The Opportunist (Love Me with Lies, #1)(22)

“Caleb,” I said my voice too high, “I’m going to be honest.” He nodded blinking slowly.

“I’m just not interested…in what you’re…interested in. I like you, but just as a friend.” I stopped to check his face, which was as unreadable as War and Peace, and threw in one last jab to bring my point home. “I just don’t think we’re compatible.”

“That’s not how it feels to me.” He looked alarmingly intense and I had to stare at my shoes to avoid being sucked into his eyes.

“Um, well I’m sorry. I guess we’re just on two different wave lengths,” I stammered.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I know you like me just as much as I like you. But, it’s your choice, and I am a gentleman. You want me to back off-okay. Goodbye, Olivia.” He walked away.

I looked after him in dismay. Had I really just done that? I wanted to chase after him and tell him that I only partially meant it and that every time I was around him I felt intoxicated, and if he could please just kiss me one more time so I could be sure I was doing the right thing.

I didn’t of course.

Caleb, true to his word, steered clear of me for the next five months. So clear, in fact, that sometimes when we passed each other around campus he would stare right through me.

I kept thinking about what my mother would have said about this situation.



“A real chunk of man meat and you screw it up because you’re afraid. You’re too much like your father, Olivia.”



I was a relationship retard. I kicked, shoved, and punched people out of my life, so they never had a chance to hurt me.



Life carried on, but all of a sudden it wasn’t the same. There was a change in me. I couldn’t put my finger on it but somewhere in my brain a new door had appeared and despite my hardest efforts to keep it closed, my thoughts kept going there, wandering around in the empty room, putting up images of Caleb. Sometimes I felt sad for days, then my mood would swing and I would feel incredible rage towards him for messing with my head. Around the second month of my emotional torture, I gave up the fight. Obviously, I no longer wanted to be an island. Maybe it was time to open up and experiment with relationships.

I became interested in boys almost overnight. I enlisted Cammie’s help and she gave me lessons on blow-drying my hair, doing my make-up, and, like any true friend, introduced me to the padded bra. This new, smooth and puckered look, along with great effort on my part not to be dour, got me one date and then two. By month four, I owned my very own pair of hot rollers and had accumulated a small group of ardent admirers.

I was seeing Brian the brain who was a pre-med major, Tobey who drove a Lamborghini and took me to swanky restaurants, and of course there was Jim, a poet who was too artsy fartsy for his own good. He smoked a carton of Marlboro’s day and could recite chunks of Tolstoy. He was my favorite, everything he did and said was so bold it gave me a thrill. There was of course, just one problem with all of these men: they were not filling that ‘Caleb room’ in my head. He was like an itch that never went away. I thought of him when I looked at trees, buildings, and when I was in the check-out line at Target choosing gum. I thought of him when I brushed my teeth and when Cammie was babbling on and on about the color of her new shoes (which she claimed were salmon, but were to my estimation, coral). After five months, I was sick and tired of seeing his face in my head. Caleb saturated my existence and I was screwed. To make matters worse—he was everywhere, involved in everything, and smiling at everyone. I couldn’t get away from him. I stopped seeing Tobey and Brian and kept Jim on the backburner because I genuinely liked him as a person. I gave up dating, it wasn’t me anyway, and took up professional stalking instead.

I kept up on who Caleb was dating through Cammie’s gossip chain, a classic group of nosy freshman who had wagging tongues, and too little homework. I knew that he dated Susanna because she had killer legs, and Marina because she loved basketball, and she had killer legs. I knew that he took Emily to Disney World for their one-month anniversary and that Danielle got a Burberry purse for her twenty-second birthday. I knew all of these things, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him.

“You remind me of that slimy looking dwarf from Lord of the Rings,” Cammie commented one day. I had just finished quizzing her on Caleb’s evening at Passions Nightclub where she had seen him carrying on with a new blonde.

“He’s a hobbit.”



“Yeah. My precious, right?”



I flipped her the bird.



In early March, when the migrant birds spread their wings for home, Caleb started dating a Barbie doll. Her name was Jessica Alexander. She was a transfer student from Las Vegas, where she worked as a professional dancer in the Toni Braxton show. Her legs were endlessly long, her hair impossibly blonde, and it was widely rumored that her parents were the heirs to the Oscar Myer hotdog fortune. I stopped eating hot dogs and convinced myself that he would become bored with her, like he had with all the others. Blonde’s never had much brain activity going on anyway. It was just a matter of biding my time, looking hot and being available when the right moment presented itself.



My theory crumbled when the school paper issued its February cover story. I found Jim reading a copy at the café where I was meeting him for a latte. Jessica’s face was smiling up at me from the front page where a bold caption read, “Beauty and the Books.” I snatched the paper from his hands and stared at the article with my mouth twisted in a jealous pout.