They discussed it for just a little longer before she got the call from her sister. “We’re going to 5th Street tonight. Daddy’s request.”
“What?” Vannah gasped. “What happened to Hearst Castle? I thought we were doing that today?”
“Yeah, but since we’re doing Tamale Lilliana’s for dinner, he figured we’ll be right by there.” Nena sounded a little too excited about this, while Vannah’s head was already spinning trying to come up with a good reason to balk. “It’ll be a nice way to end the evening. We’ll take a stroll of the gym then get some epic tamales for dinner after.” Nena giggled before adding. “Daddy’s being all touristy this weekend. He said he hasn’t been to 5th Street in years. We’ll pick you up for breakfast in about a half hour, so be ready.”
Once off the phone, Vannah begged Xochitl to help her brainstorm and come up with a way of getting out of going. “I can’t risk seeing him. You saw me already,” Vannah pleaded, alarmed that she was feeling choked up again. “He already felt the need to be this blunt with me, can you imagine if I pathetically tear up on him?”
“No,” Xochitl shook her head holding Vannah’s arms as she looked her straight in the eye. “If you see him it’ll be a good thing. You’ll be armed and surrounded by your family and you’ll be fine. He has plans tonight, remember? Odds are he’ll be nowhere near 5th street tonight but even if he is, you’re bound to run into him sooner or later. Better to get your first time having to face him out of the way this way than if you’re alone, right?”
Vannah gulped back her emotion. Her friend had a point. Still, they wouldn’t be at Hearst Castle all day and night. They’d likely finish up midday. There was still the possibility he might hit the gym before his date tonight. The thought of seeing him, especially this soon and on the day when she knew what his plans were that night—because he’d made sure she did—scared the hell out of her.
“You’ll be fine,” Xochitl smiled then hugged her. “I hate that he turned out to be a jerk, but I still have my doubts about him not being totally into you.”
“Stop,” Vannah pulled away shaking her head. “Last thing I need is to be delusional. He’s made it clear now what he’s into and I just can’t do that.” She wiped at the corner of her eye, hating how weak this made her feel. “I feel stupid now that I actually thought and made him think I could do the just friends thing with anyone, especially someone like him. Lesson learned. No romance for me unless I’m ready for serious. I’m just glad the damage was this minor.”
Even as she made that last comment, she knew it was a major understatement. It was just too embarrassing to admit now how quickly she’d been swept off her feet by this guy. She hugged her friend again before trudging off to change, glad she’d already showered. As much as she dreaded seeing Byron again, Xochitl was right. Her family was nothing if not protective—all of them. The last thing she’d be feeling while surrounded by them today, if she happened to run into him, was vulnerable. She just hated how much one little text could change the circumstances. She’d gone from walking on air all week and dying to see him again, to dreading coming face to face with those piercing eyes and fighting the now perpetual stupid knot in her throat.
Fourteen
W.T.F?
Byron
Before he even opened his eyes, Byron was struck with an even heavier feeling of the usual bitterness he’d been waking to for the better part of the last year. But it took him a moment to remember why it was heavier than the norm. When it hit him yet another thing about last night came to him. He opened his eyes slowly and turned to her.
Irma lay there next to him, naked from her bottom half down, still sound asleep. He winced as bits of last night came to him. He’d hung out with her touchy-feely ass all night, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember leaving the place or how they ended up in his bed. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard as more bits of blurred memories of the night came to him slowly. Like how hard he’d tried to replicate the utter bliss a single kiss from Vannah amassed—but failed miserably. That he remembered because of course . . .
Not even close.
Just like the night at Frat Row Friday when he kept doing double takes each time he thought he saw her, he remembered those same three words kept blasting in his head the whole night. Only unlike that night when the phrase confused him, this time he knew exactly what it meant. There was so much more to Vannah than any other girl he’d ever met—kissed—touched. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it, but obviously he wouldn’t be getting over her like he stupidly thought he might by going out and getting laid.
Fuller memories from last night came to him slowly. Like how at first it was infuriating, and he remembered trying all night to stop thinking about her. Every time he’d be assaulted with the visuals, he’d up his atypical playful chatter, something he begun to pick up from Vannah after only a week. Something he was also sure Irma took by surprise and she’d likely had interpreted as an intensifying interest and desire to hook up with her.
That’s when he remembered something else. For all the obnoxious flirting he and Irma had done last night, and groping she’d begun to do, he’d been annoyed that he’d drank so much because he couldn’t get so much as a rise. Only time that’d ever happened in the past was when he’d had too much to drink or smoke. Last night he’d done both.
Though there’d been other times in the past when he’d done both and was still able to perform just fine. Obviously, last night had ended with a bang if she was still here. Of course, if last night had come even close to the night he’d had with Vannah, even if that one hadn’t ended with a bang, he might remember this one. He squeezed his eyes tight trying in vain to remember anything past their drunken groping, but he couldn’t. There were just bits and pieces. Mostly of Gus laughing and holding him up and then a blur of faces.
Opening his eyes again, Byron sat up slowly. Thankful that he probably smoked more than he drank because his headache wasn’t too bad. He could tell he was dehydrated as hell but mostly he felt completely drained. He was sure it had more to do with the angst he’d felt all night over the visuals of Vannah and her fucking friend. Ironically, no amount of drinking, or smoking had languished the memory of what had gone from fury to an ongoing dull ache in his heart. How he could’ve been so off the mark about her he’d never know. He’d been certain despite her claims of not doing the exclusive relationship thing, she’d begun to feel differently with every conversation they’d had this past week—morning, day and night. Damn it! Moreover, as sweet a girl as she was and regardless that she’d openly admitted to having multiple friends she hung out with, she did not strike Byron as one who’d be making out with more than one in the same week. Would she sleep with multiple guys too?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way to the bathroom.
How could he be so stupid? Thoughts of Vannah and all the time he’d spent chatting with her all week were rampant even as he took a quick shower. It’d been one fucking week. So, what if he’d fell asleep and woke up thinking of her every day. He had to move on—get over this already. She was just another carefree girl he’d made out with once and had more than numerous—okay, endless and all-night video chats. Some of which had ended with them falling asleep still on the line. It was just one week. But he could kick himself now because he’d known way back. He’d known it before he’d ever spoken to her. From the day he’d found himself banging his steering wheel over a girl whose name he hadn’t even known then; somehow, he’d known things would be different with her. And still, he went for it. Now look where he was. She’d been in his every thought all week and now the first flood of thoughts he was inundated with when he first woke were of her. Even when there was another chick in his bed, for the love of Christ!