You Should Smile (5 page)

Then Thad’s eyes met mine.  There was something else in his eyes this time.  Lust?  Need?  Fear?  All of the above?

I glanced at my watch and winced.  It was nearly two a.m.  I hadn’t been out that late since....well, since I drowned my sorrows in the depths of alcohol three summers ago over Mama’s Boy. 

The three of them headed toward me.

Chris spoke first.  “Shay, uh, we’re headed out.  Do you have a way home?”

Paul and Melissa had gone in the other area of the bar to hear the band play.  I didn’t want to stick around any longer, though.  I was ready to go home.  “I’m just gonna get a cab,” I said.

Thad glanced at Chris.  “I’ll share it with her and make sure she gets home alright.”

Chris looked back to me.  “Are you okay with that?”

I hesitated.  Was I okay with that?  Ms. L was screaming, “Hell yeah!”  Meanwhile, my head was screaming, “Be careful, girlie!”  I tried to play it safe.  “Ummm, you don’t have to do that.  I can make it okay.”

Thad shook his head.  “No.  Someone needs to make sure you get all the way home safely, Shay.  I offered.  If you’d rather it be someone else, that’s no problem, but this is non-negotiable.”  He stared at me intently.

“Okay…..Ummm, you’re fine.”

As soon as I said those particular words, I regretted them.  No one seemed to notice the double meaning except for me, of course, because all I seemed to think about lately was exactly how “fine” he was.  So before anyone could catch it, I awkwardly announced, “I need to use the restroom first.  I’ll be right back.” Such a dork.  I nearly ran to the bathroom.

I texted Melissa from the bathroom to tell her I was just getting a cab.  As I got to the bathroom door to leave, I heard the unmistakable sound of Chris’ controlled voice in the hallway.  I guessed they’d gone to the restroom, too. 

“Be careful, man.  Don’t do something you’ll both regret.”

The walls were apparently much thinner than people realized.  I stayed behind the door, listening. 

What?  Don’t judge.  You would, too. 

“I’m good.  I just want to make sure she gets home safely,” Thad responded.

“Look, you can tell yourself that’s all it is, but I saw you two in there.  Sparks were flying all over the place.  You’re a fucking fireworks show.”

I could hear Thad sigh.  “That’s what I was trying to tell you guys earlier today.  It’s always like that…torture…like that dress she’s wearing tonight….fuck.…”

Chris laughed.  “No doubt……Look, man, if it’s worth going after, then go after it.  Why don’t you just tell them you can’t be on her committee?”

“I just can’t, okay?  First off, she has a fucking boyfriend.  Also, my research fits her project.  Long story, but I basically have to be on it.  Plus, you
know
me.  I’d fuck her and then that’s it and then what?  I’m not on her committee
and
she’s fucked over?  What good does that do anyone?”

“I think you just answered that question then.  Be smart.”

“I will.  Don’t worry, man.”

I waited until I heard them walk off before I made my way out.

His words kept ringing in my ears.  He thought I was still dating Decent Pete?  I tried to think back and realized that I’d never said otherwise.  Why would I have?  Worse, I’d apparently be just another “fuck” to him.  I didn’t know whether I should be “grateful” or not that he’d decided not to fuck me so that I don’t get screwed over by him and his lack of presence on my committee.  How kind of him.  Ms. L. was really, really pissy and sarcastic now. 

I was ready to ask Chris to ride with me instead, but when I came out of the bathroom, there he was – just him, hands in the pockets of his frayed jeans, t-shirt taut across his chiseled chest, waiting for me.

Our eyes met and he smiled.  This was the old smile, the Pickup Grinner smile that I loved so much.  I couldn’t help but smile back, even though I was still pretty pissed.

I was quiet on the cab ride home. 

Thad finally broke the silence. “Shay, I’m sorry I got carried away in there. I know I probably pissed you off.  I shouldn’t have done that…..I just…..”

I was getting so tired of being cast as the poor innocent naïf.  “This is hard for me, too, you know,” I countered.

He met my eyes and lifted his eyebrows, waiting on me to elaborate.

Then it happened.  My blurting mouth.  “Well, I have this livid libido and she’s been cussing me out a lot lately.  She has needs.” Drunken Blurting Mouth Shay is an idiot. 

I turned away before I knew his smirk was back.  “Your libido?”

I couldn’t look up at him, so I just mumbled, “Yeah.  She’s been neglected for months and….wait, why in the hell am I telling you this?”  Appalling. 

He ignored my dismay.  “Months?  What about your boyfriend?”

I looked up finally and met his eyes.  They held confusion.

“I broke up with him over Christmas break……He wore sweater vests.”  What the hell was wrong with me?  I should stop drinking with this mouth.  Forever.

He laughed out loud.  “I really don’t blame you.  Sweater vests are terrible.”

