw something too…like a ghost…” yet another guy added.

  “Yeah, campus is haunted, Jeb. Wait, now I see it!” Lyle announced and I saw a beam of light flicker across my eyelids.

  I’m so busted…

  “What is it, man??” burnout guy asked.

  “It’s just tools…get off me! You and I aren’t havin’ a Hallmark moment…” Lyle said.

  They continued to sling barbs and shove each other around. I could hear their commotion.

  “I swear I saw something go through that window…” burnout told the others.

  I missed how the brothers replied because the girl started rustling around. I felt
her brush by me. Next, I heard a sound like metal on metal…then, silence from her.

  Judging by the position of the frat brothers’ voices, they had moved to the window I came in through. But evidently, something was now preventing them from entering.

  “It’s locked, Einstein…” one said.

  “You’re not a spirit…” someone else stated.

  “What are you doing with that rock??” Lyle shouted.

  The guy responded with something, but it was too muffled for me to hear.

  Once again, their commotion ensued before we heard a siren.

  Campus police had evidently arrived. The impulse to see my surroundings was overwhelming so I finally surrendered to it.

  The girl was crouching underneath the window with a chain in her hand. The hook on the other end was anchored to the bottom sill, simulating it being locked. Although she had her eyes closed tight, her breathing was rapid and shallow. As the officers approached the shed, she became more and more panicked. Her breaths were echoing.

  Realizing the trouble I had caused her made me feel horribly guilty. If anyone’s getting busted, it’s going to be me and not her. I slipped out of my hiding place and crawled over to her.

  “Go on…I’ve got this,” I whispered to her and took the chain from her hand.

  I could see how much she wanted to protest, but it’s not like she could argue with the police just on the other side of the thin wall.

  Lyle and his frat brothers continued making excuses and telling the officers that they saw an intruder enter the shed. The officers reminded them that they were holding a rock when they approached them. The words “arrest” and “detain” were spoken.

  While they were heatedly debating, I did the best I could to quietly move the debris into the shadows. By the time security shined the light inside, all they saw was an empty floor.

  “Seriously Dude, there’s someone in there! There was stuff everywhere a minute ago…” burnout revealed.

  “That’s Officer Morst…not “Dude”…” he declared before revealing his intent to place the cuffs on burnout.

  The frat brothers’ launched into a loud protest. So, the officer finally agreed to take a look if they agreed to shut up.

  Officer Morst tried key after key, but he couldn’t get the shed open. Audibly aggravated, I was praying he would simply give up. However, burnout boy planned to keep pestering the officer until he was vindicated.

  I stood up and moved into the center of the shed where I could be seen, easily. Formulating a strange excuse for my presence here, I started twirling my hair and waited on fate to take its course.

  The door creaked open…

  I would make a loud, puzzling scene and throw the officer off the scent of my B&E buddy.

  Officer Morst flipped the lights on…

  I squinted as the sudden illumination temporarily blinded me. My heart was pounding as I stood out in the open. Then, the door swiftly shut without anyone stepping foot inside.

  “Wait!” yelled Officer Plabel.

  “Halt right there! No one has permission to leave…” commanded Officer Morst before he took off in pursuit.

  The rest of the voices were a muffled mixture of emotions. They were quickly fading into the background. A new commotion was brewing beyond the tool shed. I was already prepared to get busted, so I ran over to the window and looked outside.

  The comical scene unfolded and I was laughing all the while.

  “What’s going on??” my B&E buddy whispered, urgently.

  “Come here. You’ve gotta see this…” I said, breathlessly.

  She walked tentatively in my direction and had to stifle her own giggles.

  “My sorority sisters were jeweling Victoria’s Secret undergarments before I left the house this afternoon. Obviously, they finished the project. Oh no, I think he just got blinded by flashlight beam to the bra…that’s gotta be a first,” I offered, winded from hysterics.

  “Yep, he’s shielding his eyes…blindness via bling…that’ll teach those Coppers. At least, their lingerie covers more than those string bikinis they sunbathe in…” she noticed.

  Although I am not a lip reader, I knew precisely what excuses the girls were offering. They would act surprised by the unexpected male company and tell them they were scared because they heard something. They undoubtedly recognized Lyle’s and Ellis’ cars and realized there were several frat boys trolling around somewhere close. My sorority sisters refuse to take a backseat to anyone – law enforcement or no.

  “Those two security officials are woefully outmatched. You think they’ll call for back-up?” she wondered, aloud.

  “Neen won’t give them a chance to radio in, anything. Notice her hand on her hip and the other on Officer M’s? That’s her signature move. We nicknamed it, “The Overture”. It has an efficacy rate of 95%…” I revealed.

  Originally, I thought an officer of the law might be among the ranks of the negligible 5%. But, he fell haplessly into Neen’s wily trap when she removed his badge and pinned it on her sparkling boy-shorts like a trophy.

  The frat brothers should have been grateful because they would be in hot water if my sisters hadn’t intervened. But, they were getting upstaged by the men in uniforms. Unaccustomed to being slighted, they started doing what frat guys do to get attention. They were getting loud and obnoxious. They were also reminding the officers of what they were doing before the sparkling sorority distraction occurred.

  “Grab your stuff and let’s get out of here…”

  “Oh, superb…there goes my four-star sleeping accommodations,” my B&E buddy commented while grabbing her personal belongings.

  I didn’t have time to apologize. The frat brothers were loud enough to comprehend what they were saying. I shoved her deflated mattress into the garbage can, before snatching my shattered cell phone from the floor.

  We can’t risk climbing out the unlocked window. Exiting through the door isn’t an option either. Using her book light, we managed to figure out how to unlatch the back window lock. We leaped through it, simultaneously and left it open when we took off running.

