Just As Much Page 8

  Turner’s Charity Slut

  I erase it and roll my eyes.

  “Creative, aren’t they?” I ask and he is looking at me guiltily.

  “This happens often?” he says.

  “The girls on my floor aren’t too keen on you,” I say smiling.

  “Yea…I am sorry, Fee.”

  “It doesn’t bother me. I have been called much worse for much less,” I say heading back into my room.

  “You should report it. Tell your RA,” he says.

  “You mean Lacey Burns?”

  “Yea,” he says, and I laugh because he has no clue.

  “You really don’t bother to learn their names, do you?” I say rolling my eyes at him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “You slept with Lacey, Damian. I heard her talk about it before,” I say, and he winces.

  “Ohh…”

  “It’s fine. I am fine. If it bothers me I will let somebody know,” I say.

  “Okay,” he says, still sitting on my bed.

  “Damian?”

  “Hmmm?” he says going back to reading.

  “Speaking of people hating you…”

  “Yea?” he says.

  “Why does Meredith hate you?” I ask.

  “Meredith Carson?” he asks, and I shake my head.

  “She hasn’t told you?” he says, and I shake my head. I hope to hell they didn’t sleep together, because she has a lot of nerve being so pissed.

  “Meredith and I went to the same high school. It’s a small town, so we know each other pretty well.”

  “And?” I say. That shocks me. Mere did not mention knowing him before college.

  “Meredith is Jocelyn’s best friend,” he says.

  “Jocelyn?”

  “My girlfriend throughout high school,” he says. Oh.

  “I never let people know what Jocelyn did. It’s a small town, I didn’t want people slut shaming her, so I just told people that we broke it off because I wanted to move on.”

  “And she did the same?”

  “Yep. They guys she slept with kept it under wraps too.”

  “Wow,” I say shocked.

  “Meredith has hated me ever since, so I am guessing that she sided with Jocelyn in the great divide.”

  “Great divide?”

  “I was student body president and I played basketball. Jocelyn cheered. We were a popular couple. When we spilt, our friend group chose sides.” Of course, he was popular. I roll my eyes.

  “I see,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Let me guess, Prom King?” I say looking at him.

  “Homecoming…” he corrects.

  “Of course,” I say.

  “What?” he says offended.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “I was popular.”

  “You’re popular here, too,” I say laughing and he just glares. Oops. I promised no jokes.

  “It’s another reason this slut thing is bothering me, Fee. I don’t want people thinking less of you, we aren’t even doing anything, not like it is any of their business.”

  “It’s how it works, Damian. You get high fived, I get shamed. I am fine, it doesn’t bother me,” I say.

  “Yea, right,” he says not believing me.

  “Believe what you will,” I say, and I go back to studying. I will have to talk to Meredith and set her straight. Although, if she is still friends with Jocelyn that might be a bad idea.

  I finally convince Damian that I am okay and to leave after he gets us dinner.

  “I could really use some alone time,” I had told him, and he took the hint. I have to get ready for classes and I really just want to be able to think on my own and not have a babysitter.

  I slept too much all weekend, and I wake up impossibly early Monday morning. I decide to take Zeke for a walk and get some coffee. I grab some for Damian too, he mentioned a meeting at eight that he was dreading, so I thought I could cheer him up.

  Somebody else beat me to it.

  I hear a girl moaning and I roll my eyes. Where did he find the freaking time? He left my room at six! And it was a freaking school night. Maybe it is his roommate?

  “Damian!” I hear with giggles.

  Nope. Not his roommate.

  I feel a familiar pain in my chest, and I want to kick my own ass. I let myself hope. After this weekend, I thought that he could change, that he was falling for me or something—but Damian likes his blondes and more of a variety in his life—obviously. I forgot the rules to my own game—if I was going to have a relationship with Damian Turner it needed to be just friends. I was letting myself cross the invisible barrier.

