Only For You Page 7

  “Hello. I would like a cappuccino with skim milk and a glass of water,” Crystal requested politely.

  “Hello Hunter, what can I get for you—Columbian black?”

  “Yes, that would be great,” he responded impersonally.

  “To stay or to go?” I directed my question at Hunter, hoping for a reaction.

  “To stay, please,” Crystal instead responded.

  I began to prepare Crystal’s cappuccino in one of Higher Yearning’s trademark red mugs while surreptitiously listening to their conversation.

  “Have you been here before? I’ve wanted to try their coffee since we began collaborating with the University. Thanks for agreeing to join me.”

  “I’ve only been here once before. It’s really no trouble,” Hunter replied nonchalantly.

  “I wish we had time to grab dinner first. Maybe next time?”

  “Maybe,” he offered noncommittally.

  “I know a great Thai restaurant not far from Hensley. They have the best panang curry I’ve found on the island.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She was a dog with a bone, who just wouldn’t let it go. Was it not obvious he didn’t want to date her? Evidently, she was so unaccustomed to rejection she missed his signals. Short of declaring his sexual preference outright, what more could he say and still maintain politesse? I finished Crystal’s cappuccino and poured Hunter’s Columbian before presenting them with their drinks.

  “I’ve met you before, haven’t I? You look so familiar.” Crystal scrutinized me trying to place where we had met.

  “Yes, I was at the self-defense seminar last week. You’re Crystal, right?”

  “Right!” She seemed excited to have solved the mystery, “I remember you now.” She paused realizing I had been invited to leave the session.

  “You had to leave early last week. I hope you can make it tomorrow.”

  She kindly overlooked the fact that I had been abruptly kicked out by her companion. It appeared she genuinely wanted me to return. Shoot, I couldn’t call her a bitch in my mind if she was going to be nice.

  “I’m not sure if I will make it tomorrow,” I offered no further justification.

  “You have to. Hunter, tell her she has to come tomorrow.” Crystal grabbed hold of Hunter’s arm beseechingly.

  “Miss Carsen is welcome to return to class tomorrow, provided she can do so with the appropriate mindset, and promises not to disrupt the instruction again.”

  Were we reverting to his original state of being? We had moved passed this, and built a friendship. We even had our thing— bantering and trumping each other. Now he wanted to pretend I was a random acquaintance and resume disparaging me? You can’t discuss your third leg with a person, then pretend they are a stranger.

  Crystal and Hunter relaxed into a pair of wingback chairs near the front window. Their hushed conversation couldn’t be overheard, effectively thwarting my snooping. Occasionally, Crystal would giggle while reaching her hand to touch Hunter with deliberate innocence.

  I was fit to be tied by the time they rose and headed out the door. Hunter exited without even a nod while Crystal sent me a small wave with her hope to see me tomorrow. Fat chance! Crystal had proven herself amiable today. She was compassionate and encouraging, graciously “forgetting” her first impression of me. I wasn’t about to invite her to be our new third Musketeer, but she had gained my respect.

  On the other hand, Hunter had lost my esteem. I was officially revoking his Musketeer status, he would have to turn in his feathered hat and rapier. He could take his bipolar disposition elsewhere, because I was all stocked up on crazy.

  After work I headed home, needing to share my exasperation.

  “You will not believe what happened today,” I declared.

  “Uh-oh. It’s never a good story with that lead in. Talk to me.”

  “I fired Hunter.”

  “I didn’t know he was working at Higher Yearning,” Sam said, clearly lost.

  “I mean I fired him as our third. I have severed all contact, he is dead to me.”

  I paused, assessing where to begin; the day had been a rollercoaster. Revisiting Hunter’s trouser anaconda would be too diverting—especially for Sam—so I omitted that revelation. I outlined the events of the day and ended with my final complaint.

  “…and he left his dirty mugs on the table.”

