Every Girl Does It(6)

He stops behind me. Annoyed, of course I had to turn around and face my now enemy. I can’t believe I ever thought he was hot, him and his “wow” body, please. I want to ruin his body with my nails right now.

“Thanks.” I grind my teeth and force a smile. “For punching him in the face. And yes, sorry about high school, but let’s face it, that was ten years ago. And technically I didn’t lie. Well I did, but I didn’t want to make it worse by saying no in front of the entire school. And come on, you got your revenge on me and everyone else. I mean, look at you.”

Stop talking, Amanda. But it was too late. When I get started, there’s no alarm that goes off in my head that says, “hey, Amanda, maybe that’s an over-share”. I think Google or Apple should invent an app to put on cell phones so alarms go off when you’ve been talking too much or embarrassing yourself.

He leans in close enough for me to see the perfect trace of his irritating jaw. “What do you mean, ‘I got my revenge’?”

Biting my lip and fighting the fluttering feelings his close proximity brings, I try to figure a graceful way out of this situation. This couldn’t get much worse. I’ve now admitted twice to him that I think he’s the hottest man on the planet, and he still doesn’t have a clue. Could it be? Is he one of those guys whose actually humble?

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh you mean this?” He flexes a bicep and leans down to kiss it. Oh no, he did not just do that. Of all the arrogant…I have no words to finish that thought.

“Amanda, I’m kidding. Geez, you need to lighten up, how much caffeine do you consume, anyway? It must be a lot with how high strung you are.”

Glad we’ve moved on from embarrassment to just plain being offended. “I’ll have you know that my caffeine levels are completely normal as are my BMI and IQ.” Wait, maybe the IQ comment made me sound dumb, because now he’s trying not to laugh.

Frustrated, I stomp my foot on his and run down the stairs. Don’t ask me why. His foot didn’t suffer any long term damage. I know, because he followed me all the way outside.

“Did you just stomp your foot?” He’s incredulous as he rests his hands on his hips. Preston’s eyes widen in scrutiny as he waits for my answer.

“No,” I lie, crossing my arms.

“You need sugar or something or maybe a stress pill. Ever try herbs? Or massages?”

He’s mocking me now. I’m sure of it. So I walk up to him, as close as I can possibly get without kissing him, and smile. “Are you offering?”

His mood immediately turns serious as he leans in closer to my face. “Do you want me to be offering?” Oh, he’s good. Way better than I am. See, I try to flirt, but people think I’m being funny. He flirts and makes me want to sell my parents just to be in his presence.

“Amanda! There you are. I’ve been calling you all night.” The voice broke our moment as we both turned to see Derek hanging out his car window waving his cell phone at me. At this time in my life, I’m ready to yell at myself for telling Derek about my running addiction and gym membership.

“It looks to me like someone else has already scheduled time tonight, maybe later.” He smiles and strolls off as I contemplated ways I could hide in a bush from Derek.

“Traitor!” I shout as I watch his feet carry him to an impressive black truck.

“Hey, is that the guy that punched me?” Derek asks as I will myself to look at him. If I were a betting woman I’d guess he was sporting a broken nose. It actually did him a favor in the looks department, giving him an all around tougher appearance than before.

“What do you want, Derek?” Does he have no shame or self-respect? Trying to get to my car as fast as possible, I contemplate if there’s any way this night can get worse.

“Well, I just thought that if I gave you a little time to forgive me, then we could, I don’t know, start dating again…soon.” His face looks hopeful. I, however, feel irritation seeping from my every pore.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have another wedding you’d like to break up? Do you need to use me again? Derek, we hardly know each other. Stop being so….weird. Seriously, it’s over.” I open my car door and hear a sniffing sound. Uh oh. Please tell me he isn’t crying again.

“I just t-t-thought, that we had something…” He proceeds to pull out a hanky, yes a hanky, and blow his nose, or at least tried to, while tears streamed down his face.

Sympathy is not an emotion I can give Derek at this point. “Derek, have a good night.” With that, I slam my door, leaving a heart-broken Derek alone in the parking lot. Hope he didn’t lock his keys in the car, because I’m not staying to help him.

Turning up the radio, I begin to sing at the top of my lungs. It’s actually Christmas music; all the more reason to rock out. It’s only November, but Christmas has a tendency to sneak up on me; just like Derek, and Mr. Firefighter. What is it with men these days?

****

Parking my car and running up the stairs to my apartment, I slam the door behind me and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Yes, my apartment doesn’t look glamorous on the outside, but there’s nothing sketchy about hard wood floors and vaulted ceilings. Plus, Mrs. Butterworth is a good guard cat. As I walk into my front room, I see a blinking light on my answering machine. Ten messages! Who in the world is calling me? Did someone die? My chest constricts.