  But then my jealousy turns to anger. No. He crossed lines. He isn’t acting like a friend. He isn’t even acting like a fuckboy. The man just spent the weekend snuggling and caring for me like a boyfriend—the mixed messages are all on him.

  But as soon as he left you, he found someone else to be with for the night. It’s time to run. Damian isn’t going to love you, Felicity. He already sees how much work you’ll be and like the rest, he will want none of it.

  I take both coffees and head to class—I need a break from Damian Turner.

  The Invention of the Speech

  After classes, I head directly to Meredith and Natalie’s room.

  I let Zeke off the leash and wordlessly sit down.

  “Uh-oh,” Natalie says turning around from her desk.

  “Uh-oh,” Meredith repeats getting down from the top bunk.

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper, “I can’t be friends with Damian. Not when I feel like this.”

  “I’ll get the wine,” Meredith says.

  “She can’t drink. I’ve got the chocolate,” Natalie replies.

  I tell them all about my weekend and Damian’s response to the seizure.

  “He was jealous?” Natalie says.

  “You had a seizure?” Meredith says hitting Natalie’s arm.

  “What? Seizures are normal for her, Damian being jealous isn’t…” Natalie shrugs and I laugh at her cavalier response to my health issues. I love her.

  “Yes, he was jealous. And Mere I am fine. The appointment is scheduled for tomorrow.”

  “He is too confusing,” Natalie says.

  “Tell me about it,” Meredith responds, rolling her eyes. I remember what Damian told me.

  “You didn’t tell me about Damian and Jocelyn, Mere. Or that you went to high school together,” I say honestly.

  “He crushed her,” Meredith says.

  “I don’t think you have the whole story, but maybe I don’t either,” I say forlornly. How did he go from being overbearing and sweet to me to sleeping with a random chick before class? I just don’t get it. I really don’t get it. My stomach is in knots.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Damian told me that she cheated on him. More than once. He seemed genuinely upset,” I say. “But that is beside the point. I don’t care anymore.”

  “I highly doubt that Joce would cheat on anyone. He is a liar and manipulator, Fee. You are better off,” Meredith says.

  “I don’t want to give up on him. But I am not sure it is worth it.”

  “What would you say to one of the girls that sleeps with him because she thinks she can change him?”

  “I would tell them that Damian is an incredible human being, but he has no clue how to treat a woman with the respect you deserve, and you deserve better.”

  “Take your own advice, Fee,” Meredith says.

  I just nod. But I don’t want to sleep with him to change him. He is already changed when he is around me. I just want him to stay that way because he wants to be with me. I think I just need to accept that it isn’t an option.

  “Mere exposure effect,” I say, and Natalie looks confused. Meredith smiles.

  “Mere exposure effect.”

  Damian comes into my room without knocking a half hour after I convince myself I need space.

  “What’s up?”
he says plopping down on my futon and looking all chipper. But I know where he got that energy. Hearing it and knowing it happened is different than the abstract idea of it happening.

  “I have a lot of make up to do after this weekend, Dame. I think I am going to go to the library,” I say starting to pack things up.

  “Then I will come with you,” he says. “I could use some study time.”

  He is smiling and charming and my heart is fluttering and NO. FELICITY.

  “I think I need to do this round alone,” I say monotone. He looks at me.

  “What’s wrong?” he says.

  “I need to study, Damian.”

  “Nope. What is it?” he says blocking my path as I try to grab Zeke and duck out of my own living space to avoid him. It’s not like I can tell him the truth without showing myself, so I go with half-truths.

  “I think we are spending too much time together,” I say.

  “They’re getting to you, aren’t they?” he asks. I look at him questionably.

  “The rumors,” he clarifies. There is my in. I am going to take it. So, I tell the brutal truth.

  “Last week a group of guys were talking about me and said they couldn’t go near me because I was yours. The week before that, a girl you had just slept with saw us together and then proceeded to ‘accidentally’ spill coffee near Zeke. I am just not feeling it today, okay?”

  “You’re lying,” he says. I look him in the eye.

