Collateral Love
Chapter One | Beginning.
When something feels too good to be true, it usually always is. We call it wishful thinking, and it's one of the countless disappointments every human being is bound to face in their life at one point or another. You can't help not understanding the circumstances, but at the same time, you like the way things are; how everything seems like dominos just falling into place.
It's like falling into a routine and being paranoid every second of every day for the unexpected. You become accustomed to how things are supposed to be, which sometimes makes it difficult to handle the curve ball that's been thrown your way, while constantly asking yourself: is this the right decision?
They say every choice you make affects your future, even tiny seemingly irrelevant ones like what shoes to wear with your outfit, and it wasn't until I met them that I realized I was not ready for what's about to come.
It's another normal Tuesday afternoon like it is for me every week, and by this time after school when all my classes are done and over with, I stroll over to the campus bookstore for no apparent reason other than to be alone.
Growing up, I've never been too particularly fond of school, high school or otherwise, and that's because school is nothing but a place for people to be categorized into certain social groups, and possibly feeling bad about themselves because they're not considered society's definition of 'cool' or 'popular.' I'm now in college, and I've spent most of the time alone because I'm terrible at making friends. Although, make no mistake, this isn't a pity party.
I pick an empty table in the Think Coffee section of the bookstore, dropping my bag down onto the floor near my feet, and reaching inside until I find my sketchbook, which is filled to the brim of either useless, unfinished, or elaborated drawings. I then grab my pencil case along with my headphones to help drown out all the noise surrounding me, and hopelessly trying to concentrate as I gently glide the tip of my pencil against the thin sheet of paper.
I know I should be focusing on the loads of homework that's been given to me by my professors for the week, but when the options are either creating art or using a formula to find the solution to a random math problem, then art will always win. Nevertheless, I can't help getting this strange feeling like there's a presence nearby just watching me, and I slowly look up until I'm staring into a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes.
The subtle smirk on his lips is friendly, while the look he's giving me seems to be a mixture of interest and curiosity, and I closely gaze at the rest of his appearance.
He has a smooth and fair skin complexion that's in contrast to his dark brown hair and eyebrows, while the top half of his body is also worth taking note of.
From his palpable biceps to his rippled chest, there's no questioning how attractive he is. I then read the name tag openly displayed on his uniform shirt—Josh, and soon looking down to notice the other thing that's in front of me that wasn't there when first sitting down at the table.
I leer at the guy questionably. "Josh, is it?"
"That's me." He continues to smile, and it's starting to give me butterflies. Is there something stuck in my teeth, or is my hair standing up? I wish I didn't care, but he's making it extremely difficult not to. I then tense up by the next thing he says.
"I'm actually supposed to be working, but I got distracted by this beautiful girl that just walked in," he tells me, and I blatantly look around as if I don't know who he's talking about when it's actually obvious considering I'm the only girl around. Although, beautiful isn't really the word I'd used.
I look at Josh coyly. "Is that right?"
"Yeah," he nods, "and I thought I'd give her something just for showing up."
Josh points at the chocolate glazed donut and iced coffee on the table in between us, and it's like I've temporarily lost the ability and will to speak.
My tongue feels dry as I open my mouth to reply. "Thanks, but I didn't order this."
"I know you didn't, but take it anyway." I don't say anything, but I guess he can decipher from my facial expression that I'm still unsure about this. "Don't worry, it's on the house. Compliments from me to you," Josh smiles, showing his perfectly white teeth, and I seriously can't believe this is happening.
I mean, how often does a hot guy walk up to you bearing donuts and coffee like it's human nature? This has to be another one of my daydreams, otherwise, I'm being punk'd.
"Thanks, but I really don't want any," I say, politely declining his offer.
Josh's smile swiftly disappears. "Is everything okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"It's okay if you don't want it, but not if you really do, and you're just refusing me for some unknown reason." Josh says, and I briefly look away. "I wasn't lying when I said you're beautiful, and I figured giving you something would help to break the ice. Is it your boyfriend?" Josh presumes, and I immediately choke on my saliva.
