Page 55 of Embody

Eighteen

Bellamy

THE NERVE OFhim!

I’ve never slapped another person in my life, or screamed at someone to “fuck off.” Can’t recall ever calling someone a prick either. Not out loud, anyway.

But damn! Here I am putting my faith in a chance at something real with a proclaimed, anti-relationship ladies’ man, whilehe’sdoubtingme? Am I imagining it, or did he and I not already discuss the night at the bar? If memory does in fact serve, I think I made it amply clear that while the attention and song were a cool experience, I wasn’t fooled by flashy gimmicks and had no interest in anything beyond listening to the song and perhaps thanking Zeke after the show.In frontof the stage.

What, does Jeffersonreallythink that coming in and being boisterous, obnoxious, chauvinistic and crudely touchy-feely would change my mind? I’d suddenly want the guy, at his worst, when I didn’t want him at his best?

Or was he just asking to be cruel?

You have to be careful with jealousy, for it is a two-headed beast. A beast you must either train or set free. If demonstratedexactly right, a little jealousy can be sexy and flattering. If executedincorrectly, it’s nothing but hurtful and disrespectful.

Jefferson’s beast got the best of him tonight, and now I’m left wondering—has he no confidence in my character, or does he simply not listen and/or believe me when I talk?

I’m furious, hurt and confused, unsure what to do with myself, pacing my apartment in futile effort to expel this ball of adrenaline rolling around inside me.

I need air. Yes, air is good.

Shooting for two birds with one stone, I gather up the trash to take out with me and walk over to do a quick peek out the window. I like to make sure, especially at night, that the coast is clear, no one milling about, before I walk outside by myself. Not to mention, it’d be hard to get any air if some lunatic attacked me and shoved a bag over my head.

I pull the curtain aside and gasp…at the very same time my eyes mist with undefinable emotion. There, in the exact same spot I angrily jumped out of it, sits a silver Lincoln Navigator.

It’s not as if I know a plethora of people who drive Navigators, so call me presumptuous, but I’m pretty positive who it is—waiting patiently—for what?

And how could he have been sure I’d even look outside?

He couldn’t have been. Which means, he’s camped out for his own reasons, absent of expectation.

I grab my phone, not yet ready to face him.The one I slapped.

 

Me: Why are you still sitting out there?

 

Jefferson: Where else would I be sitting?

 

Me: Um… at home? Your parents? Cuba? Anywhere but in front of my apartment.

 

Jefferson: Now you’re just talking crazy. I’m in a car, not a boat. How the hell would I get to Cuba?

 

Me: Swim. And you know the point I was making.

 

Jefferson: Not really. We have plans tonight, remember? I’m getting kinda hungry too, so if you could speed up your aftermath, that’d be great. I’ve got the key to go look at the apartment and we’ll go grab something to eat after.

 

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