The Lonely

Page 6

I look like I do going to the gym, same ponytail and no makeup. She, however, dolls up.
I look like Plain-Jane next to her, exactly how I like it.
Crossing the parking lot, we run into a group of people. "Hey Michelle," One of the girls calls out.
I look at Shell. She shrugs, "Stuart took me out last night. I met her in the seating line up at a pub. Be right back." She runs over to where the girl is huddled with other girls. She makes friends everywhere. It's how I met her. She forced me to talk to her. I shiver and push away the memory.
I don’t run over. I stand where I was and notice a couple of the guys in the group walking toward me.
"Hi." An amazing looking guy nods at me. His grin makes me feel dirty. It's a bad feeling. "What's your name?" I feel like I'm in trouble when he looks at me.
"Her name is none of your business. Now let's go." Shell storms back over and grabs my hand. She pulls me away just in the nick of time. Just as my hands started to sweat.
Her long, leggy steps are ridiculous in the four-inch heels. She drags me down the street. When we get to the bar, Shell looks back at the girls behind us and grins. Three of them run up to where we are. They shorten skirts and plump breasts as we near the huge lineup.
One of the girls leans into me, "You should probably stand back with the dudes or tie your shirt up and pull your jeans down to the hipbones."
I frown and look at Shell, '"Are you for real?"
Shell nods, "They won't let you in if you don’t look hot. Smoking hot. Otherwise it's the line up."
"You might have let me in on that before we left the house." I murmur.
"You wouldn’t have come. Stop being a baby."
I look past her at the huge line up and then down at my thin black t-shirt. I then look back at the hot guy with the scary smile. He winks at me.
"Oh, hell no." I roll my shirt up into my bra and reef on my jeans. They sit just above my underwear. I shiver and wrap my hands around my now naked midsection. If sister Elizabeth saw me now she would flog me. I can feel the flogging if I let myself get too wrapped up in the fear of exposing myself like this.
My phone vibrates instantly. I know Stuart is probably spying on us and reporting back to the master. I take deep breaths when the bouncer gives us the greasiest smile ever, and pulls the rope aside for us.
A tall blonde points back at the guys, "They're with us."
The guys hustle through too. The creepy one is pressed into my back. His hands are near my sides. I can feel the warmth of him on my bare skin, brushing against me.
We are rushed through to the club.
The music pumps so hard I can feel it in my teeth. The panic starts to set in, but in the middle of it all something happens. Something that has never happened before.
I like the song that's playing and the room smells like something familiar, in a good way. I look around and no one notices me. No one is looking at me.
I let Shell pull me out onto the dance floor. I pull my t-shirt down and jeans up a bit. We start to dance. I've never been a big dancer so I'm surprised when I like it.
I start giving into urges and throwing my arms up and letting my hair down.
I'm having fun. I'm not the prettiest girl. The bar is full of them. The boys aren't touching me or trying to talk to me. The fears I have are numbed by the fact I'm not getting the attention I feared I would.
Well, not until a tall guy in a light-blue shirt and dark-gray slacks walks up to me. He's dressed fancy for a bar in a college town. His face is handsome in a way that commands my instant respect. He looks like he should have supermodels on either arm, or be in a music video. He doesn't look older, just confident and dangerous.
He smiles at me and it's scary and cold. "Want to dance?"
I can barely hear him over the music. I shake my head, "No, thank you."
He smiles at me and looks down. He has dark hair in a faux hawk and a dimple in his left cheek. I know him. I swear it. It almost scares me. His icy-blue eyes are so familiar, but like they're locked behind a haze.
"Do I know you?" I ask, almost like I'm in a dream. He looks at me with confusion mixed with a subtle hint of severity.
"I don't think so." He looks around. His cool demeanor and stylish clothes are catching the eyes of the girls around us.
It hits me when I look at the other guys in the bar. He is controlling himself and moody compared to the other guys. He looks severe and harsh. I can't help but wonder why he's talking to me. The girl who looks like she might be the janitor, not the girls who are almost naked and grinding up against each other.
It hits me like a ton of bricks and I know why he's talking to me. I grin sarcastically, "Are you him? Are you my guardian?" I am smarter than he gives me credit for being.
His cold blue eyes harden and he instantly looks more confused and less interested in me. "Him who? What?" He takes a step back and laughs, like he's confused but also mocking me. He rolls his icy eyes, "I just wanted a dance."
