Page 4 of Without a Doubt

When I make it to my one bedroom apartment, I toss my book bag onto the floor, plop down onto the couch, and take a deep breath after a long day. My head is still swimming from my time with Eva. I haven't had that since Kelly. It's as if I went skydiving and I'm still high from the adrenaline rush. Does it mean something?

I've dated other girls since I've been here. Kelly wanted me to and I promised I would. Reluctantly, I can agree that she had a point with parts of her argument. I do feel like I know myself better, although I don't see why I couldn't have figured it out with her. I've certainly grown up more, too. While I've dated some great girls, there was never the potential of it turning into what I had with Kelly. Or is it have since there's only one year left until she lifts me from this ban? Because that's what it feels like; a ban on seeing or speaking to her. A ban on loving her.

Thinking about it is worthless because I run myself in circles. If I'm being honest with myself, I'm rattled because with the hour or so spent in Eva's company, I felt something that I haven't in a year. And with someone who is not Kelly. Shaking my head, I stop analyzing the situation because it's truly nothing to be so concerned about at this point. I need to keep moving forward at a safe distance and pace.

I reach into my pocket for my phone and dial Glen.

“How'd it go with Eva?” he answers.

“Good. Have you talked to her? Do you know what happened before that?”

Glen starts laughing. “Yeah, she called me on her way to her dorm. What's this I hear about your truck having the name Irene?”

“It's Sweet Irene,” I correct. “Anyway, I called for two reasons. I'm disappointed you haven't introduced me to Eva sooner, and why has she never been to Smitty's?” He's the one who took me there, so I would have thought she'd been before.

“We haven't gotten around to it is all. Every time I plan to take her, one of us has to cancel. Hey, are we playing tonight?”

“Yeah, give me about an hour and I'll log on.”

We hang up and I think about what I need to do before we start playing a video game. I've already eaten, so that's done. I read over my syllabuses, take a shower, add Eva's cell number to my phone, and then return to the couch. The game console hums softly as it powers on. The controller and headset are in a basket underneath the side table, so I grab them. Thanks to the Internet, Glen and I are able to play the game from our respective places. It's just the distraction I need to stop thinking about Kelly, Eva, and my problematic dating life.

“WHAT'S WITH THE smile?” my best friend and dorm-mate, Catherine, asks as I apply the cream to my wasp stings.

“I've had a good day.”

She laughs as I sit down on the bed. “Is it because you finally met Emerson Montgomery? Glen was holding back on us. He failed to tell us how hot Emerson is. Does he look as hot in person as he did in the picture you texted us?”

“Yes, but he's not what I expected.” I was surprised to find he's the owner of the truck I hit. His good looks were another surprise. Then came his personality. I feel bad about lying to him, but I doubt he would be happy to know that Glen had shared some of his private troubles with me. It's my fault though.

When Glen came to me, asking why a girl would want a break, would ask her boyfriend to see other people for an extended period of time, he wanted to know what it really meant. Would she truly mean it or was it a way to break up? I thought he was talking about his then girlfriend, who he was crazy about, and demanded to know the full story.

So, he spilled the beans. His dorm-mate, Emerson, was having trouble doing what his girlfriend from high school was asking of him. It sounded crazy to me. I mean, the girl had some good points, but I'm not sure I would ask my boyfriend who I claimed to love to see other girls. However, I have a slight jealous side, too. Still, I told Glen that maybe something was going on that Emerson didn't know about, and she had good reasons for asking him to do this. Or, she was copping out of a break up, hoping he'd meet someone else and forget about her. Glen was trying to figure out her motive, so he could give better advice to Emerson.

The situation Glen told me about sounded weird. I tried to remember that we were only hearing one side, one perspective, but it seemed the opposite of what high school sweethearts would try to do. His story, what I knew of it, intrigued me. Every so often, I'd ask Glen for an update on how he was doing. Slowly, Emerson started seeing other people without feeling so guilty about it. Something about the way Glen spoke of him made me want to meet him.

And now I have.

“What do you mean?” Catherine asks.

“I don't know. I guess I had this image of him in my head, what he would look like, what he would be like, and he blew it to pieces. In the best way, too,” I add. A frown appears as a thought hits me. “Is it bad that I told him he could call me even though I know about his girlfriend from high school? He's pretty much passing the time until they get back together, right? What would be the point of going out with him again if he does call?”

Catherine finally lays the open book she was reading down on her chest, glancing over at me from where she's lying on her bed. “It's been a while since Glen has said anything about Emerson's situation. Something could have changed. You don't even know if he's still waiting for her. I say you have fun and see what happens.”

“Go read your book. I'm tired of you always being wise.”

She grins. “If you would read more, you could be wise, too, you know.”

Responding would be pointless because she's already picked up her book, lost in whatever story she's reading within seconds. I decide to get organized since after Emerson dropped me off, I called the insurance company and it's out of the way for now. I need to go through all the information I got from my classes, start marking dates in the calendar for those that provided a schedule, and make sure all of my things are together for a new semester.

I like to think I'm organized, but I know once this is done, it'll be a week or two before I look at it again. I try though. Once I finish, I grab my phone, pulling up various apps to check my social media accounts. A smile lifts my lips when I see a post from my mom. She's one of those people who likes to share pictures of her food and she'll even include the recipes. Looks like she tried some new pasta tonight.

My phone vibrates as a new text comes in. The number is one that isn't programed into my phone, but I quickly realize who it is based on the message. Before I do anything else, I add Emerson to my contacts.

Emerson: How's the leg?

My thumbs move quickly to reply.

Me: Better. Thanks for asking.

---