Calm Like Home (21 page)

I’m riveted; I’d give anything to know the contents of those dreams. I wonder how similar they are to my own.

“I’m going to go, but it won’t be much longer. Just hold on, okay?”

“Okay, Adam. Soon.”

I lay back on Annabelle’s bed clutching my phone to my chest.
Just hold on.
It’s like he knows I’m slipping, that each time we say goodbye it gets that much harder to be apart. I’ve always assumed he’s handling this better than me, but maybe he’s going through the same misery, the same hell, the same absolute agony at being apart.

Chapter 21

Monday arrives and it’s speech day once again. Even though I don’t have to, I dress up a little, feeling more confident in my public speaking abilities when I’m not wearing jeans. I click into the lecture hall, feigning confidence, and find my seat. Marcus eyes me suspiciously.

“Did I miss something?”

I shrug. “I feel more convincing this way.”

When it’s our turn, Marcus and I stride up to the podium. The nerves are still there for me, bubbling densely in my chest, tying my stomach into knots. Even though he disguises it well, I know they are for Marcus as well. Aside from that, I really think our delivery is improving. Our eye contact is more consistent. We’re using the notecards less and less. I’m not quite feeling like a budding politician, but we’re definitely on our way. Marcus flashes me a thumbs up on the way back to our seats, so he must think so too.

“Get your ass over here!” Annabelle demands into the phone on Halloween. “We’re going as soap and loofah. I have more pink tulle than I know what to do with. Come over already!”

I chuckle into the phone at her costume dedication. Halloween is Annabelle’s favorite holiday and she never ceases to amaze me with her creative costume ideas. When I arrive at her apartment she sets to work tufting me in layers of hot pink tulle. By the time she’s done I’m a round puffball. The tulle barely covers my thighs and cleavage though, so apparently we’re going as sexy soap and loofah. Annabelle goes to change and emerges in a skintight, white, sparkly dress and sky-high heels.

“Why am I stuck in this ridiculous puffball and you get to go out like that?”

“You have a man. Or did you forget about Mr. Perfect?” She raises her eyebrows sassily then turns to retrieve two boxes of clear, glass Christmas ornaments of varying sizes from her hall closet along with a box of safety pins.

“Come help.”

I look at her puzzled.

“They’re bubbles. Hello?”

I burst out laughing but help her pin them to her dress. Finally we’re headed to The Berg to find Marcus. As usual, he’s manning the bar, but in place of his customary t-shirt and jeans he and the other bartenders are wearing glasses and partially open suits, beneath which are superhero t-shirts. I guess for tonight he’s Batman.

“Loving the glasses!” I shout over the bar at him. “You should wear them for our last speech. Give us an edge!”

“Definitely sexy!” Annabelle yells with raised eyebrows.

“You two don’t look so bad yourselves. Very clean.”

Annabelle asks him to take our picture. She wraps herself around me as though she’s lathering me up, and we smile for the camera. It’s a really cute picture, so I text it to Adam. He replies right away, also with a picture. In the photo he has his arm slung casually over Damien’s shoulder. Damien is wearing a black tuxedo, his hair slicked back and a cigar in his hand. Beside him, Adam is shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his waist and a bottle of Old Spice shower gel in his hand. I immediately burst out laughing.

Annabelle peeks over at the photo and nearly chokes on her drink. “Damn, girl! That’s what he’s been hiding?” She takes the phone from my hands so she can examine further.

“Okay, Adam’s I get. Old Spice guy.”

“Yeah, did you guys plan this?”

“I swear we didn’t!” Her face is lit up animatedly, but I believe her.

“What the hell is Damien supposed to be?”

“I have no idea.”

I text Adam.

Damien????

He’s a beautiful man.

Annabelle reads the words over my shoulder and we both break into furious laughter. I get the overwhelming urge to hear his voice, so I take a chance and press the call button instead of texting him back. I’m still cackling when he picks up.

“What the hell?” I manage.

“He’s basically a slacker and didn’t have a costume so that’s what he came up with at the last minute.”