I frown. He turns and walks away. It stings a bit, he rejected me and somehow I feel like a head case from it. Like I'm crazy for thinking he could be the man helping me. I've never felt rejection. People are usually overly kind to me. Except the nuns and fathers. Growing up, we were always made to work hard and respect people. We were treated based on how we acted. I learned that quickly.
I reach into my back pocket and pour the hand sanitizer into my palm. I rub and close my eyes. The smell is therapy.
Shell must have seen it. Her icy cold hands grip my arm and shock me. I spin wide eyed, "What?"
She looks over to where the guy disappears into the crowd, "Was he bugging you?"
I shake my head. But she eyeballs the hand sanitizer and makes her own conclusions.
"This was a mistake. We should go." She looks worried.
I shake my head, "No. It's fine. I like it here. It's so intense and busy, I actually feel lost in the crowd. Like I blend."
Her face splits, "Oh man." She sighs, "I'm so glad. I was stressed about bringing you here dude. I know it's my job to push the New Leaf thing, but I was scared."
I shake my head, "Let's dance."
She arches an eyebrow, "Wanna drink?"
I almost say no. I pause and give the question the moment it deserves. I nod. I'm not scared of the bar. I don't hate it. I wanted a normal college life. One drink is definitely normal. If it's not normal, it's New Leaf for sure.
She comes back after a minute with a bottle of beer. She passes it to me and squeals, "The bartender thought I was twenty-one. He sold these to me." She widens her eyes in excitement and drinks. She brings it down and clinks it against mine, "To a New Leaf." She shouts, grinning and looking around.
She is having so much fun. I love it. I can't help but wonder, if I can suck some of the fun off of her and force myself to be more outgoing like her. If I can force myself to not look to closely at the people around us, or the fact I am teetering on the edge of something bad.
I stand closer and compel myself to loosen up. I drink a gulp of beer. It isn’t a big thing to her, but I've never drunk beer. It tastes sick, but I force myself to drink it. It's freedom and adulthood and a New Leaf. Okay, it's a lot to place on one beer.
"Emalyn."
I look to where I've heard my name. My face instantly becomes happiness in a look. My breath is caught in my chest. The pounding beat of the music and the pair of hazel eyes looking at me, are making me happy. Divinely happy. It's a new feeling.
"Sebastian." I had no idea how hot he actually was. Seeing him dressed up, not casual at all, is impressive. I forget my name momentarily.
His smile is bright. He looks at my beer confusedly, "Never saw you as a bar and a beer kind of girl."
I shake my head, "First beer and first bar."
He steps in closer, so he doesn’t have to shout. He smells so good my palms sweat, probably for hand sanitizer, he's pretty close. I fight off the urge. He leans down into my neck and speaks close to my ear, "You doing okay?"
I could love this guy. If my heart ever decided to open up to anyone, it would be him I choose. I nod.
His breath tickles my neck, "If you need out of here you just let me know, okay."
I smile into his shoulder and sigh, "Yup."
He stands back up. It makes some kind of cross breeze and his cologne, that I must have missed when I smelled him, is wafted back at me. It takes up all the sweaty air around me. In that moment, I feel it. The wall. The beer almost slips from my hands. I pass it to him, "Can you just hold this. I need to go to the ladies."
He nods. I point to Shell, who I realize is watching me like a hawk, and point between them. "Michelle, my roommate, Sebastian, the guy from the gym." I turn and run to the bathroom. The sea of people is thick and heady. I shove my way through. The cold air of the bathroom is a comfort. I take in gulps of it.
My shirt is soaked. I slip into a stall and pull it off.
I'm trembling.
His cologne made me freak out?
Shit is wrong with me.
Somehow cologne made the air dirty. It made a wall of sin and sick twisted desires. It hurt deep in my belly.
Tears are flooding my eyes and I'm standing in the stall, waving my shirt back and forth, trying to dry it out.
With shaking hands and blinding tears that won't leave my eyes, I pull my cell from my pants. I can't text. The words don’t make sense. I fat finger the buttons in a panic. I delete the messages and hold the phone to my chest.
I start my affirmations in a breathy whisper, "You are alive. You aren’t fighting the whole world. It's just a few people in a bar. They don’t see you. Frig the bar. This is a tiny stall. It's a small room with a door and protection." I take a deep breath. My words feel thick with saliva and the distraught fear that cripples me.
My legs become heavy. I need to run before my legs become cement blocks. I pull the shirt on and storm from the bathroom. I slip along the back wall. In the corner of my eyes I see them.