Feeling This (5 page)

***

“Jordan, hey, I’m going to leave with my
parents.” Susan’s voice sounds tired as I turn from talking to David and Brian.

I stand and take her into my arms. “Are you
sure? I thought we were going to finish that thing.” I tease with a smirk.

She smiles warmly and blinks, “Can I take a
rain check on that? I just need to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Of course baby, I’ll see you tomorrow,
okay?” I grasp her arms gently and kiss her softly.

She calls sweetly as she turns, “I love
you.”

“Love you too.”

She walks over to her parents and her dad
escorts her out putting his hand on the small of her back. He looks up and
meets my eyes as I stare over at them, glaring. He turns leading both his wife
and daughter toward the exit. I know her dad is going to fight me tooth and
nail on this. I watch them walk out the door and turn for the bar again.

David asks, “You okay Jordan?”

I nod but tell him, “I might need to catch
a ride tonight.”

“Of course man, if you need to talk about
anything.”

I walk away heading to the bar, needing
something strong. What do you do when the love of your life needs help
desperately but her father stands in the way?

Kimber

Light shines right into my face waking me
up. I open my eyes a slant and glare at the stupid blinds covering my window.
Why does it have to be the one blind that is missing, happens to be right smack
in the spot allowing the sun to shine directly in my face? I roll over, pulling
my blanket over my head, trying to get comfortable again.

 Not even ten minutes later as I am starting
to drift again, my mom’s scratchy voice yells out, “Kimber, are you gettin up?
Mrs. Bruin isn’t gonna pay you for time you aren’t there.”

I roll over cursing her. When is she gonna
leave me alone? Maybe she should go and get a job herself. I climb out of bed
and head straight for the shower. It makes me feel a little better letting my
sore muscles soak in the hot water. I cut it short though, too many things to
do today.

Entering my room, I check my phone for any
messages. Last night as I was leaving, Becca was waiting for Tyler, a first for
her, two nights in a row with the same guy. I told her to text me if she needed
to. I guess the honeymoon is still going strong. I give it maybe one more day,
tops. I throw on a purple tank and khaki mini-skirt, finally slipping into my
converse.

Once in the kitchen, I find my mom sitting
at the table as usual. It seems as though she hasn’t moved from last night.
Sitting in front of her is the ashtray, which is full once again and a small
glass of clear liquid. I don’t even want to go there. I know it’s vodka and
checking my watch, it’s only seven o’clock in the morning. I turn and bite my
tongue. She tries to drown her sorrows but only ends up creating grief for the
rest of us. Filling a glass with water and grabbing her pills, I shake out the
correct dosage and encourage her, “Momma, take your pills.”

She chuckles, “Why should I? You’d be
better off if I didn’t.”

Sighing out of frustration I tell her, “I
don’t want to do this with you Momma, just take them so I can get to Mrs.
Bruin’s. You said yourself, I don’t want to be late ‘cause I won’t get paid for
the time I’m not there.”

She glares up at me while placing the pills
in her mouth, ignoring the water and using the small glass to wash them down,
instead. I turn away annoyed and concentrate on making coffee. I need it if I’m
going to make it through the day. I pour it in a cup so I can take it with me.

On my way out, I call in the best singsong
voice I can muster, “Bye Momma, have a good day, I love you.”

No response, of course. I don’t bother with
the kiss today. She’s in one of her moods.

Luckily my car made it home last night with
no problems. Not that I would have had a ride otherwise. Jenna left with Derek,
reiterating that she didn’t want Momma to know she’s in town. They don’t
exactly see eye to eye. I don’t blame her, she’s getting worse and my sister
doesn’t handle things well. Derek and Jenna, oh boy, wonder how long that’ll
last.

My little Jetta makes it down the road and out
onto the highway towards the college. My mom doesn’t know that I don’t go
directly to Mrs. Bruin’s house on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I have two
classes in the morning before I go to the Bruin’s. Momma would have a conniption
if she knew I was taking classes, when I should be working.

 Mrs. Bruin offered to pay for my classes
but I refused. Instead she still pays me for the two hours I am not there. I
appreciate that family more than I can ever express. She took me in to help her
take care of house stuff saying she needed an extra hand. Really, I think she
just took pity on me knowing that my sister left and it was just me and Momma.
Whatever the reason, I thank the lord for her and Mr. Bruin each and every day.

The parking lot is filling up as I pull my
car into a spot three rows down from the building. I am attending Northeast
Community College right now. My first class is pre-calculus. It’s tough but I’m
handling it okay for not being a math person. My second class is my favorite
though, creative writing. I was lucky to get the classes back to back and only
three days a week. I’m not sure what I want to be ‘when I grow up’ but someday
it’ll be something different than a bartender.

I make my way to the double doors leading
into the building. My class is the first door on the right and it is a huge
one. The classroom is set up stadium style, I’m guessing to get as many
students in as possible, but for a math class? Front and center is where I
usually choose to sit but today it seems everyone got up early. There is
nothing available which forces me to climb up to the fourth row. I find a spot
between two other students.  Math is a little daunting so I usually keep to
myself.