  “I. Want. Space,” I say, enunciating clearly.

  “Alright, Baby Girl. You’ve got it,” he says, clearly disappointed. He lets me by him and I get Zeke ready to go.

  “But, Fee?” he says.

  “Yea.”

  “Let me know when you want less space,” he says, and he walks out all sad and puppy like.

  Damian is an incredible human being, but he has no clue how to treat a woman with the respect you deserve, and you deserve better.

  Damian is an incredible human being, but he has no clue how to treat a woman with the respect you deserve, and you deserve better.

  Damian is an incredible human being, but he has no clue how to treat a woman with the respect you deserve, and you deserve better.

  Maybe if I repeat it enough, it will hurt less. Why does the larger part of me want to run after him?

  He listens well. I haven’t heard from him all week.

  By the following Monday night, I am moping.

  Netflix reminds me of him.

  Coffee reminds me of him.

  My futon.

  My bed.

  The café.

  Pizza.

  There isn’t much that doesn’t remind me of Damian at this point. Walking by the dining hall, I see him. He is cordial and tries to act the same but there is an anxiety in the air as we quickly walk by one another. I hate this. I want him—anyway I can have him. How desperate does that make you, Felicity?

  I am laying on the futon with my back turned and Zeke is at my feet just as depressed. Damian and he had a bromance going—and I have ruined it.

  When my door opens, a shock goes through me and I hope it is him, but I turn to see Natalie, who moves Zeke and sits at my feet.

  “Call him, Fee,” she says.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “We both know it is unhealthy for me to be his friend, Natalie,” I say going back to moping. She picks at the lint on my sweatpants.

  “He is different with you, you aren’t wrong. And weren’t you the one who made this arrangement?” she asks and I just nod.

  “He calls me and asks me to check on you in the mornings. To make sure you aren’t having a spell,” she says. I was wondering why she had been walking me to class this week, I thought she was just trying to curb the loneliness. But, that sounds like Damian. But it is exactly another reason I need to stay away. If he feels the need to make sure I am okay. To check on me. I am just going to become a chore to him. I hear Daniel’s voice running through my head:

  She is always going to be a fucking burden, Melody. It is time to cut the cord and let her handle her. She wants it.

  “He wanted to date you,” Natalie adds, breaking my concentration.

  “And how long would that have lasted?”

  “Who knows?”

  “I think we both do,” I say rolling my eyes.

  “I am just saying,” she sighs.

  “I just don’t know what’s worse, Nat. Liking him while he’s gone or liking him while he is still here,” I say as I look away. “I am just going to have to accept the fact that he doesn’t want me the same way I want him and be done with it.”

  “Felicity, stop,” Natalie says looking aggravated.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Damian would give you the world, Felicity. Don’t you see that? He wants you, but you have made it clear you don’t want him. What do you expect? Him to wait on you to change your mind? You made this deal, Felicity. He thinks you don’t want him.”

  “He only thinks he wants me, Nat.”

  “Well, he was pacing the hall when I came in here. Do with that what you will,” she says patting my leg and getting up. She pats Zeke on the head and I hear the door close behind her.

  I get a twitch in my hands. Not again. Dr. Mason upped my meds last week, and the myoclonics are still happening. But he warned that upping the GTC meds could cause them. It couldn’t be all this stress? Damian is a stress reliever in my life. He gets me, he is fun, it is effortless. I am stressing myself out more by staying away—so maybe this isn’t the healthy choice?

  Or maybe you are trying to talk yourself into it, Fee.

  I see my door open. This time it is Damian.

  I just look up at him and I feel guilty. He looks hurt.

  “I’ll start leaving by midnight,” he says pleadingly. “And we can get food and bring it here. Or I can take you out off campus. Or I’ll order Chinese, or nuggets, or whatever your foodie heart desires—can we start talking to each other again?”

  “Why does it matter so much to you, Damian?” I ask.

  He pauses and puts his hands behind his head and paces. I wait.

