Rule (9 page)

“I’m not taking that from you, I’m
not taking anything from you.  Leave me alone Gabe, I’m serious.”

“Look Shaw you can’t honestly
believe there can ever really be anything between you and that guy.  Your mom
told me you’ve been carrying a torch for him for years and that he’s never even
looked twice at you.  You’re just not his type, you’re too good for him and he
knows it.  Just give me another chance; we make so much sense together.”

I wanted to punch him but I just
let the ice that traveled through me at his words coat all the anger I felt
starting to build.

“No.”  I didn’t say anything else,
just ‘no’, because I didn’t need to explain myself or my feelings or the fact
that I knew most of what he said about Rule was true.  I wasn’t too good for
him, I was just too, ME for him to ever look at as anything other than how he
did and I had had to make peace with that years ago.  I took a few more
stumbling steps backwards and then turned on my heel and broke into a full on
jog to get away from him.  I think he called my name but I didn’t care I just
bolted.  He was starting to really freak me out and the fact that my own mother
was giving out the most intimate details of my life to him just made me wanna
vomit.  I couldn’t believe that a woman that didn’t even bother to make note of
when I was moving out of her house because college was starting noticed how I
felt about Rule when he was clueless and it just raked across my ego like razors. 
If Gabe didn’t knock it off I was going to have to look into changing my phone
number and possibly getting a restraining order against him.

When I got home the apartment was
empty so like a dork I made sure all the doors were double locked and that the
deadbolt on the front door was closed.  I hid out in my room and did homework
and wallowed in the self-pity that was threatening to drown me.  I didn’t
consider myself an overly outgoing or optimistic person; it came from years of
being over looked at home and socially awkward at school.  For a while Remy had
managed to pull my head out of the privileged shell I normally coward in and I
had thought for sure that when I left Brookside and went off to college I would
come into my own, only Remy had died and I was still trying so hard to be all
kinds of things to people that just didn’t seem to appreciate my efforts.  I
dressed nice and minded my p and q’s so that my parents wouldn’t totally forget
I existed.  I babysat Rule and put up with his awful behavior because I wanted
Margot and Dale to remember that he needed and deserve their love just as much
as Remy had.  I wore a ridiculous outfit to work and put up with silly girls
and drunk customers because Ayden deserved a solid roommate that she could rely
on and mostly I acted like interacting with Rule, watching him plow his way
through the greater population of young adult women of Denver didn’t bother me,
didn’t kill something side me and doing all those things day in and day out was
starting to turn the little bits that were really me into a shadow.

I knew the reason I had initially
agreed to go out with Gabe was because he in a very vague sense reminded me of
Rule.  He had dark hair, light eyes and while he was preppy and clean cut all
the way he still had a little bit of mischief in him that just got past my
normal reservations.  I had known within the first few dates there was no
spark, there never was because I was always looking for something, or rather
someone that wasn’t there, but Gabe was polite and comfortable until I hadn’t
wanted things to get physical.  Six months was a long time to string someone
along, I knew that, but it didn’t justify the bizarre obsessive behavior he was
showing now and it was just one more burden I felt I had to shoulder.

I was so ready to just let it all
go. I changed into a pair of sweats and curled up on the bed to watch some
Netflix, knowing that Ayden wouldn’t be home from her shift until after two
leaving me to pout alone.  I should be out and about, should have a phone full
of friends I could call to spend a rare Friday night off with, but I didn’t and
that was just sad.  All I needed was a couple of cats and a pint of ice cream
to make the pathetic picture complete.  Sometime after my second romantic
comedy and Chinese delivery I vowed to fully embrace whatever Ayden had in
store for me for my birthday tomorrow because what I was doing now was just
sad.  My roomie was right, I needed some fun, needed to lighten up and however
she decided to make that happen I was on board for.  I fell asleep watching yet
another dorky girl get a fantastic make over because for whatever reason the
guy couldn’t see how beautiful she was under her glasses and messy hair.