  “That’s really weird. He was so nice at lunch yesterday. He fit in well and I thought you two had moved past all the drama,” Sam lamented.

  “Right! You can’t move past an incident and then bring it back up at a later date as if there had never been a resolution. He doesn’t have that right, he’s not a woman. We own that privilege exclusively. Possession of a penis bars him from reopening closed cases.” I released a sigh heavy with disappointment as I slumped on the couch.

  “I admit I was disruptive last week. I feel bad for joking in the face of such ghastliness. I can’t fathom why he pulled the one-eighty. Why does it even bother me?”

  “He was growing on you and now he’s callously discarded you with no warning. You don’t let many people in, Ev. You have tons of casual friends and you date liberally, but you’re exceptionally selective in who you share yourself with. You were beginning to let him into your life—provided he survived the gauntlet you were throwing down—which is huge for you. I won’t give you a hard time for guarding yourself because you’re not an emotional hermit. Just don’t let this bad experience turn you into one.”

  “When did you become so sage?”

  “The truth, it is, I speak.” Sam answered with a surprisingly good impersonation of Yoda.

  Sam had an infatuation with the actor Hayden Christensen, which resulted in her watching all of the Star Wars movies on an endless loop for a solid year. I never saw the appeal, but to each her own.

  “You still have to come with me tomorrow morning,” Sam threatened.

  “I most certainly do not. Did you not hear my story?”

  “You promised you would do this with me. I don’t want to go alone,” Sam whined.

  “Circumstances have changed. There must be an escape clause for asshole senseis.”

  “Firstly, it was an ironclad contract—no loopholes. Second, you still have to see him four days a week in class. What’s the difference?”

  “The difference is that he is the authoritarian at the self-defense seminar. In class he is my equal and no interaction is required.”

  “Don’t you want to confront him when it’s your choice to be present and illustrate how unaffected you are by his callous disregard?”

  She did have a point there. If I chose to participate, I could show him how little his dismissal meant to me. Still, was it worth risking additional censure? I would have to exhibit my best behavior and be a model student, which was not an appealing prospect. The effort to curb my sarcasm was not worth proving he didn’t influence me.

  “You almost agreed,” Sam remarked to herself.

  “I don’t want to be forced to behave myself under threat of public castigation. It’s not worth it.”

  “I didn’t want to bring it to this level, but you leave me no choice,” Sam prefaced, “Are you familiar with the logistics of self-defense training? The instructor demonstrates the techniques and you repeat. After this, the instructor dons a full body suit and you practice all of the skills you just learned in a combative atmosphere to ensure your muscle memory and mind are prepared to defend if necessary. It was a little scary, but a lot of fun.”

  “I can see the logic,” I replied, having no idea where she was going with her latest bid to persuade me.

  Sam paused to ensure she had my full attention. “If you participate in the class and are a good little girl during the lecture, you will get a sanctioned opportunity to unleash on Hunter. In fact, in order to comply fully with the seminar you would be expected to put forth your best effort to beat the arrogance out of him.”

  Forget Marilyn vos Savant, the woman wi
th the highest recorded IQ currently living, to me Sam was the genius.

  “This, my calculating friend, is going to be fun.”

  When my alarm sounded Wednesday morning at 6:30, I crawled from bed with as much enthusiasm as I could muster prior to my consumption of coffee. Today was special. I was going to kick the patronization out of Hunter Charles. I dressed quickly, eager for class.

  “Sam, I’m heading out. I’ll meet you there,” I hollered on my way out the door.

  When I arrived, Crystal spotted me and offered her welcome.

  “Everleigh, I’m so glad you decided to return. You seemed reluctant yesterday.”

  “I promised my roommate I would participate in the seminar, and she wouldn’t let me break my word.”

  “I’m glad. Every woman should have the knowledge and basic skills to protect herself.” Crystal returned to the front of the room to finish her preparations.

  Hunter arrived shortly thereafter, walking by without a glance. I looked to Sam ensuring she noticed the snub. She rolled her eyes in response to his cold shoulder.