The silence loomed large as the noise from the traffic surrounded us.  Finally, I said to the cab driver, “It’s up here on the left.  First house.”

The cab came to a stop in front of my apartment house and I opened my purse.  Thad stopped me.  “No.  I got it.  Hey driver, do you mind staying here for a sec while I walk her to the door?”

“Sure, man,” the cabbie replied. 

I opened the door to the curb and Thad was already there, waiting for me, hand out.  I grabbed it and there it was again.  That “thing” – those “sparks”.  He looked down at our joined hands.

“You feel that?”  He whispered.

I just nodded.

“It’s fucked up, isn’t it?”  He asked.

“Yeah, but mostly it just pisses me off,” I replied.  I was so tired of pretending.

He glanced my way and chuckled softly.  “Yeah, I get that.”

When we reached my apartment, I tried not to think about the awkward goodbye moment.  At least we weren’t on a date and I didn’t have to worry about the ‘is he going to kiss me or not’ feeling.  That’s the worst.  I fucking hate dating.

He finally turned toward me and grinned my grin.  “Goodbye, Shay.” 

He started walking down the stairs, but then stopped and turned toward me again.  His voice was a low whisper.  “I’m glad you broke up with that guy, Smiles. He wasn’t good enough for you.”   

My heart skipped a beat.  That name again.  I hadn’t heard it in months. 

I somehow found the wherewithal to choke out, “Goodbye, Thad,” before going inside.

Things got easier in some ways and harder in others.  After that night playing pool, we started hanging out more outside of the university.  I don’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but he became more than just someone I was physically attracted to and my committee advisor.  He became my friend, as well.  He also got to be good friends with Grant and Grant’s new boyfriend, Ethan (yes, the English guy – finally!).  Thus, by default, our “group” began to include him automatically.  In the movies, this is the part where there’d be a montage scene showing us doing “friendsy” things together with some upbeat background music.  Thad and Shay having coffee….Thad and Shay walking to lunch…...Thad and Shay laughing at a joke….   

Honestly, it was nice to finally be able to talk to someone casually about my research.  Pete had always tuned out as soon as I started talking about it.  I could tell by the vacant look in his eyes.  (Looking back, I was starting to realize, too, that perhaps Pete wasn’t quite as “decent” as I made him out to be.)  Grant’s focus was on the executive branch, so political communication to him was foreign and boring.  Thad, on the other hand, studied how political communication influences a person’s psychological decision-making processes, so his interests aligned with my own.  For my dissertation, I was researching the impact that political communication has had upon political activism, including case studies on how political writing influenced the American Revolution, how legal language influenced the American Civil Rights Movement, and how modern social media influenced other countries’ attempts at democratic revolutions.

Thad’s eyes would light up when I mentioned a finding or a correlated relationship.  He often offered interesting alternate explanations and other tips to add to my dissertation.  He also knew a lot about one of my civil rights case studies, so he was a huge resource for me on that.  I was grateful to have him on my committee – and to have him as a friend, too. 

None of this appeased Ms. L., of course.  She was still a raving lunatic.  I found, however, so long as I didn’t actually touch him and conversations stayed within professional bounds, she could be somewhat tamed.   

Our group all hung out together a lot that first summer, which was almost a year after we’d first met at that gas station.  It was about to become one of the most memorable summers of my life.

We all met for trivia at Moe’s on Tuesdays after work.  One Tuesday night that summer, I got there early and held the table, waiting on the others to show.  Thad was the first to walk in.  I hadn’t seen him up at the office that day, so I secretly checked him out from the back of the room while he looked for someone he recognized.  He looked good.  Really good.  He was wearing tan slacks and a navy blue button-down shirt.  Thoughts of Catholic school boy uniforms ran through my head.  Then, I felt kind of pervy about that and tried to lose the image.

His eyes met mine and he waved.  Just a slight flick of the wrist sort of wave, but even that seemed sexy.  Deep breath, relax, Shay.  Smile, don’t fidget.  I waved back.  He grinned – and there it was.  Full-blown creases.  I wanted to lick those creases with my tongue.  I couldn’t help but feel again that he saved those grins just for me when we were alone, almost like he knew and did it as something, even a little something, we could intimately share.

He approached the table and sat down.  “I didn’t know anyone would be here yet.  I was trying to get here early to get a table.” 

I smiled.  “I had the same idea.”

He met my eyes again and then looked quizzical.  “Did you change your hair?”

I started to blush again, but I think I was finally learning to will it away.  Enough of that blushing shit!  “I just got it cut and highlighted today.”  Awkward. 

He grinned again.  “I like it.  It suits you.”

“Uh, thanks…..” I stammered back.  I hate compliments, especially coming from someone you want to fuck more than anything.  It just makes it worse. 

