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Authors: Kelly Hogan

Fall From Grace (9 page)

BOOK: Fall From Grace
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"What are you thinking right now?" he turns to face me head on, crossing his arms in front. I can't help but turn towards him too. He's like a magnet, his energy pulling me towards him.
     

"Oh you don't really want to know," I shuffle my feet and look down to avoid his gaze, crossing my arms in front as well. This is getting too intense for me.

"Try me."

I scan the room, trying to find the right words to explain myself. The last thing I want is to scare him away listening to the 'creepy girl with mommy issues'. I see Francine giving me the stink eye and Gabs is flirting overtly with gay bongo boy. Everyone else seems genuinely happy and enjoying themselves. Why could I never be like that? I've always felt lost, alone in this world, like I'm just not fitting into the puzzle. I can't believe I am telling a stranger this, but it comes out before I can stop myself.

"I'm thinking of my mother. She left when I was a baby and I was thinking how this is never how she would have looked at me," I gesture towards the print taking it in for a second time.

He pauses, looking back at the happy mom, and ponders my comment; probably thinking of a way to escape the clutches of Debbie Downer. He shocks the hell out of me when he turns back to look into my eyes with a piercing and soulful stare.

"Well Stella, sometimes things aren't always as they seem. People make choices and sometimes they are right and sometimes they are wrong. Maybe your Mother felt that leaving was her only option. Not an easy choice. You can never think it was easy."

Anxiously running his hands through his hair, it appears perhaps I've hit his own Achilles Heel. Where did that come from? What deep dark secret is HE hiding? I stare back into his eyes, trying to figure him out but I'm suddenly just soooo tired. Mr. Flu is definitely not done with me yet.

His comment makes me feel better though. I've never really made total peace with my mom's decisions but perhaps they weren't as black and white as I have always thought. Dad doesn't talk about it, and I really don't like to dwell on things I can't change. My heart is broken from someone I never even met.

I feel an overwhelming desire to just go home now and curl up in my warm bed with Harve. My trusty side-kick. Things have been shitty with Gabs, Francine is going to annihilate my reputation and now I feel the loss of my mother all over again. I must be pms-ing. I thought I dealt with this crap a long time ago. When did things get so complicated? I start to well up with tears trying to take a deep breath and shake off a very embarrassing meltdown.

 
"You really are a talented photographer Ash. Beautiful."
 

 
I fake a smile and glance around the room, forming my exit strategy. When I look back to him, he's intensely staring at me, his green eyes seem to hold me in a trance. It's like we're the only two people in this room. The hum of conversation and music is lost on me now. I can't possibly be imagining this. It almost feels like there is an electric current bouncing between us. It makes me shiver and I pull my hands up to rub away the chill on my arms.

 
"Thanks for sharing these with me. I'm gonna get going now. You have a good night."

 
I turn around to leave and feel a jolt of something go up my arm. Like I stuck my finger in a light socket and the currents are winding their way up my arm; my nerve endings standing at attention. I snap back to see Ash pulling his hand away from my arm like he grabbed a lit match. What the? He pulls back and appears breathless and confused. He rapidly averts his eyes from mine and turns so fast it looks like a blur. He mutters barely above a whisper. "Good Night Stella."

 
Still tingling from his touch, I bolt. I wave to a confused Gabs as I grab my coat and bag, I need to get home. I think finals must have gotten to me, I'm officially losing it.

Chapter 9
The Art Of Folding A T-Shirt

God why did I cry so much last night, I'm avoiding looking in the mirror at all costs, still lying in bed, twirling my hair into knotted strands. A habit I could never seem to break. I'm waiting until the last possible minute before I'll be late for work to drag myself out of my slumber cocoon. Ugh work. Kim called me this morning and asked me to fill in for Marla. Apparently, she had an accident at the Dairy Queen last night, slipped on a spilled blizzard or something. I dunno, my guess is that she probably lost her balance because her boobs make her so top heavy. Yes you're right, I'm jealous.

