11. Sadie
Eleven
Sadie
Do I want to wake up today? No.
I didn’t sleep well. I think I slept about two hours, because I kept making sure there was no one by the window, and checking my laptop to see if the light was coming on. Now I think to myself, why didn’t I just close it?
I have no idea what’s happening. I don’t even have a clue who it is. I haven't really spoken to any guys in my classes, or around campus.
I should be calling the police, but I once read about this girl who had a stalker, and the police did nothing to help her, as they said they had not harmed her. I mean, where is the safety for women?
My fingers start to tremble at the thought of this person killing me if they wanted to.
My heart hammers against my ribs. I take a deep breath, telling myself to calm down.
If they wanted to kill me, they could do easily when they come into my dorm and leave the flowers for me.
I mean, I don’t hear them come in or move around. I never thought I was a heavy sleeper.
I look around my apartment, and a cold sweat breaks out. What else is this person doing when they’re in my apartment?
I grab my sweatshirt and put it on as I walk out of my bedroom and stop. My arm is in the sleeve, with my head just popping out, when I see them.
New violets on the counter. The other ones still look fresh, and you can barely tell which ones are the new ones.
There’re six stems, they are purple-violets, sitting in the vase like they grew there overnight, like this is just what my kitchen looks like now.
I stand in the doorway, staring at them. I know there’s no point checking the door, because I know it’s locked. Looking around the dorm, I check to make sure nothing else is new. There isn’t. Then I look in my bedroom, making sure everything is the same. It is.
The rational thing to do, the correct, self-preserving, tell-someone thing, would be to go to the residence office this morning and file a report.
I walk to the kettle instead. I need coffee.
Walking to the sink, I stop and stare at my mug which is now washed and put to the side. Who is this man and why is he so interested in me? I don’t even think I’ve spoken to anyone to have any type of rection from them.
I stand at the counter waiting for it to boil, I look at the flowers, and I try to locate the fear clearly, hold it steady, and make it the loudest thing in the room.
It’s there. I’m not pretending it isn’t, but underneath it, which is the part I have no interest in examining closely, something else keeps surfacing.
Something that responds to the care I’m getting.
Someone’s thinking about me. Someone is taking time out in the middle of the night to give me flowers. That should scare me, but yet I make my coffee, take one last look at the stems catching the morning light, and then get dressed.
Maybe this morning I’ll tell the girls about what’s happening, but at the same time I’m not sure if they would even take it seriously. I’m still not sure if it’s all real. Grabbing my bag, I leave to meet the girls.
The girls are already mid-conversation when I get to Grounds. Now I’m not happy because Juno has the corner seat, my corner seat. She’s in the middle of something which involves a lot of hand gestures. Whatever she’s saying, she’s not happy about it.
I order a coffee, and walk to the table, and drop into the remaining chair. “What did I miss?”
“Juno matched with someone on the app,” Bree says, as if I’m meant to know what this app is. This is the first I’m hearing of it.
“He’s not just someone,” Juno says, almost shouting at us.
“She’s been talking about him for twenty minutes.” Bree shakes her head.
“Twelve. And he’s doing his Masters in architecture, Bree, that’s not nothing.” Juno starts waving her hands again, as if that’s going to make it less dramatic, but I press my lips together trying not to smile.
“Architecture means he can build things. He’s good with his hands,” I say, giving her a smile, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“That’s not why…” Juno stops then starts again. “Actually yes. Exactly. That’s exactly why. Imagine what he can do.” All of us start laughing, full on laughs, I quickly get up and grab my coffee from the counter, and I’m still laughing.
The door opens behind me as I sit down. “There’re no tables,” I hear Mason Crawford say.
I look up, actually the whole table looks up.
Mason is standing just inside the door, looking around to see if he can find a table, they’re all full this morning. Behind him, the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, Miles stands looking at his phone.
Under the table, Juno’s foot finds mine and presses down. Hard. I don’t look at her because the only person I want to look at is Miles.
Mason’s eyes land on our table, and with a smile he starts walking over to us. We have a few empty seats, so he’s looking to join us, and I’m hoping Miles sits next to me.
“Any chance…” he starts.
“Yes,” Juno says, so quickly that it makes Mason smile.
He pulls out a chair and sits down, looks over to the girl behind the counter and orders two coffees.
