Page 13 of Falling for Carla

“You’re diabolical,” Brenda whispered to me, knowing exactly why I didn’t want to go to New York. I ignored her, just kicked her under the table while I searched for exclusive bridal shops on this coast.

“This one says it has sustainable brands, designer consignments and sample sales.”

“I don’t really want a used dress,” Brandi said.

“Okay, well they only wore it once, but they have samples too.”

“Those have been tried on a lot,” she grimaced.

“Aren’t you going to try on dresses? I mean, other people have tried them on. And I’m pretty sure that women going to try on their wedding gown are pretty clean when they do that…” I trailed off.

“You won’t buy the one off the rack,” Skylar soothed. “You can order the one in your size that’s brand new.”

“I do want to try on dresses. I did it once on a dare during Rush Week. It was really pretty---mermaid style, lots of lace and beading, very high end. Although I think I want something more minimalist. Like Meghan Markle but no sleeves for God’s sake. I want strapless.”

“Strapless for everyone!” I said, raising my glass.

I could almost forget the creeping feeling at the back of my neck. I knew that guy was still there and still watching me.

When I went to get us another round of drinks, I was on my guard. Not anxious but making sure I was alert to my surroundings. As soon as I’d placed the order and passed the money across the bar, he got up from his table and drained his drink, bringing his empty glass to the bar, approaching the end where I stood waiting for my order. As soon as the bartender handed me the drinks, I slipped away before he could reach me. My pulse was hammering like I’d made a narrow escape. It was so weird that he hadn’t budged all night and decided to get up the second I went to the bar. I slid the pitcher of margaritas onto the table.

“Did you see that guy?” I asked Brenda.

“What guy? Is he hot?” she answered, oblivious.

“No. He was watching us earlier, and then when I went to get drinks he practically hops up from his table and rushes to the bar. I got away before he reached me, but he just didn’t seem like a regular creeper. You know, the rude guys who offer you a drink and then call you a bitch when you say no. He seemed more…focused than that. I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’re just at the paranoid stage of drunk. You don’t drink very often, and maybe this is why. You think the wallpaper’s watching us,” she laughed. “I’ll look around, but I didn’t see anybody weird.”

“Thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes and taking a drink. I was going to keep a lookout for him and see what he did next.

He was back at his table with a fresh drink, not looking our way. The online bridal scrolling continued, and Brenda found a hysterical post about bridal fashion fails that had us all cracking up. When I looked up again, I didn’t see the guy anywhere, so I figured Brenda was right. I was making something out of nothing, probably leftover trauma from all the violence I witnessed growing up.

That and my insistence on always sitting where I could watch the exit. Definitely not normal twenty something single girl stuff. So after waiting around a couple minutes to see if the guy had just gone to the bathroom or something, I relaxed my vigil. He was gone. He was just some man out drinking alone who was staring at us because we were hot. It felt good to let go of the knot in my stomach and have fun with my friends, and not worry about random guys being potential assassins or something.

Brenda had encouraged me to lighten up a million times and assured me that Berkley was nothing like Brooklyn. That it was this fun, beautiful college town—cultured and laid back at the same time. Trouble didn’t lurk in every corner here. I had to let go of the idea that my past was following me around like a murky shadow I couldn’t shake. I was a grad student out with my friends, joking around and having fun. I had nothing to worry about.

CHAPTER 11

DRAKE

I observed her, the exact moment she registered the man’s interest, his focus on her. I’d been at the bar for about an hour with the guys. I noticed Carla almost immediately when we took our seats. Even though the bar was more crowded than usual, even though there were dozens of young women in the place, that dark curly hair, the kinetic energy about her and the brightness of her smile---it caught my attention at once.

She was a different creature with her friends, outside the classroom and away from the pressures of school. If anything, her ease and happiness was magnetic. She had charisma even giving brief answers in class, her intelligence and personality shining through. So in a crowd, with noise and laughter, it wasn’t surprising that she could hold the attention of anyone who happened to be looking.

“You gonna take a picture or just sit there and stare at the woman?” Hamilton asked.

“What?” I replied, a moment too slow.

“The dark haired one you’ve been watching like it’s your job, maybe,” Aaron said.

“Fuck off.”

“Huh. Fuck off means you know who she is. She’s not just a hot woman in a bar,” Kyle said. “I’ve known you long enough that I recognize the attitude. If she was a stranger you would’ve said, ‘whatever, she’s hot.’”

“You done analyzing me, Professor?” I asked wryly.

“Just making an observation. You do that all the time, Detective,” he countered.

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