***

As soon as class is over I gather my things
and lean over to load my backpack. Other students file down the steps and make
their exit with the exception of a pair of black boots not moving, standing
right next to me. Lifting my eyes to see who is standing there, my heart sinks
as realization hits me. The warm green eyes I know so well and the jet black
hair I’ve run my hands through so many times, I can’t count. It’s ‘the one that
got away’ and my heart stops at the sight of him. Looking away, embarrassed for
staring a moment too long, I shoulder my backpack and turn to walk down the row
opposite of him. His hand darts out and gently touches my shoulder to halt my
progress. My body stops of its own accord and stiffens, but I won’t let it turn
around, no matter how much it wants to betray me.

“Kimber?” His deep, smooth voice rolls out
my name, questioning me.

Why in the freak would he question me? He
knows it’s me, oh boy does he know it’s me. I’m curious as to why he’s here in
this shitty town when he couldn’t get out fast enough. But my pride is much too
strong to give him the chance. I push my shoulders back, stand taller than my
five foot five frame and continue on my way without a backwards glance. Once
out of the row, I climb down the steps as fast as I can and turn to make a
getaway for the door. Before I make it there, he’s hovering in front of me. As
much as I plead with my eyes not to do it, they look up and meet that gaze I
could never get enough of. As if I’m entranced, the rest of my body betrays me.
My feet stop and my shoulders sag as if completely defeated.
Damn him!

“Kimber, can we talk?”

I stare of course and can’t find any words
to respond. What an idiot. Instead my head nods and my feet force me to follow
him as he leads us out of the classroom door. His familiar scent trails behind
creating confusion and longing in my head. Why, oh why, can’t I handle myself
when he’s around?

Once we exit the doors, the warm Texas air
surrounds me and I’m able to think a little clearer. He hasn’t changed a bit.
Checking out his backside, I notice the muscles in his back I am very familiar
with, barely visible through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt and those
jeans that hug his very tight ass. Shit Kimber, stop checking him out.

I inhale the sweet air from the jasmine
blooming close by and focus on that smell instead as he turns to look down into
my eyes. There is something there that can only be described as sympathy and
suddenly I’m defensive.

“Andrew, what do you want?” This comes out
a little bit fiercer than I was planning.

“Kimber, just hear me out.” His voice is
just as firm as mine.

My defenses are up big time now. He left
right after senior year to go to college across the state. I didn’t want to try
and keep up with a long distance relationship so I broke it off. Later I heard
things about other girls, lots of other girls, and it just gave me more
security in my decision. But I always wondered if I did the wrong thing.

A small sigh escapes my lips, “Andrew, why
are you here? I heard you finished your degree. Why would you come back?”

He looks around as if gathering his words
and explains, “I’m working here at the college as a teaching assistant. Today I
was observing Dr. Jones so I could get a feel for his class and how he runs it.
I’m completing my masters so I can teach here.”

My heart sinks as soon as he finishes his
explanation. I’m embarrassed more than anything. This might be a class I need
to drop now. Can I crawl up under a rock and die?

“I just wanted to let you know why I am
here and in your class. I was hoping there wouldn’t be any weirdness between us.”
He pauses. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Too late for that now.
Oh my god he
looks so good
. It seemed that he always had a square jaw and a forever
five-o’clock shadow, but now he has grown into them. I’m definitely kicking
myself for letting this one get away.

I stutter after staring once again for an
awkward minute, “I uh…no weirdness, it’s fine.” I look away unable to meet his
gaze. I just want to go and cry.

Glancing down at my watch I tell him, “I
have to get to my other class, I’m already late.”

I don’t even bother to look up as I scurry
back toward the building. My next class is through this building and half-way
through the next. I can’t believe Andrew Perry, my high school boyfriend, and the
love of my life, is now a teacher in my class. That rock is looking mighty fine
right now.

Jordan

David drops me off at my apartment. I
barely make it through the door before collapsing onto the oversized couch. I
overdid it tonight with the liquor but hey, technically I got engaged and
celebrated the engagement of my good friend.

I don’t know how long I slept before repetitive
ringing wakes me up. My head is killing me. I roll over and find that I am on
the couch still fully clothed. I didn’t even take my shoes off. The ringing
continues as I glance around the ill-lighted room. I notice the sun is not
shining through the blinds. I roll over onto my back and check my watch still
under a wave of alcohol. It’s only 4:12 in the morning.  The ringing has
stopped but immediately starts back up again. I push myself up to a sitting
position. Quickly, I pick my phone up, suddenly concerned, wondering why
someone needs to get a hold of me this early in the morning. It stops ringing
before I can answer. The screen lights up with ten missed calls, all from my
mom’s number. I’m about to press her number to call her back but a firm knock
on the door interrupts me.