I blink my eyes excessively, hoping I misheard him, but he looks completely serious. "Uh,"
"Because I get it if you're already taken. If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn't want another guy flirting with you either whether I'm around or not." He proclaims, and I'm certain I look like a deer caught in headlights right now, while my cheeks probably look as red as Rudolph's nose.
I'm actually single as I don't even have some overly dramatic and exaggerated breakup story to tell, and why Josh thinks there's someone else is honestly baffling.
Laughable even.
I can say I've only had one real boyfriend in my entire existence, which obviously didn't end well as I'm going on in my head about how pathetic I feel for not having a boyfriend. My eyes then fixate back on Josh, and it almost looks like he's trying to read me. He's trying to see inside my mind for whatever I'm not telling him, and I just hope he doesn't turn out to be psychic or something.
He then sighs. "I guess I'm right then," Josh mumbles, "you do have a boyfriend."
He's apparently already convinced himself, so would the easiest thing to do in this situation be to lie and continue the ruse?
I'm going to go with yes.
I look at Josh sympathetically. "I mean, would that suddenly change things?"
"Well, yeah. It's not like I'm surprised you already have someone because look at you," Josh says, and I really do take a glimpse at myself. I don't want to seem like one of the modest girls who claim they don't see the charm about themselves, but no, that's exactly how I'm portraying myself right now. "I just hope he knows how lucky he is."
"Lucky?" How can he say that when he doesn't even know me? For all he knows, I'm some crazy obsessive chick with a shrine of my 'boyfriend' locked away in the closet of my dorm room. I mean, I'm not… but he doesn't know that.
Josh simply nods his head. "Yeah, he is. Wouldn't you say so?" He questions, and I'm once again lost in the depths of my own thoughts as I try to conjure up an appropriate response to this very uncomfortable conversation.
I shrug. "Eh, sure I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah, if you mean he's lucky in the sense that he can boldly walk around, affirming the notion that he has a girlfriend instead of being some pathetic guy in his twenties without a partner to love him then yeah, he's lucky." I know I'm rambling right now, saying everything of how I actually feel about myself minus being twenty-years-old as I'm only a freshman in college.
Josh looks at me with an arched eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure I freaked him out. "By the way, you never told me your name." He says, and I'm momentarily silent.
Not really the response I was expecting, but definitely something I can handle answering, so I won't complain. "Maya." I say without difficulty, and Josh quickly smirks.
"You're funny, Maya." He declares, and once again I don't understand what's happening.
Maybe I really do have something stuck in my teeth.
I try to slyly position my hand over my mouth to hide the fact that I'm licking my teeth. "I am?"
"That isn't what I meant when I said your boyfriend's lucky, but I'm sure it's one of the reasons why he likes you. You're not all uptight and expectant of a guy like most girls are, and I guess that's why you're so calm with me." Josh says, and I smile crookedly at him.
He clearly doesn't have a clue, but I'm the furthest thing from calm right now, and how can I be? I'm lying to a guy I just met about already being in a relationship when he's presently the only person I want to be going out with right now.
Josh is literally the epitome of a hot guy you just want to kiss until your lips go numb, and if I wasn't so against embarrassing myself, I would surely hop across this table, and kiss him until we're both out of breath.
Josh proceeds to smile at me before eventually standing up from the table. "Well, sorry I wasted your time. You did look really invested on your drawing before I walked over, so I'll leave you alone now." He says considerately before beginning to walk back over to the counter.
I closely stare at the back of him as he walks away, admiring his broad physique, and soon releasing a groan as I hide my face in my hands. I hope there isn't a lot of girls, who do what I just did, or the population of single females will remain this way for years to come.
About ten minutes go by since Josh has left my table, and although I'm pretending to display severe interest on my sketch, I can't stop thinking about him or our talk. If you ask me, it was way too short, and didn't end at all how I would've liked.
I occasionally peek over my shoulder just to get a look at him, and sometimes I'm caught as he catches me staring at him. Needless to say, he's sometimes already looking at me when I try to look at him. I then stand up after almost two hours of being in the bookstore as I usually don't stay any longer than this; most of my ice coffee gone but still with a whole donut left.
