From Yesterday Page 2

  "Let me help you," I tell her as I snatch a stray orange from the floor.

  "Thank you. I shouldn't have tried to carry so much, but I just moved in and I didn't know if there was a cart or something downstairs."

  "The valet has one. Next time, just let them help you out."

  She nods. We finish gathering the stuff that fell on the floor and I place it in the bags that didn't rip as she unlocks her door. If her unit is the same layout as mine, the kitchen will be near the entrance off of the foyer. I can set her bags down quickly and leave.

  "Please come in. I really appreciate your help."

  I'm right about the layout of her place and I have the stuff on the breakfast bar in no time. Even though there are several boxes still unpacked in here, I can't help but notice that her place looks much more lived-in than mine. It's warm and inviting. "No problem."

  She extends her hand to me. "I'm Elyse. Nice to meet you."

  I shake her hand. "Paige."

  "Well, Paige. I'm about to start dinner for my fiance and myself. He should be home in an hour or so. Obviously I have plenty of food. Can I invite you to join us?"

  "I wish I could, but I'm on my way to the library to meet a classmate," I lie.

  Her face falls slightly. "That's too bad. We moved here only a few days ago from Indiana. My fiance got a great promotion,but it's so far from home. I don't know anyone. Maybe another time?"

  I feel guilty. I know what it's like to be far away from everyone you love, even if it was by choice. I nod my head even though I doubt it will ever happen. "Definitely."

  I'm really on a roll with this lying thing. Elyse follows me to the door and holds it open for me.

  "It was nice meeting you, Paige. Knock on my door anytime."

  "Likewise, Elyse."

  That makes two people that I have spoken to in one day for something other than a necessity. If I wasn't still so shaken by the love note in my bathroom, I would almost feel human again.

  I take the elevator to the third floor and head into the parking garage. Though I prefer to walk, this is Miami and public transportation is a joke here. I bought an Acura MDX when I moved here. It is the same car Nicole used to drive.

  The Starbucks on Biscayne and 190th street is unusually quiet for a late afternoon, but I'm thrilled by this because I'll actually have a place to sit. I choose an overstuffed armchair near the restrooms. People don't like to sit close to bathrooms, but I don't care. I pull out my iPad and load the school's online course web page. I take as many courses on the web based service as possible because I'm self-motivated enough to get my work done without someone telling me to and I really enjoy sleeping late. I took an 8 am class the first semester of Freshman year and I got a C simply because I slept through it so many times my professor lowered my grade. Never again.

  I'm taking one of those lame syllabus quizzes that you have to do just so your instructor knows you logged on, when I see a shadow fall across my lap.

  A male voice. "Mind if I sit?"

  Without bothering to look up I tell him, "Yes. I mind."

  "Be careful, Paige. I might start to think you don't like me."

  My head snaps up. Of course it's Brady that is standing over me. My day gets better and better. "I don't know you well enough to dislike you, Brady. I just really like to study alone."

  He sits in the chair next to mine, regardless of my obvious discomfort. His position is legs open and he leans towards me with his elbows resting on his thighs, macho-style, yet there is a quiet grace in the way he carries himself. It does not go unnoticed. I think that if I had not allowed myself to become an embittered version of me that I would like him. I can respect a person that will take my insufferable attitude and not only brush it off, but volley it right back at me in a manner that both disarms and excites. Also, he is damned attractive. Dark blond hair and blue eyes are a deadly combination. "I'm willing to bet that, if you give it some time, you'll take at least three or four weeks before you decide to dislike me."

  There is undisguised mischief in his voice. If I didn't know better, I might think he is flirting with me.

  Except I don't know any better. I prove this by standing up so quickly that my knees smack into the end table where my coffee is resting. Was resting. One second the cup is upright and the next it is not. I watch the still hot liquid cascade over the side of the table and deposit itself directly in the lap of one annoying and extremely good looking male.

  Embarrassment fights its way to the surface but I stuff it back down. Show no weakness.

