chapter Two
When I walked into my apartment, one of my wishes came true, my freaky roommate was nowhere to be seen. I breathed a small sigh of relief as I threw my suitcase into my bedroom.
But when I went to fire up my laptop, her evil cat was nesting on top of it. Ugh. How many times did I have to tell her to keep that vile thing out of my bedroom?
I never wanted a roommate. After sharing a dorm room with Miss Perfect my last two years of college (I had to beg my parents to let me move out because they lived so close to campus), I had enough of roommates. Unfortunately, my job as a paralegal at my brother’s law firm didn’t earn me enough to pay all of my bills on my own. Of course, my brother thought he was doing me a big favor when he suggested I move in with his law partner’s sister, Winter Raven. That’s her legal name. She told me she had her named changed the day she turned 18. She said Winter Raven was a better fit for her spiritual destiny. It sounded like a load of horseshit to me. I have no idea what her birth name was and never cared enough to ask. I called her the freak because that’s what she was, and I stayed away from her and her freak friends as much as possible. They called themselves Wiccans and often stayed out all night when there was a full moon. She never wore anything but black and her hair was dyed jet black to match. She also had a lot of tats and piercings. She worked at some kind of New Age bookstore. I’m sure it was because that was the only place that would hire her looking like she just stepped out of an Anne Rice convention. Did I happen to mention Flaw 92? I’m apparently very judgmental.
Of course, Winter’s evil cat was all black, too. I wondered if the freak knew what a walking cliché she was. I shooed her evil cat from my laptop and she hissed at me on her way out of my bedroom. I always kept my bedroom door locked at night so the evil cat couldn’t murder me in my sleep. I heard stories about cats lying on people and suffocating them in the middle of the night. I knew her evil cat was definitely capable of such malice.
I fired up my laptop and hopped over to Facebook. As I suspected, I had already been tagged on hundreds of photos from the wedding. I wanted to carefully inspect every photo to see if it would bring back any memories of the events of the evening.
Okay, I was also dying to see if Brett was on Facebook. Not that I knew what I was going to do if I found him online. Would I actually friend him? I thought about it. Was I hoping for something more between us? I had never hoped for “something more” with a one-night stand. Hell, I never even thought about most guys I slept with after I snuck out in the morning. I wasn’t sure what made Brett so different but I couldn’t get thoughts of him out of my head.
I just kept thinking about the way he so carefully washed my face after I threw up. And the way he embraced me and comforted me when I broke down and cried. I thought about Brett’s warm smile and tender green eyes—and his clown hair, which wasn’t actually clown hair anymore.
And I thought about that look of disgust on his face when I left his room. Many people had looked at me with hatred and contempt, or even disappointment. I seemed to bring those feeling out of people on a semi-regular basis (Flaw 11). But the look that Brett gave me was something I had never seen before. Or maybe if felt different because the look he gave me actually hurt so much. Brett had managed to touch me in ways that no one had touched me before. It scared the hell out of me but it also intrigued me.
Before I could stop myself, I typed Brett Conner into the search screen. Of course, thousands of names popped up because Conner was a common name. I decided to look through the photos of the wedding that people had posted to see if Brett was in any of the shots and if he had been tagged in any of the shots.
I cringed when I saw some of the photos of me looking like a slut on the dance floor. I certainly earned my reputation for being a fun party girl. I was tagged in hundreds of photos. A lot of people considered me a friend although few people truly knew me. I never let people get that close, not even my parents and siblings.
I scrolled through the hundreds of candid photos that people had uploaded but I didn’t see any of Brett. My heart sank at the possibility that he wasn’t even on Facebook. I knew there were still a few hold-outs who didn’t have accounts.
I was just about to give up when I came across a photo of me and Brett. It was labeled: Beauty and the Beast. (Okay, even I thought that was a mean label, especially in such a public forum like Facebook.) In the picture, I was sitting on his lap and kissing his cheek. His face was frozen in what looked like an uncomfortable half smile. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment. It was obvious at some point I had zeroed in on him as my target for the evening. I’m not sure why or what had sparked my interest in him. I knew myself well enough to know that once I set my sights on a guy I rarely had to take no for an answer. I always got the guys I wanted. What I couldn’t figure out is why I wanted Brett? As he said, I had never even given him a second look all the years we were in college together.
