ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories) (26 page)

 

              “Nope.” He said quietly, leaning down to kiss her. “Not enough time by far, babe.”

 

THE END

 

You know what I always found to be annoying? Imagining the future. Yes, that’s right I think it is only ends up in unfulfilled expectations and disappointment. Why? Well, it’s simple. When we’re younger we tend to think that when we get out of one situation, our next phase in life will always be better, things will always go our way and the issues that do get in our way will be so infinitesimal that they wouldn’t even matter. That is of course, until we get to that new phase and reality sets in. The reason that I say this is because I’m no different from the other ten million other teen hopefuls that pack up their lives hoping that college will be the key to their awesomeness. I thought moving away was going to be the key to everything that I had been missing in high school, but the sad truth was I was just as mediocre, if not more, than I was back home. There were no awesome keg parties and I wasn’t the big “sister” in some big name sorority, and I definitely wasn’t SGA material. In fact, the only real fun I had was these crazy book club meetings that I’d go to with Sharae my roommate. But wait a sec…I’m getting way ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

              My name is Miranda Marie Hartwell—Mimi for short. I’m originally from St. Paul Minnesota, the world’s coldest place both physically and socially. I came from a family of really straight-laced people. Dad was a bank accountant and Mom was a kindergarten teacher; seriously boring but great parents. Needless to say, my life was equally dull. This was mostly due to the ever-powerful social ladder that ruled high school in Minnesota. Where I come from, the jocks were the ones that ruled the schools, they and their skinny perky-tit cheerleader girlfriends were the crème de la crème and whatever they wanted they were locked down for it. Next were the band kids, followed by the theatre geeks, then the color guard, and what category did I fit into for those four excruciating years of my life?…The other category. Yup, that was me; I was one of the others, part of the outcasts of high school. Simply an uninteresting girl that got great grades but was certainly invisible, which was kind of ironic seeing as how I was two hundred and fifty eight pounds. This was the shittiest part of all because while a few people had been able to change their rung in the high school social ladder by dying their hair or wearing a super padded push-up bra, I had nowhere to socially progress. For girls like me, if you were fat before High school and during high school, then it was clear that you were going to be fat after high school, so often times no one gave me the time of day. No one cared about us bigger girls-- that was of course unless you were smart, then you were valuable until after finals.

During these four years of agony I never had a boyfriend, in fact the only guy I did get along with and had a crush on was one of the most popular guys in school. Unfortunately, that died out the night of prom when he took me out of the school gym and kissed me. The reason I say unfortunate is because after he kissed me, I was so happy and giddy that someone as hot as him was actually into me, and then that happiness was ripped out of me when I heard him scream that he wanted his money for having to kiss me. Turns out it was a stupid bet conjured up by his stupid friends as a final joke at my expense. After that I was determined that when I walked across the stage the next week at graduation I was going to leave all of that negativity of high school behind and go to college to start fresh. I decided that I wasn’t going to be the invisible girl that everyone saw as something to play with any more. In fact, I was going to start my life completely over.

I’d gotten accepted into several colleges all over the country, and a few here in Minnesota. After serious deliberation, I chose to go to the University of Southern California. The one place in the world where I thought that people loved you just because you were breathing and it wasn’t hard to be the life of the party, my goal, after all, was to be a leading expert in psychology and that was the best place for it. No one would know me or even care about the crappy life that I left behind. A fresh start, in a new environment would be just what I needed. It was hard convincing my parents that it was the best move, but I knew they would cave. After a busy summer, I packed up everything I owned and high-tailed it to Cali just knowing that my world was going to change. Yeah right; cue reality check.

        Now here I am in present day, sophomore year and I’m just as fucking sad as I had been back home, in fact to be honest, it was worse now. The first few moments that I stepped foot on this campus last year I felt like the life that I left behind had gone down the toilet and my life was destined for greatness. I had everything planned, I was going to start going to all the campus events— parties, campus functions whatever. My goal was to have my face seen and to socialize with anyone and everyone, even if it meant volunteering my time at some function sponsored by campus, I wanted new people to see my personality and really get to know me. I even had plans to lose some weight and finally drop below two-hundred in order to be healthier. If I was lucky, I would be able to meet a hot guy and get something going. Needless to say none of it happened, after I got here I didn’t realize that most of the money I needed for tuition still had to be split between paying for housing every month and paying for food. Since I didn’t have enough money, I wound up having to work two jobs just to stay afloat so that gave me no time for a social life, and as far as losing weight - epic fail. The only club I did manage to join was the “freshman fifteen”, due to all of the pizza and sub sandwiches I’d been eating everyday on my way to work. Even though I’d gotten along with people, no one knew me and just like at home, I was once again fading into obscurity.

I went home for the summer feeling like an absolute failure, and my mom tried to convince me that maybe there was some divine reason as to why I wasn’t noticed and gave me her whole speech about how good things come to those who wait. Of course that was right after she gave me a five month supply of diet pills. I hated feeling like a failure and going back home, however brief it was, it was just another reminder of how uninteresting my life was. The whole summer vacation I did the same things I did at school, plopped in front of the couch after a busy day at work and watched TV, clutching a pint of my favorite ice cream. Even now I hate thinking about that, mostly because I’m already a month into sophomore year and I’m doing the exact same thing. I’m stuck in this awful pattern, just aching to break free.

       I am back in one of the world’s most traveled states and I’m just sitting around going about my unoriginal life. So far there have been no college parties, and besides school, working was dominating the majority of my time. I couldn’t help but feel a little depressed, because every day it was the same routine and I felt almost robotic like I’d been preprogrammed to do this same thing over and over. I needed something new in my life, something exciting, and that pissed me off because that was the whole point of me moving out west so I could introduce flash and excitement, and so far – nothing. The crazy part is, I was one month away from my twentieth birthday and my parents were going on vacation, reliving the days before my conception when they were free as birds, and I am completely on my own.