  Brady is quite good at hiding his own feelings, because that could not have felt good. Yet he says nothing. Nothing turns quickly into disbelief as I snatch my things and force a smirk onto my lips.

  "You're just going to leave me like this?" he asks.

  "Of course not," I tell him. "I'm not a total bitch."

  I toss a few napkins in his direction and I'm gone before he can see my face turn red.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I only have classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday so I don't have to see Brady today. I'm definitely feeling a lot of guilt over the way I've treated him when it seems like he is just a nice person. It just isn't a good idea for me to have people try and get to know me. It's bad enough that Elyse was in the building gym the same time that I was this afternoon. She came right over to the elliptical next to mine and struck up a conversation with me. She didn't seem to care that I had headphones on and was listening to music, she pantomimed for me to remove them. Reluctantly, I turn Thirty Seconds to Mars off and place the ear buds in the cup holder.

  "Hi, Paige. I told Garrett, that's my fiance, all about meeting you yesterday. He wanted me to thank you for helping me with the groceries and invite you to dinner next Tuesday night. He left this morning to fly back home and finish up one last client account. He'll be home Monday night. What is your favorite food? I'll make it."

  Ambushed. I felt completely ambushed by this ball of energy of a woman. That, coupled with the fact that I couldn't think of a good enough excuse for a week from now must be why I tell her I'll come to dinner. "Okay, I'll be there."

  Elyse increases her stride on the elliptical. "Fantastic! What would you like me to make? Are you allergic to anything?"

  "I'm not picky. I'll be fine with whatever you make. I don't have any food allergies that I know of."

  "I'll think of something. I can't wait for you to meet Garrett. Sorry to interrupt your workout."

  I start to put my ear buds back in. "No problem. I've still got a while to go."

  She opens a magazine. I have no idea how anyone can read while they are gliding back and forth on a cardio machine, but I'm certainly jealous because I wish I could make the time pass faster that way. Instead, I close my eyes and lose myself to Jared Leto singing about punishment, pleasure, and pain.

  The truth is, I like Elyse. She has an easy-going nature about her that brings a semblance of calm to my inner nut job. For one moment, yesterday, I felt like I was visiting a friend when I was at her place. Eerie. I deny and deny and deny every chance I get to make a meaningful connection to someone and I know it's because of her. I died right along with Nicole that night and everyone knows it. My parents knew; that's why they sent me away that time. It's why I ran as far away as I could and didn't tell anyone how to find me.

  I just wish I could find myself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I'm early to class. Very early. I couldn't sleep at all knowing I was going to have to face up to my childish behavior in the coffee shop the other day, so I hit the gym before class and now I have the nervous energy of a woman going on a blind date. Maybe Brady will be late and I won't have to talk to him. Won't have to apologize, or look into those blue eyes and try hard not to revert back to the shy little mess of a kid that lost her voice when boys came around. Boys grow up and girls become women, but I haven't changed much.

  Shut up, I tell myself. If I spent a little less time being melancholy and more time focusing on my
school work, I'd probably graduate early. And when did I get so down on myself anyway? I spent precious time learning the fine art of I Just Don't Give a Fuck for a damn good reason. Nicole would be disappointed.

  The new boyfriend lives in a small apartment complex made up of a U-shaped two story building centered around a massive swimming pool. Because temperatures have already been dipping into the low 60s and sometimes 50s, this and most pools in the area have already been drained.

  Nicole parks her SUV in a guest spot. I don't bother to take off my seatbelt and get out.

  "Come on, Rebecca. Let's go up."

  I pick at an imaginary piece of lint on my skirt. I don't want to get out of the car. We shouldn't have come here. This is about twenty minutes outside of our neighborhood and it's not the safest area. "Can't I just wait here while you say hello or whatever? I'm sure this guy would rather see you alone, anyway."

  Nicole unclasps my seatbelt. "No, Rebecca. Turner really wants to meet you. I've told him all about you and he's excited to meet my adorable little sister. Besides, it's cold and I don't want you down here all alone. I promise this will be quick."

