The Girl He Used to Know(28)
“What happened at the bar with that guy? I turned my back to order and when I turned around, you were gone. Did he say something to you? Something he shouldn’t have?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
I took another sip of the beer and grimaced. “It’s just that people take advantage of me sometimes because I have trouble understanding their intentions.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I don’t know why I decided to tell him, but I did, the whole story tumbling out in fits and starts. I rocked and flicked my fingers. “I thought he liked me, but he really didn’t. I don’t like to think about what might have happened if Janice hadn’t shown up.”
I will not cry.
Jonathan placed his hand on my arm and it surprised me how much the small gesture calmed me. I stopped rocking and put my hands back in my lap. “Is that why you wanted me to meet her?”
Still unable to look at him, I nodded.
“I would never do anything like that to you.”
“I don’t like bars, Jonathan. I don’t like crowds or loud sounds or cigarette smoke. I’m really bad at dating because this is the first one I’ve ever been on.”
“You’ve never been on a date before?”
“No.”
“I don’t really like bars either. I spend enough time working in one so I don’t really want to go to them if I don’t have to. But I liked being seen at Kam’s with you.”
If I lived to be one hundred, I would never be able to understand what he meant by that. All my life, I’d been an embarrassment to myself. How could he want other people to see him with me, especially after the way I acted?
“Why?”
“Because I could tell when I picked you up that you were excited to see me. And that made me feel really good because I’m pretty sure if you weren’t interested, you’d straight-up tell me. There’s something about having a pretty girl on your arm and knowing she’s into you that makes you feel like showing her off.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said.
“Which part? That you’re pretty or that I wanted to show you off?”
“I know I’m pretty. My face is aesthetically pleasing. I didn’t know about the other thing.”
“I’ve never known anyone like you.”
“I honestly don’t know what you mean by that. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It’s good, Annika.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “It’s very cold in here.”
“I’m sorry. The apartments don’t have their own thermostats so I can’t control the heat. And I’m really starting to question whether this house was ever insulated. I think it’s pretty old. Winter might be rough, but at least I won’t have to live here next year.”
His apartment did seem drafty, as if the house had been poorly constructed or was simply showing its age. I snuggled deeper into the cushions on the couch in an attempt to warm myself.
Jonathan left the room and returned with a sweatshirt that said NORTHWESTERN on the front. “Why don’t you put this on.”
I took the sweatshirt and pulled it over my head, but I knew within seconds I wouldn’t be able to wear it. Jonathan went into the kitchen for another beer, and when he came back into the room he saw that I’d folded it and placed it next to me on the couch. “Don’t you want to wear it?”
“I’m okay. It’s not that cold.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s clean.” He picked it up and sniffed it. “It smells clean to me.”
“I like the way it smells, but it has a tag in it. Tags bother me.”
“Do you cut the tags out of all your clothes?”
“It’s the first thing I do when I get them home.”
Jonathan went back into the kitchen, and when he returned he had a pair of scissors in his hand. He cut out the tag and said, “Here. Try it now.”
It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. I might not always understand what people are saying, but I know when they’ve been kind.
“Thank you,” I said, pulling it over my head.
“You’re welcome.”
* * *
Half an hour later, I’d managed to choke down a third of the beer before giving up on it. Jonathan offered to swap out my can for a fresh one, but I admitted I really didn’t care for the taste. After he finished his second, he didn’t have any more either. Now that we’d left the bar, our date was going better than I’d expected, and talking about our favorite TV shows and bands had left me in a fairly comfortable state. I knew enough about both to be able to talk about them with Jonathan. Plus, he was really easy to talk to. Maybe he was the reason I’d finally been able to get this far with a guy.
“What are your plans for after graduation?” he asked. He already knew I’d be completing my undergraduate work with a bachelor’s degree in English because we’d traded information about our majors on the drive down to St. Louis. Jonathan was a business major, and he told me he would start working toward his MBA as soon as he was hired by a company that would pay for it.
“I want to work at a library someday,” I said. “I want to spend every waking day of my adult life surrounded by books.” I also planned to earn a master’s degree—in my case, library science—in order to pursue the career I’d coveted since my freshman year, and I planned to get started on it as soon as I’d finished my undergraduate studies.