When You Come to Me (7 page)

Why she cared so much, she would never understand.

Natalie only shrugged her shoulders like an impish child. “I’m just…curious…”

“Just curious?”

She nodded in reply. “Just…curious…”

He sighed. “There’s not much to her, I suppose…”

“Blond, beautiful…”

“A deadly combination in my eye,” Brandon continued. “That combination will make you do things you never thought you’d ever do…”

Natalie wanted him to elaborate, but he never did. He only stared blankly.

“Miss Natalie,” Scotty called out to her, his hands extended in her direction. Scotty had gone to the disc jockey’s booth earlier to talk with a few of his friends. “I would be honored if you’d join me on the dance floor for the next number…”

Sheepishness filled her insides, and she bashfully shook her head in refusal.

Scotty’s face fell. “C’mon, Nat, I know you got a few moves in you…”

Sure she did. The music was so nice, so smooth, so calm, so inviting. She wasn’t sure she could stand for Brandon staring at her the entire time. There was something about him watching her, studying her that unnerved her to fright.

“Go ahead, Natalie,” Brandon encouraged. “He doesn’t bite…”

She smiled. “I’ll go…if you go…”

“You’ve got yourself a challenge…”

“Just pick some random girl,” she offered. “That is, if Sophia approves…”

“Ha, ha,” Brandon said, rolling his eyes.

“I still like her, Brandon,” Scotty said, laughing.

Brandon seemed to have no trouble finding a dance partner. Natalie felt foolish. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who fell victim to his natural gravitational pull. Natalie watched as he, completely oblivious to his eye-catching status, strolled along the bar, and she witnessed more than five or six girls glare at him as he strode past, whispering to their friends who sat next to them. Brandon’s eyes settled on a blond who sat on one of the last stools. They exchanged small talk, and Brandon reached for her hand and proceeded to pull her off of the stool.

“You’re a nice dancer,” Scotty said.

So was he. Scotty Kelly lived up to his cultural hype. His movements were fluid and easy, and he seemed to have no inhibitions about twirling her here and twirling her there.

“I’m glad that Brandon brought you,” he admitted. “The last girl he brought was Sophia…and between you and me…she’s a bitch…”

Natalie felt herself laugh. She found it strangely comforting that Brandon’s secret lover wasn’t perfect.

“So, you’re the Beer Bottle Girl?”

Great, as much as she’d tried to avoid it, she still got associated with alcohol.

She nodded. She figured she would accept the nickname for the time being…

“You’re the girl that Brandon likes to whisk off places.”

Natalie quickly shook her head. “It’s not like that, you see…we’re barely even friends…”

She wasn’t sure why she had to defend herself. And she became angry with Brandon then. Had he said something obscene about her? She most certainly didn’t want to be placed in the “whore” category. She had nothing but respect for his girlfriend.

“I completely understand your relationship with him,” Scotty said soothingly.

“You do?”

“Yes…if you were some slut, he wouldn’t have invited you here…”

“That’s comforting…”

“Actually, if you don’t mind me saying…he wanted to hook us up…”

Natalie felt her heart stop. “He wanted to what?”

“He gave me your number,” Scotty explained. “I hope that’s alright. I’ve been too chicken to call, so he figured that this would be a good opportunity for us to hang out and get to know each other…he thought we’d be perfect together…”

She excused herself to the bathroom mere seconds later, pushed her way into an empty stall and shut the door behind her. She could feel the anger climb her limbs, fill her body, warm her cheeks. This had been a setup! Did he think that she could be so easily pawned off? Did he think that she was so pathetic that she couldn’t find someone of her own? Did he not know that she didn’t need anybody? Or maybe he thought that she’d give it up as easily as Jasmine had done with Scotty just before Christmas break. Jasmine still bragged about her nightly endeavors with the cute, white DJ! Did that Brandon Greene simply think that she was that easily swayed?

She exited the bathroom and Brandon stood on the other side of it with his arms crossed.

“I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said. “You make it very hard to keep you safe with you disappearing like that…”

She started to tap her foot like her mother. She crossed her arms at her chest and narrowed her eyes.