Brett had definitely grown into his body and he was kind of cute. But he was still a geek, too, although much less geeky than in his college days. He still had shades of geek in him, though, a little geekiness around the edges. But something had attracted me to him. If I could just remember what it was?
My heart skipped a few beats when I noticed Brett had been tagged in the photo. He did have a Facebook account. I clicked on his name and was taken to his Profile page.
His profile photo was not flattering. It was obviously old because his hair was still a bit clownish. There wasn’t too much information in his public view. Just that he was state university graduate and that he lived in Palo Alto, two things I already knew about him.
I would have to friend him to get any more information. But did I really want to friend him - that was the question? What did I think was going to happen? What did I expect to happen? What if I sent a friend request and he completely ignored it? I had to admit it would hurt.
Then it occurred to me that I was putting more thought into deciding whether to friend Brett on Facebook than I most likely did in deciding whether to sleep with him. I had to wonder if it was just me or if it was endemic of the Facebook generation in general.
I could feel my heart beating a little bit faster when I sent Brett the friend request.
Then I sat there and waited. And waited. And waited.
Only thirty seconds had gone by and I already felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I wondered if Brett realized he was killing me.
I wasn’t sure why I was just sitting there waiting. Part of me didn’t think he’d accept my friend request. And even if he did, I didn’t think it would be instantaneous.
But it was pretty damn quick.
There is was: Brett Conner has accepted your friend request. You can write on his wall.
My heart pounded even harder when I realized he could now see everything on my wall. In my desire to see his details, I completely forgot about the fact that he was now privy to all of my sordid past activities documented for eternity on my Facebook Timeline.
I quickly jumped over to Brett’s Profile again. There wasn’t a lot there but I was able to discern a few tidbits of information.
First: There were several photos of him with another female state university grad, who I vaguely recognized. I sat next to her in an Economics class my freshman year. It was a class, which my brother highly recommended I take and I subsequently flunked. I remembered that she was small and mousy, kept to herself and always got perfect scores on every quiz and test. The tag on the photo said her name Rebecca Stiller. I clicked on her name and was taken to her Profile page. She didn’t have too much public information posted except that she was a state university grad, the same year and me and Brett. She now lived in Maryland (which would fit with Brett’s story about his college girlfriend moving to the other side of the country) and she worked for a government agency in Washington, DC. I had little doubt she was his Number One.
I studied her profile photo. She looked serious and smart. She wasn’t someone you’d immediately say was attractive but she wasn’t ugly, either. She was an average looking person with straight, shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. In the photo, she was wearing a sweater vest with a turtleneck and pearls. She seemed to be a female equivalent of Brett and in many ways his perfect match. I could see why they were together so long. In the three years they were together, I bet they never once fought or raised their voices or said a mean thing to each other. I was with Brett for one night that I couldn’t even remember and I had already done all of those things. Well, the next morning anyway.
I let out a sigh.
Was there any way Brett and I could have a relationship? I was certainly nothing like Rebecca “Sweater Vest” Stiller. If Rebecca had a complete opposite in the world, that person was me.
I went back to Brett’s profile page and clicked on his “About” section. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I verified that he was actually single. He worked as an Aeronautical Engineer for NASA. Fancy job. No wonder he had no time for a girlfriend. He didn’t have any hobbies or other activities listed but he did have a quote: When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one and a lily with the other. It seemed like a strange quote for a guy to have on his wall but Brett didn’t seem that much like a typical guy.
I decided to investigate his Wall a little further. There wasn’t too much posted there. He probably didn’t have time to use Facebook much. I did notice that he had changed his Relationship Status just this past March from Engaged to Single.
Engaged? Why did I feel like someone had stabbed me in the heart with a knife when I read that single word? Brett said he dated this ex for three years in college and they tried the long distance thing but it didn’t work. He never mentioned they were engaged and that they had only broken up a few months ago.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Then I noticed my chat box pop up. I really didn’t like to chat on Facebook but in my rush to cyber stalk Brett, I had forgotten to close it.
Brett: Hey, Anna. How are you doing?
Me: Okay…I guess.
Brett: Feeling better?
Me: Yeah.
Brett: I was worried about you.
I didn’t know whether to be flattered or run quickly in the other direction.
Me: I’m fine.
There was a pause. I wasn’t sure if he was done or thinking.
Brett: I just wanted to let you know…
There was another pause.