I woke up the next morning to happy
birthday texts from Rome and my father.  As usual there was nothing from my mom
and I hated to admit I was sad that Margot didn’t send one.  I decided to make
breakfast.  I was surprised by a beautiful bouquet on the kitchen table and
recoiled when I saw who the card was from.  I was seriously going to have to do
something about Gabe.

Ayden was an early riser; she went
running every morning no matter how late she got in from work the night
before.  She motioned to the flowers with her mug and scowled.  “They were on
the door step when I got back from my run.”

“I know.  I think I might have to
get a restraining order.”

“Isn’t his dad a judge or
something?”

I sighed.  “Yeah.”  Getting Gabe to
back off might be harder than I thought.  “Do you want me to make breakfast?”

She shook her dark head and her
eyes glittered at me with excitement.  “No I’m going to take you to Lucille’s
and then I have the best birthday day planned for you in the history of
birthdays.”  I loved Lucille’s.  It was a popular Cajun restaurant in Washington
Park and probably one of the few places outside of New Orleans where you could
find an honest to god beignet.

“Yay sounds good.  What’s on the
docket?”

“First we’re going shopping.”  I
made a face because I hated shopping.  I lived in a ridiculous uniform for work
and expensive, name brand clothes that my parents insisted I wear because I was
supposed to be dressing for the job I wanted and not the job I had and doctors
of any sort apparently didn’t walk around in jeans and t-shirts even when they
were off the clock.  Seeing my face she grinned evilly.  “No we aren’t going
rich girl shopping, we’re going normal every day college girl shopping.  We’re
going to the mall, we’re going to my favorite thrift store, we’re going to that
cool vintage store on Pearl Street and you my friend, you are not allowed to
spend more than fifty bucks on any one thing so there will be no two hundred
dollar heels, no five hundred dollar cashmere sweater sets, no perfectly
tailored slacks that are hand stitched by blind monks in the Andes or whatever. 
We’re just going to be two normal friends spending a day blowing our tips on
useless crap.”

Oh that sounded like fun and
something I never got a chance to do.  “And then,” her whiskey tinted eyes
widened dramatically.   “We’re going to the salon and getting our hair done and
mani-pedis.  One of the girls in my inorganic chemistry class has this great
hair, she looks like rainbow bright, she swears by this place.  So we’re going
to get all pretty, put on our new, normal girl clothes and go have dinner at
that Brazilian place we’ve both been dying to try.”

It sounded awesome all of it
sounded awesome.  I was about to launch myself at her in a huge hug of
gratitude when she held up a hand.  “I’m not done.”  She disappeared into her
room for a minute and came back out with a card in a pink envelope.  “The you
are going to take this very cool, very necessary birthday present I got you and
come out with me and I don’t mean out to Dave and Busters or Old Chicago’s, I
mean out, out and I will cram a good time down your pretty little throat if it
freaking kills me.”

I opened the card with mild
trepidation.  I didn’t know what she meant by out, out.  Inside the card was a
shiny wrapped present that at first glance looked like a credit card.  After I
read her sweet birthday wishes I carefully pulled the paper off and gasped when
I saw what was looking back up at me.  “Ayd I can’t use this.”

The Id had my face on it, my
birthday only one year older and looked exactly like a Colorado driver’s license. 
In fact it looked so much like the one in my wallet there was hardly any
difference.

“Oh yes you can.  You’ve spent
twenty years being everybody’s good little girl, and I’m sick of you killing
yourself over it.  Most girls your age go out, sneak into clubs, kiss boys,
have sloppy one night stands, get into ridiculous, drama filled fights with
their girlfriends, Shaw you don’t do any of that.  Tonight you are taking that
Id and coming out with me and acting like every other idiot twenty year old I
know.  We’re going to drink too much, act silly and have fun, you deserve it. 
I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile or laugh.  You’re letting your
soul wither away trying to be someone you’re just not and I can’t stand by and
watch it happen anymore.”

“I turn twenty one next year.”  I’m
not sure why I thought that was a valid argument to all her more than accurate
points, but for some reason it’s what popped out of my mouth.