“Well with you next to him, no one will even notice. I’m going to have shirtless Adam on my mind the rest of the night.”

“Are you kidding me? What about you? I never thought I’d be so attracted to a shower accessory! All I want to do is unwrap you.”

My insides clench at the thought of his fingers deftly unwrapping the fabric, slowly baring me to him. There’s nothing I want more than to feel his fingers softly caressing my skin. Without meaning to, I lightly exhale with longing into the phone.

“From the sounds of it, you want it too.” His voice is low, seductive.

“Adam, you have no idea how much I want it.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that, bear. You run the risk of making my costume very awkward.”

I giggle at the image of the towel tenting over him. “Have fun tonight.”

I hang up the phone and smile forlornly at Annabelle. “God I wish he was here.”

She hands me a green, slimy-looking shot. “I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for getting drunk with your bar of soap.”

The sight of Adam in his costume stays with me long after Halloween is over. His picture is the first thing I look at every morning; it’s the last thing I see before I fall asleep. I soak in his smile, his dark eyes. I imagine the way he would smell and the way he would taste if he were here, shirtless and sexy, driving me wild. When I get too worked up, when the distance feels insurmountable, I head to the gym and I run. I run to take away the ache of missing him, to quiet my busy mind. I run hard and fast and long, until my stomach cramps and my legs scream. Only when I'm completely drained do I slow, allowing my breathing to return to normal.

I trudge back to my apartment after a particularly excruciating session, the first withered, brown leaves of the season crunching beneath my tennis shoes. I pause by the pool enclosure, snaking my fingers around the wrought iron bars. The lounge chairs are all packed away, the pool covered in a sleek, black tarp, a smattering of leaves dotting its surface. My mind flashes back, conjuring the warmth of the summer sun, the heat between Adam and me, the passionate fire that has burned ever since. Summer feels so far away. Adam feels so far away. I can count the distance between us in days; I can count it in the miles separating me from him. I can count it in the myriad ways he impacts my day. I miss him. Plain and simple. I miss him and there’s nothing I can do.

With him gone, I do the next best thing: I text Annabelle.

I'm lonely. Please tell me you don't have a date.

What could be better than a date with you?

I head to her apartment, stopping off for some full-bodied red wine. I want something thick and heady tonight, something as haunting as this throbbing in my chest. We relax into her couch and watch reality television. I'm curious why she doesn't have plans.

“I don't know. I've tapered off.”

“What?” Frankly I'm shocked. ”But how will you find
The One
?”

She sighs and flops back on the couch. “I'm getting bored. I want something real. I want to feel
something
.”

“Feeling something kind of blows. I'm just saying...”

We both laugh and she tops off our glasses.

Annabelle meets me after class early the week of formal to take me dress shopping. I have no idea what people even wear to semi-formal. Without her help I’d be lost. She leads me from store to store, instructing me to try this dress and that. Each time I traipse out of the dressing room, she looks me up and down and then frowns.

“Do they all look that bad? I’m starting to feel hideous.”

“They’re all pretty, but none of them are
it.
”

“We’re not buying my freaking wedding dress, Annabelle.”

“Not yet.” She grins devilishly.

“One step at a time girl.”

She shoos me back into the dressing room, determined as ever.

We enter the next store and her face lights up with enthusiasm.

“This might be it,” she breathes, grasping a dress off the rack. “Quick, go put it on.”

I cast her a skeptical gaze, wondering why I need to go quickly, the dress isn’t going anywhere, but I retreat into the dressing room as I’m told. When I emerge she’s beaming. She pushes me in front of the tri-fold, floor-length mirror. The dress is cut above the knee and strapless, and it fits like a glove, hugging all the right places.

“You think he’ll like?”

I nod at her in the mirror. “He’ll like.”

She claps her hands together. “Okay then, that solves it. Now for the shoes!”

