Absolute Beginners (Absolute #1) (28 page)

“Oh, that’s even better. She’ll fall for you, Stephen,” Shawn said with conviction, smiling at me. “How could she not?”

I returned the smile, praying that he was right.

* * *

After brunch I stopped by a florist and looked around at their selection.

“Can I help you find something?” the lady behind the counter asked me.

“If I pick out some flowers, can you make them into a bouquet?” She nodded and smiled. It wasn’t the first time that I’d bought a woman flowers, but usually I would just choose a ready-made bouquet. I hadn’t ever made one myself. I started grabbing whatever I thought Julia might like. Some pretty pink flowers that reminded me of the color of her lips, some purple ones that smelled incredible, just as she always did, and some white ones with silky soft petals, like her skin. I kept picking out flowers whenever I found one that made me think of her and finally handed all of them to the florist, who gave them a dubious look.

“Are you sure these are the ones you want?” she asked gently.

From her expression I could tell that I was probably committing what would be considered a major faux pas in the world of floral arrangements, but I didn’t care.

“I’m sure,” I said confidently and watched as she turned them into a bouquet.

When she held it up for me to see I smiled. It was Julia in floral form. Seemingly mismatched colors and shapes that became beautiful when you put them all together. Julia was anything but ordinary, color-coordinated, and safe. She was wild, passionate, and bursting with life, just like the bouquet. It was perfect for her, and she was perfect for me. I paid and didn’t even care about the ridiculously high price. I just hoped that it would make her smile. I gave the woman Julia’s address and enclosed a card with the bouquet.

“Dear Julia, thank you for forgiving me. I miss you and I cannot wait to see you on Tuesday. Sincerely, Stephen.”

I wanted to write “Love, Stephen,” but I knew that I couldn’t do that. I left the shop feeling much better and I hoped that Julia would call or text me when she got the flowers the next day.

But she didn’t. The weekend passed without a single word and she didn’t update her Facebook page, either. To say that I was miserable would have been a gross understatement. I didn’t understand what she was thinking and doing. Did she enjoy torturing me? Why would she kiss me passionately one night and then ignore me afterward? I didn’t understand at all.

On Tuesday I was excited and anxious to finally see her, but she didn’t show up for class. I tried calling her after I returned home, but it went straight to her voicemail. I flopped down on the couch, feeling frustrated, angry, and most of all hurt. For the first time in years I felt moisture beginning to pool in the corners of my eyes and I wiped them angrily.

You’re a grown man, for God’s sake
.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the pain in my chest, until I finally curled up in a ball and fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up when I heard the doorbell ringing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, surprised to see that it was almost dark outside. I had slept for several hours. I walked to the door and the second I opened it I was attacked. Warm, soft lips pressed against mine, kissing me hungrily, and small, eager hands explored me all over. It took me a second to register that Julia had practically jumped me in my hallway.

What is she doing?

“Julia! Julia!” I choked out between frantic kisses.

She pulled back for a second and I caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were red-rimmed and teary. She launched herself at me again and her hands were everywhere.
Everywhere
.

Oh God, I have to stop. She feels so good, but something’s wrong
.

Somehow, I found the strength to gently push her off me. She groaned in frustration and whirled away from me, stomping inside my apartment. I was temporarily stunned and needed a minute to collect myself before I followed her into the living room, where I hesitated to approach her. She stood with her back to me, smoking a cigarette. I didn’t say anything about it; frankly, I couldn’t have cared less in the moment. Something was clearly going on with her. I noticed that she was wearing a black dress, much more conservative than her usual style, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looked different than I’d ever seen her.

“What’s wrong?” I finally plucked up the courage to ask.

“What makes you think anything is wrong?” she shot back, taking another angry pull of her cigarette.

“You’re smoking. You only smoke when you’re partying or if you’re upset about something.”

“You think you know me just because I let you fuck me a few times?”

I inhaled sharply. How could she be this cruel to me? Then, her shoulders slumped and I noticed her hands were shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t know why I said that. I should go.”

She turned to walk past me, but I held onto her shoulders and made her look up at me. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she looked like she hadn’t slept since I saw her last.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I just…”

She brushed past me into the kitchen, where she held her cigarette under running water before she threw it in the trash.

“Look, are you going to fuck me or not?” she asked.

What? I can’t, not like this
.

“Julia.”

“Are you?” she asked impatiently.

“No, but—”

“Then there’s no reason for me to stay!” she exclaimed, and headed for the hallway.

No. I am not letting her leave like this
.

I grabbed her hand, mentally preparing myself to get thrown down like last time, but she simply stopped, hanging her head. I held her hand gently and felt it tremble in mine as she stood with her back turned to me.

“Please,” I whispered.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I was begging for. That she would stay? That she would let me in? That she would let me love her? All of the above?

“Please,” I said again a little louder, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Her shoulders trembled and I realized that she was crying. She was crying, and it broke my heart. Without another thought I pulled her to me and enveloped her in my arms. Loud, gasping sobs shook her body as she leaned against me.

Oh God, what should I do? What do I say?

I had never comforted a crying woman before and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I had no idea what had happened to her. She didn’t look physically hurt, at least. I gently stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I whispered. I didn’t know if those words brought her any comfort, but I hoped she understood that I was here for her. She pulled away, and I was scared that she would leave.

“Do you want something to drink?” I offered.

Please say yes, please say yes
.

She nodded and I hurried into the kitchen. I was unsure what I should serve her. Alcohol didn’t seem like a very good idea.

Think. She’s upset and needs something comforting
.

Inspiration hit me and I started to pull things from the fridge and freezer quickly. I found her in the living room again and handed her the tall glass, which she eyed, frowning.

