Scared of Beautiful (2 page)

As I walk out of the small space, Jade is reaching for her bag, sans Jackson. Can’t say I didn’t just feel a twinge of disappointment. “We’re going to grab breakfast. Coming?” she asks casually.

I think of missing my Nineteenth Century American Literature class, my favorite one, and decide that I am beyond being able to concentrate today. “Sure,” I smile and grab my bag from the foot of my unmade bed. Jade looks over at my bed and I can tell she’s annoyed that I haven’t made it yet, and clearly don’t plan on doing so.

Jackson’s head pops into the doorway, and my hormones rage, just a touch. “Ready?’’ he asks. We nod in unison and follow him out to a vintage jet black Mustang.

Jade practically catapults into the clouds when she sees the car. “Oh my God, he gave it you?” she squeals.

“Loaned it. I get it completely when I graduate,” he answers. Turning to me he offers a further explanation, which I am grateful for, because I am fast feeling like the third wheel on this excursion. “My dad’s car, he bought it the year I was born, been fixing it ever since. It’s kind of his pride and joy.”

After squeezing past the front seat into the two door car with the barely there back seat, and being further impeded by the presence of a rather large subwoofer, I bring my knees to my chest and decide that comfort is not possible in this car. It’s clearly not designed for a third wheel. We drive off campus to the Clever Bean, which happens to be my favorite place in the world. The Clever Bean is one of Providence’s oldest bookstores converted to a glorious café. It is set over a huge two levels, the second of which is a galley level with a floor to ceiling bookshelf that I’m sure houses every single one of my favorite books. That galley is strewn with a mixture of beanbags and old chaise lounges and sofas, the perfect place to chill out with a good book. The lower level is an eclectic mix of retro ‘60’s, ‘70’s, and ‘80’s furniture, pod shaped chairs, lime green worn couches, and paisley armchairs with regal backs. A large, expansive counter and coffee bar spans the length of the back wall, and the side walls are covered in paintings and shelves packed with manuscripts and CDs, where indie artists of all sorts can advertise and sell their wares. Brown also has a campus bar, but that’s generally where the less sophisticated members of the student body go to hang out. The neon lights, pool tables, and massive cocktail bar with its scantily clad co-eds tending to it are my idea of hell.

“Nice.” Jackson nods his approval as we make our way to an L shaped lounge towards the back corner. My phone flashes for about the twentieth time since we left the campus. I decide that it’s probably a good idea to check who’s so desperate to speak to me. MOM flashes onto the screen, the backlight turning on and off in tandem with the phone’s vibration. I contemplate picking it up but decide against it. He’s clearly been giving her a hard time again. He’s probably drunk or threatening her again. I push the thought from my mind. I can’t deal with this now.
Fresh start. Fresh start
. I repeat the mantra over and over again until it sinks in sufficiently enough to push the concern away.

“You don’t have to ignore me, you know.” The voice shakes me from my attempts at self-counselling. Jackson is sitting across from me, his legs flung casually onto the coffee table in front of him as he settles into the sofa’s corner. “But just so you know, I’m awesome. Your loss.” He shrugs his shoulders indifferently.

I glare at him. He is an infuriating smart ass, and he knows exactly how to antagonize me too. Not that I would ever admit that. Jade is ordering coffee and lunch and he glances in her direction. I find my eyes wandering to the bulge created by his almost too tight jeans and his casual pose. I snap myself out of it, just one moment too late, and look up to see Jackson eyeing me with a smug smile on his face. I do the only thing I can at this point. I glare back at him. “If there’s anything that catches your eye or that you’re curious about, just say it. I’m happy to respond accordingly.” His smug smile inches up a notch.
He is fucking intolerable!

“Some things don’t change, do they Jackson?” Jade arrives back in time to catch the tail end of the comment. She looks at him with mock disapproval, a small smile playing at her lips. “Don’t pay attention to him, Maia. He thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” He smiles at her happily. They look like they have that kind of unfailing friendship, which transcends time and distance and everything in between. If they were ever to become a couple, they would truly be enviable. Hell, even their names are melodic together.
Jackson and Jade
. Their children could be Justin and Janet. The ever so slight pang of jealousy assaults my chest again. We chat for the next two hours about everything from music to cars to school. There are parts where Jade and Jackson tell stories about their childhood and friends, and I find myself enjoying the happy banter. They make every effort to try not to exclude me wherever possible.

After ingesting four brioche, five slices of chocolate pizza, and way too many assorted macaroons, washed down by enough caffeine to make us insomniacs for the next decade at least, the three of us leave the Clever Bean. I once again make an excuse to occupy the back seat in Jackson’s Mustang for the trip back to Brown. Jackson opens the car door when we arrive at the dorm, and offers a hand to help me untangle my limbs from the tight space. He smiles down at me, and I notice that he has one of those smiles where every part of his face smiles along with his mouth. His eyes turn up at the corners, his cheekbones round out, his single dimple makes an appearance on his left cheek, and his lips part open ever so slightly, adding just the right amount of cockiness to the mix.
He may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a hot one.

Jade and I walk into our dorm room just as the afternoon sky is disappearing to give way to night. The view of the iridescent sky from our window leaves me breathless every time. “So hurry up and ask.” Jade’s voice shatters through my daydream.

“Ask what?” I say, bending down to help collect the books she threw across our room at the sight of Jackson earlier. She eyes me off with a ‘whatever, like you don’t know’ stare. I choke back a laugh with my reply. “Seriously what? I have no idea what you’re asking me.”