“What? Did they run out of toilet paper?”

She grumbled something indecipherable and moved past him, tossing her arms in the air.

He reached for her arm and pulled her back. “Whoa, whoa…what was that for?”

“I see why you wanted to be my ‘friend’ so badly,” she sniped. “So you could set up the Brandon Greene Dating Service for the Young and Pathetic…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Giving him my number? This whole thing was a setup, wasn’t it? This whole semester, you’ve been trying to butter me up with the friend crap so you could set me up with your friend?”

“So, you consider yourself pathetic?”

“Don’t mock me…”

“I’m not…you’re a pretty girl, he’s a good-looking guy…the connection only made sense…”

“Yes, yes, I think you’re right,” she replied. “Dating a white boy who pretends to be black, who had sex with one of my friends the same night that I met him…yes, makes all of the sense in the world…”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“All bitter and hateful and touchy?”

“Great, now you’re belittling me?”

“Natalie, look, he’s a great guy…”

“Good, then Jasmine can have him…”

And she walked away.

Scotty got so drunk that not only could he not drive his own car, Brandon and Natalie were forced to drag him the four blocks back to the parking lot where the SUV was, beneath a quiet sky, flashing lights and a frosty draft.

They hadn’t spoken to each other since their bathroom spat, which left them with the only power to give zealous, odious stares in one another’s direction.

Brandon laid his best friend, who still spouted drunken rants and laughter, along the backseat.

“Brandon, Brandon…I love you, man…have I told you that lately? I love you, man…you’re the greatest…and Natalie? Natalie fuckin’ Chandler…I love you too, girl!”

He then climbed behind the steering wheel, Natalie in the front passenger seat, and commenced roaming through the quiet streets of the city. The Pharcyde sang, “You can’t keep running away” from the speakers…

“You must have a lot of respect for me,” Natalie mumbled, her arms crossed at her chest.

“Here you go again,” Brandon replied, huffing.

“I’m just saying…why him?”

“He’s just drunk right now,” he told her. “You can’t hold that against him…”

“I can’t?”

“We’re sorry if we aren’t as perfect as you, Natalie Chandler…”

“So, this is where our friendship ends, right? I can’t rely on a friendship that revolves around deceit…”

“Then, you’ll be a lonely person, Ms. Chandler…”

He pulled into the driveway of the house on Trent road and killed the engine. “I just want to put him to bed before I take you home…it’ll only take a second…you can stay in the car if you’d like…”

Natalie shook her head. So, she and Brandon drug a passed out Scotty into the dark house, down the short corridor and into Scotty’s room. They tossed Scotty on his bed, Brandon said, “Here you go, Buddy,” and clapped his hands together. When she slid on a stack of records, he reached for her hands and wrapped himself around her to balance her.

“You’re okay,” he coached as he got her back to her feet.

She followed him to the kitchen.

“I just want to grab something to drink,” he whispered in moon-bathed shadow. “Is that alright?”

She nodded. She watched as he retrieved a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, popped it open and took a few gulps.

“There,” he said, replacing the carton in the refrigerator. “Much better…”

They exited the house together, got back into the car and as he stuck his key in the ignition, he whispered, “I know you probably hate me right now…but, do you want to go with me somewhere?”

“Are you crazy? It’s freezing…”

“I’ll make it a short trip, I promise…”

Natalie wanted to blame curiosity as the root to all of her attraction to establishing a friendship with Brandon Greene. There was an unfathomable pull toward him, as if he single-handedly held the key to all of the exciting possibilities that her college experience could potentially offer her.

She studied his face. Common sense at the moment would have told him to take her home that instant, where she could be away from him. After all, it was after two in the morning, and she wanted to get plenty of sleep, so that she could wake up and study for her test that she was certain that she would fail. However, her undying inquisitiveness told her stick with him, see it out.

She nodded, and soon after, he was pulling out of the short driveway in Scotty’s black SUV.

She rode for hours it seemed, drove for miles and miles, tracking through the night, along empty streets, through a whistling draft and silence. And Musiq Soulchild crooned of a girl next door from Scotty’s radio. There was peace around them, a certain kind that she hadn’t felt since she left the countryside, the stillness and consistency that ensued.