His grin turned into a knowing smirk.  “You really need to learn to take a compliment, Shay.  It’s okay to accept what’s true.”

I’d already had a drink, so my blurting mouth couldn’t be stopped.  “What if I don’t think it’s true, though?”

“Then accept it anyway.  What don’t you think is true?  Your hair?”

I shook my head. “No, not that, necessarily.  I’m saying, in general, if I get a compliment I doubt, why should I just accept it?”

“Because you just should….Let’s practice.”  He grinned again and instinctively, I grinned back. 

He continued, clearing his throat.  “Shay, your writing is fantastic and your dissertation is coming along well.”

I smiled and teased, “Technically, that’s two compliments, but regardless….Thank you, Thad.”

He took a drink of beer and faced me again.  “See it wasn’t that hard, was it?  Let’s try another…..Shay, you’re one of the best graduate students I’ve ever worked with.”

“How nice.  Thank you very much.”  This game was fun. 

He met my eyes again and hesitated a moment.  Lowering his voice, he said, “You’re going to make some guy very happy one day, Smiles.”

My heart skipped.  My breath hitched.  My eyes looked away.  Ms. L. screamed in anger.  I wanted to run off to the bathroom.  I wanted to make a hasty retreat.  But then, Ms. L. took over and joined forces with my blurting mouth. 

I was so tired of this game of pretend.  I was so tired of him controlling the environment and me always reacting.  I had the sudden urge to make him feel as uncomfortable and frustrated as he made me feel. 

You know in the movies when you see the heroine do something that she shouldn’t do, but you know she’s going to do it anyway?  Well, that was me, and I was too frustrated to stop myself or even regret it.

“Why, thank you, Thad.  When I do find him, I hope he’s ready for my livid libido….because I’m probably gonna fuck him senseless….”  I met his eyes again and smiled, silently daring him to respond.

Instead, he spit his beer out.  Spit it out all over the table.  I continued grinning and he scowled.  I watched as he angrily grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and cleaned up the mess.  Then, the awkwardness ensued.  He said nothing.  I just sat there and grinned.  I felt like I’d finally won a round.  He could sit there and soak in that for a while, I thought triumphantly.

Thankfully, the others started showing up and we didn’t have to speak again.  I continued to act as if nothing had happened and he continued to ignore me.  We did, however, learn some important things about each other that night as we all began to trade life stories.   

“Hey, do you have any single sisters, Shay?” Paul asked.

“Haha.  Nope.  Sorry Paul.  I’m an only child.”

He grinned.  “What about your mom?” 

“Ewww…shut up.  She’s still married to my dad, ass.”

“Hey, can’t blame a guy for asking!”

Grant piped up.  “Her parents are awesome.  I love them.  They’re both teachers.  I love hanging out with them.  They’re those parents who are fun and not overbearing.  It’s not like they buy her underwear still or anything.”

Grant nudged me in the side as he made his obvious reference to my ex-boyfriend.  I gave him a glare in return.

“Underwear?” Paul implored.

Grant, obviously drunk, continued.  “Yeah, Shay once dated this loser whose mom still bought his underwear.  He was like twenty-three.  Who does that?  I called him ‘Mama’s Boy’.  He was awful.  Shay has terrible taste in men.”

I just shrugged my shoulders and feigned mock anger.  “Thanks a lot, Grant.”  Really, he meant well, even if it was embarrassing – and true.

I noticed that Thad had arched his eyebrow.

Of course, Melissa piped up with her screechy voice.  “What happened with Mama’s Boy, Shay?  Why’d y’all break up?  The underwear?” 

Of course she asked that.  There was an awkward moment when everyone looked at me.  I could see Grant about to try to save me, but I could handle this on my own.  I was a big girl now.  I shrugged my shoulders.  “Well, it’s a simple story, really.  Kind of like a bad movie plot.  I came home to catch my live-in boyfriend screwing my best friend in our bed….Good times.” 

Stories like that always seem to put a damper on the conversation.  Grant looked concerned.  Melissa seemed inappropriately delighted.  Thad just seemed pissed.  He was clenching his jaw like he always does when he is brooding about something.

It was time to change the subject. “None of your moms still buy your underwear, do they?”  I teasingly asked the group.  Everyone shook their head ‘no,’ including Thad, whose eyes finally met mine with a slight smile and a look of compassion.  Maybe he was starting to get over his bad mood.

Grant interjected, asking the guys in the group, “So, boxers or briefs?”

Each guy answered separately and the consensus was mostly boxers.  Then it got to Thad and he cleared his throat.  “Boxers….definitely.” 

I had that image in my mind.  Go away.  GO away.  Fuck.  I didn’t want to imagine him in boxers.  No.  No.  No.  I must’ve made a sound or something because I heard his voice, directed toward me.  He was staring. 

