Page 32 of Trusting You
“When’s the last time you showered?” he wrinkled his nose as he made his way in the apartment.
“I don’t stink,” I lifted one arm to sniff my pit. I’ll admit I really can’t remember the last shower I took, but I haven’t done anything to really make myself smell. Well, at least I didn’t think so.
“You do too,” Brock crossed his arms over his chest. “Just look at yourself,” he motioned one arm up and down in front of me.
“It’s not that bad,” I groaned as I rolled my eyes. I mean, the shirt I was wearing only had a few stains on it. I’d changed my boxers each day. I stopped shaving, but that wasn’t really an issue. Women liked beards, right? I’d been living off beer and chips, but I’d kept my beach bod. I didn’t understand what Brock was so upset about.
“Listen. You need to pull your shit together. Emma called me, and if I don’t get you put together and out to Eastman, I’m not getting laid anytime soon,” he moved to stand in front of me, effectively blocking my view of the TV. “So, get up,” he reached for the remote and clicked the TV off, “and get your ass showered. Then you’re going to get in your car, and drive out there,” he tapped his foot. “Tell her you’re sorry for whatever your stupid ass did, and fix this.”
“I didn’t DO anything,” I glared at him. “She ran out on me,” I pointed my thumb at my chest. “I’ve called, texted, hell I did everything BUT show up at her door, and she hasn’t wanted anything to do with me,” I crossed my arms, mimicking him.
“I don’t want to beat your ass, but I will if you don’t get up right now!” he leaned down in my face.
“Fine!” I stuck my chin out as I stood chest to chest with him.
“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. “Take some flowers with you. I don’t think your face is enough to get you in the door.”
I didn’t think about the fact that it was Saturday when I hopped into my Jeep to make the six-hour drive Eastman. It didn’t dawn on me that she wouldn’t be in her room. Mel went home every weekend for some unknown reason. She wouldn’t tell me anything about her family. All I knew was that her mom picked her up every Friday after class, and she had some warped sense of duty that she owed her family. For all I knew, they treated her like a servant.
When I pulled up in the parking lot outside the dorms, it was evening. A few street lamps lit the parking lot and co-eds were wandering in and out of the buildings. I glanced at the flowers sitting on the front seat of my Jeep. My mom had told me that Mel would like them when I picked them out at her shop this afternoon. They were purple and white lilies with accents of forget-me-nots. I thought it was stupid, but Mom seemed to always know best. At least this mom did. Avery wasn’t my mom, but she’s raised me since I was baby. I’ve always felt more loyalty to her, than anyone else.
I jogged to the door, and waited for someone to exit so I could get in. Instead of waiting on the elevator, I took the stairs two at a time. By the time I reached Mel and Emma’s floor I was completely out of breath. I made my way to their door and paused before knocking. Right when I lifted my hand, the door flew open.
“It’s about time you got here,” Emma was standing there in an oversized t-shirt with her hair twisted up in a towel.
“Sorry,” I grimaced. “She’s been ignoring me. Why should I keep trying? Am I the only one in this whole situation that has a brain?”
“She needs you more than ever. I just think she’s scared,” she stepped back and pulled me through the door. “She went home yesterday. Aaron,” Em sat down on her bed, “she hasn’t been herself since we got back here. Something’s wrong. I’ve watched her go through the motions all week, but the gleam that used to be there is gone. She didn’t even argue when her mom came to get her yesterday.”
“So how am I supposed to fix this, if she’s not here?” I cocked my head to side and gave her a look.
Emma smiled like she was getting ready to share a secret, “You go to where she is.”
“Nice try. I don’t know where her parents live,” I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t either, but I’ve got mad detective skills,” Emma waved a piece of paper between us.
I yanked it from her hands and stared down at it. There in little black print was what I needed. It was a credit card bill with Mel’s home address. “Where did you find this?”
“Mel brings back mail from her parents’ house all the time. I just dug through the trash,” she shrugged like it was no big deal that we were doing this.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, ambushing her,” I clarified.
“I think it’s romantic,” Emma swooned. “Besides, Brock never did this stuff for me. This way I get to live through you guys,” she giggled before jumping up and prancing to the door. “What are you waiting for?” she opened the door and stepped back.
I shook my head, but let my heart lead the way. What was the worst that could happen? Let’s think about that… I’m going to show up at her door, a place where she’s worked really hard to keep me away from. I’m gonna come unannounced, something that she hates. I’m coming when I wasn’t invited, something that’s probably going to really piss her off. Yeah, this is a great plan.
It only took me about ten minutes to get there. Mel’s parents lived in a small subdivision not far from campus. The place where I took her on our first date wasn’t far away. It was a stately two-story brick home with a manicured lawn. I didn’t know what her dad did, but he must have done well for himself. A gas light was burning by the front door which had an old-fashioned iron door knocker on it.
I sat there in my Jeep for what felt like hours, trying to convince myself to go up to the door. I imagined her, inside with her parents. They were sitting in their family room watching TV together, or they were reading… something that families do. I had that growing up, but I wanted to have it with Mel. What the hell was wrong with me? What did she do to twist me up so bad? Maybe I just needed to taste what we had one more time to get my head on straight. I was in no condition to be professing something like that.
I glanced over at the flowers, and then checked myself in my mirror one last time before climbing out. I made my way up the front walk, flowers in hand, and mumbling to myself what I would say to her when she opened the door. After taking a few deep breaths, I lifted my hand to the knocker and propelled myself forward. It was now or never.
Melinda
“How was your vacation?” I could tell my mom had been wanting to ask me about my trip since she picked me up yesterday.
“It was fine,” I mumbled as I turned the page on the book I was reading. We’d finished dinner a little bit ago. Mom was watching some home show on the TV and Dad was buried in the newspaper while Brooklyn played on the floor. I’d been pretending to read since we sat down. My evening had been anything but relaxing, and my parents knew this, but they kept pushing.