Once again, me being alone was not that unusual. After all I’d spent most of my life as a loner, and the only boyfriend I’ve ever had is a four inch vibrator that I sneak from under my pillow every other night around two in the morning when I’m sure that Sharae can’t hear me. On those nights, I lie in my bed with my legs spread wide, pretending that my toy was the man of my dreams. He was always a tall man with arms that rivaled Hercules and legs thicker than tree trunks that he used to pin back my legs as he entered me slowly and made love to me sending me into a whirlwind of passion and ecstasy. I would envision piercing eyes the size of saucers and the color of rain. I would imagine that his big hand was caressing my cheek while he told me how much he loved me and then he would slowly cover my mouth so that my moans wouldn’t disturb my roommate. It was always the most amazing and tender sex that anyone could ever imagine and I could just hear all of the dirty things that he would be saying to me as he drove me to a leg quivering, toe curling orgasm. Then I would come back to reality, my eyes would open I would be alone in my room with nothing but the television on. I really needed to get a damn life. I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life, and I certainly didn’t want to be forty years old and still stuck in this rut, living life like a frumpy old maid. There was no way that I could even spend another two to three years at this beautiful campus and not take advantage of everything it had to offer, I needed to get out there. .

       Usually Sharae and I didn’t hold too much conversation, not because we didn’t get along, but mainly because I was always gone. She was a really nice girl, born and raised in the Los Angeles area, so she knew all that there was to know about California life. Sharae was also a year ahead of me and an active part of the school, a big sister in her sorority and her face was plastered on several campus news bulletins; everyone knew her. To be honest, sometimes being around her made me feel a little uncomfortable because she was so popular and pretty. Even though she wasn’t overly tall she had the presence of a goddess. Her beautiful dark skin could make any guy fall for her and her amazing tight body could bring them down to their knees. I wished I was more like her, beautiful and outgoing, but I wasn’t, so I tried my best to steer clear of her. Which is why it’s so surprising that she’s knocking on the door right now.

Oh shit, did I leave some dishes in the sink or something? What does she want?
I don’t know what I did, but she’s still standing there because I can see her feet from under the door. There’s really no point in saying I’m not home, she knows I am, where the hell else am I going to be?

              “Who is it?”
Idiot. You know who it is Miranda, are we really going to play dumb?

              “It’s Sharae, I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight?”

What?
“What?”

              “Yeah I know that it’s kind of a surprise, seeing as how we’re both never home but I think it’s time we kind of get to know each other.”

Don’t get off the bed, it’s a set up! Remember prom, remember prom!
“Um…”

“It’s kind of hard talking through a door, would you mind if I came in? Or would I be overstepping my boundaries?” That was a new one for me; no one had ever asked me that before. Maybe she’s being genuine, can’t judge every book by the cover, but I do owe it to myself to find out if this is some kind of joke.

Just do it, get off the bed and open the door.
“Just one second.”
Oh smooth move, hurry up before she walks away from the door.
I got off and the bed and straightened my clothes before I opened the door. I just have to remind myself that whatever happens, to remember we’re both people and we’ll have some common ground. I opened the door to see her face, and immediately I could feel myself falling back into my shell.

                 “Hi.”

Oh my god she’s fucking hot!
“Hi.” Her smile was brighter than all of the pictures that were hanging over campus.

“Well, like I said, I know that you’re a little surprised, but I think that we should try to get to know each other. We’ve been here for a month and I don’t know anything about you. Other than that you work all the time, you study all night, and you’re always home.”

                “Yeah that pretty much sums me up.”

“Oh my God! You’ve got to come with me to Marcelino’s. It’s this really nice restaurant that serves the best Italian food in California—whatever you can think of they have it.”

              “Um, ok. Let me change clothes and I’ll meet you in the living room in five minutes.”

“Ok cool, that’ll give me enough time to touch up my make up.”

                “Ok.” I watched her bounce on her legs and turn back into her room.

Oh My god did that just happen? Did Sharae` just invite me to go somewhere with her? In public? Okay, okay, don’t get too excited. You still don’t know if this is a set up, but you need this, so just tread lightly and put on a cute top. Try that new eye shadow you’ve been saving for two years—nope, actually keep saving that, use the old palate.

I figured I should probably wear that cute camisole mom bought me, that way I’m covered on all bases. Just in case it’s not as casual as I think, but then again, I’m not sure who’s actually going to be there and wearing something mom picked out is probably not going to work so well. After all, she shops for me in the same place she gets her clothes. No wonder people think I’m thirty! It’s bad enough I’m fat, but I have to look old too? As I’m looking through my drawers for a nicer top, I am coming to the realization that a lot of my clothes are hand-me-downs from my mom and grandma and I’m really in need of a new wardrobe. No wonder I can’t get a guy to pay attention to me! I’ve been a walking advertisement for chastity all this time. I really don’t have time to keep pussyfooting around. I’m pretty sure Sharae` is ready to get out of here.

                 “Hey girl, you ready?”

Right on schedule
“Yep, I’m just throwing on my top.” Mom’s camisole was going to have to do, for now anyway. I’ll just have to make sure to set some money aside for new clothes. Maybe it won’t even matter though. I’ll just have to see when we get to Marcelino’s.

 

*******

Marcelino’s is much bigger than I imagined. I thought it was going to be like some dine-in/have fun and games type of place like Dave and Buster’s. It’s actually pretty classy, and this old ass shirt blended in just fine.

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