Brett: I had no idea you were as drunk as you were…
Another pause.
Brett: If I had known, I never would have…
Pause again.
Brett: Taken advantage of you like that. I’m really sorry.
I had to laugh. Not at the situation or his feelings about it, which weren’t funny at all, but at the fact that he felt like he had taken advantage of me. If anything, I was most likely the one who had hit on him and totally seduced him.
Me: It’s really not a big deal. Don’t sweat it.
Brett: It is to me.
I could feel a twinge of sadness in my heart. All I wanted was to have fun and I rarely thought about the consequences of my actions. But I had hurt Brett and I was beginning to understand how truly shitty that was.
Me: I didn’t mean to hurt you.
There was another really long pause. I wasn’t sure if he’d even respond. Then, he typed:
Brett: I know. It’s okay.
I could feel a teardrop roll down my cheek.
Me: It’s really not.
I waited. Then to my surprise, he typed:
Brett: Did you get an invitation to Olivia and Zach’s wedding?
Me: I’m one of the Bridesmaids.
Brett: Again?
Me: Yup. I think I get invited to be in so many weddings because I look good in hideous dresses and shine in wedding photos.
Brett: You did make that horrible dress look hot last night.
That made me smile.
Me: I’ll take that as a compliment.
Brett: You should.
He never said if he was going to Olivia and Zach’s wedding. It was in Tucson, so he would have to fly out for it.
Me: How do you know Olivia and Zach?
Brett: I tutored Zach in math. That’s how I know most of the people in your crowd.
I vaguely remembered some of the kids talking about their awesome math tutor. I didn’t pay too much attention. Even though I barely passed math, I didn’t care about it enough to even bother with a tutor.
Me: I guess you do have to be good in math to be an Aeronautical Engineer.
Brett: So, you’ve already checked out my profile. Good to know.
I cringed. I hadn’t meant to be that obvious.
Me: You caught me.
Brett: I’m flattered. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I already checked out yours, too. I love that photo of you on the beach in San Diego with your friends. Nice bikini. I already have a copy of it saved to my desktop.
I wondered if he was teasing me or if he really had downloaded the photo.
Me: Do you really have my photo on your desktop?
There was a pause.
Brett: I guess you’ll just have to come to Palo Alto to find out.
Now I was the one who was trying to think of a response. Did he really just invite me to visit him in Palo Alto?
Brett: You can also bring back my Pearl Jam T-shirt.
Me: If you looked at my Profile, you know that I’m a paralegal. I can’t afford to fly to the coast on my meager salary.
I waited. And waited. I hadn’t meant to scare him off. I just wanted to see if he was serious about wanting to see me again.
I was starting to think he had blown me off when he popped back on line.
Brett: I bought a plane ticket for you. It’s open, so you can book any date you want.
I read the line several times to make sure I was reading it correctly. He actually booked a flight for me. Just like that. But why? Was he really that eager to see me again? It didn’t seem possible.
Me: Really?
Brett: Check your email.
Me: But why?
Brett: Maybe I want to see you again.
I could feel my heart racing again. The thought of seeing Brett again excited me and scared the shit out of me at the same time.
Next weekend was Memorial Day weekend, a three-day weekend.
Me: What about next weekend? Do you have Memorial Day off? Do you already have plans?
Brett: Yes, yes and no.
Me: I’ll see if I can leave early from work on Friday.
Brett: Just let me know the flight number and when to pick you up.
Me: Thank you.
Brett: See you soon.
***
A few hours later, my roommate walked in with some funky herbs and a burner of some kind. Great! Another one of her crazy rituals. She loved to invoke gods and goddess (okay, mostly goddesses) by burning all kinds of crazy shit.
“Please tell me that’s pot,” I said as I put down the People magazine I was reading.
She rolled her eyes at me. I knew it wasn’t pot. My roommate never polluted (her word not mine) her body with drugs. She didn’t even drink alcohol. I just liked giving her a hard time.
She plopped down on the couch next to me. “Don’t you have anything better to do than read celebrity gossip?”
“I like celebrity gossip.”
“I have a bookshelf filled with novels and non-fiction books. Help yourself.”
I sighed. “Books take too much of a commitment. You know how I am about making commitments.”
