Changing Tunes (5 page)

I quietly close the door to the apartment, and I feel horrid, like I’ve just been punched in the gut. I felt fine until I walked in, and now I have this overwhelming need to apologize to Mac. It’s as if these living quarters make me feel guilt. Guilt is not something I’m used to feeling. I’m used to saying and doing whatever I want. I’m not used to feeling bad for my actions. I start towards my room and hear music coming out of Mac’s room, so I bite the proverbial bullet and lightly knock on her door.

I hear a quiet, “Come in.”

I open the door and see Mac in the corner of the room in a plush round chair. It’s the first time I’ve been in here and I take a moment to look around. It’s not what I expected. It’s actually more modern and less girly than I would’ve thought; more sophisticated, I should say. There’s a framed poster of a gymnast on the wall, which is the only thing sports related in the room. Her bedspread is done in browns and turquoise on a wood and iron bed with intricate leaves in between the slats; it’s gorgeous.

“Did you need something, Ashley?”

I don’t miss that she used my full name.  She’s not hateful, just curt. I’m not sure how to respond to this Mac.

I gingerly, and as delicately as I can, muster an apology; again, not something I’m used to doing. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know we’re just getting to know one another. You don’t know my circumstances, and I realize you were just asking…”

“It’s okay. I hit a nerve; I get it. Just do me a favor, will you?”

Favors scare me.

Quietly I respond, “Sure…”

“It’s nothing big, Ashley, so quit looking like I’m about to ask this huge, monumental favor.” Again, she’s not ugly, just matter of fact. “Next time you get upset with me, instead of leaving, will you please stay and talk, not run away?”

I must have this crazy look on my face. Really, this isn’t a strange request; it just shocks me. No one has ever asked this of me. Honestly, I’m not used to people wanting to talk to me. It seems like such a simple request, but to me, it’s not. It means something. The fact Mac is willing to talk to me, and to get to know me, is massive. It’s certainly not something I’m taking lightly.

“Yeah, I think I can do that.” I respond sincerely.

“Good,” she says. She pats the bed across from her. “Have a seat. Now, can I ask you something without you getting upset with me?”

I slowly nod my head. “Sure.”

Deep breaths, Ash, and don’t freak out. Shit, I just used Mac’s nickname for me.

“Why does your dad dictate what classes you’re taking?”

I look away as I begin to respond. “He has expectations of me. I’m expected to be like him and he wants me ‘well rounded’.”

I take a chance and glance back at Mac. There is no pity on her face, only sincerity.

“Okay, change of subject.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief.

I don’t wait for her to pick the subject, and ask “So what did you think of that Sean guy last night?”

She wrinkles her nose up, “He was cute, but had the personality of a split pea. I’m not stupid, I knew he was only interested in one thing.”

“Agreed, he was an ass. When I went looking for you, he’d already found a willing conquest. I don’t think you missed anything great.”

She sighs, “Yeah, I know. Truth is, I’m not ready to go there yet with just anyone.”

This peaks my curiosity; I got the distinct impression last night she was ready to ‘go there’ with someone. “Really? Do you have a boyfriend you forgot to mention? Hey, I won’t judge.”

“What?” She asks surprised. “No. I wouldn’t do that!”

“Then what is it?”

A sad look crosses her face, like she’s been transported to another time and place. Finally she says, “There was someone, but it didn’t work out. It turns out my feelings were a hell of a lot stronger than his. Some people aren’t who you think they are. You know what I mean?”

Her comment causes me to pause. Something about it rings true, but I quickly dismiss it.

“That sucks.” I reply honestly.

As if flipping a switch, she straightens and brightens. “How about tomorrow we go out to lunch at the campus diner and scope out the joint? I need to get over this damn guy and meet someone else; someone different.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” I reply.

I begin to get up, ready to head to my room when Mac leans over and hugs me. My arms stay stiff at my sides, and I don’t hug her back, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been hugged. Hugging doesn’t happen in my family, and hasn’t since—I refuse to remember the last time. I pull away and get up quickly before I show a tear or worse, any sign of weakness. “Tomorrow it is, see you in the morning,” I blurt out then leave, not waiting for a response.

Closing my door, I lean against it and let a single tear fall. I wipe it away and look down at it. I haven’t shed a tear in a long time, actually since that day, so long ago. Who knew it would take someone like Mac to make me feel something, to make me remember. Things from my past are being stirred up and I’m not sure why, but I hope and pray it stops.