She was completely unsure why she trusted him. In any ordinary situation, she would be tired of his whisking her away, of him attempting to take her here and attempting to take her there. But heck, if this is what garnered a “friendship” with him, then she would accept it, right?

Brandon parked the vehicle at a twinkling overlook an hour later.

“Come with me,” he quietly demanded.

So, she did. They exited truck together.

“Here, let me help you,” he offered, reaching for her waist. She stopped his hands, said, “It’s okay, I’ve got it,” and slid onto the hood of the truck herself. He followed suit. Parked against an incline, they could see clearly a vast field ahead of them, moon-shadowed, with overgrown grass, swaying in the wind. Above were the stars in a quiet sky. At a curve in the field, they could see Athens’ lights ahead. The smell of burning wood floated in the air.

Natalie expected nothing less from him, she was sure of it. She concluded that no one else but Brandon could whisk her to Atlanta and the countryside in the capacity of one night.

“What do you think?” he asked her quietly.

She was no less than pleased, surely. “It’s nice,” she replied.

“I thought so too,” he agreed, smiling. “This is what comes with being friends with me…”

“I see,” she said. “Is this what you do for all of your friends?”

He laughed a little. “Maybe so…maybe not…nevertheless, I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“How quickly you forget,” he told her. “About trying to set you up…I just saw an opportunity and I ran with it…”

“Oh…”

“Besides, I just figured that if you weren’t dating my best friend, then I would never get to see you…we would never be friends…”

“You have my number,” she admitted. “I have nowhere to hide from you now…”

“And so does Scotty…”

“Yes, so does he,” Natalie said, looking at him. “Well, since you have my number…you can call me and we can hang out…”

“Really? You can promise that?”

“I think I can…you just name it, then I’ll be there…”

“Glad you say that,” he began. “Because I think I want to start hanging out with you tomorrow night…”

“Sure, if it involves studying…”

He chuckled. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a movie or a party…”

“No parties…”

“You’ve only been to two…”

“That’s the only two I want to go to…”

“You’ll enjoy this one…”

“Can you promise that?”

“Actually, I think that I can…”

They’d spent the majority of the following Saturday in the library, going over John Stuart Mill and his ideas of Utilitarianism, and Libertarianism and Hospers.

“No, no,” Brandon would try to explain to her. “It’s the Pleasure Principle…not this…you’re thinking too hard, Nat…just try seeing it in a simpler way…if you do that then there’s no way that you’ll fail, trust me…”

They rewarded themselves by going to the party on Jackson Avenue, in a worn brick house with dark blue shutters, and an oversized UGA flag waving in the front. As alternative music played, Natalie found comfort and common ground with Brandon in standing in a corner, laughing at how silly drunk people looked and acted. It was Natalie’s suggestion.

“You’re right,” he’d told her. “This is much better than getting drunk…did I look this stupid on my birthday?”

“Yes, I can honestly say that you did…”

“Well, I’m even more sorry than I was before…”

Natalie locked her arm with his.

Afterwards, they went back to their spot at the overlook and watched the stars. Natalie talked of her ambitions, of her fears, of who she was, of where she came from. She was a sweet, country girl, who wanted nothing more than to get her education, and pay back her mother for all of the great things that she’d given to her over the years.

Brandon talked of his future, which, of course, included a concise discussion of Sophia’s importance to him, how they met, and why he loved her so much. There was something unfailingly sincere about him, something expressive, something vulnerable. And Natalie soaked it in. In the peaceful whispers of the night, she’d learned that Sophia was his first love, that Sophia was his first secure relationship, that, although Sophia had high hopes of their marriage to one another one day, he was more than skeptical, more than fearful, more than unwilling.

And Natalie only listened. That was what she was best at: listening. She felt that listening to a friend’s woes was much more satisfying than trying to administer advice. They sat on the hood of the green Explorer for hours, it seemed, reminding her of the first night that they met. It astonished her as to how much two people could grow together in a matter of days, minutes it seemed. Natalie, who once detained a fear of the disparity between them, allowed it to subside at that moment beneath the stars.