  Barely making it to the bushes, the officers entered the shed and quickly discovered the opened window. My buddy and I hit the ground like we were being shot at…we waited.

  “I think I see something…over there!” someone said as the officers’ flashlight beams spilled on us.

  We scrambled to our feet and bolted south.

  “Stop…can’t run…anymore,” she told me after a mile.

  She was completely winded.

  Although I knew we were still in jeopardy, I did as she ordered. I could hear male voices approaching. One of those definitely belongs to Lyle. Once again, I formulated a semi-plausible excuse.

  “This way!” burnout boy yelled and his brothers agreed.

  And, they led the security officers off in the wrong direction. Yay!!

  I just couldn’t resist the impulse as I started giggling. Those giggles quickly turned into hysterics. I don’t even know this stranger, but I had to stop myself from hugging her. This adventure/misadventure is exactly what I needed. It reminds me of good times in high school with Ember and several thousand escapades I’ve shared with my g-mom throughout my life. Strangely, I almost wish I had gotten busted. I’m really scared that all the predictability and law-abiding boredom I’ve experienced as of late will make me lose my edge.

  My new involuntary companion in crime didn’t share in my hilarity. I guess to her, our current situation looks more dire than comical. I have a home to go to and she was just displaced from hers.

  “Sorry…gimme a sec…” I told her, but she clearly wasn’t interested in accepting my apology.

  She huffed just once before walking away.

  “Really, wait, please stop! I’m truly sorry. You never would’ve gotten caught if I hadn’t brought you unwelcomed company. Let me try to make it up to you…” I offered and s
he stopped in her tracks.

  “How?”

  “We can go back to my place. I have a private suite in the house with my own bedroom and bath. You can stay overnight. We’ll figure something out in the morning…”

  She turned back towards me and she was standing under a street light. I recognize her. My B&E buddy is Audrey from the late night study group.

  “So, you’re suggesting a PJ party – seriously? I don’t own a pair of pajamas. And, you really think a shower’s gonna do the trick?? My wardrobe is unavailable until morning and I’m not interested in becoming your sorority bi-experiment…” she offered impatiently, spreading out her arms in exasperation.

  “I wasn’t suggesting…”

  “Don’t get your blinged-out undies in a twist. It’s called sarcasm. But, how exactly are we gonna explain our appearance to your snobby sisters? What were we doing, rebuilding an engine in our spare time?”

  We were both covered in grease and filth. Our clothes were ruined.

  Her sarcasm doesn’t bother me in the least. My brothers use it to alleviate stress. I have been known to use it on occasion myself, depending on how much pressure I am placed under.

  “I see your points. But, not all of my sorority cohorts are snobby. Let me make a quick call and ask for repayment of a favor…” I told her.

  Even if I could sneak us into my room, Audrey is taller than I am and she has a larger bone structure. I don’t have an outfit that will fit her. Although it is true, not all my sisters in the house are snobs, they are all die-hard fashion fanatics who are dedicated to their wardrobes. I can’t see any of them willingly sacrificing an outfit to a virtual stranger.

  Tess pulled up in her car fifteen minutes later. After she gave us the once over, we drove to our destination in silence. Tess is a friend and one of my cheerleaders (who I affectionately call my Cheer Babies). She owes me one. As the assistant manager at American Eagle Outfitters I knew she would have a key.

  “This makes us square, by the way…” Tess informed me as she turned on a few overhead lights so we could shop for clothing.

  “Deal, my Cheer Baby. I know you can’t ring our stuff up until morning. So, I’ll give you the cash and you can bring me the receipt at practice. Thanks for doing this…”

  “You two weren’t wrestling each other in motor oil were you C.B.C.?” Tess asked.

  “Oil’s too slippery…” Audrey revealed and glanced at me with an impish expression.

  “Yeah, it started out as Jell-O and things went awry. That’s the last time we’ll hit that club, ever…”

  Audrey’s levity made me feel a little better. It appears I might have inadvertently ruined her life just trying to avoid my ex’s ramblings about our make-believe future he’s concocted.

  There’s a story to why Audrey was living in the maintenance shed, but I might not ever discover it.

  When I first encountered my sister, Ember, she reminded me of a deer caught in the headlights of my oncoming car. She had misjudged my social scene because I appeared to be sitting alone in the cafeteria that day. I had many acquaintances in high school. And, I easily have, triple that number, in college at this point. Audrey has issued me that same terrified glance repeatedly, since my abrupt arrival into her world.

  It takes time and effort to get a scared deer to trust the driver of the near-miss car. I will have to somehow discover a quick way to make amends to Audrey. My sorority house has a very strict overnight guest policy. I can probably get away with letting her stay two or three nights, at most. Then, the witch hunt convenes and I am figuratively burned at the stake.

  I can’t lie and tell them she wants to pledge, because rush week is long over. Besides, most sarcasm has an underlying ripple of truth. I assume Audrey knows about me and my “snobby sisters” because she has watched our comings-and-goings at night from her window. She must have formulated an opinion based on the more active members and their nighttime antics. Given Audrey’s opinion, I doubt she would be willing to perpetrate a ruse, even if it means a warm bed and shower.

  Although I would be willing to rent her a room somewhere for the rest of this semester, I seriously doubt she would take me up on the offer. In fact, that move would likely backfire miserably.

  First, no one wants to be viewed as a charity case. And two, a large generous offer from a stranger typically comes with hidden strings. I don’t have any way to earn Audrey’s trust before the sunrise.

  “Alright Creator, I need some assistance. I want to make-up for accidentally hurting her…” I silently prayed while I shopped.