Read Beautiful Tragedy (A Standalone Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Alycia Taylor
“I’m not a big fan of the car either. I mean, I’m okay
with sitting in it to go from point A to point B and back again. But would I
drive three hours to see one or more? It’s doubtful, even for love.”
Brock laughed. “That’s what I like about you. You’re
honest to a fault, even if it goes against the social norms.”
“Are you saying I often go against the social norms?”
I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or insulted. Was he saying I wasn’t
socially normal? It’s true in a lot of ways, but if that’s what he’s saying,
shouldn’t I be insulted?
“You know what I mean. Peer pressure and all of that.
I like it that you’re not one of those girls who thinks you have to be in a
sorority and talk and dress and act just like every other girl your age. It’s a
good thing.”
“Okay,” I told him. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“So what are we going to watch?” he asked me.
“What do you have?” I asked him.
“Since we watched Benny and
Joon
,
I guess I don’t have to be embarrassed of my Johnny Depp obsession. I have
pretty much everything he’s ever been in. And I have lots of Robert
DeNiro
; I like him too. I’ve got all of the Fast and the
Furious movies, but if you don’t like cars…”
“I didn’t say I don’t like cars with Paul Walker and
Vin Diesel in them,” I told him with a grin.
“Johnny Depp it is then,” he said with a grin of his
own.
“Johnny Depp in a car is good too,” I told him. “Oh! A
pick-up. I like Johnny Depp in a pick-up. Do you have Gilbert Grape?”
“What kind of Johnny Depp collector would I be if I
didn’t have
What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
?”
he said.
“A poor one,” I told him, honestly.
He laughed again and said, “There it is…that brutal
honesty again. Do you want anything to eat or drink before I start it?”
“What do you have?” I asked him. Again, the level of
comfort I was beginning to feel here was a little bit over the top for me.
He went over and opened the fridge. “I have apple
slices, I have bananas, I have raspberry parfait yogurt; Jake hates the fact
that it’s in our fridge so if you eat it, you’d be doing us all a favor.”
“Why does he hate it in there?” I asked him.
“Because he’s a homophobic weirdo. He had a friend of
his over playing X-box the other day and he was embarrassed because the guy saw
it in the fridge when he went in for a beer.”
“Huh! That’s terrible!” I said in a mock-terrified
voice. “What if he tells everyone that Jake eats pink yogurt?”
Brock pulled two out and two bottles of water. He
closed the fridge door and got two spoons before he said, “Yes, luckily for his
manly reputation, he is a fast-thinker. He told me that he said they were Meg’s.
I asked him why he didn’t just tell him they were mine and he said, and I quote,
“I don’t want him to think my roommate is gay, dude.”
He had Jake’s voice so down pat, it was hilarious. He
handed me the yogurt and the spoon and I thanked him and then he turned on the
movie. We sat back into the couch eating our “gay” yogurt and watching
What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
. When I
finished my yogurt he reached for the cup to throw it away and his fingers touched
mine. It was just a little brush, finger-on-finger. But I got this thrill, like
a little electric jolt or something. It was so weird. I have never been this
weird over a guy before. Maybe it was my new medications. I’ll have to ask the
doctor about that next time I go.
Brock sat back down and this time he kind of slouched
so that his face was even with mine, and he was kind of leaning towards me. It
was nice, and it made me nervous at the same time. It would be the perfect
position to go in for a kiss.
“So what is it you like about this movie?” he asked. I
realized I was still looking at him and not at the movie. I supposedly don’t
want this guy to kiss me, yet here I am, staring at him like I’m waiting for
it. I looked back at the screen. It was at the part where Leonardo DiCaprio
climbs the water tower and Gilbert has to talk him down.
I looked back at Brock. I knew what I liked about it,
but I didn’t want to sound too sappy when I said it. Finally, I said, “It’s one
of those movies that just brings home that no matter how screwed up your family
is…you still love them. You’ll still stand up for them and fight for them, no
matter how much they drive you crazy.” He was looking at me again with those
blue eyes. I know that it’s really me that’s not being fair. What was he
supposed to do, look at me with someone else’s eyes?
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he said. “My
family is pretty weird and screwed up, but I’m the only one that’s allowed to
say so.”
I knew what he was talking about. “My family consists
pretty much of me and my grandmother,” I said, “But if someone talks crap about
grandma I will go bat crazy on them.”
He laughed at that. “Bat crazy?” Now he was making fun
of me, but in a cute way.
“Yeah, have you ever seen a bat try to fly in the
daylight?” I asked him. I was just giving him more ammunition, I know. I
couldn’t stop myself though.
“No,” he said, still amused.
“They fly into walls and whatever else is in the room.
They’ll beat themselves into a closed window until they’re bloody. It’s really
interesting to watch.”
He raised his eyebrows then. I know he’s rethinking
that kiss now. I’ve shown him how weird I really am. “So you’ve tried this?” he
asked. Now he was picturing me trapping bats and setting them loose in the
house to see what they’d do.
“Not on purpose,” I told him. “We used to have this
old shed out in the back of our house. There was a bat nest in there, but I
didn’t know that. I used to sleep with my bedroom window cracked a little bit
and one night Count Dracula flew in. I thought it was a bird, until I turned on
the light. Then he really freaked out. He was squeaking and running into
things, and I was screaming. Grandma came running with her own bat…the
Louisville Slugger kind. It was a whole ordeal.”
“And there you have the explanation for your “bat
crazy” saying,” he said it with a grin.
Yeah, he’s over the kiss now, I’m sure.
“I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“Your grandma had a “bat” too right? Maybe that’s what
the saying means…that she went “bat” as in Louisville slugger…crazy. You know
like in the Carrie Underwood song where she takes the Louisville Slugger to
both headlights?”
