Progress (Progress #1) Page 4

  “No. Not sentimental. I mean, I’m not an environmentalist or anything, but I like to help out where and when I can.”

  “So did you save the frogs then?” he asked, opening the door.

  I got out of the car and lit a cigarette, handing one to him. “Mostly,” I said. “I didn’t have to go door to door petitioning the locals, but I studied up on the species that resided here. I gathered a lot of information for their case studies.” I shrugged.

  “You must really like frogs.”

  I noted his sarcasm and smiled widely. “Not really. It was the principle.”

  He nodded and we continued walking toward the pond.

  “So are you some Little Miss Do-Gooder? Do you comb the local papers to see how you can become an upstanding member of society? Have you ever flown to Africa and fed the children dying of AIDS, or will you be doing laundry this weekend for a quadriplegic in your neighborhood all because he fought for our country?”

  Was he making fun of me? “Excuse me?”

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t miss a step. I, however, had stopped walking, and waited for him to respond.

  When he realized I wasn’t following him, he turned. “What? It just seems like you’re trying to save something that might not be worth saving.”

  My face flushed and I puffed out my chest indignantly. “Are you really this much of a prick, or am I just lucky? Who are you to judge which life is valuable and which isn’t? Are you saying the children dying in Africa and a wounded war vet aren’t worth saving?”

  I don’t think he realizes what he says half the time.

  “All life is valuable, Charlie,” he said, taking a few steps back to me. “But I’ve got too much on my own plate to have time to worry about someone else. That’s their problem. Let natural selection sort it out. If we don’t adapt, we don’t survive.”

  I stared out over the pond listening to the chirping of those damn frogs. The moon shone brightly above, and the stars flickered in the dark blue sky. What Jesse said certainly wasn’t false, but it made me question my entire existence. If it weren’t for my compassion, I had nothing—barely a single redeeming quality.

  “Never mind, Charlie. This night was a bad idea. I’m heading home.”

  I stood up straight, and I was beginning to think that the wrinkle in my forehead was about to become permanent.

  What is he going to do? Walk?

  He strolled past me, brushing his fingers against my hand. I flinched at the contact.

  But I didn’t think he noticed.

  It wasn’t until he was almost to the sidewalk that I finally found my voice. “Are you walking away from me, Jess?” I shouted.

  I wasn’t sure if he heard me or not, but he continued toward the road and sat down on the curb.

  Okay, enough. Just let this go. My stomach hurts and this is proving to take a hell of a lot more patience than I have at the moment. I haven’t eaten in two days, and there’s a tub of Ben and Jerry’s at home with my name all over it.

  His confliction was obvious, his mind tumbling with a mess of thoughts he couldn’t seem to find words for. What thoughts he did have words for were sharp and callous. Most people in his situation would’ve tried to explain themselves; I was used to that. I rarely had to pry information from people. There was a part of me that knew I’d consider myself a hypocrite if I left him all alone. What kind of compassion would that show?

  But I was just as confused as he was.

  He stayed on the curb, and by the time I reached my car I was only a few feet from him. His square chin and jaw lit up in profile from the streetlamps behind him. Smoke from his cigarette formed a white cloud above him, drifting away into the night air.

  I was so caught up in watching him that I ignored the first honk.

  But the second one came, and we both turned at the same time.

  “Jesse!” I shouted, but he remained calm, taking another drag from his cigarette.

  My heart raced with every second that he sat still. His feet were in the road, his cigarette hung loosely from his lips, and every swerving car solidified how reckless and careless he was.

  The white smoke swirled over his head, and he raked his hand through his hair. He took another drag, exhaling another cloud of smoke through his nose.

  Another car bellowed its horn and I ran to him, pulling him off the city street curb and onto the grass. “Are you crazy?” I shouted. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  He smiled, resting on his back and looking at the night sky. I sat silently next to him, a strange sort of expression on my face; somewhere between are you an idiot and natural selection, my ass.

  “Crazy,” he whispered, taking another pull from his smoke.

  Turning his head toward me, he had the same goofy smile on his face. “You think I’m crazy?”

  “I…” I started, but lost my words within his stare. When he looked away, the slow pressure that had been building in my chest eased slightly.

  “What’s going on with you and Adam?” he asked, completely unaware that this wasn’t the time or place to bring it up. Not to mention completely off the beaten path from what we’d just been discussing. And Adam? Good God. Why?

  “Gross.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, he is. Stay away from him.”

  I found the entire scenario to be unbelievable. He was all over the place, jumping from one subject to another with hardly any connection. He didn’t seem to care what he said, or whether his words hurt. He threw out statements that were barbed and cutting, yet he had just chosen to spend the last hour with me. It didn’t make any sense.

  “Not that I disagree with you,” I said, “but I’ll have you know that I received the same warning about you. People said you were trouble. So I’ve decided not to put stock into anyone’s word until I see for myself.”

  “You were warned about me?” he asked, looking amused.

  “Yep.” I smiled. “I was told you did a lot of drugs and hit on the underage hostesses.” I stood and wiped the grass from my jeans.