“Why do you always go off in thought randomly?”  Was he talking to me?  Yes, he was. 

I met his eyes, and said sheepishly, “I don’t know.  I can’t help it.  I just do.” 

Grant nodded.  “She does.  It’s weird.  She’s either daydreaming or running off when she’s uncomfortable.  That’s Shay.”

Thad nodded his head once as if taking it all in.  I thought I heard him mutter something under his breath.  What was that all about?  Then, I remembered what I’d been daydreaming about when he asked.  Did he realize that? 

On a drunken roll, Melissa started asking others about their own bad relationships.  When it was Thad’s turn, “uncomfortable” didn’t seem to adequately describe how he looked.  He was as uncomfortable as a whore in church on Easter.  Finally, he choked out, “I was engaged once.  It was a bad idea.  It ended badly.”

No one spoke because it was quite obvious that he didn’t want to elaborate.  I nodded as if I understood completely, though I didn’t understand it at all.  Did he break it off?  Did she?  If she did, did he still care?  If he did it, why? 

The conversation carried on.  Thad was an only child, too.  He never knew his dad, who left his mom when he found out she was pregnant with Thad.  I could tell that made him uncomfortable, too.  He didn’t like to talk about certain things.  He did say that he’d been raised by his mom, who was some sort of “community activist”, while his biggest influence was his grandfather, a carpenter. 

The subject turned to hobbies and, after everyone else contributed, Thad began telling us all about some wood-working projects he was working on.  He was more comfortable with this subject.  

I couldn’t stop myself again.  “That explains the hands.”

Everyone turned toward me and I realized I’d said that out loud.  I stammered, “I mean, when I shook your hand once, it felt rough, so I knew you did some sort of manual labor.  That’s why I thought you were doing manual labor for Dean Sullivan that day.” 

As my words dawned on him, he grinned broadly.  “I remember.  So you thought I was the Dean’s landscaper or something?”  He chuckled.

Everyone was now staring between us and I realized that this private conversation had gone very public.  I should explain. 

“I met Thad at Keno’s on the day of his interview with the Dean.  She told me she was interviewing him for a ‘job’, and when I shook his hand, I just assumed he was some sort of laborer.  I totally stereotyped him as a blue collar guy.  Not my best moment.”

With that explanation of how we had “met”, everyone seemed appeased.  I didn’t add that I’d first stereotyped him at the gas station where we really met, of course. 

Thad sat down his beer.  He turned toward the group, smiling.  “The waitress had spilled beer down Shay’s shirt.  Shay was so uncomfortable.  The whole moment was ridiculous…..but memorable.”  His eyes met mine again and something passed between us.  I looked away quickly.

Everyone laughed at the story.  Paul’s beers had obviously kicked in.  “Man, I’d love to have seen the wet t-shirt, though.”

The table went silent.  Thad, who was sitting across from Paul, gave him a glare.  “Not appropriate, man.”

Paul mumbled an apology.  I brushed it all off as no big deal.  You gotta pick your battles.  Girls deal with that type of stuff all the time.  Over the years, you try to recognize which types of comments are benign and which ones are red flags indicating danger.  Paul was a drunken fool, but I found him harmless.   

Grant directed the conversation back to Thad’s carpentry.

“Well, I told you how my mom’s dad was a carpenter.  He taught me everything I know about the trade when I was young.  From the time I was sixteen, I’ve spent my summers and a lot of my weekends building something.  It makes me feel useful.”  He paused, taking a drink.  “Look, I can write a paper and come up with a theory that maybe 200 other people in the world give two shits about.  Will it make an impact on society?  Maybe, but not likely…..but a dining room table, a family heirloom chest, a new house – those last.  You’ve got something tangible and real to show for your work.”  He glanced down at the table.  “To be honest, I don’t think of myself as an academic.  I drive a beat-up old pickup truck that belonged to my grandfather.  It suits me just fine.  I don’t care about status or ego.  I really don’t need much in this life.  So, I guess in my heart, I
am
a blue collar guy.”  He met my eyes.

I looked away quickly, unable to maintain a connection so powerful.  His words had rendered me open-mouthed and, for once, completely silent.  Someone finally vocalized my thoughts.  “Wow.  That’s an amazing philosophy.”

I was thinking it was amazing, too.  I was thinking it was full of heart and substance.  My mind was thinking it made me like him more.  My body was thinking it made me want him more.  Ms. L. was thinking, “Fuck you, Shay!”  Not my heart, though.  My heart was thinking, “Stay away.  Stay away. Stay away.  He would ruin you completely.”  That’s what my heart was thinking.

Mama’s Boy broke my heart at the age of twenty-three and it took me two years, literally two years, to even think about dating again.  My only safety zone was the recent foray into Decent Pete territory.  But Thad?  Him?  I would break. Completely shatter.