I walk over to the trash to toss my cup away, and currently facing the opposite direction of the counter as I contemplate my next move. What are the chances I can walk out of here with his phone number? Probably slim, but I decide to go for it.
I tightly squeeze my eyes shut, taking some deep breaths, and starting to spin back around only to see Josh already standing directly in front of me.
"Josh,"
"Maya," We say simultaneously, and the moment I hear his laugh, I go weak at the knees.
He had already planned to chase after me if I didn't stop, and just when I thought I couldn't fall for him more.
"I just wanted to know when I can expect to see you again? You might have a boyfriend, but that shouldn't mean we can't still get to know each other." Josh declares, and I can't believe I'm still being foolish with not telling him the truth.
I smile coyly. "Of course, y-yeah. I feel the same way,"
"Then is it okay?" Josh implies, and it's becoming immensely hard to contain my excitement. "Can I have your number?"
I eagerly nod, while biting my lip. I come to this bookstore all the time, and never has something like this happened to me—a cute guy actually wanting my phone number and hoping to see me again. Josh must have just started working here though because it's the only explanation for why I've never seen him before until now.
We give each other our phones back, and my face is starting to hurt from smiling so much. If I am daydreaming, then I wish it never has to end. "Can I text you later?" Josh asks, and if it weren't for this fake boyfriend lie of mine, he wouldn't have to ask.
"I hope you do."
"Then I will. I'll see you later, Maya." Josh says, and the giddy smirk he sends my way just before walking off is glorious.
At least I know he's just as happy about all of this as I am.
I find my way out of the bookstore, walking down the sidewalk when my phone suddenly makes a noise, notifying me of an incoming text message. I fish it out of my pocket, looking at the screen to see who it's from, and I instantly start grinning like a little girl who just got a pony for her birthday.
Hi, the message from Josh says with a smiling emoticon, and I can't help giggling at how eager he is to talk to me when he should be focusing on work.
Regardless, I decide to reply back.
Hey
Just wanted to say that I'm excited to talk later
Me too
I continue to text for as long as his messages keep coming, walking with my head down, therefore completely oblivious to my surroundings until the moment I hear voices coming from around the corner of an alleyway. I slow down my pace before stopping altogether and peeking my head out just enough to see what's going on.
My eyebrows knit together, suspicious of the sight I see happening in front of me—four guys spray painting the sidewall of a building, and it's hard to believe they haven't been caught yet considering how loud they are. Even so, there's one guy in particular that I can't take my eyes off, as he's clearly the ringleader and mastermind for this ridiculous group of friends.
He's tall—maybe a few more inches shorter than Josh—with a sleeve of tattoos on both of his arms, a bandana tied around his forehead, and piercings in his eyebrow and earlobes. Meanwhile, his outfit exhibiting the perfect ounce of wannabe bad boy from the ripped denim jeans to the black V-neck T-shirt. He's also got a chain hanging from his neck, while his posture looks like the all around too-cool-for-school kind of stance. I also notice that he appears to be standing back, watching the other three guys deface the structure of some poor store owner's property with their graffiti, and not even the good kind of either.
There's slang, mutant creature type things, and other pointless paintings that don't make sense at all. As an artist, I couldn't be more offended. If you're going to waste your time spray painting a wall, at least put some meaning behind it.
"Hey, Jake, how's this?"
"Awesome. Your Bart Simpson is lookin' good," he replies, and I can't help glowering at all of them. "And what about you, Connor? Figured out how to spell apocalypse yet?"
"Shut up, man." Connor groans, filling in the letters for the word he spelled so far, which is just 'zombie.'
It's taking everything in me not to go over and give them a piece of my mind, although I don't have to once my phone suddenly goes off, giving me away.
Josh couldn't have replied at a worse time, and I'm absolutely speechless as I gaze at all of them like they're in their underwear or something before quickly attempting to run away; however, I don't get very far as one of them grabs ahold of me.
And of course, it's Jake.
He has a firm grip on my forearm, attempting to tug me toward him, but I do whatever I can to make it harder for him. "Let go of me!"