  He laughed so hard that his entire body shook. Locking his fingers behind his head, he looked at me again. “Well, those are both true, so I guess that makes me a bad guy, doesn’t it? Or you could consider the source that told you, and realize they’re not much good for anything besides gossip.”

  “Did you know that I’ve been friends with half the staff my whole life? A trusted friend gave me the information. Let me guess: you get in trouble for that mouth a lot?” I laughed.

  “Not with the ladies.” He smirked.

  I huffed. “Well then I guess I’m no lady, because I find you to be fascinatingly rude. Strange. And I just don’t think this…” I motioned between us, “…whatever this is, is going to work.”

  Just as I was about to ask him if he wanted a ride, he stopped me.

  “You give a shit?” he said.

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “You think I’m psycho, yet you just tried to save my life. Why do you give a shit if I live or die?”

  “Just because you say some harsh stuff at times doesn’t mean I want you to die. Though the psycho part is still up for debate,” I added.

  “Why?” He sat up. “No offense, but I wouldn’t care if you lived or died.”

  “You’re on a roll.” My jaw dropped. “How girls can find you charming is beyond my scope of comprehension.” I took a few steps back toward him. “Unless you’re only choosing the young and insecure ones for that reason.” I raised a brow. “Do you really have sex with the hostesses?”

  He groaned, wiping his hands over his face. Then he flipped to his knees, bounced to a stand, and straightened his shirt. “Not until they’re eighteen, Red. I won’t touch them until they’re eighteen.”

  I snorted and bit back a smile. “I bet there are hundreds of fathers in this city thanking their lucky stars for that confession,” I teased. “But if I see you cruising near the elementary school by my house, I’m calling the p
olice.”

  He ignored me and walked toward the pond again.

  I pulled my key out from the door. “Where are you going? Don’t you want a ride?”

  “Nah. I’m going to stay here with the frogs. Seems they’re a success story, and I always root for the underdog,” he said over his shoulder as he continued out to the water.

  Okay. I slouched, watching his silhouette flicker in the darkness as he took long and deliberate strides away from me.

  “You coming?” he yelled.

  I didn’t trust anything about the person he presented himself to be. I never feared for my physical safety, but there was a small part of me that feared for his. Somewhere inside of him a familiarity flickered, and for how irrational and complex his attitude, I was completely drawn to the way his mind worked.

  I considered my options. I could’ve left him there, alone with his erratic thoughts. Or I could’ve stayed, and found out a little bit more about why I was so intrigued with him. No one ever looked at me like he did, and there was a part of me that felt like he saw me for who I was and not just another number on a scale.

  It was enough for me to follow him back to the pond with slight hesitancy.

  Jess sat down on the grass and patted the spot next to him. “Saved a seat for you.”

  “You’re so confusing,” I grumbled. Yet I couldn’t help but smile at his charm, his inability to communicate, and the contradiction between the two. Hot and cold was an understatement.

  “I know, Red. Bear with me. I’ve never had a lot of friends.” He looked around the park and laughed. “But I guess that’s kind of obvious.”

  I took in a deep breath and looked out at the pond. “It’s okay, Jess.” I nudged his arm. “We can work on it.”

  We leaned back at the same time, stretching our legs out in front of us, and my hand accidentally landed on his. “Oops. Sorry,” I said, and scooted over.

  “So what now?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want to talk some more?”

  He blinked, and looked down in thought. “Nah. I’m talked out for the night. How about we smoke?”

  I smiled and handed him my pack. “You’d better start buying your own cigarettes or I’m going to think you’re using me for my Marlboros.”

  “I’ll buy you a pack tomorrow. Promise.”

  We sat there through the night. I’d thought about asking him about the drums he claimed to play, or what kind of bicycling he did. But once we stretched out and lay flat on our backs listening to the noises of the night, I didn’t much care for small talk. And to be quite honest, I still didn’t trust why he was still there with me, or what would fly from his mouth next. So I didn’t ask any questions.

  I dozed off once or twice, but the paranoia that I could’ve been snoring woke me. It was restful and serene. At one point I got so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot he was next to me.

  Yet every time I glanced over, the whites of his eyes glimmered with the reflecting water.

  “You saved those frogs,” he said quietly just as the sun was beginning to rise. The chirping was much quieter by that time, but I knew they were there.

  I smiled, knowing he couldn’t see me, and a small sense of pride bubbled inside of me. “Nah, I didn’t do much.”

  “Yes you did. You should be proud of yourself. They couldn’t exist without you.”

  I looked over at his shadowed face just as he turned his head away from me.

  “Let me ask you something…” he said suddenly, sitting up.

  I cringed. “Okay.”

  “Why are you still here with me?” he asked.

  I had a few reasons, though I wasn’t sure which answer to give him.

  When I didn’t speak right away, he added, “Because I’m not going to fuck you.”

  I shot up, sure I was about to slap him. “Well that was charming,” I snapped. I got to my feet and felt the rage as far down as my toes. “I have no intentions of fucking you either! And I’ll have you know that I’ve never had a boyfriend, never dated, none of it. So before you make any more assumptions about who I am or why I’m here, consider this: why are you still here with me? Perhaps you’ll find your answer there.”

