Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
LIVVY
All my love, Byron…
I hugged the letter to my chest, tears pricking my eyes while I spun in a slow circle. All his love. Did he love me? Or was that just a more familiar closing?
No…he hadn’t used it before, and I wasn’t going to examine it. I loved him, too. All the questions about my feelings coalesced into one answer, a resounding yes.
I wanted to sit down and write him immediately, to confirm my feelings back to him, but I had a girls night planned with a couple classmates from school. I’d been attempting to be more social.
I didn’t have to leave for a few minutes, so I indulged myself in a few minutes of staring at Byron’s picture. I picked him out easily since he’d labeled the photo well. He was tall, leanly muscled and so damn cute I just wanted to hug him. Okay, I wanted to do way more than that. All the guys with him were trying to look serious and tough in the pic, yet Byron had a tiny, mischievous smirk. And his glasses. They were the geeky-chic Clark Kent type. This man checked all my boxes and some I didn’t even know I had.
And he had a crush on me. I was special to him.
Oh, Byron… Same!
The alarm on my phone went off, reminding me it was time to meet my friends at the club. I’d put on a cute little black dress with a flared skirt and a gold stripe about an inch from the hem. I thought I looked pretty good and it complimented my curves, casual but not too casual. I’d put on a pair of strappy, heeled booties that were actually pretty comfortable and left my hair down in fat curls. I liked the look so much, I’d taken a pic in the full-length mirror on my closet door.
When I got to the club, though, I kind of regretted all my decisions. The other girls were in jeans and cropped tops that showed varying slivers of their bellies, depending on the girl. All three were tall and blonde. They all wore heels, too, but I felt out of place. Well, shoot.
“Olivia!” Hayley exclaimed. “You look darling.”
Darling. Great. I smiled and said thanks because she was being genuinely nice, even as her two friends eyed me with unconcealed judgment.
“You know Monica and Karen,” Hayley continued.
Wish I didn’t…
“Yeah. Hi, guys,” I said, brazening it out.
“Guys,” Karen scoffed. “We’re women . The use of guys as a generic collective is a misogynistic influence from our patriarchal society.”
Yeah, no… She did not. And this from the girl who was flaunting a good three inches of her tanned belly with her little top and hip-hugging jeans. She was obviously trying to catch the eye of some of that patriarchy.
Hayley slung an arm around my shoulders. “Ignore her,” she muttered. “She’s in a women’s studies class and has been a little bitchy. I mean I agree with the concepts, but I think she’s missing the point.”
“Maybe,” I hedged. I didn’t know how close she was to the other two girls, but I’d taken the same class and learned something entirely different…like women sticking together and not being jerks to each other.
“I’ve never been here,” I said, changing the subject.
“We come here all the time,” Monica said, joining us just as we reached a high-top table and I struggled to get up on the stool—short people problems. “We know most of the guys who come here regularly. We could hook you up if you want. Introduce you.”
“Oh, that’s cool but—”
“Jerry and Tyler over there are nice. Good starter dates,” Karen added.
Starter dates…? Seriously?
“Thank you, but—” I cut off when all three of their gazes turned to me. “I actually have a boyfriend.” I silently asked forgiveness for what I was about to say. “Byron. He’s in the Army. In the Middle East, right now.”
“Well, he’s not here,” Karen said. “You can sample the offerings.”
Hayley gave her wide eyes and shoved her arm, in a wordless command to shut up. And I was getting the feeling this was a big mistake.
“What?” Karen snapped at her friend. “I thought the whole point was to get her to have a good time and hook up?”
“What?” I exclaimed.
Hayley looked at me, her gaze full of remorse. “You just seemed so lonely all the time. I think you’re really great, and…”
“And so I was like your service project?”
That reality felt really shitty, and I worried about how Byron had felt when I’d told him I was writing to him for a school project. Damn it! I needed to get that straight with him. He wasn’t some project for me.
I slid off my stool, about as gracefully as I’d gotten onto it, which was not at all. “Thank you. Really,” I said, regretting the cover charge I’d wasted to get in here. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think I’m going to head home.”
Hayley started to protest, and I held up my hand. “All good. Really. I’ll see you in class.”
Pivoting away, I hightailed it out of there before anyone stopped me. I punched the side of my fist into my steering wheel, feeling stupid. I’d been expecting an actual girls night of gossiping and laughing. Perhaps naive of me. Maybe, I didn’t give them enough of a chance, but only one of the three even seemed to have any use for me, so… I couldn’t feel too bad about leaving.
And I wasn’t hooking up with anyone, even if I’d lied when I’d said Byron was my boyfriend. I still felt connected to him. Consumed by thoughts of him.
When I got home, I sank onto the couch again. My skirt floofed out around my sides, and I wished Byron was here to see me. I felt cute and feminine, and ready for a damn date, damn it. Grabbing his picture off the coffee table, I pointed at it.
“You, Mister, are taking me on a date when you get back on American soil. I don’t care if I have to travel cross country to see you. I will go there, and you will take me out.”
You tell him , I thought, laughing at my strong words. But for once in my life, I meant them. I was going to date this amazing man who had a crush on me. I’d figure out how to make it happen.
Pulling out my paper, I worked on step one.
Dear Byron,
Thank God. I happen to have a crush on you, too! I don’t know, maybe, more than that.
I told someone today that you’re my boyfriend. Sorry about that. And I know that I don’t even need to tell you. It’s not like you’d know. But I feel the need to be honest with you. I was out for a girls night that ended up being a hook Livvy up night, because they felt sorry for me. Like I was their project.
It made me kind of angry, and then I felt bad. Not because of them, but because of you. I don’t ever want you to think you’re a project to me. I mean…you were when I got handed the paper with your information. But even when I started writing the first words to you, before I knew anything more about you, you stopped being that. The more we’ve “talked” the more you’ve grown on me and the less this has anything to do with school. Okay, and we both know by letter two that fell by the wayside since I started sending you separate letters with cookies.
Speaking of… Sorry, no cookies this time. I just got back, and I wanted to write you right away and get this all out. Who knows? Maybe my words, this truth about what I’m feeling, will be better than cookies. Maybe, it’ll be too much. If that’s the case, just rip up this letter, and we’ll forget I ever said anything of this. Deal? Deal.
But on the front of revealing my feelings… Thanks for the picture, hottie. You’re super handsome and adorable. No wonder I felt the need to claim you that way to the girls. Maybe, once you’re back, we can talk on the phone—or better, in person—and see what happens. Thank you for the compliment about my pics. I wish you could see me tonight, LOL. I think I looked pretty cute for the club. Again, maybe, sometime when you’re back on American soil.
How much longer are you there?
Stay safe for me.
All my love back,
Livvy