“Jackson” she deadpans. “Every female I know asks about him at least once. So why haven’t you?” She seems bored with the idea that women seem to want throw themselves at him, and doesn’t wait for my response. “Look, you’re my friend so I’ll tell you the way it is without the sugar coated shit I feed the rest of the bobble heads. He hasn’t been interested in women for a while. He’s not the kind of long-term guy a girl like you needs. You’d be wasting your time. Players like Jackson are not for nice girls, even if he is awesome, too.”
How does she know what I need?

I have to admit, my curiosity piques to discover that underneath that sculpted exterior, he may be a complex creature. “I’m not interested in him at all.” I reply with as much sincerity as I can muster. Truth is, I am not interested in anyone. I’ve had one boyfriend in my life, and relationships are an experience I would not care to relive. She opens her mouth, assumingly to call bullshit, but on a second thought, her jaw snaps back shut. I crash onto my bed and grab my well-weathered copy of
Great Expectations
and disappear into the familiar story. Though I really can’t explain why, I have the feeling that tomorrow is going to be a better day, after all.

Jackson

What amazes the hell out of me about this college campus is not the awesome architecture, but the number of slutty women and asshole guys roaming around. I assume that given the Rhode Island location, a lot of these pretenders are trust fund babies. I really don’t give a damn that they have money, but some of them act like idiots because of it. My first rule for college life: stay away from assholes. While sitting in the enormous park that flanks the entrance to the main building, under a tree with the latest edition of Top Gear, I decide this is where I intend to stay when I’m not studying. I also intend to keep my one and a half good friends as they are, and everyone else will be an acquaintance. I have no time for fake bullshit. I say half because I know Jade is my friend and her roommate Maia, well, I think she genuinely dislikes me. Which is awesome, because she’s hot and sweet, and I have no desire to meet someone here at all. So long as she keeps me at arm’s length, it’s all good. Although I can’t help but feel like it might be fun to change her mind.

I flip the magazine shut and stare up at the sky as it shoots off a kaleidoscope of oranges, purples and blues. The nervous habit I have of rubbing my palms together and interlacing my fingers causes me to look down and inspect my hands. My nails, though I attempted to scrub them well, still bear remnants of engine oil and congealed grease. The callouses on my hands remind me of the years I spent ratchet in hand, tightening bolts and clamps. Had I not had the hands of a hardworking man, looking at me you might assume that I was a pretty boy. That’s precisely why my hands are the best part of me.

I reach into my pocket to retrieve my phone. Scrolling through the camera’s images, my fingers stop when I reach a photo of a long-haired blonde and a sweet little girl with olive skin and bouncy light brown curls. I pinch the screen until the blonde woman is completely removed from the image and stare down at the little girl’s magnified face. As I examine every little delicate feature, I notice that when I look into her eyes, they mirror mine exactly. I didn’t tell Jade I found her. I didn’t tell Jade that I spent almost every cent that I earned on private investigators to find her. I didn’t tell my parents either. No one knows, except me. Just like no one knows that one day after a few beers too many, I had dialed the number the investigator gave me and was greeted by the sweetest little voice in the world on the other end. And no one knows that when her mother took the phone from her hand and I called her out on her lie, she gently hung the phone up.
No love lost there, I guess
.

And then that moment, you know that point when you just have to say “Fuck it!”? I had a moment like that one. I know she’s lying, but the investigator showed me a birth certificate without my name on it. And to think I didn’t follow Jade to Brown because I was waiting in a small time suburb in the hopes that one day she would come back home. I squint as the glaring afternoon sun peeks at me from behind a silver-lined cloud. This is precisely why I have no desire to go near another woman anytime this decade. I know I probably shouldn’t be so bitter; not every girl is Shana, and I am definitely a lot fucking smarter than I was back then. No hat, no sex; a simple rule that I could kick myself for not following in high school.

I shake my thoughts away from the negativity that is invading my mind. I’m here for a new start. I hold my hand over the phone, my finger hovering over the menu button wherein the delete function lies. The bouncy curls and bright eyes stare back at me and I close the gallery. I’ll keep the photo. And make sure Jade never sees it. If she knows I found Shana and didn’t tell her, she’d never forgive me. I shove the phone into my pocket, deciding that distraction is my best option. As I make my way to the huge campus library to try to find my textbooks for this semester, the familiar golden brown hair and frame of my half-friend comes into view. I pick up my pace to a casual jog until I catch up to her. Maia has changed into a pair of yoga pants and a razorback tank. She has taken her makeup off and I wonder to myself why she even bothers with that shit to begin with.
She’s even more beautiful without it.

“It’s not safe for you to be out here after sun down unescorted!”

My teasing comment causes her to stop and visibly stiffen. I jog up the last few stairs until I’m one step above her. She pulls her hair into a messy bun as she turns her head in my direction.

“Hey!” Her expression is pleasant, and it stuns me.

Maybe she’s not so stone cold after all
.

Judging by the way she’s fumbling with the corner of her book bag, she’s nervous as hell around me. I don’t get this chick. I really don’t. I may not be interested in anyone, but I generally have the ability to charm the pants off of anyone who’s unfortunate enough to come near me. But her obvious indifference to me makes me want to ask her what her favorite food, color and movie are.

“What are you up to?” I ask, as casually as I can muster.

“Just need to grab a few books,” she answers, chewing on her bottom lip nervously, though her eyes stay focused and determined. Her lips may be her only tell.

“Mind if I tag along? I have no idea where to look for what I need. Little help please?” I cringe inwardly, preparing for the shutdown that she’s about to hand me, and my face morphs into obvious shock when she answers with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

“Sure,” she replies.

We make our way past the eight librarians that occupy the enormous reference desk and situate ourselves at one of the study spaces towards the back. She lays her book bag down and looks towards me. “So, what do you need?”