All I want to do today was stay home and sulk. I've replayed the events of last night a hundred times and I still don't know how I feel about it. I mean it's cool that I had my first real conversation with Ash, but it ended so weird and then I got so upset over my mother. That hasn't happened in a really long time, it took me by surprise. And what was that weird shock from Ash touching me? I'm sure I was just startled at being grabbed; a totally imagined weird cosmic reaction to him.

Finally I crawl out of bed, a long hot shower is definitely on the docket. The water is turned so hot it almost burns my skin, but it feels so amazing that I stay in extra long and now I'm sure I'm super late. I pull on my most comfy work clothes; leggings, a long tunic and a warm and cosy cardy as I start to feel almost human again. Maybe that flu finally made it's exit. Good riddance.

I mean I'm still a bit tired, but I'm actually feeling a lot better health-wise; maybe all I needed was a good cry and a full nights sleep. I didn't dream a thing last night which was a welcome reprieve. I slept so deeply, I barely heard my phone chirping from Kim. I glance at the clock and hustle into the bathroom for my 'conceal the fact you cried yourself to bed' make-up when I freeze in front of my full-length mirror. Staring at my reflection, I inch a little closer, not understanding who this person is looking back at me. I was expecting red swollen eyes, blotchy skin, maybe even a red and flakey nose - typical bawlfest outcome. No, this wasn't what I was expecting at all. I look different. Different from yesterday. Different from last night. Me still, but really not me.

You know when you're 15 and wake up on your 16
th
birthday and you think YAY! I'm old now and I'm finally going to get my boobs and no more pimples! Then you look in the mirror and you look exactly the same, maybe a little worse. Well that's what I first thought of, but the bizarro version of that scenario.
 

I actually look better some how. Almost like my hair grew a few more inches since last night and appears a little glossier and fuller. Plus, I am so not lying about this, but my boobs actually look a little bigger. I actually have cleavage popping out of my bra. Dad must have put it in the dryer. I think the crying messed up my eye balls or something. Maybe the flu bug altered my brain? Maybe I really
have
been taken by the Stepfords and made into a pretty fem-bot?! Suddenly my phone alarm pierces my ear drums, snapping me back to reality. Fem-bots? Really Stella? Knowing the alarm basically translates to 'leave the house now or you are going to get the shaft', I shake it off and book it to work.

As the day plugs on, I'm actually feeling the best I have in weeks. Kim keeps eyeballing me like I'm on meth or something as I haven't made one single eye roll AND I've been super nice to all the Soccer Moms to boot - a record for me!
 

Texting Gabs on my break, I apologized for last night and found out that indeed Bongo Boy is gay (sucks) but that thankfully I left when I did as Todd Winters showed up asking Gabs a whole bunch of questions about me. If I was seeing anyone, how I was feeling, if I was into Star Wars. Todd's a nice guy. Too nice really. The Star Wars comment was a little off base but I'm genuinely flattered. I have to think of a nice way to let him down easy. Perhaps if I tell him I prefer Star Trek he'll realize we aren't cosmically matched and move on.

Zoning out as I fold t-shirts and hash over my 'I really want to focus on school right now', or the 'I don't to ruin our friendship' speech, a familiar voice brings me back to the land of here and now.

"Either you're really into orderly t-shirts, or you've fallen into a standing coma due to boredom. Personally I hope it's the coma as the former is really too nerdy for me." Wheeling around, I almost smack Ash in the chin with my elbow before he jumps back in a super fast jolt and avoids the pummel.
       

"Holy Shit Ash, didn't your Mother ever teach you not to creep up on people and scare the bejezus out of them?" I stammer, holding my hand to my chest as if it will slow down the frantic hammering that's begun. "Good reflexes though, I'm impressed."

"Sorry Stella, I just thought staring at you any longer without speaking might make me look a little stalker-ish and tarnish my 'new guy' coolness."

"'New guy' coolness? Nah, the chicks are just desperate in this town. They'd take you on even if you had a few sister wives," I say with a smirk getting back some composure.