"Why should I? Not after you were spying on us,"
"I wasn't spying!"
"Really? Then what would you call it?" The sarcasm in his voice is undoubtedly agitating, and I'm desperate to have him release me.
"Get your hands off me or I'll scream!"
"Do it. I dare you." Jake quietly whispers, his vague threat much more intimidating.
How hasn't anybody stopped to save me yet? I mean, don't I look in distress?
His lips are close to my ear, and his warm breath has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Jake's grip isn't even all that tight, but still secure enough that I'm unable to free myself.
He then pulls me close to him with one quick heave, and I'm soon standing chest to chest with him. Jake is obviously as strong as he looks, and I feel foolish for thinking otherwise.
His hand is holding the small of my back, making sure to keep me in place, and looking into his fiery eyes, I can see that his irises are a pretty emerald green.
Jake looks me up and down with a smirk. "Not bad,"
"What?"
"You're not as ugly as I thought from up close." Jake says, and I clench my jaw before kicking him as hard as I can in the leg; however, the force of my affliction doesn't seem to faze him at all.
He chuckles pitifully. "Cute. But I've been in plenty of fights, so withstanding your frail little kick is nothing to me."
"Whatever! Just let me go,"
"Not yet," Jake murmurs, and guiding me back in the direction of the alleyway where the rest of his goons are. They immediately stop what they're doing, all eyes on Jake and me, and there's no way I'm letting him get away with this. "Look boys, I just snagged us our first fan." Jake says, and I send him a death stare.
Oh, so just because I was watching you, I'm suddenly a fan girl? Pathetic.
The rest of the guys come closer to us, and I'm truthfully frightened for what's to come. Jake then decides to let go of me, but only because his friends are blocking the exit. In other words, if I try to run, then they're bound to catch me.
"Relax," Jake says soothingly, and he must be out of his mind. How can anyone possibly relax in a situation like this? "We're not going to hurt you."
"Yeah, right."
"Trust me, if I wanted to harm you, I would've done it already." There's a grimness in his voice, and I nervously swallow. "I just want to know one thing,"
"And then you'll let me leave?"
"What's the rush? I was hoping we could get acquainted," Jake smirks, and the only thing running through my mind right now is that I wish Josh were here. We may have only just met, but I have no doubt he would rescue me in a heartbeat. Too bad he's still at work. "Now, why were you spying on us?"
"I wasn't spy—"
"Don't give me that crap. When someone is watching someone else in hopes of going unnoticed, it's usually called spying. Tell me why." Jake demands with a hard, edgy facial expression to match the daunting tone of his voice.
I anxiously gaze around me, wondering how my supposed daydream turned into such a nightmare, and if there's anything I can do to get myself out of this? I then reconnect my stare with Jake's, and he looks even more miffed now than he did a few seconds ago.
"Why are you guys spray painting your graffiti on this man's property? You do know you can be expelled for this, right?" I say, and for a brief moment, Jake's stern countenance disappears.
He sneers. "That's what you're worried about? Baby, this building is nothing more than a rundown hole in the wall. This mini mart has been here for years, and the owner is like 87-years-old. I'm pretty sure he won't care that a couple of guys generously gave this place some life again."
"That's not the point. This man works hard every day to satisfy his customers, making sure to keep his business a friendly environment, and then you and friends come tarnishing it with your idiotic means of 'self-expression',"
"And what are you, the art teacher?"
"No, but someone needs to tell you that what you're doing is wrong." Jake and his friends hastily erupt into laughter, and I tightly clench my fists, frustrated by how careless they're all acting. It's like everything I'm saying goes in one ear and out the other.
Jake soon starts to calm down, stepping closer to me, and softly lifting my chin. He isn't hiding the fact that he's staring at my mouth as he talks to me. "Your concern is adorable, but I would stay out of people's business if I were you."
"And if I were you, I would at least try spray painting an abandoned building instead of someone's property."
