maybe you’d like to order some lunch.”
I sigh, telling my inner bitch to back off, and try not to jump to conclusions in the future. “I’m sorry, Stacey.” Her eyes get wide. What the hell? I may be introverted, but it’s not like I was rude or didn’t speak to her at all in the past. Want to try that again? Because I smell bullshit. Was I that bad? Okay, new rule: aloof but present. “I misjudged the time. Thank you for being so efficient.” Robot, robot, robot. “Um, yes, please order me a salad from that place around the corner and go ahead and bring in the delivery. Um, and, thank you.”
She kicks up one side of her mouth in a secretive smile, and spins on her heel, returning to her desk. After a moment, she shuffles back in with the most beautiful bouquet of blue irises I have ever seen. They bloom up from a lovely glass vase, swirling with frosted etchings. The moment she enters, the fragrance permeates the air and the sweet smell fills my lungs. All of the oxygen rushes back out as my heart pumps wildly.
Stacey sets them on my desk, and passes me an accompanying note. She shuffles from foot to foot for a second and I can see that she really wants to stay and find out who they are from and what the note says. I open it, and tell her, “They are from Chase, the guy who dragged me out of here against my will yesterday.”
Stacey’s cheeks get pink with excitement, but that’s all I’m willing to share.
“Would you see about my lunch…please?” I tack that last word on, knowing I’m usually barking orders without thought. I don’t know why I feel the need to change these subtle things. My life is just the way I like it. See? This is why Chase is a bad influence and someone I should stay far away from.
Reluctantly, Stacey returns to her cubicle and once she is gone, the door firmly closed, I open the note and read it. The fuzzy feeling grows with each heavy beat of my heart, the warmth becoming a burn. I read it again and shake my head. He didn’t ask, he simply ordered me to have dinner with him. I should turn him down, just for that. I reach for the phone, but my hand stalls halfway there. I’m super busy, and he teaches today, I should wait until later to cancel.
I arrange the flowers on the glass coffee table in the center of my little conversation nook across the room. Twisting and turning the vase until I’m satisfied that I’ll have the best view of it from my desk. Then I get to work and don’t look at them again. Liar, liar… I don’t look at them much. Pants on fire… Ok, I glance at them every ten minutes or so, thinking of Chase, and enjoying the tickle in my chest that they bring.
After lunch I become engrossed once again, but am interrupted by the beeping of my intercom. I press the button and Stacey informs me that my mother is on hold. The warmth, the fuzz, the tickle, they all freeze, snuffed out by the bitter cold that sweeps over my body. I don’t like talking to my family. They refuse to accept my wishes, of not speaking about the past. Always forcing memories on me, pushing me to “accept” what happened and let go. I get angry and on its heels comes sadness. Chaotic emotions that I want no part of. I should have sent in that RSVP card with my regrets already, but I suppose I might as well take the call now and get it over with.
“Put her though, Stacey.” I shore up my strongest, thickest wall, preparing for the disappointment in her voice, and pick up the phone when it beeps again.
“Hello, Mother,” I answer.
“Victoria! I’m so glad you decided to come to the wedding! Danielle is ecstatic! It’s all she can talk about since we got your card!” Wait, I didn’t…
“Mother, there must be some kind—” I start.
“And a plus one!” She goes on without noticing I’d begun to speak. “Victoria, I’m so happy. I’m just so happy for my little girl. He must be very special for you to be bringing him home to a family wedding. I can’t tell you
I sigh, telling my inner bitch to back off, and try not to jump to conclusions in the future. “I’m sorry, Stacey.” Her eyes get wide. What the hell? I may be introverted, but it’s not like I was rude or didn’t speak to her at all in the past. Want to try that again? Because I smell bullshit. Was I that bad? Okay, new rule: aloof but present. “I misjudged the time. Thank you for being so efficient.” Robot, robot, robot. “Um, yes, please order me a salad from that place around the corner and go ahead and bring in the delivery. Um, and, thank you.”
She kicks up one side of her mouth in a secretive smile, and spins on her heel, returning to her desk. After a moment, she shuffles back in with the most beautiful bouquet of blue irises I have ever seen. They bloom up from a lovely glass vase, swirling with frosted etchings. The moment she enters, the fragrance permeates the air and the sweet smell fills my lungs. All of the oxygen rushes back out as my heart pumps wildly.
Stacey sets them on my desk, and passes me an accompanying note. She shuffles from foot to foot for a second and I can see that she really wants to stay and find out who they are from and what the note says. I open it, and tell her, “They are from Chase, the guy who dragged me out of here against my will yesterday.”
Stacey’s cheeks get pink with excitement, but that’s all I’m willing to share.
“Would you see about my lunch…please?” I tack that last word on, knowing I’m usually barking orders without thought. I don’t know why I feel the need to change these subtle things. My life is just the way I like it. See? This is why Chase is a bad influence and someone I should stay far away from.
Reluctantly, Stacey returns to her cubicle and once she is gone, the door firmly closed, I open the note and read it. The fuzzy feeling grows with each heavy beat of my heart, the warmth becoming a burn. I read it again and shake my head. He didn’t ask, he simply ordered me to have dinner with him. I should turn him down, just for that. I reach for the phone, but my hand stalls halfway there. I’m super busy, and he teaches today, I should wait until later to cancel.
I arrange the flowers on the glass coffee table in the center of my little conversation nook across the room. Twisting and turning the vase until I’m satisfied that I’ll have the best view of it from my desk. Then I get to work and don’t look at them again. Liar, liar… I don’t look at them much. Pants on fire… Ok, I glance at them every ten minutes or so, thinking of Chase, and enjoying the tickle in my chest that they bring.
After lunch I become engrossed once again, but am interrupted by the beeping of my intercom. I press the button and Stacey informs me that my mother is on hold. The warmth, the fuzz, the tickle, they all freeze, snuffed out by the bitter cold that sweeps over my body. I don’t like talking to my family. They refuse to accept my wishes, of not speaking about the past. Always forcing memories on me, pushing me to “accept” what happened and let go. I get angry and on its heels comes sadness. Chaotic emotions that I want no part of. I should have sent in that RSVP card with my regrets already, but I suppose I might as well take the call now and get it over with.
“Put her though, Stacey.” I shore up my strongest, thickest wall, preparing for the disappointment in her voice, and pick up the phone when it beeps again.
“Hello, Mother,” I answer.
“Victoria! I’m so glad you decided to come to the wedding! Danielle is ecstatic! It’s all she can talk about since we got your card!” Wait, I didn’t…
“Mother, there must be some kind—” I start.
“And a plus one!” She goes on without noticing I’d begun to speak. “Victoria, I’m so happy. I’m just so happy for my little girl. He must be very special for you to be bringing him home to a family wedding. I can’t tell you
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