Winter tossed her long dark bangs away from her eyes. It was a habit she had for as long as I’d known her, which wasn’t very long. We’d only lived together a few months. I had been struggling to pay my rent for several months and finally got kicked out of my apartment. My parents didn’t want me moving back in with them. (Not that I could blame them.) They had turned my bedroom into a hobby room when I left for college. They wouldn’t welcome me back even if they still had a spare bedroom. My parents and I didn’t see eye to eye on anything, especially all the ways in which they thought I was ruining my life (Flaw 62).
When my brother found out I was going to be homeless, he told me about Winter Raven, his law partner’s sister. She had been looking for a roommate and hadn’t been able to find the right person. Truth be told, she probably scared most of the prospects away with her dark clothing, make-up and hair. She looked like she was dressed in a Halloween witch costume every day of the year.
When we met, Winter said she remembered me from high school. I was two years older, and had quite a reputation. It would be shocking if she didn’t know who I was. I had no clue who she was but I had a feeling she probably didn’t dress like a witch back then. That, I would have remembered.
“I should probably tell you that I’m going away for the weekend.” I said casually. “I didn’t want you to worry when you didn’t see me around.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m going to see this guy in Palo Alto.”
Winter’s face couldn’t have looked more shocked if I had slapped her. “You’re going to spend the entire weekend with a guy. One guy?”
I nodded.
“How well do you know this guy? Actually, how well does he know you?”
“Not very.”
“Obviously.”
Winter’s evil cat made his way over to her and jumped in her lap. He turned and hissed at me.
“Onyx,” Winter said as she petted the evil animal. “Be nice to Anna.”
The cat purred as Winter stroked him.
“So, who’s the guy you’re spending the weekend with?”
I shrugged, trying to act casual about the whole thing, even though I was already scared shitless. I didn’t know how to be in a relationship because I had never actually had one. I didn’t even know if that’s what Brett wanted. For all I knew, he just wanted to get laid again and figured I was a sure bet. The more I thought about it, the more I figured that was probably the reason he wanted to see me again. I was actually a little disappointed even though I knew I shouldn’t be. I was easy. I had already slept with him. There was no reason for him to think I wouldn’t do it again.
Winter pushed on. “How’d you meet him?”
“The wedding. We went to college together.”
She nodded as if that explained it all when it really didn’t explain anything.
***
It was another ho-hum week at my brother’s boring law firm. He did contract law, which may be one of the least interesting things in the entire world. Even though most of the time I felt like beating my head against the desk (it would be less painful than the work I had to do), at least I had a job. And it wasn’t waiting tables. Or scrubbing toilets.
Friday morning, I knew I had to ask my brother if I could leave early to get to the airport. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to reveal about what I was doing. My brother, Jake, had a tendency to judge everything I did, which is kind of funny considering he always wanted to be a judge and that was the main reason he went to law school. He ended up in contract law because he realized he loved making money more. Contract lawyers apparently made a lot of money because my brother loved what he did.
I poked my head into Jake’s office. “Hey, Bro,” I said. He hated when I called him that, especially in the office. I had a tendency to intentionally do things like that to annoy people and try to get a rise out of them (Flaw 7: Instigator).
Jake looked up from the mass of paperwork on his desk. I guess the technology age hadn’t quite made its way completely to the Law Offices of Miller and Hart.
“What do you want, Anna,” Jake uttered in his typical clipped tone. Jake was perfect in every way. He was his high school Valedictorian. He got a scholarship to Yale and then went to Yale law school. When he came back to Arizona, he married his high school sweetheart, a Prom Queen, who is now the perfect housewife and mother to their two perfect children. They made me want to barf.
“I need to leave early today,” I stated.
That made him look up from paperwork. I never asked to leave early. I never asked for time off. I had a pile of sick and vacation days I never used. As much as I hated my job, I needed the money and it was a last-chance kind of a thing. I had gotten fired from several jobs since I graduated college (I extended the college party mentality a little too long, which didn’t make me a very good employee). To say my resume was bleak would have been a compliment and I had no references. Working for my brother was really my only option and not one I wanted to lose.
“Okay,” Jake agreed. I could tell he wanted to ask me why but we really didn’t have a close relationship.
“Thanks,” I said and turned to leave.
It surprised me when I heard Jake say, “Is everything okay?”
I didn’t want to laugh in his face but that was such a stupid question to ask his completely f*cked-up little sister. Okay was not a word I would use to describe anything about my life. “Sure,” I lied. “Everything is fine.”