"I will do whatever I want, so get over it. Besides, no way is some petite little blonde going to tell me what to do. Not even my girlfriends do that,"
"Wait," I say, snatching his hand off of me before taking a step back. I look at Jake questionably. "Girlfriends? You mean, you have more than one?"
"Yup," he says proudly with an arrogant smirk curling at the ends of his lips.
And just when I thought he couldn't be more revolting. "How is that even possible? And they both know about each other?"
"Right again blondie." Jake says. "I have two girlfriends, which means twice the fun. Whoever said love isn't easy was wrong."
I scoff. "You call that love? You're only playing these girls, and why they're okay with it is strange. You sure you aren't just some pimp using girls for sex?"
Jake laughs again, and I don't understand how he finds this funny. Never in my life have I heard of a relationship consisting of more than two partners unless someone is cheating or in this case—a player.
I watch Jake as he moves to lean against the wall away from the dripping paint, and lifting one of his legs up. He looks at me with a dull expression, while his hands are tucked away in the pockets of his jeans. "Are you living under a rock somewhere? It may be rare and a little hard to believe, but relationships like these do exist. Who made up the rule you can only have one boyfriend or one girlfriend, anyway?"
"It's just—"
"What? Nobody should have to limit themselves when it comes to love if they don't want to. I love both of my girlfriends, and they love me. I treat them both the same, and it's not like I'm doing anything to them they don't like."
"No girl would be okay with this, Jake!"
"Huh, so you know my name…" Jake says as he smiles down at the ground. I swear that was an accident, although I'm sure he doesn't care. "Then I guess it's only fair you tell me yours."
"Why should I when I don't plan to see you again,"
"But you will. I guarantee it." Jake replies with a witty grin, and I can feel my cheeks flush. "I mean, you do want to see me again, don't you?"
"What I want… is for you to let me leave." I mutter, marching up to him, and grabbing the collar of his shirt in my fist in hopes of him taking me seriously.
Jake simply smiles. "You're cute when you try to act feisty."
"Tell your friends to get out of my way."
"Not before you tell me your name."
"No."
"Then I guess we're gonna be here awhile,"
Jake is seriously testing my patience, and I really regret not ignoring them when I had the chance.
"Hey, what's going on back here?" A voice suddenly shouts, startling all of us, and in a blink of an eye, Jake's friends are already running away, leaving him and I alone together. "Get away from here, or I'm calling the cops!" A woman yells, who looks to be in her mid-thirties, and I'm assuming she's the owner's daughter or something.
Jake swiftly grabs my hand in one quick motion, making sure to keep me close to him.
"No need, ma'am. We were just leaving," he says calmly, abandoning the empty spray cans his friends left behind, and hurriedly walking pass the lady until we're completely out of the alley. Then we start running.
We run for a good twenty blocks, and Jake doesn't let go of my hand until we stop. Meanwhile, his friends are still nowhere to be found, but he doesn't seem to care. If I didn't know any better, I would think he's happy to be alone with me.
He finally drops my hand, and there's nothing stopping me from finally getting away from him.
Jake looks at me serenely, and I wish I could tell what he's thinking. "So, you're really not going to tell me?"
"I don't see why it's important. You got your friends and your two girlfriends. Knowing my name shouldn't matter to you."
"Guess you're right…" Jake says nonchalantly, dismissing the subject once and for all. That was almost too easy.
He then turns to start walking away from me without another glance in my direction, leaving me alone to stand on the sidewalk like an idiot, and I eventually take a deep breath.
I surprisingly made it out of the situation in one piece, but it's left me wanting to see Josh even more now.
Remembering that he sent me another text, I dig into my pocket to find my phone, opening our conversation, and reading what he said to me.
I get off at 6, so I'll talk to you then, Josh writes to me, and it's about time I come clean about this boyfriend façade.
I think of what to say to him, and quickly jabbing my thumbs along the screen as I type out my response.
Change of plans, I want to see you instead. Let's meet up, and then we'll do something
I press send, but Josh doesn't immediately reply, which means he has to be busy. Regardless, I'm sure he'll be happy to see me because after what I just went through, spending time with a hot guy such as Josh should do me some justice.
Now if it were only six o'clock.
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