Miles takes the chair beside me, bringing a sudden rush of warmth. He smells incredible. Clean and warm, with something deeper underneath I can't quite place. As he leans in closer, the earthy, masculine scent completely envelops me. God, he smells like heaven.
This is what I think heaven would smell like, Miles Crawford.
The girl brings two coffees, and Miles thanks her, then gives her a wink. Why does that annoy me? He’s not mine, but he should be. He just doesn’t know it yet.
“I’m Mason,” Mason says.
“We know,” Juno says. “I’m Juno,” she says, full of confidence to Miles, “And you’re Miles Crawford.”
He looks up. “Yes.”
“We’ve heard about you…” Juno starts.
“Juno,” I say.
Something moves at the edge of Miles’s expression. He looks at me briefly, just for a second, just enough for me to feel it, and then he goes back to looking at his phone.
Mason, on the other hand, has already joined in with the table’s energy and matched it perfectly.
He’s leaning forward on his elbows, coffee in hand, already in conversation with Maya about something I’ve missed the start of.
Bree is watching Miles with the focused assessment of a person running calculations.
Cara is doing what Cara does, which is knowing everything and saying very little.
“So,” Mason says to the table at large. “How long have you all been on campus?”
“Since September,” Juno says. “Same as everyone.”
“Some people arrive earlier,” he says. “We were here in August.”
“For what?” Cara asks.
“For various reasons,” he says with a smirk, meaning only one thing. He was here to have fun. “You’re on the gymnastics team do you compete this semester?”
“Regionals in three weeks,” Maya says.
“Are you ready?” Mason asks, and I glance over to Miles, who is still on his phone.
“Getting there,” I say. I don't really want them to know I’m working on the movements in my head every spare second I have.
Miles looks up at that. Not at the group, but at me specifically. “What event?”
“Floor and beam mainly,” I say. “Floor is the one I care about.”
“Why floor?”
“More room,” I say. “The beam needs precision. The floor is… it’s both. You have to be exact, and you have to make it look like you’re not.”
There’s a shift in his expression. It’s like I’ve said something that maps onto wht he already understood about me.
He goes back to his phone, and Juno’s foot finds mine under the table again. I ignore it again. I know what she’s going to do, she’s going to make me ask Miles out or something, but from the small amount of time he’s been here, one thing I can say is, he likes to be in his own world.
Mason and Juno start talking about something I don’t understand, but then again, all my focus is on the man sitting next to me.
Miles says very little, but I’m aware of him the entire time.
For being twins, they are the complete opposite, Mason is very talkative, charming, but under all that you can see he has some crazy thoughts going on in that head.
While Miles, he just exists at the table.
He doesn’t say anything, but I see him with his brother and friends laughing and having fun.
But now he looks like he’s forcing himself to sit with us.
Mason sits back. “Harte’s thing Friday. You lot should come.”
“Who’s Harte?” Juno asks.
“Third year. Business school. Good parties, better playlist than whatever you went to before, bigger house, and an actual pool table.”
Juno turns to look at me. “Pool table?”
“Full size,” Mason confirms. “And a pool, just imagine the fun you can have.” Mason winks toward me, then looks at Miles.
“We’re going,” Juno says to me, as if I’m the one who needs convincing.
“I was already going to say yes,” I tell her.
“I know. I just wanted to say it first.” She turns back to Mason. “We’ll be there.”
Miles’s phone buzzes, he picks it up, and reads whatever it says in three seconds. He leans toward Mason, close enough so no one can hear what he’s saying.
Mason nods once.
Miles stands up, and looks at me for a moment, and then he’s leaving. No goodbye, so rude.
“Got the address for the party and bring swimsuits. Pool party.” Mason continues to type on his phone.
“What time does it start?” I ask.
“No party has a start time, people will be there after classes are finished.” He laughs
Mason grabs his coffee, stands up and before he leaves, he looks down at me and smiles.
“You know, talking to him won’t be a bad idea, he doesn’t bite. I mean unless you like that stuff.” He winks with a smile. “He has a lot on his mind at the moment, make the first move.” He nods, then leaves, and I get ready for the girls to give me their opinion.
“Yes, make your move. At this party, you are going to get some from Miles Crawford.” I'm not even surprised Juno is the first one to say anything. “You’re going to wear one sexy bikini, so he has to make a move, and if not then you’re going to just kiss him.”