  I acquiesce as I always do when it comes to Nicole. We make our way past the lifeless swimming pool and up the stairs of the deepest set part of the building. All the doors are painted dark red and set just a bit farther back from the brick facade of the walls. Turner lives dead center of the second floor. He must have been watching for my sister because he opens the door before she can knock.

  "Hi there, gorgeous. You look stunning."

  Tall, sandy blond hair, and eyes that could be blue or gray depending on the light, it is easy to see why my sister is infatuated with him. And she is, I can see that clearly by the way her eyes light up as he pulls her in for a hug and spins her around. It's a rare thing to excite her. He has charisma.

  Setting her back to her feet, Turner swivels in my direction and offers me his hand. I move closer for the handshake, but he grasps my hand in his and brings it to his lips. "And you're the lovely little sister. That gene pool of your family is quite impressive."

  Ugh. My teeth ache from the sickly sweetness that drips from his corny sentiments. Nicole, never the one to hold back no matter how in lust she may be, swats his behind and moves past him into the apartment. "So, cheesy, Turner. Dial it down a notch."

  He laughs and lets go of my hand only to take my arm and pull me inside. I squirm out of his hold as subtly as I can, but I don' t want him to touch me. He has all the charm of a rattlesnake. Other than his ridiculous greeting, I have no reason not to like this man, but I don't. I can't say I'm the best judge of character; I'm pretty sheltered, but my guard is up. Maybe it's the age difference? I know I'm fourteen and I should be all excited and giggly that my sister met an older guy because sisters are supposed to be supportive, but I'm grossed out by it instead. I remember reading a book about a serial killer named Ted Bundy. This guy was good-looking and charming, which made him seem unassuming to women he would meet. Then he'd coax them into a more private setting where he proceeded to rape and kill them. A sociopath.

  Turner reminds me of Ted Bundy.

  "Come sit down, Rebecca. Make yourself at home."

  I shake myself out of my dark reverie and join my sister and Turner. I know I have an overactive imagination. I'm probably just nervous about the school dance and I'm making everything into a bigger deal than it is.

  "Hello, Paige."

  Damn. I must have spaced out for a while because the lecture hall is full now and Brady is in his seat, next to me. His hair is slightly askew, as if blown by a sharp gust of wind. He really is striking.

  I nod. "Brady."

  "Spilled any good hot beverages lately?"

  Okay, admittedly I should have apologized first thing, but the infuriating smirk on his face is making me want to slap him. Or maybe kiss him. Not sure.

  No, that's not true. I am sure. I am sure that even if I want to kiss him, I won't.

  "Look, Brady, I'm really sorry about that. I didn't do it on purpose, I promise. I was in need of a little alone time and you being there was a bit much for me."

  "I appreciate your apology, Paige, but if you really wanted to be alone, why didn't you stay home? Public places don't exactly scream solitary confinement."

  "Shhh. Class is starting."

  I turn my head in the direction of Dr. Reyes, who is in fact standing at the lectern; notes in hand. I feel, rather than hear, Brady sigh in frustration and I know I've made my point. Hopefully he will give up trying to be nice to me from now on. Then I can feel like less of a bitch when I blow him off for this project and do the work for both us. He can put his name on it if he wants, or do his own thing. I can't afford to care. I try to block Brady from my thoughts and listen as Dr. Reyes talks about the group project.

  "Keep in mind, students, that how well you work with your partner is going to be worth fifty percent of the assessment. I'll be asking both of you to fill out a rubric designed to answer my questions about that. Remember, this is a course for a major in Social Work. You will need to have the skill necessary to work with people. This won't be a project that one of you completes on your own and then calls it partner work. I'm sorry, Type A's, you're going to have to let go."

  It's like I'm cursed. A condescending half smile is worn by Brady for the rest of the class.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Miss Kerimov? Excuse me, Miss Kerimov?"

