“Why is everything with you so planned?” I get up and walk the five steps it takes to reach him on the curb. He stares down at me as I speak, searching my eyes for the answer to my crazy ways. “Don’t you ever just want to live right now?”
“I am living right now.” He turns again and starts walking back to the dorms. “If anyone is living for right now, it’s me and you.”
I think I know what he means by that. We’re stuck in this weird transition of needing to move on and being unable to make the steps to do so. Our steps crunch the falling leaves, the cool fall night slaps at my face with a spray of mist. I like the rain. I’ll even get up in the middle of the night to go walk in it just so I can feel the water on my skin.
It’s refreshing.
It’s calming.
It’s also a reminder. That’s one of the only things I remember from that night. The rain. I think about that night all the time. And why Asa was there. I also think about why up until that night, I hadn’t heard from him in four years. “Can I ask you something?”
Asa nods and darts his eyes to mine. We’re walking side by side, our shoulders touching every so often. “Anything.”
Part of me doesn’t want to ask this, but I know I need to. “When you left to live with your mom, why didn’t you ever call me?”
His jaw flexes and works back and forth. He draws in a breath, his chest expanding with the motion. And then he lets the breath out, his words filling the space between us. “I was afraid if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from coming back to you, and I knew my mom needed me.”
I think about everything his mom went through and it makes me sad to know she died after fighting the cancer for so long only to die regardless of what the doctors did for her. “I’m glad you were there for her.”
Another breath, then a nod. “Me too.”
We return to my dorm. Asa walks me up to my room. I glance up at him. “Thanks for dinner.”
He searches my face and then stares at my lips. He swallows, blinks, and then finds my eyes. “I’ll gladly buy you dinner every night if I know you’re eating.” Running his hand through his hair, he leans into the wall beside the door and then drops his eyes to the floor. “I worry about you.”
I struggle with his words, the meaning, his selflessness toward me. He gives and gives and what does he get in return? Certainly not what he deserves. I fidget with the hem of my sweatshirt. “You don’t have to.”
He lifts those beautiful dark eyes to mine. “Iwantto.” What I wouldn’t give to hear him say he wants me.
“Is that why your offensive lineman walks me home every night?”
He nods, his eyes narrowing, watching my reaction. “I don’t want you walking alone, and you know that.”
Sighing, my heart drops. “Because I can’t take care of myself,” I deduce, feeling like his charity case.
Asa closes his eyes and exhales. Twisting, he presses his back to the wall. With a heavy sigh, he turns his head to look over at me. “You know what I mean.”
Nodding, I stick my key in my door. “I know. Thanks again for dinner.”
He stops me though, his hand on mine and then I notice he’s placing something in my hand.
“What’s that?” I look down. It’s Sour Patch Kids. My favorite.
I smile, my chest aching. I wish I could be normal for him. “Thank you.”
Backing away, he winks. “Enjoy. Save me the red ones.”
I want to invite him in, but something stops me. I grant myself one more glance and let the sight of him wreak havoc on my heart. He’s beautiful, sinful, and everything I need but won’t allow myself to have completely.
And I leave him outside my room. I don’t want to be his charity case he can’t let go of. I want to be more than that, but he seems so caught up on protecting me nothing ever becomes of it. So yeah, I leave the dude standing outside my room.
I sit down on my bed and look over at my iPad on the nightstand. I think of Asa, again, always. Opening the package of candy, I sort through them to pick out all the red ones and place them in a baggie I find next to my books. It’s then I remember I should be studying. I have to write a five-to-eight-page paper reviewing a journal article on any subject that deals with cognitive psychology. I knew I was going to do the paper on False Memory Syndrome. I don’t have the energy to do it now.
I look out the window. No stars, only darkness. And though I know I can’t sleep, tonight I allow myself to dream without fear of a time when I’m no longer a shadow of my past. I’m borderline obsessed with the addiction of him.
I toss and turn at night. Every night. Nothing helps. All I see is my phone staring back at me and I wait to see if she’s going to call. Sometimes at 3:00 a.m., she calls and wants me to come over because she can’t sleep. I do without question. Now it’s created a habit of sorts where I constantly wait to see if she needs me.
I look at the clock beside my bed instead.