She shook her dark head.  “Who
cares?  You’re twenty today and you’re living like you’re fifty.”  It stung
because on the last trip to Brookside Rule had said pretty much the same thing. 
With a sigh I remembered my resignation last night to just turn myself over to
Ayden’s plan, to for once just let go.  I tucked some hair behind my ears and
squared my shoulders.

“Okay.”

Ayden looked up under raised
eyebrows.  “Okay?”

“Yep.  Let’s do this.  Let the
birthday fun and debauchery commence.”  She squealed loud enough to make my
ears hurt and rushed around the table to wrap me up in a hug that squeezed the
life out of me.

“Trust me Shaw, you will never
forget today.”  She was right because by the end of the night this birthday
would prove to be life changing.

Breakfast was amazing and we
stuffed ourselves so full of fried goodness that by the time we hit the mall I
needed to do a few laps just to keep moving.  I tried on a million pairs of
jeans and ended up buying quite a few.  I grabbed a pair of Chuck Taylors that
I always wanted but was never allowed to have and stocked up on boring old
t-shirts and tank tops.  At the thrift store I scooped up an awesome old school
leather jacket and a couple western style shirts with pearl buttons that I knew
would look awesome with my new skinny jeans.  At the vintage store I went a
little crazier because I just fell in love with all the fifties and sixties
style dresses.  I looked like a character out of Mad Men in a few of them and
like Bettie Page minus the height in a couple more.  I bought a pair of heels
that were peacock blue and had sequined feathers on the side and a sweet pill
box hat that I probably would never wear but adored.  More importantly I
laughed with Ayden for hours while we tried thing after thing on and felt like
a giant weight was off my chest.  It was fun, plain and simple and the fact I
forgot what that felt like was just sad.

At the salon I got a hot pink
mani-pedi and just for kicks had them add little black stars.  It was cool and
totally against the normal pale and pearly colors I went for.  The lady doing
it had bright green dread-locks and a tattoo across her forehead so I was
thrilled when she grinned at me and told me she approved.  Everyone that worked
at this salon had a cool, rock and roll kind of vibe and while I normally would
have felt out of place and reserved, they were all so nice and friendly that it
was impossible to do anything but relax and have a good time.  The guy in
charge of my hair was a big, obviously gay, African American dressed head to
toe in leopard print.  His shiny bald head had a big tattoo of an eye on the
back and his shoes probably cost more than mine, but he was sweet and told me my
hair was gorgeous and suggested I just put some layers in it to give it body
and life.  I was all on board and even asked if he could do something new with
the color.  My hair was so pale I normally avoided dying it simply because it
went too far in the extreme.  His dark eyes gleamed in excitement when I asked
for something kicky but still respectable, what I got was my normally ash blond
with a shadow of chestnut brown underneath.  It was awesome, different but understated
enough not to be alarming.  My favorite part was that he had bisected my super
straight bangs in half and added the darker color to one side.  It was trendy
and hip and so different from what my hair normally looked like I hugged him
hard in glee on my way out.  He hugged me back more than likely because I
tipped enough to take a weekend trip on, but who cared, I looked awesome.

We ran back to the house to get
dolled up for dinner.  I put on one of my new outfits, a super tight pencil
skirt and a sheer blue top with a black cami underneath.  I curled up my new
hair, put on more makeup than I normally wore and decided just for the hell of
it I would wear my awesome black boots.  They looked like something a Harley Davidson
model would wear, but I loved them and they gave my look a certain edge that I
was feeling after a day of letting the real Shaw off her perpetual leash. 
Ayden put on a slinky red number that made her long legs look endless and set
against her dark hair had our waiter at the restaurant practically drooling
into our water every time he stopped by to refill our glasses.  She made me try
out my new Id by ordering a drink, it worked like a charm and before I knew it
we were both feeling no pain and having a great time bouncing from bar to bar
and club to club in LoDo and even after a few hours making our way back up
towards Capitol Hill and some of cool dive bars up there.  I was surprised that
I didn’t even need to show the fake Id at most places, turns out a tight skirt
and exposed breasts work just as well.