  The front desk supervisor in my lobby has to call my name twice before I realize he's talking to me. A year and half and I'm still not used to that. I turn around to face him. His name tag tells me his name is Victor. Victor looks like he is in his forties and has the face of someone who takes his job seriously.

  "Please, call me Paige."

  Victor bends down and lifts the package up on the desk. "This came for you earlier by a private courier. It didn't require a signature so we allowed them to leave it here."

  The box is wrapped in brown parcel paper and it is fairly large. Like, the kind of large that could fit a human head inside of it. Yes, I could stand to be a bit less morbid. I pick it up and shake it. The box is very light and makes only a slight rustling sound. Convinced that it is not a bomb, I decide to bring it upstairs.

  "Thank you, Victor. Have a nice evening."

  He smiles. "You do the same, Paige."

  The elevator ride is soothing. I like white noise; almost any form of it can calm my nerves. I'm still feeling unsettled from my discussion with Brady in class. Or maybe it is just Brady himself that has me rattled. He's so frustrating, yet equally patient and kind. I noticed earlier that just having him sit next to me in class is kind of nice. This is not good. I do not have a crush on this guy.

  My apartment is hot. No, it's beyond hot. I must have turned off the A/C when I left this morning. I chuck my bag and the package on the kitchen counter and go to the thermostat. It is set to its usual seventy three degrees. Fabulous, the thing must be broken. I'll probably die of heat stroke up here. I place a quick call to maintenance. They tell me they will have it fixed by eight o' clock this evening. Okay, do I spend the next three and a half hours sweltering in this hot box or should I take off? I could go to the gym, but then I'd have to come back up here and shower which will leave me sweaty even after the rinse off.

  I could use the gym on campus. It's pretty nice and it has locker rooms with clean showers. Maybe I'll grab dinner on the way back. I pack some soap and shampoo in my gym bag. I find an old pair of flip flops that I don't mind getting wet; the locker rooms might be clean but I'll never put my bare feet on a public floor like that, and I'm good to go. I throw the package in my gym bag on the way out the door. I can open it later.

  I run into no one on my way downstairs and the walk back to campus is equally uneventful. I get to the gym and quickly change in the locker room. There is a Spinning class starting in forty-five minutes that I'd like to try. I sign my name on the sheet posted to reserve a bike. I can kill time by doing some ab work
, so I head over to the mats and turn my mp3 player on so that Florence and the Machine can motivate me.

  I'm listening to Florence belt out Blinding, one of my favorite songs, when I feel someone tap my leg as I'm finishing up my last Turkish get up. I open my eyes and damn it! This guy is everywhere. I flinch when I realize his hand is still touching my leg. He pulls it away quickly.

  "I'm sorry, Paige. I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to say hello, but you had your eyes closed and your music on."

  He looks genuinely sorry and I feel like a jerk yet again. "No, I'm sorry, Brady. You just surprised me."

  He smiles the first non-condescending smile I've ever seen on his face and I die a little. He crouches down to the floor so that we are a bit closer to eye level. "Are you just getting here, or is abdominal torture in the form of get ups the end of your workout? Nice form, by the way."

  I laugh and pretend I don't notice the not so subtle wink he gave me at the end of that sentence. "I just started. I was doing abs to kill time before the Spinning class."

  Brady smirks. "Spinning, huh? This I want to see."

  Ugh. He had to ruin our nice conversation. I jump up to a standing position and shove him. He stumbles face first into the mat I was just sweating on and the woman beside us cracks up. "Always a pleasure, Brady. Now go away."

  He laughs. "Sure, Paige, I'll go away right now. I'm certain that I will be seeing you soon."

  "Whatever you say."

  Brady walks off and I turn my music back on. A few more sets of crunches and twists and I see it is almost time for the class. I make a quick dash to the juice bar to buy a bottle of water on my way. I'm pretty sure water and a towel are a requirement for cycling classes. And if they are not, well then they should be. I know I will manage to sweat buckets during this type of class and I like to rehydrate and clean up after myself. One can only hope the other gym patrons will do the same.