I undress, throwing my pajamas on and climb into bed, thinking of the events of the day. Biting Mac’s head off, my conversation with Austin, wandering aimlessly through campus before deciding to go to the library. Of all the books to look at, it had to be my mom’s favorite author, and I chastise myself for even thinking about her. Let’s not forget the rude guy rushing through the library and bumping into me, although he certainly wasn’t bad on the eyes. Last but not least, the conversation with Mac and the hug that ended it. I’m still thrown and continue to think about our conversation and the fact she definitely wants a friendship with me, which floors me. I’m actually willing, and want to have a friendship with her. It doesn’t escape my notice that at the end of my reflections on the day, the image lingering in my mind is of a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

I wake feeling better than I have all weekend. I actually have something to look forward to. I haven’t felt like this in—I don’t think ever. I jump in the shower, getting ready for the day ahead and all the possibilities it has to offer. Walking into the kitchen, I spot Mac sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. She looks up with a smile on her face, “There’s coffee left.”

Grateful, I smile a genuine smile that hasn’t appeared on my face in I don’t know how long. “Thank you.” I pour myself a large cup, inhaling it, and I let the scent wash over me, upping my already good mood.

“You look happy this morning,” she says casually.

I guess she’s noticed my moods already.

“I guess I am.” I take a chance, telling her a little more about myself. “I’m not used to having girlfriends. Who am I kidding? I’m not used to having friend’s, period.”

She looks a little taken aback. “You’ve never had any friends?”

“I had a friend named Miranda through high school, but I’m not sure we were what you’d call true friends. We hung out every day at school, and sometimes on weekends.” I sigh, “She would have turned on me in a heartbeat, though.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mac replies. “You know, we’re going to change that. You and I, we are in this together, deal? A new place and a new start, none of the past to pull us down. We have each other to depend on, now. Let’s look at this as our do-over.”

Again, the girl has shocked me. For the first time, there’s someone who doesn’t see my faults and my past indiscretions. I’m starting new—a do-over. It makes me feel lighter somehow, and I know, without a doubt, this is a friendship worth pursuing and doing right. 

“What if I screw it up?” I ask, worried.

A serious expression on her face, Mac says, “You won’t. We’ll fuss each other out from time to time, I’m sure, but we will always have each other’s back. No matter what.”

I nibble on my lip when I’m deep in thought. Actually, it’s more like chew on it, and sometimes to the brink of blood. Now is no exception.

“Okay,” I say.

She brightens, “Okay. Well, let’s go check out the campus, and grab breakfast and more coffee. You never know, we may just find us a few hot guys.” She says with a wink.

I love a girl that loves coffee as much as I do.

The hall outside our apartment is busy. The other students are milling around everywhere. Some look as if they’ve known each other for a while; others look a bit lost. Absorbing the scene, I glance over at Mac, feeling grateful. Something I’ve never felt, or felt inclined to feel, towards anyone. As if knowing my thoughts, she turns to me, and smiles.

Mac locks the door and we make our way the end of the hallway, passing Austin as he leans against his door, talking to another guy. We hear, “Ladies,” as we walk by and can’t stop the giggle that escapes both our mouths.

“That guy is never gonna learn, is he?” I ask.

“He will, one day.” Unexpectedly, Mac continues, “When you’re with the right person, you are willing and capable of changing—when you love someone enough. He just hasn’t found the right person yet.”

I glance at her and see her deep in thought.

“Well, don’t tell his girlfriend, then. I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing that.” I say, jokingly.

Throwing her head back, she laughs, “No, I suppose she wouldn’t. He already knows though. Otherwise he wouldn’t be flirting like he does. He’ll know though, don’t worry.  It will hit him like a ton of bricks. Mark my words, he will, one day, be a changed man, and it will all be because of a certain girl;
the
girl.” She says with a twinkle in her eye.

I take in my surroundings when we reach the diner. It’s surreal to finally be at college and among so many different people. I notice some of the male populace turn their heads in our direction, checking Mac and I out. Mac has no clue how beautiful she is; she is completely oblivious to the attention. I, of course, always have an eye out. That’s how I scope out my next ‘victim’. I know I really shouldn’t call them that because they sure as shit enjoy it. But essentially, that’s what they are. I’m always on the lookout for a hot guy I can reel in for just a short amount of time. Love em’ and leave em’ is my motto. I can’t be hurt that way. I place my order, which will always and forever be, a caramel mocha latte.