  Crystal called the class to order and I resolved to pay attention and act appropriately.

  “Hello again ladies. It appears everyone has returned for our second session, which thrills me.” Crystal proceeded to disperse more safety measures than I could absorb. Thankfully, she had provided a packet containing most of the information she was covering. I highlighted the information I found most pertinent as she reviewed each.

  "When in public, pay attention to what is going on around you. Don’t talk on your phone or listen to music in a public place."

  "Always have your keys in hand when approaching your home or car. Do not unlock your vehicle until you’re within arm’s reach."

  "Position your body so that it would be difficult to approach you from behind without your knowledge. At a party, keep your back to the wall. When unlocking your car, angle your body so your back is toward the car."

  "If threatened, appear confident and strong. Perpetrators can be discouraged if the prey looks like it will be too challenging. This is not a hard and fast rule, but submissiveness is rarely a deterrent.”

  “Everyday items can be used as self-defense weapons. If forced to engage, be resourceful—a rock, hair-spray, pen or pencil, and umbrella have all been used as successful defense tools.”

  “If you fear you are about to be raped try to vomit, urinate, defecate, spit, anything to detract from your appeal. This will not always be a deterrent, but it has been proven to work. If he provides access to his exposed groin, grab his scrotum, twist, and pull down quickly with all of your strength. This can effectively castrate your attacker.”

  When Crystal finished, Hunter stepped forward and I suppressed all feelings churning within to focus on the task at hand.

  “Crystal has done a wonderful job coaching you on awareness and prevention. I hope that these strategies will be enough to protect you from a predator, rendering everything you learn from me superfluous. Unfortunately that’s not always the case; my goal is to prepare you should Crystal’s techniques not be sufficient.”

  “The goal is always to avoid physical confrontation. I don’t care if you’re an eighth-degree black belt, do not engage unless it is your last resort. The best preventative measure is always escape. You must never allow your attacker to take you to another location.”

  “Everyone stand up and spread out. We are going to continue learning physical self-defense techniques. If you must engage, your intent is not to punish but to provide yourself the opportunity to run. With that said, if you must defend yourself, commit to it, and do not hold back. In a survival situation nothing is off-limits, there is no such thing as a cheap shot.”

  “Many of the defense techniques I’m going to demonstrate today derive from Krav Maga, the Israeli national martial art, which is dedicated to no-holds-barred incapacitation for the purpose of street survival. If you wish to continue studying martial arts for the purpose of self-defense, I would strongly suggest Krav Maga. I could suggest a school for you, if needed,” Hunter chuckled at his own joke.

  Hunter spent time showing us how to break arm holds, which we practiced with partners. He demonstrated various self-defense moves, which we practiced solo before trying the skills against weight bags.

  “Let’s recap while Crystal and I suit up. Your elbow is the strongest point on your body, use it. If you end up on the ground, use your legs to kick free from your attacker. Go for his weakest points: eyes, nose, ears, throat, groin, and knees. You can also use your head for a forward or backward head-butt. It may sting you, but it will stun him.”

  Hunter and Crystal attired themselves in protective suits and headgear, which were padded to protect from serious injury to them or us. They were both covered from head to toe, enabling us to practice all the techniques on a willing partner without fear of injury. I examined their padded forms. Damn it—Hunter even looked good dressed like a marshmallow!

  When it was my turn to face him, I was ready. My anger had waned during the lecture, until it was only an ember. As I stood before him, he addressed me as “Miss Carsen” in the same impersonal tone he used for everyone else—the fire of my rage flared. I put the full force of my anger into every punch, elbow, gouge, strike, foot stomp, and kick. The entirety of my betrayal culminated in a fierce knee to the groin, which caused Hunter to grunt. He may have been protected, but the force of my blow still registered; I couldn’t help but feel satisfied.

