“Pictures!” my mother interrupts. “I need some pictures first.”
Natalia releases her arms and groans. “You get one.”
My mother manages to get seven, and when she’s satisfied, we head out.
“Are you meeting some of your friends?”
She stares out the window. “Amelia will be there.”
“Oh, good.”
“She has a date, though.”
My eyes widen. Since when did eleven-year-olds date?
“Meh, you’re too young to date anyway. Boys should still have cooties at your age.”
She turns toward me and grins. “Oh, they do. Girls just don’t mind anymore, I guess.”
“Hmm…well, you could always ask a guy to dance with you.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
I reach over and pull her hand into mine. “It will, Shorty. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not anytime soon. But some day. You’re going to have guys waiting in line to dance with you.”
“Well, if that’s true, you better tighten the deadbolts.”
“No worries. I’ll just leave my rifle out in plain view.”
“You don’t have a rifle.”
“I could.”
“But you don’t.”
“Fine. I could get one, though.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She laughs.
I pull up to the school and watch as students fly out of cars all over the parking lot. They’re all dressed up, much more than I ever did at their age, but I guess times have changed.
“Have fun, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
“Call me if you want me to come get you early. All right?”
She opens the door and steps out. “Fine.”
“Bye!” I call out as she slams the door.
And just like that, she’s walks away and joins the rest of the students flocking to the door.
Red, pink, and white decorations cover the doors and windows of the school. It looks like a scene from the eighties and all I can do is smile at the memories of my previous Valentine’s Days.
Before Jen, I never even acknowledged the stupid day. After Jen, I drank until the memories were a blurry reminder. I’d go out with the guys, pick up a chick, and bring her home. Of course, she thought it meant we were going to be a couple and have a future, but I made sure to clear that up by morning that there wouldn’t ever be a chance of that happening.
I settle in with a beer and movie. Just as I kick my shoes off, my cell rings.
It’s Natalia.
“Shorty. Everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Then what is it?”
“I-I just wanted to tell you thanks again.” I hear the giddiness in her voice, and I can’t stop the proud smile that forms on my face. “I’m really glad you made me go.”
A sense of pride overwhelms me. This whole time I’d fear I was somehow screwing this up. I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, but this gives me a little validation that it’s in the right direction.
“Anytime, Natalia. I’m glad, too.”
“I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Sounds good. Have fun.”
We hang up, and I gladly stay in all night waiting for her call.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ASPEN
“This is the dumbest holiday of the year,” Zoe groans, leaning an elbow on top of the bar.
“It’s not even a holiday,” I counter. “But I get your point.” I take another sip of my beer as I sit across the bar from her. Zoe’s working at the bar tonight, and Kendall went out with Kellan for Valentine’s Day.
“Before I got to know you, I would’ve totally pegged you for a girl who goes gaga over Valentine’s Day,” she admits.
“Why’s that?” I wrinkle my nose. “Because I brush my hair and wear lipstick? Or is it the heels?” I crack a sarcastic smile.
“It’s the whole package.”
I purse my lips and lean an elbow on the bar top. “Guys are too needy,” I begin. “I like focusing on my paintings and classes. It’s hard for guys who aren’t passionate about what I’m passionate about to understand that. It’s like at first they’re all ‘sure, no big deal’ and then within a couple weeks, they start complaining about the lack of attention I give them or wanting to go out all the time. And I…I don’t want that.”
“Well, that’s an easy fix,” she says matter-of-factly. “Find a guy who’s passionate about what you’re passionate about.”
“I think all guys are passionate about sex,” I tease.
She glares at me with a smirk. “You know what I mean.”
I snort. “It’s not exactly that easy.”
“Yes, it is. It’s just like when famous people marry famous people. They get the extreme work schedules, the traveling, the paparazzi, the tabloids.”
“Yeah, and most of them end up in divorce!” I defend. “If you actually research famous people who stay married, you’ll notice it’s those who rose to fame together, or around the same time, and the ones who married a non-famous person. Or someone less famous than they are. Having two people with crazy, strict schedules and cameras in the face all the time wouldn’t make them understand more—it’d make them twice as crazy.”
“Well, you aren’t famous. You aren’t avoiding the cameras and being pressured to look half your age.”
“No, but being into something that someone else isn’t doesn’t work either.”
“But don’t you attend a college primarily based on the arts?” A wrinkle forms in-between her eyebrows, and I sigh.
“Yes.”
“So…shouldn’t it be like swarming with guys who are passionate about arts and all that stuff?”
“You’d think so. But then you have two people who are overly passionate about the same thing and then neither of you care about spending time together.”
“Wouldn’t you spend time together doing the same thing? Like when couples watch movies together because they’re both really into action movies, or when couples run or workout together because they’re both really into fitness?” She turns the dishwasher on before slicing the lemons. “I think you’re just making excuses.”
I roll my eyes and scowl. “I’m just a realist, that’s all.”
“A pessimist is more like it.”
I don’t get the chance to respond because a few customers start flagging her down. The before dinner rush begins so I take my drink and walk back to my booth. I sit alone as I watch the overly-PDA couples suck face.
I think about Professor Hampton and how we share the same passion. Putting the fact that he’s my professor aside, I wonder if someone like him and someone like me could actually work out. I’m not exactly emotionally stable, but he makes me want to try. He makes me want to try to have something more.
“Dude, why are you sitting here alone?” I look up and see Kendall shifting into the seat across from me with a beer in hand.
“Because there are literally no single guys here tonight. It’s all couples and desperate chicks.”
“You’re a desperate chick.” Her words oozing sarcasm and pity.
I glare at her and take a drink of my warm beer. “If I’m desperate, then those chicks literally have no standards at all.” She snorts. “Why are you here, anyway?” I ask.
“Kellan got called into work.”
My brows furrow. I know she’s lying. “Really? Your car salesman boyfriend got called into work?”
“Y-yeah.” She quickly grabs her beer and takes a swig. “They had someone call in sick last minute and they needed an extra car detailer.”
“Hmm…really?” I’m not buying her shit for a second.
“Yup. So are we going to find you a hookup or what?”
“I seriously doubt it.”
“Oh, come on. The choices can’t be that bad. Look! A group of guys just walked in.”
I check my phone and notice the time. “It’s after midnight. They’re in here looking for a drunk, easy lay.”
She narrows her eyes, confused. “Isn’t that exactly what you want?”