Page 33 of Electric Blue Love
“Hey, sorry it took so long. Been quite a night. Wow, you look great,” he prattled on, openly appreciating Bianca’s bare legs without giving me so much as a glance.
“Hi, Todd,” she said looking down to the sidewalk.
So, this was Todd. He looked like every other preppy asshole I’d seen in the bar tonight. I had him on height by a good few inches, but he was bulkier – maybe not more muscular, but broader – built something like a lineman instead of the squash player I knew him to be. He finally looked at me as if he’d just noticed Bianca wasn’t alone. Strategic incompetence. He wanted me to know that I didn’t matter.
“Todd,” he stuck out his hand to me, giving me no other option than to shake.
“Court,” I said, giving him one firm squeeze and pulling back. “So, I’ll talk to you later?” I said, looking to Bianca. I was giving her the easy out. I knew she wanted to go with him. If she’d asked me what to do in this exact situation I would have told her going back in the bar for a drink was the right move. Hell, my being here probably made her all that more appealing. In Todd’s eyes she’d be choosing him over me. The perfect setup. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.
“I –” she stammered as Todd moved to her side and waited with an outstretched hand.
I leaned down, brushing my lips against her cheek before whispering in her ear, “Sweet dreams, 8B.”
Todd dropped myhand once we were inside the bar. I wondered if the way he’d so possessively taken my hand outside had more to do with Court than how happy he was to see me. Still I was excited.
I understood that appearances were part of the package with Todd. He wasn’t malicious or ostentatious on purpose, sometimes it was just a side effect of the way he’d been raised. He’d grown up with a family who prided themselves on being perfectly put together. He’d admitted once that his father had actually inspected his outfit each night before dinner.
When I thought of the ratty play clothes my mother had insisted I wear at home – to preserve my school clothes – I’d felt a mixture of sadness and jealousy. Sadness because my best memories had been made when I was wearing those dirty clothes that were a size too small and filled with holes.
I was jealous for obvious reasons – what kid hadn’t wanted to own a closet full of nice clothes? To stand out for looking nice. That’s a desire that starts early on and I’m not sure it ever leaves us. If it does, I wasn’t there yet. I tried to stay in the not pathetic enough to draw attention to myself zone. So, I hadn’t looked ratty enough to draw attention and I was smart enough that I’d floated through school being mostly invisible.
“What are you drinking?” Todd asked as he tapped his credit card on the bar to get the bartender’s attention.
He didn’t look at me as he spoke, instead he bobbed his head around in that impatient way people do to draw attention to themselves without shouting ‘Hey you’ or waving their hands around. When it was clear that the bartender wasn’t running over to take his order, he looked over my head – eyes scanning the place to see who was here and who wasn’t.
It was petty to compare him to Court, but it occurred to me then, that in the entire time I’d spent with Court tonight he’d never once looked past me. He’d only been interested in me.
“I can’t stay, Todd.” That got his eyes back on me and suddenly I had his undivided attention. I continued, “I have interviews tomorrow morning and I’ve already stayed out longer and drank more than I should have.”
The disappointment on his face only lasted a second until his buddies surrounded us, all vying to get the attention of the bartender who I was starting to think was avoiding them on purpose.
“What time are you done tomorrow? Do you want to grab lunch?”
“My interviews go until late afternoon. What about dinner?”
“We have a team dinner tomorrow. How about Friday?”
“Sounds great,” I said just as the bartender finally made her way to Todd. He waved to me as he spouted out their order and I slipped away. I moved toward the door in a haze of confusion. Why was I leaving? I’d been perfectly content to blow off the interviews at the beginning of the night, but now it just felt irresponsible and wrong. I wasn’t even all that sad about leaving Todd.
Back at my apartment I slipped off my heels and groaned at the ache in my feet. Court had been right yet again – those shoes were only meant for one thing and it wasn’t walking.
The alcohol was still buzzing through my body and although I knew I needed to crawl into bed and try and get as much sleep as possible, it’s not what I did. I wanted to talk to Court.
I’d felt guilty about the way things had ended tonight. His manners had been impeccable as he’d graciously left without making a big deal of it. Still, I’d seen the way he’d looked at me tonight. I was almost sure there was something more to his interest in me than helping me with Todd.
Phone in hand, I plopped onto my bed and pulled up our text exchange. While I stared at the screen trying to figure out what to type, it buzzed in my hand.
Court: Good luck on your interviews tomorrow, 8B. Let me know how they go.
Me: Thank you.
I was still torn on what to say next when his reply came.
Court: That was quick. You home already?
Me: Yes, just walked in.
How did we move forward from tonight? I didn’t want to ask him about relationships or talk about Todd, I wanted to ask about him. Who was Court Adams?