  After the seminar, I showered and changed in the locker room before heading to class. I walked in and took my seat, never looking at Hunter although I could feel his presence behind me.

  When class ended, I gathered my belongings and departed. I only made it twenty feet before Hunter caught up with me.

  “Hey ultimate fighting champion, what’s the rush?” he asked while easily matching my brisk pace.

  I looked at him as if he was insane, which I was beginning to believe he was. He had all of the signs of dissociative identity disorder as per my Psychology 101 class. I focused ahead of me without a word in response.

  “Ah, the tried and true silent treatment. My sisters were black belts in the art. Shall I interpret your muteness as a sign of your displeasure?”

  Did he just say displeasure? As if he borrowed my pen and neglected to return it. He was stark raving mad, there may be grounds to institutionalize him. I continued my campaign to ignore him. I had pledged he was dead to me—unless I was presented the opportunity to rough him up again in which case he could be reanimated—I intended to stick to my pledge.

  “I bet I could make you talk.”

  Hunter was trying to restart our games as if nothing had changed. I wouldn’t be duped this time.

  “Were you disappointed I didn’t chat with you at Higher Yearning?”

  Didn’t chat? He had to be joking. The man pretended I was the amazing invisible barista. I greet the checkout girl at my grocery store and I don’t even know her name, it’s basic common decency.

  “Just let me explain.”

  I turned to him, about to unleash my anger, before realizing it would expose how much he had hurt me. I caught myself, instead giving him a scathing look and continued walking.

  “Everleigh, please,” he pleaded, grabbing my wrist and pulled me to a stop.

  I looked at him contemptuously then down to where his hand had locked onto my wrist, which he immediately released and allowed me to walk away.

  I joined Sam and Robbie for lunch at the Hensley Union Café and conveyed that the situation with Hunter had deteriorated. After we finished our meals, several of Robbie’s fraternity brothers came to our table. They were attractive, clean cut, and reeked of wealth. Robbie seemed hesitant to introduce us, but he put his arm around Sam—claiming her—which made his reluctance forgivable. Taking matters into my own hands, I introduced Sam and myself to the three brothers. Their words were urbane, but their lascivious appraisal was off putting. Heath, the obvious ringlea
der, invited us to a frat party Saturday. Robbie declined and stated we already had a commitment, but Heath suggested we stop by after. I stepped in to decline, citing my need to work the next day, and Robbie’s appreciation for the assist was evident. I didn’t believe he was ashamed of us—he had readily claimed Sam—but I suspected Robbie was preventing Sam from seeing him in ‘frat mode’ for fear she would be repelled, which was both insightful and correct. Heath finally accepted our decline and said we were welcome anytime before departing.

  “That was special. How can you be friends with those turds?” I had to ask Robbie.

  He groaned pitifully. “I know. I hate the fraternity lifestyle, but I don’t have a choice. The last six generations of males in my family have attended Hensley and been members of Kappa Sigma Tau. I avoided pledging my freshman year, claiming to be overwhelmed by my studies, but sophomore year my dad applied the pressure. He said if he paid for my education, the least I could do was honor the family tradition. The threat wasn’t exactly veiled. I participate minimally to retain my membership, but it’s not my scene. Most of the brothers are good guys, but all of them are pompous and overindulged.” Robbie sounded defeated.

  Sam kissed his cheek, offering what consolation she could since she related to the potent mix of family and prosperity. I sent him a sympathetic smile before excusing myself to return home to study, providing them time alone.

  Chapter Seven

  * * *

  "Forgiveness is the economy of the heart... Forgiveness saves the expense of anger, the cost of hatred, the waste of spirits.” -Hannah More

  I dressed carefully the next morning as if coating myself in armor. I was sending a message with my shredded boyfriend jeans, military jacket, and black combat boots. I wanted a physical representation of my strength, to show Hunter I would not be persuaded by pleas or excuses. My hair was pin straight parted down the middle and my make-up was ferocious. I was a warrior, ready for silent battle.