  I tried to get back to my car as quickly as possible, fighting off the tears. Why state the obvious? No one would ever touch a monster like me.

  There was so much more I wanted to say to him, but I could never let him see how much he hurt me.

  I pulled the keychain from my purse, and with my hand shaking, I shoved the key in the door. When I heard the crunching of footsteps behind me, I whirled around to face him. My eyes were filled with tears, but I refused to let one drop.

  Staring at the ground, he jingled his keys in his hands. He appeared hurt and ashamed; that little boy inside of him who knew he’d done something wrong, but didn’t know why.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  He took a small step toward me. My fingertips went numb and I forgot to breathe. I flinched away from him and my chin quivered.

  But that time, I’m pretty sure he noticed.

  “It seems you’ve got enough problems of your own,” he said, his eyes flickering from my breasts to my hips and back up again.

  “What do you mean by that?” I whispered.

  He shook his head, then slowly but chastely kissed my cheek. “You’re a big girl, Charlie. You figure it out.”

  My hands dropped to my sides as my shoulders slouched. He walked away from me, down the sidewalk, until I could see him no longer.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie

  My nerves were shot. Eating was no longer a priority, and my restlessness served as a bundle of energy that needed burning off.

  Day after day I exercised. I’d wake and exercise. After work I’d do it again. And sometimes in the middle of the night I’d play the DVD yet again in the hopes that it would exhaust me enough to sleep.

  I stopped eating almost altogether, the only guaranteed meal being my morning coffee.

  Sleep was erratic at best. If I wasn’t in bed by midnight, chances were slim that I’d get any sleep at all that night. I’d had anxiety for most of my life, but nothing quite compared to what I was going through.

  A few afternoon shifts passed, and I still hadn’t seen Jesse. But the words he’d said continued to swirl around, festering in a cycle of What Ifs. “You’re a big girl, Charlie,” he’d said. “I’m not going to fuck you.” My mind always had a way of twisting the facts.

  It was over a week before I saw Jesse again, but there were seldom times he wasn’t in the back of my mind. The nervous energy he created fueled my need to rid myself of it. Exercise was the quickest way to calm myself down.

  I woke on a Wednesday after only three hours of sleep, showered, and dressed as usual.

  Parm and Pepp Day was the day of the week designated to washing and refilling the parmesan and pepper bottles at every table. Normally the task wouldn’t be grueling, but it required me to be at the restaurant an hour earlier than normal.

  The restaurant was quiet. Two prep cooks and the manager were the only ones there at that hour of the day. After organizing racks that held the clean bottles, I filled each one, dumping the glass containers into the bucket of parmesan and setting them on a tray.

  My stomach growled, but I paid no attention to it as the slight tremor of my hands distracted me.

  “You look different today, Charlie,” Adam said, walking through the kitchen. He held a large box that he fumbled to keep steady. “Is it your hair?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing is different.”

  He eyed me for a second too long, and I tried to busy myself with the task before me as he walked out to the dining room.

  My stomach turned again, and then a slight tickle came. It wouldn’t be long before the anxiety attack hit me in full force. I cracked my neck from side to side and concentrated on my breathing as I paced slowly from one side of the kitchen to the other, holding an empty con
tainer.

  Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I closed my eyes and let it out slowly, keeping the attack at bay. When I opened my eyes again, I stood in front of the bulletin board where the employee schedule was tacked up.

  My eyes instantly searched out his name. I felt like a total stalker. Still, taking a peek wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps knowing whether or not he’d be there that day would help me calm down.

  Jesse Anders. Delivery. Wednesday. 11-1pm.

  “You still mad?” My heart fluttered at his voice, and with my jolt of surprise, I dropped the glass container to the floor. It shattered into a thousand pieces as I faced him.

  “I wasn’t.” I took a deep breath, trying to pry my eyes from Jesse’s smile.

  He snickered and set his balled-up uniform down on the counter as he walked to the pantry for a broom and dustpan.

  “Quit making me apologize, Red. Sounding sincere isn’t one of my strong suits,” he said, scooping up the glass with a wink.

  A wink?

  I scratched my forehead, mumbling my thanks, and got back to my parmesan.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked, emptying the glass into the garbage. His demeanor was way too soothing for the way we had departed at the park. All smiles. Conversation flowing naturally. No contemplative expressions. Every quiet noise in the kitchen seemed to float away with one look in his direction. My hands stopped trembling and my heartbeat slowed.

  “You said something the other night that had me thinking,” he began, closing the distance between us in two wide steps. “You’ve never…” He trailed off and looked at me expectantly, as though it were up to me to fill in the gaps. Hell if I could figure out where his mind was going. He was a hard guy to keep up with.

  I tilted my head to the side. “I’ve never what?” I prompted.

  “You know?” he smirked, tugging at his lip. “You’ve never been with anybody?”

  Oh.

  That.

  Nothing like starting the morning with a big fat glass of awkward.

  My cheeks burned with embarrassment and I looked around the kitchen to make sure no one was near. With a shrug, I looked down and away.