  “Because you matter,” he finally says. “I like us. I don’t want to lose it. Not over idiots. Or your insecurities about what I saw last weekend.” Oh, Damian, you are the idiot.

  “I don’t need your sympathy, Damian.”

  “You’re pushing me away, Fee. Because I care. And that’s bullshit.”

  My heart breaks and melts and breaks and melts. Maybe there is hope in this—you’re an idiot, Fee.

  “Alright. Stop pacing, kitten,” I say, and he visibly relaxes. He isn’t making sense to me. If he wants me so bad, why not stop the blondes? Because you wouldn’t be enough.

  He sits down and we watch Grey’s, he snuggles close to me and my skin scorches, but I sit here and let it happen, trying not to make a big deal about it. That I am good at. I can do this. I can at least act like this isn’t affecting me.

  Damian is an incredible human being, but he has no clue how to treat a woman with the respect you deserve, and you deserve better.

  Home Life

  On Fridays, Damian and I have a tradition of getting coffee at the union before heading to the library—he will leave me to go party at seven or so.

  “Anyway, she tried to hit me up again, and that is definitely not happening. Her breath was rank,” he says. I’ll admit, I only hear half of what he is saying. I have learned it is better for my own well-being to ignore his stories about the girls he has slept with. But this time I am a little more zoned out than usual, because my phone is making a noise that I hate—Daniel is texting me. He has his own tone, mostly so I know not to ignore it, or he gets pissed.

  The stuff you wanted is at the house. Get it by four or you’re not getting it, I have to work.

  I had asked Mel for more of my wintery clothes. It’s been a warm November, but all of a sudden, the weather is getting cold fast. Daniel won’t even let me in the house unsuperv
ised. It’s not your home, anymore, Fee. It’s theirs.

  Still it pisses me off. I bought all my own clothes. I babysat. I worked. I made sure the only thing they paid for was food, medical bills, and lodging. Those clothes are mine.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Damian asks looking me up and down. I ignore him and answer Daniel.

  I will be there as soon as I can.

  “Nothing, my brother-in-law just wants me to go over,” I say drinking the mocha he got me. He always brings me the fancier coffees because he knows I like them and that I won’t splurge.

  He looks at me with an air of expectation. I don’t talk about Mel and Daniel. I know he has been dying to know more about my past since the seizure weekend, but I don’t feel like giving him any more of me than he is already taking just by being in the room.

  “Oh, you don’t go over there very much do you?” he asks. I don’t. Although, how would he know? We typically don’t hang out on Friday nights and Saturdays, so maybe he assumes I visit on the weekend during his escapades.

  “No. I avoid it when possible, but I have to pick up my heavier clothes.”

  “Ahh, want me to Uber there with you? Help you carry?” I can tell based on our last conversation that he is worried about me seeing Daniel, but he is overexaggerating.

  “You don’t have to, it’s not much,” I shrug.

  “Fee, you can’t carry much and lead Zeke. Let me help you,” he says.

  “Um, sure, I guess,” I say. It will be nice to have a buffer, maybe Daniel will lay off my back.

  “But we have got to go, he isn’t exactly patient,” I say and Damian gets up and extends an arm.

  “I thought that we could watch a movie tonight?” he says as we walk to the nearest street.

  “Really? Aren’t you going out tonight?”

  “Nah, Matt has an event at the Shrine Club and he asked for help setting up in the morning.”

  “Huh, okay. A movie sounds good.”

  I get us an Uber, messaging the driver to let them know about Zeke before they try to argue with me about having a dog. I have gotten Uber drivers that hate having him there and I am not in the mood to fight or report someone today. We get in and head to the house. Daniel is well off, an attorney at a bigger firm, so the house is nice—so Home and Gardens that it seems unreal that I spent seven years of my life here. However, by the end, Daniel always made sure I knew none of it was mine. This place wasn’t home, it was an ordinate prison. I feel myself starting to shut down as we get closer to their place. Damian is making small talk with the Uber driver and I am staring out the window, petting Zeke