“What is this?” she asked, turning it in her hand to inspect it.

“Um, it’s a, uh, a black cow?”

“A what?”

“It’s a root beer float. You know…with ice cream,” I explained. She gave it another long look before taking a drink from the straw.

Oh God, I hope she likes it
.

“This is good,” she said, sniffling a little. “Why did you make it for me?”

“My mom used to make them when I was upset,” I confessed. “You know, when I was little.”

Her eyes watered again and I immediately regretted telling her, although I didn’t know why she was crying. I took the glass from her and put it on the coffee table, as though that would somehow make her less sad. She stood in front of me, looking like she was two seconds away from either jumping me again or sprinting to the door. I wasn’t interested in either, so for once I took the lead and ushered her over to the couch where we sat down next to each other.

“Why weren’t you in class today?” I asked cautiously.

“I had to be somewhere,” she said. “I’m sorry I missed it—and our talk afterward.”

“That’s OK. Are you all right?”

“Why do you care?” she asked.

Because I love you
.

“I…just do.”

She turned her head to look at me for a second and wiped away a tear. “Yeah, I’m all right,” she sighed.

I looked down at her hands resting in her lap, and saw that her nails were bitten down to the quick. What had happened to her? I realized that I would have to drag every answer out of her if I wanted to know anything.

“Where did you go today?”

She sniffled again and blinked a few times. “A funeral,” she whispered.

Oh, no
.

I reached over and took her hand gently in mine.

I’m here, Julia. I’ll be here for you
.

I didn’t know if I should ask her who the funeral was for. Would that be too forward of me or would it be impolite if I didn’t inquire further?

“It was my grandfather,” she said before I could ask.

“Oh Julia, I’m so sorry,” I said softly, grasping her hand a little more firmly.

Her gaze traveled down to our joined hands and without warning she yanked hers away from mine before jumping off the couch. Even with her back turned I could see that she was upset. She was breathing faster and clenching her fists at her sides.

“I don’t even know why I’m this fucking upset about it!” she suddenly yelled.

I stood up and put my hands on her shoulders cautiously. She flinched at my touch but at least she didn’t pull away.

“I mean, it’s not like I’ve really lost anything,” she mumbled, mostly to herself.

“Was he…sick?” I asked.

She let out a bitter laugh. “He was probably in better shape than I was. But his mind…” She took a shaky breath and I felt her tremble again. “He…he didn’t even…I was his…and he didn’t even,” she sobbed.

I couldn’t make out the meaning of her words. She was crying again. I tried to turn her around but she wouldn’t move. Instead, she picked up the book that I had been reading earlier and hurled it across the room with an angry yell.

“He didn’t even know who I was, Stephen!” she cried and spun around into my arms. I picked her up and sat down on the couch with her curled up in my lap. Her body shook with sobs and she didn’t say anything for a long time. I held her tightly and stroked her hair and it seemed to calm her a little. She felt so tiny and fragile in my arms, almost like a child. While I was beyond willing to have her stay here tonight and take care of her in her time of need, I was sure there were people waiting for her.

“Julia,” I murmured softly. “Do you want me to take you back to your family? Your parents?”

“They’re dead,” she said in a monotone.

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Julia, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“That’s OK. You didn’t know,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Siblings?” I asked, almost afraid of hearing the answer.

“No, it was just me and Pop.”

No family at all?

“Now it’s just me, I guess,” she whispered. “I can go to Megan and Sophia’s if you want me to leave.”

“No!” I said immediately, tightening my hold on her. “Please stay. I don’t want you to go. I just thought you might like to be with…you know…”

Don’t say “family”
.

She sighed. “I know we don’t usually do this, but…”

“But what?” I asked.

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asked, so quietly that I could barely hear her.

“Of course,” I said, running my hand up and down her back. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Stay forever
.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Do you need anything?” I asked. “Can I do something?”

I felt so helpless and I didn’t know how to make it better for her.

“I’d like to get out of this shitty dress,” she mumbled. “I hate it.”

“Um, would you like a bath first?” I asked. “You can borrow something to wear afterward.”

She nodded and crawled off my lap. I led her into the bathroom and showed her where I kept the towels before I went into my bedroom and found a pair of pajamas. After a few minutes I knocked on the door and walked in to find her sitting in the tub with her arms curled around her bent legs, soaking in the water. She was so tiny and my heart ached her for.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Did you have dinner?”

She shook her head.

“Lunch?”

“No.”

“Julia, when was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday…maybe. I’m not hungry.”

“I’m making you something,” I said firmly.

“OK,” she said, nodding her head. I was happy that she didn’t argue with me.

“Just come out whenever you’re ready, all right?” She nodded again and I turned to leave.

“Thank you, Stephen,” she said quietly.

I gave her a smile and then left to give her some privacy. In the kitchen, I decided to make a simple pasta dish. It was quick and I knew that she liked Italian food. I was exceedingly happy that she had decided to come here in her time of need and that I was able to take care of her. I made a few calculations in my head while I was cooking, and came to the conclusion that her grandfather must have died sometime Saturday since I had seen her on Friday at the club. I wished that she would have called me when she found out, but I hoped that she had at least been with Megan and Sophia the last few days. I hated the thought of her going through all of this on her own.

I had just finished making dinner when she came out of the bathroom, looking skittish and out of place, wearing my pajamas that were so big on her she had to roll up the pant legs several times to avoid stepping on them.

“Thank you for the clothes,” she said, shifting her weight.

I gave her a smile, hoping it would ease her nervousness. I didn’t want her to feel awkward around me, even though things were so different than she was used to right now.