"Ouch. I guess my charms don't extend to you then Miss Grace. Too bad, I thought we would be dangerously
hot
together," he says with a wink and a devilish grin as my heart picks up in tempo again. I step back and grab my necklace, playing with the skull charm in a fidgety habit to re-gain control of my nerves.
 

"So what are you doing here then? Besides Stalking me that is."

Did I just make another joke? Am I shamelessly flirting with him? Yes. Yes I am.

"Hey now, there's definitely something to be said for stalkers; all that determination and focus takes drive. Even 'nerdy' old you would have to admit it's a little admirable."

"Har Har. Ok I get it. But to be fair, I get paid to fold these t-shirts and I happen to be very good at it, so there," I say crossing my arms in front as he hooks his fingers into his front jeans loops.

"So, do you want the honest answer or the non-stalker answer?" he replies.

"Both please."

"Ok, non-stalker is that I need some new clothes until the rest of mine get shipped here from New York. Stalker answer is that I just wanted to see how you were doing after last night."
 

"Oh. Um. Ya, I'm good. Uh thanks for asking," I pause, surprised over his openness. "I'm really not usually so bizarre, but I've been getting over this flu and it's beaten the crap out of me lately. Hormones in overdrive I guess." Mortified I mentioned hormones, I snap my mouth shut and stare down at my riveting feet. What is wrong with you Stella?

"I'm glad. I meant what I said too Stella. Whether her reasons for leaving you were well intended or selfish, you can never think it was an easy choice. Sometimes Shit happens and there is nothing you can do about it. Well, besides buy some expensive jeans - is that really what they cost?" he says gesturing to the rack beside us with a look of horror.

Grateful for the topic change, I push forward with trying to get him undressed.

"C'mon guy, they're True Religion! They make your butt look incredible. Isn't that worth a few hundred?"

"You think I need it?" he says with a glint in his eye. Is he actually flirting back?

Grabbing his shoulders and turning him around in a move I had no idea I was ballsy enough to pull off I say, "We all need a little help from time to time. You're ok, but I work on commission so yes, you need it." The heat rushes through his t-shirt and sends my fingers tingling. I pull my hands back and fold them in front to quell my shaking hands.

Craning his neck back to check his butt out, he laughs, "Alright, I'll try them on. But I'd better get a discount for all this harassment you know. Aren't you supposed to suck up to me and tell me I look devilishly handsome?"

"I think tough love is better, don't you? I mean, we wouldn't want you walking around like
this
any longer would we?" I say gesturing up and down his body.

Smiling as he turns back around and meets my gaze head on, we share a connected look and it's like last night at The Grind. Like we're the only two people in the store. That thrum of electricity is making me shake harder but this time I feel more powerful, like I'm controlling it, not the other way around. It feels incredible. I don't know how I was able to not stumble through this conversation so far, but I feel different today.
 

Guiding him to the men's section, we start picking up some very expensive things to try on - hey a girls got to make a living and from the look of him so far, I'd say he has expensive tastes even as he jests, and a very deep wallet. Our conversation flows easily and naturally. As intimidating as I initially thought he was, he's really not too bad. Kind of like when you LOVE a celebrity and you covet them forever; their movies, pictures in magazines, and you have little scenarios running in your head of how they would desperately fall in love with you the instant they met you. Then you see them in an interview and they sound super dumb and annoying bringing you back to reality as they lose that rock star status in your brain. Ash is far from annoying and stupid, but I realize he's just a boy and what have I got to lose? I feel a definite connection with him, whether it's one-sided or not.

Hauling armloads of potentials, we head back towards the change rooms. I unlock number 2 with my free right hand and enter first to hang them up. As I sort them on the pegs, I ask him about his photos.
 

"So are you thinking of doing photography full time in the fall?" I ask. When I get no reply, I turn around expecting him to be meandering around the belts, only to find him right behind me, blocking my entrance.

BOOK: Fall From Grace
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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