It’s funny I think how, as a musician, he relates so
many things back to music.
“Are you calling my grandma crazy?” I asked.
“I would never,” he said. “You just told me she owns a
bat and she’s not afraid to use it. I’d never call her crazy.”
“You would be a smart man not to call her that to her
face. Grandma’s a pretty tough old cookie. She is a little bit crazy though,
and please don’t ever tell her I said that.”
“Scared of her a little bit?” he said with a grin.
I shrugged, “She does have a bat.” He laughed again. I
have to admit, and I know that it’s weird, but I like that he laughs at my
corny jokes. In reality, it should make me question his intelligence. I can
come up with some doozies. I guess I always laugh at his too. I remember that
first night I met him, promising myself I wasn’t going to be one of those
giggly groupie girls. I guess laughing at all of his jokes was just as bad. He
is a pretty funny guy, and it’s not always so much what he says, as it is the
way he presents it.
We both looked back at the movie then. I watched as
Gilbert and his friend tried to fix the floorboards under where Mama sits
everyday so that the whole floor wouldn’t cave in. They do it quietly though,
trying not to alert Mama. It’s one of those parts of the movie that reminds you
to love your family, unconditionally.
As I stared at the movie, I could feel him looking at
me every now and then. I’m pretty sure that he’s planning on going back in for
the kiss tonight. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning. He was
overthinking it. I thought, “Just do it.” Then I remembered that I didn’t want
him to do it. That wasn’t true either though. I did want him to. I wanted to be
normal and have a boyfriend that I cared about and knew without a doubt that he
wouldn’t walk out on me as soon as I needed him most.
Unfortunately, I’m not normal. Not the kind of normal
he would get if he dated one of the five thousand or so other females at the university.
I still wonder why he’s with me, when he could probably have all five thousand
of the others.
Just as I had that
thought, he came in close. He was going for it. I saw it coming and I was
millimeters from leaning into it. What could it really hurt if I just gave him
one little kiss? I started to lean into him and close my eyes before I regained
my senses and pulled back. It was obvious, and abrupt. I couldn’t tell if the
look in his eyes was hurt or embarrassment. It wasn’t my intention to embarrass
him. Either way I felt bad.
He sat up straight on the couch and said, “I’m sorry,
Molly. I just got caught up.”
I knew what he meant. It was like the other night at
the haunted train ride. It had just been the two of us, and it was dark and
raining. I got caught up in the heat that was coming from his body, the
beautiful way he was singing Aerosmith in my ear. The moonlight was probably
partially to blame that night as well. I was so close to kissing him. Five more
minutes would have done it, and as I think about it now, I almost wished I’d
had the opportunity to go through it that night, before I over-thought it…like
I was doing right now. I didn’t want him to be sorry. I wasn’t ready to say
that I didn’t ever want it to happen.
“Don’t apologize,” I told him. “I’m just not ready,
Brock. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He didn’t look amused any more. I had taken
the amusement out of his pretty blue eyes. I felt really bad. “I’m sorry,” I
told him again.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said.
“I’m here all the time. We’re together a lot lately,
and then I tell you I don’t want to get involved…”
“You’ve been honest with me from the start, Molly. I
knew within an hour of meeting you that you didn’t want to get into a
relationship right now. You’re just so pretty and so smart and funny and on and
on and on,” he said. “I’m extremely attracted to you, Molly. But I also like
being your friend, a lot. I don’t want to mess that up. I won’t pressure you, I
won’t try to kiss you anymore…not unless you tell me that you’re ready, okay?”
Damn! He really does fight dirty. He thinks I’m
pretty, and he is apologizing for trying to kiss me. I think there are millions
of women out there who would call me eighty kinds of crazy for not wanting to
be with this guy. They’d probably stone me in the streets.
“Okay,” I said. I suddenly didn’t know what else to
say. I couldn’t backtrack now and say, “Oh what the heck, kiss me.” I couldn’t
do that, but don’t think I didn’t give it some serious thought.
We turned our attention back to the movie. It was a
little awkward now. I knew he was embarrassed and he knew I was feeling guilty
for saying no. Somewhere along the way I shivered. It was a very slight shiver,
and I didn’t say anything about being cold. I was, but it was his apartment. I
wasn’t going to say so.
He excused himself right after the shiver, and he went
down the hall and came back with a blanket. This guy was something else, and
those women would be right, I must be eighty kinds of crazy. That was my last
conscious thought before I fell asleep. I guess the blanket put me over the
top…
CHAPTER
TEN
BROCK
I woke up sometime during the night. I wasn’t sure
what time it was. The movie had gone off and it was too dark to see the clock.
I started to sit up to grab my phone when I suddenly realized that Molly’s hair
was tickling my nose. I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes to the dark. I
could finally make out her pretty face. She was lying on my chest, and with
each breath I took, I could see and feel her chest rise and fall, and I admit,
I smelled her hair. I had wanted to do it all night, but I think it might make
women a little uncomfortable for a guy to just stick his nose in her hair.
Besides, she hadn’t let me kiss her. Smelling her hair after that would have
just been weird.
I honestly couldn’t remember going to sleep though. As
nice as this was, and as much as I liked it, I sincerely did not plan it. We
were watching the movie after I had embarrassed myself by going in for the kiss
and she was really quiet. I thought maybe she was just uncomfortable because of
the whole kiss thing at first, but then I realized that she was asleep. I did
take her head and lean it over on my shoulder softly. I had the most honorable
of intentions though. I didn’t want her to wake up with a kink in her neck.
Then I must have fallen asleep, and then we must have just stretched out. We
were laying on the couch with me on my back and her alongside me with her head
on my chest now. I panicked a little. The last thing I want her to think was
that I staged this and I’m some kind of pervert. I can be, but that wasn’t what
this was about, I swear.