I’m standing in my room later that night, staring at the dress hanging from my closet door, daydreaming about the next time I get to put it on. I take out my bag to start packing, wishing the weekend could somehow come a little sooner. As I’m replacing its contents from my last drive up to see Adam, a small slip of paper catches my attention at the bottom of the bag. As I pull it out and unfold it, I see it’s been written on. The handwriting is unmistakable.
That little sneak!
I can’t help grinning at his covert approach. It’s so
him.
I lightly finger the paper, my eyes roving over the words, missing him terribly with each one.

Miss Alexa,

I’ll never forget, but I want you to know

It’s your laugh and your smile and the way that you glow.

No space or distance, no matter how far

I’m right there beside you wherever you are.

Those soft little shoulders, I’m picturing them

When I’m lying in bed and it’s
SO
way past ten

I go through my day and you’re everywhere

In ice cream or coffee or a girl with dark hair.

What I’m trying to say is you’ve made your mark,

And I’m still so lost for you, just like at the start.

- Adam

As if on cue, my phone buzzes and I make out Adam’s name on the screen. Excitement surges through me. Seeing his name still gets me. Every. Single. Time.

“Hey,” I breathe into the phone.

“Angel bear.” His voice is low and raspy. He inhales sharply into the phone. “I needed to hear your voice.”

“Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away. I can hear him drumming his fingers in the background, contemplative. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

His voice is anything but convincing. He sounds distracted. I wonder if it’s the semester; I’m terrified it’s something more.

“You can talk to me, Adam. I’m here for you.”
I love you,
I think to myself. I wish I could tell him, wish I could for once pour the truth out of me, but all that comes out is silence. Maybe he feels the same way about whatever’s bothering him.

“I know, Lex.” He sighs and it sounds like every last ounce of air is being forced from his lungs, it’s so long and low and dejected. “I’m just missing you is all. I can’t wait for you to come.”

“That’s what she said,” I muster, giving my best Damien impersonation, hoping it will cheer him up.

He chuckles into the phone, the tension dissolving from his voice. “Excellent work, Lexa bear!”

“But seriously, I can’t wait to come. I want to come right now,” I laugh.

He playfully groans into the phone. “I think I’m going through withdrawal.”

“Maybe I’ll have to ease you back in. I’d hate for you to OD right when I get there.”

“Let’s not get carried away now!”

“It’s not too much longer, Adam. I’ll see you soon.”

But it can never be soon enough.

Chapter 22

Annabelle bursts into my apartment early the morning of semi-formal and sets about getting me ready. She twists my dark locks around her flatiron then pins the curls haphazardly atop by head. She spends over an hour perfecting my makeup. I honestly had no idea anyone could spend so long applying makeup, but she does. When she’s finally satisfied, she extends a handheld mirror and lets me take a look. She’s applied false lashes that draw extra attention to my blue eyes and ringed them with a smoky gray hue. My complexion looks smooth and bright, my lips a pale pink. She tucks the tube of lipstick in my clutch so I can reapply later.

“I think you’re ready!”

“Uh, what about these pins? I’m not wearing my hair like this.”

“Obviously!” She rolls her eyes, exasperated. “Leave them in for the drive. Pull them out when you’re almost there. The curl will be ridiculous.”

If there’s one thing Annabelle knows well it’s hair and makeup, so I leave them in.

“Do you have everything? Dress? Shoes? Bra?”

“Geez, Annabelle. What are you, my mother?” I tease. “I’m not going to forget my bra.”

She grins devilishly. “With the fuck-me hair you’re going to have, maybe you should lose the bra.”

I reach out and hug her tightly around the shoulders. “Seriously. Thank you.”

She squeals and heads for the door with her gear, calling back, “Have fun!”

Finally I’m on the road. With each mile marker that ticks by I can feel my elation growing. It swells inside me, stirring my anticipation, melting away the dark edges of missing Adam until all I feel is light. Despite my yearning to
just get there
, I do as Annabelle instructed and pull off at a rest stop to wrestle the pins from my hair. When they are all out, my hair bounces full and soft down my back. I hardly recognize myself in the rearview mirror. She did well.